Du Rose Family Ties

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Du Rose Family Ties Page 15

by Bowes, K T


  The fleeting thought that Logan had done this before with his Bi-polar mother introduced a wave of guilt which added to the anxiety and Hana’s rage turned to tears. Her body sagged and she resented every sob that wrenched itself free from her throat. Logan’s biceps felt rigid around her chest, his arms crossed over like a strait jacket. Hana groaned as her brain made the mental leap and shame flexed its influence. “Oh, God!” she wailed, the plea heartfelt, a woman at the end of her rope. “I can’t do this,” she sobbed, her words slurred and nonsensical.

  “Sshhh, baby, I’ve got you.” Logan’s hushed response stilled the panic which flowed in to replace Hana’s fury and grief washed in after.

  “I can’t do it, Logan,” Hana cried. “I can’t keep all these secrets anymore.”

  His breath caressed her left ear, his mouth near her cheek. “It’s fine,” he whispered. “We’ll sort it out.”

  Hana shook her head, feeling Logan’s stubble graze her cheek. “Can’t,” she sniffed. “I can’t, you can’t, nobody can.”

  Sensing her submission, Logan relaxed his grasp and turned Hana in his arms. His hold tightened again as her breasts rested against his tight stomach and his fingers stroked her back in slow, comforting movements. “Do you want me to help you find him?” he asked, his voice wavering and his eyes glittering like diamonds in a pale, distressed face.

  “Find who?” Hana freed her right hand and used her sweatshirt to wipe her nose, irritated by the prickling of the tears and snot on her skin. Her chest heaved and bucked with every breath and she wriggled inside the cage of Logan’s arms.

  “Flick.” He spat the word and his arms tightened, trapping Hana’s wrist against his armpit.

  Hana’s chest shuddered and she resorted to wiping her face on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “Why?” she asked, her tone flat.

  “So you can be with him,” Logan answered, eyes glittering as he looked down on her and his teeth grinding.

  “What?” Hana’s eyes widened in shock and she struggled against Logan’s grip, feeling his arms tense more instead of less. “That’s not what’s wrong with me!” Her voice rose as hysteria made its triumphant rise to the surface again. “Is that what you think?” She pushed against Logan’s chest and finding him immovable, kicked his shins with her feet encased in fluffy socks. His body shook, but he held on, his face blank and impassive as he fought the mask of indifference back into place.

  “Get off me!” Hana screamed, growing afraid as her tussle proved ineffective.

  “Tell me you want him instead of me and I’ll let you go.” Logan swallowed and Hana saw his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

  “I don’t want him!” she screamed, jumping up to shout at his chin.

  Logan’s face registered surprise and his arms relaxed. Hana morphed back into the angry pixie and she lifted her knee in the increased space, tipping her body backwards enough to knee Logan in the privates. He gave a roar and dropped his arms, his hands seeking to take the pain away. He swore and let out a stream of unintelligible Māori while Hana backed away, finding her bum against the side of the table. Logan stood up, one hand covering his groin and his face creased in pain. “Bloody hell, Hana!” he gasped.

  Remembering her husband’s haemophilia, Hana looked ashamed, growing quiet and still as her hands sought the marks from her son’s baby teeth around the table’s edge. “Sorry,” she conceded. “Sorry.”

  Logan shook his head, the colour returning to his olive cheeks. “Why the balls, wahine?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Hana shrugged, her heart pounding in her chest. “Couldn’t reach your head,” she replied honestly. She swallowed and glared at her husband. “You really think I’d leave you for Bobby?” Her voice sounded strained.

  “I don’t want you to,” he said, his eyes calmer than before. “But you scared me.”

  Hana sighed and used the bottom of her sweatshirt to dry her eyes. “You’re an idiot,” she said. “I don’t know why I love you.”

  Logan glanced towards the baby monitor on the bread board as Mac snuffled in his sleep. “We’ve woken him up,” he said, rubbing at his sore groin.

  Hana sniffed and covered her mouth with her hand. Tears bubbled from her eyes and ran over her fingers. “You don’t get it,” she sobbed. “You just don’t get it.”

