Page 105 of The Formation of Us

“The greenhouse isn’t my only concern here.” Radford’s scowl darkened, his temper escalating. “It’s that damned boy Rebecca’s been sneaking around with. She wouldn’t have been there if not for Adam. You keep him away from her, orI’mgoing to have a talk with him.”

Under the circumstances, Duke didn’t blame his brother for being angry and protective, but it galled him that Radford was dumping the blame on Adam’s shoulders. Rebecca had a mind of her own and was with Adam because she wanted to be.

This wasn’t the time or the place to argue about it, though.

He gave Radford a nod, then turned and jabbed his finger against Patrick’s chest. “I suspect the only reason Radford hasn’t throttled you for being such an idiot is because you’re a damn good friend. But if you and Iris want to get naked, do it on your own property or I’ll beat you myself.”

He walked away before he slugged Patrick for being so careless and stupid, and before he started an argument with Radford over the children.

No one ever told him that being a husband and father would be a continuous exercise in control. Only an hour ago he’d wanted to shake Adam until the boy confessed the truth about the fishing rod. But now he knew Adam was with Rebecca last Sunday afternoon when the rod was supposedly taken, and he didn’t know what to think about the theft. Adam couldn’t have been in two places at the same time.

But if Adam didn’t take the rod, how did it get on Duke’s boat? The dinghy was too well hidden for someone to stumble upon it. So Adam, or someone who knew where Duke kept his boat, put the rod there. Rebecca knew where he kept it, but she wouldn’t steal a piece of bread if she were starving.

His mind spun, gathering facts and sorting details as he walked to the greenhouse. Somehow he would figure out this mess, but his first order of business was to nail some female asses to the wall and put a stop to the rumors threatening his family

Chapter 32

The slam of the greenhouse door startled Faith, and she nearly dropped a jar of balm she’d been scenting with herbs. She looked up to see Duke standing inside the door, his face a mask of fury.

“Do you know what people are saying about you, Faith?” The indignant look on his face assured her it wasn’t good.

Her stomach plummeted and she clutched her fist to her belly, crushing the dried herbs in her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Are your aunts here?” he asked.

“Everyone except Dahlia. She took Cora to the store with her.”

“Do you have any customers?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Good.” He lifted his chin and his voice cracked through the greenhouse. “Iris Wilde, get your ass out here! Aster and Tansy! Wherever you are, get out here.”

Faith gasped, fearing what was coming.

Tansy flitted out from behind a large cluster of Saint-John’s-wort, her eyes wide. Aster stepped in from the bathhouse, wiping her hands on her apron and scowling like a mother.

“What are you yelling about?” she asked, pushing her way through the plants.

“Where’s Iris?” he asked.

“Right here,” Iris said, descending the stairs with pinched lips and an arched eyebrow. “What are you riled about?”

“I’ll give you a list.” Duke lifted his fist and raised his thumb. “First, Wayne Archer says Doc Milton is bragging about the private treatments Aster is giving him on the second floor.”

“He is?” Aster’s lips tilted in a pleased smile. Duke’s scowl darkened.

“Second . . .” He glared at Tansy. “Archer says his wife saw you and Cyrus out here kissing like two overheated lovers.”

“Wearelovers,” she said meekly.

“I don’t give a damn!” Duke swatted the bush of lemongrass in front of him. “Do you women realize that you’ve jeopardized my family’s reputation?” He strode five paces then slammed his fist on the counter. Faith dropped the jar she held, and it shattered on the floor.

“My mother and my sisters-in-law put their reputations on the line when they promoted this business to their friends. My brothers spent two weeks pounding nails in that building next door so you women could have a decent place to live. And what do they get for their kindness?” he asked, his voice cracking with righteous anger. “They get put in the middle of a nasty rumor that could shred their reputations. My brother’s daughter saw something no child should see. And I get the pleasure of being responsible for all of this.”

Iris braced her hand on the railing. “You’re overwrought, Sheriff—”

“You’re damned right I am!” He jabbed his finger toward her. “You’re the worst offender, Iris! My niece, an innocent little girl, saw you and Patrick . . . fondling each other upstairs last Sun-day.Nochild should see that, damn it!” He slammed his fist on the counter again. “I’m fighting the urge to send you packing.”