Craig seemed to follow along in agreement, but when Xander finished, her brother tensed up and eyed him with suspicion once again. “Sometimes I forget you’re a politician. This all sounds real good, but I can’t believe a word you say. I’ll keep this secret for Joey’s sake, not yours. You’ve got to prove to me with actions, not words, that you mean what you say.”
“I’ll do everything I can to prove to them, and to you, that I mean it.” Xander offered his hand to shake on it.
Craig accepted it, but before he let go, he leaned in and said something else Rose couldn’t hear. Xander stiffened slightly at the quiet words, and then he nodded and pulled his hand away. Whatever the discussion, it seemed to satisfy her brother.
“Night, Rose,” Craig said, heading out to his truck with a casual wave. “I’ll pick you up about ten for work.”
Rose just shook her head. She would never understand men. She watched Craig drive away and glanced at her watch. Great. He’d be back in about six hours. Who needed sleep? It was highly overrated.
“I’d better go,” Xander said. “Do you need anything else tonight?”
She turned to him and sighed. “No. You’ve done enough, thank you. I’m sorry about my brother. He’s not very sensitive to how all this must be for you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “If my sister was in this position, I’d probably do the same thing. Only I’d have my three brothers and Ken scowling behind me.”
“I’m surprised Julianne can date at all.” Rose could barely stand one overbearing brother. How Julianne managed with all four of the Eden boys and her father watching, she didn’t know. Last Rose had heard, Julianne hadn’t married yet, either. Maybe the brothers were successful.
Xander smiled, confirming her suspicions. “If she does, she’s smart and keeps quiet about it.” He took a step toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Rose allowed herself to be pulled against him, the protective cocoon of his body welcome after a long, distressing night. He dipped his head to kiss her again. Reluctantly, he pulled away and took a step toward the door. “See you soon, Rose.”
After the door shut, Rose let her body sink back against the wall. A swirl of emotions in her gut, compounded by exhaustion, made it hard for her to keep herself upright.
The future was wide-open now and she had no idea what to expect. It scared the hell out of her.
* * *
If you hurt my sister or my nephew, I swear I’ll be sharing a cell with my dad that very same day.
Those were Craig’s exact words, yet they’d inspired more confusion in Xander than fear. The threat was clear and Xander understood how concerned Craig was with keeping Rose and Joey happy and safe.
But a cell with his dad? Admittedly, Xander was out of touch, but certainly he would’ve heard something if Billy Pierce was in jail. Right?
There was only one way to find out for certain. Xander rolled out of bed sometime around lunch that afternoon. He got dressed and made his way from the converted barn known as the bunkhouse, where he and the other boys stayed growing up, over to the main house to talk to Ken or Molly.
He opened the back door, walking straight into the old kitchen he’d raided repeatedly during his teen years. His foster father, Ken, was sitting at the worn kitchen table, hovering over a bowl of soup and crackers.
“Morning, son,” Ken said, looking up and then back down at his watch. “Good afternoon, rather.”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Grab some soup and join me.”
“Sounds good.” Xander went to the stove, where beef-and-vegetable soup was simmering in a large pot. Even though it was only Ken and Molly on the farm now, she still cooked as if she had a houseful of teenage boys to feed. He ladled soup into a bowl and took it and a glass of tea with him to the table. “Where’s Mom?”
“She went into town to the farmers’ market. Everyone is getting ready for the strawberry festival this weekend. She wanted to pick up a bushel or two of Joe Wheeler’s berries and plan her entries for the baking competition.”
Every summer, Cornwall hosted the Strawberry Days Festival. Friday, Saturday and Sunday would be filled with parades, carnivals, food booths and contests. Someone would be crowned Queen of the Berries. Molly would cook herself half to death this week in the hopes of bringing home one of the coveted blue ribbons. The most cutthroat of competitions were the strawberry-preserves and the strawberry-pie categories, and the winner could lord it over all the other women in town the rest of the year.
Xander could remember eating so many of Molly’s practice dishes as a kid that he went nearly two years in college without eating strawberry anything. He swallowed a spoonful of soup and shook his head. Molly worried herself sick every year and never won, even though her stuff was great. “I’m surprised she’s still butting her head against that wall. You and I know it’s a setup and the mayor’s wife always wins. I know corruption when I see it.”