  “Then bloody tell me!” Logan hissed, reaching Hana in one stride and pressing her face into his chest. “Stop trying to be a hero and level with me.” He kissed the top of her head and stroked the red curls which stretched down her back. “We’re meant to be a team.”

  “I don’t want to upset you,” Hana sniffed. “But this will.”

  “Just say it.” Logan cradled her to him, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “It can’t be worse than what I imagined. I believed you loved another man and it’s eaten me up. He was there and I wasn’t. He defended you, him and Sasha. It should’ve been me.”

  Hana took a deep breath, feeling Logan’s muscles tense in his chest and biceps. His head seemed to weigh heavily against hers, bowing her under the pressure. She disconnected, needing to see his eyes and read his reaction. Taking a step back, Hana faced her husband, watching curiosity and dread turn into an emotion she didn’t expect. She swallowed. “Mac’s deaf,” she said.

  Logan’s eyelashes fluttered and he dropped his gaze to the floor. His exhale seemed to come from the soles of his feet and he ran shaking fingers through his hair. “Like Jack?” he asked.

  Hana nodded, her eyes refilling with tears. “Maybe. The doctor doesn’t know yet.”

  Logan turned away and Hana resented him shrouding his reaction. The set of his shoulders helped her translate the cry of his heart. “You guessed,” she said, relief in her voice.

  When he looked at her, his grey eyes narrowed in pain. His shallow nod caused a flash of anger to erupt in Hana’s breast. “You knew and you let me bear it alone?” Her voice channelled betrayal.

  Logan nodded. “My deaf grandfather tried to kill you both and neither of us wanted the reminder, did we?” He chewed his lip and slumped into a kitchen chair. “What a mess.”

  Hana paused and then crossed the floor between them and dumped herself onto his knees. Logan wrapped his arms around her and pushed his face into her shoulder. “The hospital will send for us when they make an appointment,” Hana said, breathing in her husband’s familiar scent. “Being in Hamilton will help.”

  Logan nodded, his hair brushing against her sleeve. “We’ll be fine, Hana. If we stick together, it’ll be all right.”

  “Yeah,” Hana conceded. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it.”

  Logan sighed. “I’m sorry too.” He ran his hand up her thigh and let his fingers rove under her sweatshirt until they touched the smooth porcelain flesh. Hana shivered, her lungs still shaken from her crying and she held her breath, confused when he stopped with his fingers grazing her ribs. “Hana?” He raised his head, framing her face in his piercing grey eyes. She gulped, sensing trouble. “You said ‘secrets’ babe.” Logan’s eyelashes fluttered as he narrowed his gaze, his focus intense. “You can’t keep all these secrets anymore. So what else is there, Hana Du Rose?”

  Chapter 18

  Other People’s Dirty Washing

  Hana’s body froze on Logan’s legs and her brain worked like a windmill, sifting through ready answers and discarding them. She shook her head, damning the pink flush which speckled her cheeks and neck. “I said secret,” she lied, struggling to remember. “That was all. The possibility our son is deaf should be enough for you.” She shifted on his knees and felt his arms react, winding around her waist like supplejack vine and pinning her in place. Hana sighed. “You believed I had an affair with your stockman and wanted to run away with him. I didn’t. I don’t. There’s nothing else.”

  Logan’s expression remained intense and Hana cringed. “Why wait for ten months to broach it, anyway? Bobby left age ago.”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t want to face the t
ruth, I guess.” His nose wrinkled at the sides as he pulled a face. “I knew you wouldn’t do anything wrong. He admitted at the airport you’d given him no reason to believe you felt the same. But lately you seemed more distant and I wondered if you missed him. Your reaction when I told you he got a girlfriend made me read into it.”

  Hana cursed her overreaction and she shook her head. “I suppose when someone’s hero worshipped you for years, you kinda get used to it and take it for granted. I should be happy for him but I actually feel displaced. Is that stupid?”

  “Na. Guess not.” Logan’s gaze wandered to the broken crockery littering the kitchen floor. He sighed. “But if he ever comes back here, I’ll break his face, just like I promised.” Logan’s jaw worked under the skin and Hana snorted.

