Cold River - Carla Neggers [123]
He slipped an arm around her waist. “You miss your folks,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I miss mine, too.”
She didn’t respond, just leaned into him and stared down at the frozen river.
“I have a feeling,” Rose said, “that you won’t be doing any quilting by the fire this winter.”
After everyone had left the café, she and Hannah had dragged the old trunk up the stairs and stacked the swatches into piles: definite potential, maybe with some work, trash. Sean had gone up to the lodge with his brothers. Rose had stayed behind.
“Bowie wasn’t just protecting me in that bar fight,” Hannah said, “and he wasn’t completely out of control.”
“I know. Hannah…” Clearly pained, Rose didn’t continue.
“Those men were drunk. Derek Cutshaw, especially.”
Rose stared at the fabric sorted on the worktable. “I was in a bad place last winter and fell for the wrong man.”
“Derek?”
Rose hesitated, then nodded. “I haven’t wanted anyone to know. I was so stupid. He’s manipulative and possessive. I dumped him in March, and he didn’t like it.”
“Bowie knew about the two of you?”
“Derek told him, bragged to him. Bowie tried to warn me that things could get ugly. I didn’t listen. He probably saved my brothers from getting arrested that night by taking matters into his own hands. I’ve been in a very dark place, Hannah.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Derek and me…the insults…the bar fight—he was also talking about me that night. Not just you.”
Hannah could feel her friend’s pain and embarrassment. “Rose, don’t judge yourself—”
“I pride myself on my good judgment, but I let Derek Cutshaw into my life. Then I didn’t tell you that his insults weren’t about you. I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“It doesn’t matter who they were about or if they were true or false. He was in the wrong.”
Rose looked pained. “What he said—it’s not something you live down in a small town. No one really ever believed you…”
Hannah smiled through her own discomfort. “Why, because I can’t make that kind of mistake?”
Rose managed a smile back. “No, because everyone knows everything about you. You live right in town and run the café, and people have been looking out for you for years. Hannah…” Tears shone in Rose’s eyes. “I’m not proud of myself. I’m sorry you had to go through this. It’s all because of me.”
“Derek is a jerk and a heel and I hope he never bothers either of us again.”
“I never thought I’d be in this position,” Rose said, her voice quiet now. “I was recovering from a series of tough missions. Derek is cocky, good-looking. A mean drunk, though. And here we are. My brothers can’t know, Hannah. I couldn’t stand it if they did.”
“Do you think your father knew?”
“Whatever he knew, he kept to himself. It wouldn’t be that way with A.J., Elijah and Sean.” She gave a small laugh. “They need another forty years to mellow.”
Hannah grinned. “I wouldn’t have called your father ‘mellow’ even at seventy-seven.”
Pensive again, Rose ran her fingertips over her fabric. “I haven’t heard from Derek since the fight at O’Rourke’s in March.”
“Bowie kept him from saying your name that night. Maybe Derek got the message and decided to be smart and stay away from you.” Hannah deliberated a moment, but decided she had to say the rest. “Rose, do you need to report Derek to the police for what he did to you?”
“No. What he did to me wouldn’t put him in jail. My brothers were at O’Rourke’s that night. Derek was nasty and out of control, and it would have been easy for things to get seriously out of hand. Bowie shouldn’t have done what he did, but maybe it would have been even worse if he hadn’t.”
“What’s done is done. Nick Martini?”
“A sexier mistake.”
“One you’d make again?” Hannah asked.
“I’m not a good judge of men. You understand you can’t tell my brothers, don’t you?”
“Maybe you should give them a chance.”
“They’ve gone through enough. Promise me.”
“I think Sean’s guessed.”
“Yes, well—” But Rose broke off and smiled. “I noticed you didn’t argue when I said you wouldn’t be doing any quilting by the fire this winter.”
Thirty-Six
Grit,