Texas Rose (16 page)

A
t 10:00 a.m., it was too early for the lunch crowd. Except for Daisy at the bar, they were alone in the restaurant.

Matt reached for Rose's hand. It was ice cold. He wrapped his fingers around it. She was nervous. He wasn't exactly feeling calm himself, but he knew now wasn't the time to let her see that. This was the first hurdle they were facing together as husband and wife.

Taking a breath discreetly, Matt squeezed her hand. Rose looked at him. “It's going to be all right,” he promised.

She nodded. She wanted to believe that,
had
to believe that. Otherwise, it was going to be just him and her. The two of them against the world.

The three of them, she amended, thinking of her baby.
Their
baby.

She'd always been so family oriented, the thought of a schism between her and her family was almost too much to bear. Rose was banking on their love for her to somehow engineer a truce between the two sides.

The late-morning sun found its way to the plain gold band on her left hand, highlighting it. Mrs. Matthew Carson. It was official. She belonged to him now. And he to her.

They'd gotten married at the altar in St. Patrick's Cathedral rather than at city hall the way they'd first decided. As always, bless her, Aunt Beth had known someone who could help. This time, it was a priest connected to the cathedral. Father Thomas Gannon had ushered them in after ten o'clock at night just a scant thirty-six hours ago. It was he who had performed the ceremony in front of God, Aunt Beth and their would-be mugger, Bryce.

Rose couldn't have asked for anything more perfect than the regal stained glass, the fine statues and the reverent hush within the old cathedral. She would have been satisfied marrying Matt under the stars on the prairie with words uttered by a justice of the peace, but it, she had to admit, had been as perfect as she could have envisioned.

Except, perhaps, to have had her family there.

But that was what today was all about. She and Matt had separately summoned their respective families to meet them at the temporary Men's Grill in the Lone Star Country Club.

She only prayed that fireworks wouldn't result as the various members of their two families ran into each other when they arrived at the club.

Her stomach suddenly tightened. She couldn't
make out the words, but she could hear her father's gruff voice just outside the door.

“Here they come,” she said to Matt.

The door of the restaurant suddenly opened and Archy Wainwright strode in, followed closely by Ford Carson. Various members of both families spilled into the room, surprised, mystified and wary. Rather than mingle, each gravitated to a side, not quite sure what was going on.

Like a bullet, Archy made for his daughter.

“What the hell's the meaning of all this, Rose?” he demanded. “You're supposed to be in New York with that flaky sister of mine.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a reproving look from his ex-wife, Kate, and tempered his tone.

As far as Rose knew, neither her brother nor Matt's had returned from New York yet. But it was the head of each family that she was concerned with now.

She took a deep breath and held on to Matt's hand more tightly.

“Matt and I have an announcement to make.” Rose congratulated herself that her voice hadn't quavered in the face of her father's angry scowl.

Ford Carson's eyes narrowed. “What kind of announcement?” He turned to his son. “Is she doing the talkin' for you these days, boy?”

Matt squared his shoulders. He was used to his father's blunt way of speaking and pretty much immune
to it. But he didn't want anything to hurt Rose. She'd been through enough as it was.

“I don't mind my wife taking the lead once in a while.”

The room went deadly silent, shrouded in disbelief. The two sides regarded each other with uncomfortable wariness.

“Your what?” Ford thundered.

Archy glared accusingly at his daughter. “Is he the one who's responsible?”

Rose lifted her chin. “If you mean responsible for making me happy, Dad, then yes, Matt's the one who's responsible.”

“Don't play your word games with me, girl.” He pointed a short, stubby finger in Matt's direction. “Is he the one who forced himself on you?”

Matt moved forward, about to defend himself, but Rose thrust her arm in front of him to hold him in place. The last thing she wanted was for the two men who meant the most to her to get into it right in front of her.

“Nobody forced anything, Dad. I love Matt Carson and he loves me.” She looked at Matt's father. “And yes, Mr. Carson, there is a baby on the way. A baby who's going to be half Carson, half Wainwright and who's going to need all of your love.”

“Now, does the baby get it?” Matt wanted to know, looking from his father to Rose's. “Or do we tell him that his grandfathers are stubborn old men
who let pride and a stupid, ancient feud get in the way of the best thing that's happened to their families in a long, long time? The choice is yours.”

Both men stood regarding one another and the situation in complete silence, searching for a way not to rend their families asunder any further while still saving face.

Archy spoke first. He looked at his daughter, love winning out over pride. “Married, huh?”

She nodded her head and held up her hand with the ring on it. “Married.”

He lifted his shoulder and let it drop in dismissive apathy. “Well, it don't count if it happened in a place like New York City.”

She wasn't going to be outbullied by her father. Not this time. Rose looked at him pugnaciously. “It counts.”

“No,” Archy insisted. “It don't. Gotta do it up right.” He slanted a look toward Ford, daring the man to disagree with him. “Texas style if this marriage is going to have a chance.”

He took a step forward as he saw Ford approach Rose, but his ex-wife placed a restraining hand on his arm.

After a moment's hesitation, Ford embraced his son's new wife. When he released her, he echoed Archy's words, surprising everyone.

“That's my grandchild you're carrying and his parents are going to get married right.”

“Don't be telling my daughter what to do,” Archy warned darkly. Then his brow cleared slightly as he looked at Rose. “But for once in his life, Ford Carson's right. If this marriage is going to take, you've got to have the wedding out here.” Grudgingly, he looked at Ford. Maybe it
was
time to put the past to rest. “At the place our grandfathers put together before things went sour.”

Presenting himself in front of Ford, Archy huffed, frowning. “I guess I'm willing to give a truce a chance, for the sake of the kids, if you are.” He put out his hand.

Ford stood regarding the hand that was being offered him. After a beat, he took it in his own callused one. “Never let it be said that a Wainwright's a bigger man than a Carson—” His eyes washed over Archy's less than trim waistline. “Unless they're talking about weight, of course.”

Rose felt tears filling her eyes as she threw her arms around her father's neck. “Thank you, Dad.”

He stroked her head. “Anything for my little girl,” he said softly. Clearing his throat, he looked at Ford, who was embracing his own son in solemn congratulations. “Maybe it's high time we called an end to this feud, anyway.”

Everyone in the room agreed with relief.

 

In another state, Dylan Bridges was dictating last-minute notes into his micro-recorder as he tossed
clothes with his free hand into the suitcase that laid open on his bed.

There were myriad things to keep him here. In actuality, he had no time to spare. But time was the main factor now. He couldn't seem to shake the sense of urgency that had overtaken and haunted him since his father's telephone call.

He had a feeling that if he didn't go to see the judge, he would regret it for the rest of his life. Stopping his tape recorder, he reached for the portable telephone and punched in the number for the local airport.

“Hello? Yes, I'd like a ticket to Mission Creek, Texas. What? One way—for now.”