Page 75 of Irish Rose
“That’s enough. Do you really believe I’m some weak-minded female who can’t say yes or no? I had a choice and I chose you. And not for your bloody money.”
It was her turn to rage around the room. “I’m sick to death of having to find ways to prove that I love you. I’ll not be denying that I wanted more out of life than a few acres of dirt and someone else’s dishes to wash. And I’m not ashamed of it. But hear this, Burke Logan, I’d have found a way to get it for myself.”
“I never doubted it.”
“You think I married you for this house?” She threw up her arms as if to encompass every room. “Well, set a match to it, then, it doesn’t matter to me. You think it’s for all those fine stocks and bonds? Take them all, take every last scrap of paper and put it on one spin of the wheel. Whether you win or lose makes no difference to me. And these?” She pulled open her dresser and yanked out boxes of jewelry. “These pretty shiny things? Well, take them to hell with you. I love you—God himself knows why, you thickheaded, miserable excuse for a man. Not know what kind of man I married, is it?” She tossed the jewelry aside and stormed around the room. “I know well enough who and what you are. More fool I am for not giving a damn and loving you anyway.”
“You don’t know anything,” he said quietly. “But if you’d sit down I’ll tell you.”
“You won’t tell me anything I don’t know. Do you think I care you grew up poor without a father? Oh, you don’t need to look that way. Rosa told me weeks ago. Do you think I care if you lied or cheated or stole? I know what it is to be poor, to need, but I had my family. Can’t I feel sorry for the boy without thinking less of the man?”
“I don’t know.” She rocked him, but then it seemed she never failed to do so. “Sit down, Erin, please.”
“I’m sick to death of sitting. Just like I’m sick to death of walking on eggs with you. Ididnearly die. I thought I was going to die, and all I could think was how much time we’d wasted being at odds. I swore if we were back together there’d be no more fighting. Now for days I’ve held my temper, I’ve said nothing when you turn away from me. But no more. If you’ve any more questions, Burke Logan, you’d best out with them, because I’ve plenty more to say myself.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
That stopped her cold. Her mouth fell open, and for all her talk about not sitting, she lowered herself onto the bed. “How do you know?”
Burke drew out the paper he’d found and handed it to her. “You’ve known for a month.”
“Aye.”
“Didn’t you intend to tell me, or were you just going to take care of it yourself?”
“I meant to tell you, but... What do you mean, take care of it myself? I could hardly keep it a secret when—” She stopped again as the realization hit like a wall. “That’s what you thought I’d gone to the hospital for today. You thought I’d gone there to see that there would be no baby.” She let the paper slip to the floor as she rose again. “Youarea bastard, Burke Logan, that you could think that of me.”
“What the hell was I supposed to think? You’ve had a month to tell me.”
“I’d have told you the day I found out. I came to tell you. I could hardly wait to get the words out, but you started in on me about the money and the letter from my father. It always came down to the money. I put my heart on a platter for you time after time, and you keep handing it back to me. No more of that, either.” She was ashamed of the tears, but more ashamed to wipe them away. “I’ll go back to Ireland and have the baby there. Then neither of us will be in your way.”
Before she could storm out of the room he asked, “You want the baby?”
“Damn you for a fool, of course I want the baby. It’s our baby. We made it our first night together in this bed. I loved you then, with my whole heart, with everything I had. But I don’t now. I detest you. I hate you for letting me love you this way and never giving it back to me. Never once taking me in your arms and telling me you loved me.”
“Erin—”
“No, don’t you dare touch me now. Not now that I’ve made as big a fool of myself as any woman could.” She’d thrown up both hands to ward him off. She couldn’t bear to have his pity. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want the baby and me with it when you found out. That wasn’t part of the bargain, was it? You wouldn’t be so free and easy to come and go if there was a baby to think of.”
He remembered the day she’d come to tell him about the baby, and the look in her eyes. Just as he remembered the look in her eyes when she’d left without telling him. He chose his words carefully now, knowing he’d already made enough mistakes.
“Six months ago you’d have been right. Maybe even six weeks ago, but not now. It’s time we stopped moving in circles, Irish.”
“And do what?”
“It’s not easy for me to say what I feel. It’s not easy for me to feel it.” He approached her cautiously, and when she didn’t back away he rested his hands on her shoulders. “I want you, and I want the baby.”
She closed her fingers tightly over the ring she still had in her hand. “Why?”
“I didn’t think I wanted a family. I swore when I was a kid that I’d never let anyone hurt me the way my mother had been hurt. I’d never let anyone mean so much that the life went out of me when they left. Then I went to Ireland and I met you. I’d still be there if you hadn’t come back with me.”
“You asked me to come here to keep your books.”
“It was as good an excuse as any, for both of us. I didn’t want to care about you. I didn’t want to need to see you just to get through the day. But that’s the way it was. I pulled you into marriage so fast because I didn’t want to give you a chance to look around and find someone better.”
“Seems to me I’d had chance enough.”
“You’d never even been with a man before.”
