Salvation in the Rancher's Arms(80)
Rachel bit down on her tongue to keep from lashing out. Part of her wanted to pull him by the ear all the way home but the other part knew such behavior would only alienate him further, sending him straight back to Shamus as a sign of defiance. She took a deep breath, changing tactics.
“Did you know the bunkhouse burned to the ground last night?”
Brody’s stiff posture slackened. “What? Which one? Was anyone—”
“No. Almost, but no. Foster got out in time. I’m surprised your boss didn’t tell you about it, seeing as it was his doing.”
“No, it wasn’t.” His denial came fast and hard, shooting out at her. “And he isn’t my boss. He’s my father.”
Shock froze her words on her tongue. For whatever reason, Shamus had decided he no longer needed to hold on to the secret of Brody’s parentage. Instead he had attempted to sever her last tie with her brother.
“He can’t be trusted, Brody.”
Her brother scoffed at her words. “At least he didn’t lie to me like you did. You’ve known all along he was my pa and you didn’t say anything. You wanted to control me. All this time worrying and fighting to make ends meet and it was all here for the takin’!” He swept his arm wide to encompass the land around them.
His words, fed to him by Shamus, were as effective as a sucker punch to the gut. “It wasn’t ours to take, Brody. Do you think I like our situation? I don’t. But if you think for one minute Shamus Kirkpatrick is going to share all his worldly possessions with us out of the kindness of his black heart, then you’re a fool. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“He’s my father!”
“Then where was he all these years? Why didn’t he come to claim you after Pa died? Or after Ma passed away and we were left on our own, struggling? He’ll use you as long as you’re useful to him then he’ll toss you aside.”
“You’re lying.” Brody’s pale blue eyes burned bright with anger and indignation. He’d waited his whole life for a father figure and now she was trying to tear it away from him.
“I’m sorry I kept this from you, Brody. Maybe you’re right, maybe you should have been told. But Mama made me promise to keep it a secret. She didn’t want Shamus to have any claim on you. And for your whole life, he was perfectly happy not to. How did he explain that away?”
Brody shifted. “He said he just found out.”
Rachel made a sound that landed somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Then he lied to you, Brody.”
“He said you’d say that, try to make him look bad. But it’s true. Said it wasn’t till I was grown he realized the resemblance and knew the truth. He said one day I’ll inherit this. Then we won’t ever have to worry about money ever again.”
“We don’t need the money. Not that badly.”
“Well, I do. I’m tired of scraping by and goin’ without. I’m tired of watching you and Ethan give up things you want. Of Stump and Len and Everett working their fingers to the bone because we can’t afford to hire more help.” He jabbed his finger into his chest. “I’m the man of the house now and I won’t be treated like a child that needs protectin’. Go home, Rachel. You’re not my mother and you ain’t my boss. I’m my own man now. Being here is my decision and I won’t change it just ’cause you don’t like it.”
He turned his back on her and, in a few swift strides, reached his horse and mounted. Rachel’s heart broke when he didn’t look back once as he rode off. Those might well be the last words they ever spoke to each other. After she killed Shamus, Brody would have one more thing he’d never forgive her for.
And even if he did, it might be too late.
Caleb squinted against the sun, absently stroking his knife down a piece of kindling. He’d been sitting on the step leading up to the porch and brooding long enough for a pile of chips to collect at his feet and dot his woolen trousers.
He and Rachel were getting married. Of all the events of the past couple of days, that was the one most deeply embedded in his heart. She had agreed to marry him.
He should be elated. Part of him was. But the other part...
He shook his head. He had to tell her the truth and he had to do it now. There was no way around it. He could not, in good conscience, allow Rachel to marry him without knowing.
He had meant to tell her this morning, but when he awoke she was already gone and no one seemed to know where. He’d been sitting here ever since, waiting.
Her absence worried him. She’d taken the burning of the bunkhouse and Ethan falling down the old well hard. It was another sign Kirkpatrick had no intention of slowing down his assault. Caleb had promised her they would work it out, find a way to stop him, but in the morning light things looked no more promising than they had when he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling long after Rachel had fallen into an exhausted sleep.