  “You threatened him?”

  “No.” Logan’s eyes flashed with dark danger. “I promised him what I’d do and I will. I don’t intend to lose you Hana so get used to it.”

  She nodded, her face shrouded with a careful mask and she dipped her head to nestle in the crook of his neck. Logan’s intensity terrified her, but she knew what she’d gotten into the moment he snagged her ring finger with the simple gold band. He would be her salvation and her gatekeeper, the Du Rose name pinning her to him like an invisible chain. Her nose touched the soft skin of Logan’s neck but he forced her backwards, strong fingers pressing against her shoulders. She slapped at his right hand, shoving it away. “Be careful of my pacemaker wires!” she complained, her eyes wide with fear as her hand sought the ridge beneath her collar bone. The old panic rose into her breast and she felt her heart race with anticipation.

  “Sorry.” Logan soothed her, pulling her fingers away and caressing them. “It’s fine, Hana. I’m sorry.”

  “I need to clean up the mess.” She sighed, hearing the tiredness in her voice.

  Logan shook his head. “No, Hana. What other secrets are there?”

  “Please don’t make me tell,” she begged, twisting her hands together in a dance of agitation. “They’re not mine to share.”

  “So there’s more than one.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Hana stood and picked her way through the broken crockery, snatching a broom from behind the laundry door. She swished the bristles until the shards obeyed, forming into a neat line. Logan found a dustpan and brush in the laundry and helped, sweeping up the debris and tipping it into the dustbin. When the floor looked clean Hana dealt with the remains of dinner, washing up, loading the dishwasher and clearing the table.

  Logan watched, arms folded across his broad chest and his bum leaned against the kitchen counter. Hana felt his gaze burning a hole in the back of her head. As the baby monitor registered a snuffle from her son, she seized the reprieve and edged towards the door on a pretense of putting a clean dinner plate back in the tall cupboard next to it. She turned ready to make a run for it and lock herself in the bathroom but contacted her husband’s chest with a grunt of pain. Logan caught her as she pitched sideways. “Do you think I was born yesterday?” he asked, picking her up in a fireman’s lift and dumping her over his shoulder.

  “Logan!” Hana hissed, thumping his back with her fists. “Put me down!”

  She watched his heels lift and fall as he walked through the lounge doors and closed them behind him. He selected the wide sofa and manhandled her into a sitting position, parking his bum on the solid coffee table and pinning her in place with his arms either side of her thighs. “Now,” he began, blinking with irritating slowness as he fixed his facial muscles into hard lines. “What secrets are there under my roof, Hana?”

  She relaxed on the seat cushion as Logan overplayed his hand. “None.” Her confident reply made him narrow his eyes and a smirk twitched at his lips.

  “You do realise my roof extends across the whole of Mātakitaki Mountain, don’t you?”

  “I thought you said I was an equal partner,” Hana sulked, pouting.

  Logan snorted a laugh. “Fine. What secrets are there under our roof, Hana?”

  Hana groaned. “Don’t make me, Logan. Please? It’s not mine to tell.”

  Logan leaned back, his brain working hard to decipher the source of her guilt. He lifted his hands and said the names of those she loved, counting them off on his fingers. “Will, Ryan, Tama’s not here.” He studied her face, finding her unflinching. Hana allowed a smug expression to slide into place, impressed with her poker face. “Alfred, Leslie,” Logan continued, halting as Hana’s pupils dilated and she blinked. She saw her husband taste victory and his lips widened in a smile. “What did they do, Hana?”

  “No!” She squirmed in the seat and Logan enjoyed her discomfort, replacing his sinewy arms either side of her legs.

  “What could they do to annoy me?” he mused, watching Hana’s distress. “It would need to be something that jeopardized the hotel, but was a secret due to its, what? Illegality?”

  Hana exhaled and Logan’s face changed to one of extreme alertness. “What’s happened, Hana? I need to know.”

  “He’ll never speak to me again; he’ll know I told you. Please Logan. Let’s deal with Macky and then I’ll tell you everything.”

  “No.” Logan sat up and Hana felt his disconnection like a physical pain. “I’m worried now. Just tell me.”

  Hana slumped in the seat and closed her eyes against his piercing grey eyes. “Alfred’s growing marijuana on the roof to control the effects of his arthritis.” She put her head in her hands and let bitterness seed her tone. “He’ll never forgive me now. He trusted me.”

  Logan snorted. “But not me.”

  Unable to answer that, Hana felt exhaustion bite at the outer edges of her psyche. Bone-tired, she ached for bed. Hazarding a glimpse at Logan’s face through her fingers she saw him deep in thought, his brow furrowed and his eyes glassy. “I hated lying to you,” she whispered and felt some of the weight lift from her shoulders. Logan’s complicity brought release. “I’ll tell you the other thing too. You’ll know what to do about it.”

  “What?” Logan licked his lips and his face showed curiosity.

  “It’s about Caroline Marsh,” Hana began. “I know something and it’s important...”

  Logan stood, his face screwed into a look of pure hatred. “I don’t care!” he bit. “Don’t mention her? I don’t want to hear her bloody name!”

  “But it’s the other secret,” Hana said, wounded by Logan’s reaction to the truth. “You wanted to know and now you don’t. That’s not fair. You started this.”

  Logan shook his head. “No thanks. If it’s to do with her, I’m not interested.” He backed away, catching his heel against the coffee table leg and stumbling. He raised his hand as Hana opened her mouth again, wincing as if she’d struck him a physical blow. “I’m surprised at you!” he snapped, disgust in his tone. Before Hana could speak again he’d gone and she heard the bedroom door close. She gave him time to cool off but after a few minutes she heard the front door slam. Dismayed, she ran to the hallway and saw the tail-lights of the ute dance like red demons in the darkness. Logan crested the rise at a dangerous speed and plunged down the narrow cliff road towards the hotel.

  “Bloody marvellous!” Hana shouted into the darkness. “Thanks for that! Honesty’s so overrated!”

  Hana checked on the sleeping children and covered up Wiri’s bare legs. He’d retreated to Tama’s empty bedroom and forced her to leave Mark a note warning him he had company. Her life felt cluttered with other people’s troubles and concerns and she put herself to bed with a half-finished novel. As the story failed to progress, she realised she’d reread the same page four times. Caroline’s elfin face pushed itself into her inner vision, smug, self-satisfied and dangerous. She’d lost Logan to Hana and settled on his half-brother, Kane, disappearing to Christchurch with him for a fresh start. Logan’s grandmother’s diaries betrayed a sickening legacy; one in which the older generation conspired to keep Caroline from ever gaining the Du Rose name. She’d jilted Logan at the alt
ar at the behest of her foster father, Reuben. In Hana’s mind she dug a confident hand through her cropped blonde hair and laughed, a cruel sound.

  Hana sat up in bed. “Oh Logan! Why wouldn’t you let me tell you?” Remembering the diary, she padded back to the dark kitchen and seized it from its resting place. “What trouble do you want to uncover now, kuia?” she whispered, stroking the soft cover with her fingertips and wincing at Will’s warning. “I don’t have gloves up here. Do you mind?”

  The book gave no answer, lying placid and heavy in her palms and Hana felt a sense of peace and satisfaction mixed with a frisson of fear and anticipation. What other damage could Phoenix Du Rose Senior do? Hana sighed. “I nearly told him, kuia,” she breathed. “I nearly told him what you set in motion. This is your fault.” Hana shivered in the cool air, a draught licking her bare toes and her heart drowning in regret. “And now I don’t know what to do.” She cradled the book of secrets to her breast and retraced her steps back to bed, praying it contained nothing more than a list of cattle prices and auction stories. But she’d read enough of Phoenix’s diaries to know her style and wished she could hand it back to Logan without reading it. Natural curiosity and loneliness won through and when Logan crawled into bed after a dreadful argument with Alfred, he eased the open book from her fingers and laid it on the bedside table.

  Chapter 19

  Guardianship

 

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