Du Rose Family Ties

by Bowes, K T

  “I can’t talk here.”

  A group of loud tourists emerged, their excited chatter conducted in French rapped out like gunfire. They waved a map of the site without understanding and Logan stepped forward. “The stables are that way.” He pointed towards the north side of the house and smiled, his understanding rewarded by smiles and waves as he repeated the instructions in fluent French.

  “Show off,” Hana grumbled.

  Phoenix blew kisses through the car window and pointed to her shortened ponytail. Hana stared in horror and Logan gave a low chuckle. “The barber snipped off two hairs and turned the wee bunch into a man-bun. She thinks he cut heaps off and showed everyone in the cafe.”

  “Cafe?” Hana frowned, her face betraying hurt that while she sat freezing on the hotel steps, her family enjoyed treats in a warm cafe.

  “Yeah. Sorry. I was trying to give you some time to yourself.” Logan ran a hand through his fringe, pushing it backwards so he could look at Hana’s disgruntled expression. “It went a bit wrong though, sorry.” Strong hands pushed Hana towards the ute and she clambered in, greeted by the children’s enthusiasm and eagerness to show her their new hairstyles.

  “Mine’s just like Papa’s,” Wiri announced, unclipping his seatbelt and twirling for Hana to admire his head.

  Phoenix became apoplectic, pointing at his disconnected state and hitting him until the boy clambered back into his booster chair and clicked the seatbelt closed. “Naughty!” she shouted at him, her eyes filling with tears of horror. “That very very bad!”

  “Your hair’s beautiful, but she’s right, Wiri,” Hana confirmed. “Don’t undo it without asking, please.”

  “Okay, Mama.” He sounded chastened but his eyes remained bright as he checked himself out in the reflection from the window.

  Logan dismantled the pram and removed the car seat from the pram frame, inserting it into the ute and bringing a draught with him. When he closed the door, Mac’s eyes opened and Phoenix leaned sideways and patted his hand. “Goin’ home, Macky!” she shouted and Hana’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t yell at him, Phoe!”

  “He hearin’ me, den,” she said, nodding like a bobble-head toy. She reached across and touched the tiny mittened hand and smiled, her face embracing the movement with wholehearted enthusiasm. Mac watched for a moment and then returned her grin, closing his eyes and turning his face away, even though his expression remained smug. Phoenix kept hold of his hand and watched him with maternal affection.

  Logan reached across for Hana’s hand, his fingers straying above the glove to her wrist. “You’re freezing, babe. I’m sorry.”

  “Can I play wiv the worm on your phone, Pa?” Wiri called, leaning forward and straining against his seat belt.

  “No!” Logan turned his head as he cranked up the heat in the interior. “It must’ve beeped to warn you the battery was running out. You know you’re meant to tell me.”

  “I fought it had loads left.” Wiri’s voice assumed a whine and Hana heaved an audible sigh.

  “I need to talk to you when we get back.” Her eyes strayed to the side of his face as the ute turned towards home, pushing up the steep mountain road with a growling engine. Logan’s brow knitted and concern etched into his expression.

  “That sounds bad. Am I in trouble?” He gave her a puppy-dog sideways look and Hana smirked, watching him squirm. A powerful, authoritative alpha male, few things rocked Logan’s world except a threat to his whānau or Hana’s displeasure.

  “No.” She shook her head. “But someone is and I’m afraid it’ll backfire on you.”

  “Great.” Logan floored the gas and forced the ute up the hill, a sense of urgency settling on his shoulders.

  Darkness closed around them and Hana rustled up a quick meal of pasta and mince while Logan showered the children and got them ready for bed. Mac appeared in his highchair licking his lips and Hana caught the scent of kawakawa as she put his beaker of warm milk on the tray in front of him. “I’ll just get the others,” Logan said, shooting her a concerned glance as he left the room.

  They conducted the meal in subdued silence, Logan worried and the children tired. Mac’s face drooped over his bowl as Hana pushed food between his lips. Bedtime seemed faster than usual with Logan acting as the sheep dog, driving the little people into bed and ignoring their complaints and manufactured ailments. “I’ll get cross, Wiri,” he warned the boy as he dug his heels in, demanding drinks, stories, long conversations and a manhunt for his favourite teddy. “You didn’t even bring that here!” Logan said, his voice sounding stressed. “Just get into bed.”

  “Stop!” Hana told the child, leaning over him and pressing her lips to his forehead. “You’re playing up now and it’s not fair. We’re tired too so get to sleep.”

  Logan smoothed the gel onto Mac’s gums as Hana kissed her daughter’s head in the room next door. “Sleep tight, baby,” she said with a smile, stroking the soft curls back from her forehead and listening to the gentle suck of her thumb between her lips. “I love your new haircut.”

  “Fanks, Mama.” Phoenix smiled from around her thumb but didn’t remove it. Hana dimmed the hall light to a muted glow and made her way back to the kitchen. She found Logan snagging the top from a bottle of beer and he indicated a glass of red wine on the table for her.

  “Let’s go in the lounge,” Hana said, shivering against the sinking temperature. “Light a fire and we’ll talk.”

  Logan made an art form out of fire making in the burner, laying kindling with precision beneath heavy logs cut from the bush and dried in the shed. He prodded newspaper between the gaps and struck a match. Hana watched as it flared, curling her toes beneath her and sipping the wine. Logan fiddled with the fire, checking the draw from the flu and then propping the heavy glass door open to monitor the flames. “What’s up?” he asked, glancing once before shifting the handle to increase the air flow beneath the fire and closing the glass door.

  “I went for a walk and ended up at the stables.” Hana took a sip of her wine. “I heard Linc coming and he sounded angry so I freaked out and hid in Sacha’s stall.”

  Logan snorted a laugh, but the smile faded from his lips at Hana’s look of disapproval. “He’s unpredictable, served prison time for murder and nobody knew where I’d walked to.”

  “Manslaughter.” Logan corrected her. “Not murder. Accidental death caused by something he did.”

  “Whatever!” Hana felt her patience stretch and become frayed. “I heard him on the phone. Whoever he spoke to sounded involved with the court case. Lincoln thanked them for paying his legal costs. The thing is, he’s up to something. He said it’s his life and he’ll do what he wants. What could that mean?”

  “I don’t know!” Logan shrugged with irritation. “Maybe he’s gonna live on ice cream for a month. The guy can do what he wants.”

  “That’s what he said.” Hana narrowed her eyes. “The other person on the call tried to talk him out of it though, so it’s something serious. I need to work out who he spoke to and then maybe I’ll know what he’s planning. Who else besides you helped him?”

  “What if I said nobody?” Logan’s eyes narrowed, glinting like crystals behind long, dark eyelashes.

  “Then I’d call you a liar,” Hana retorted. “Your phone battery died, which means Lincoln didn’t speak to you and I don’t think you had anything to do with his crime. There must be someone else.”

  Logan chewed on the inside of his cheek and laid back, long legs stretched out in front of him. He put his arms behind his head and gave her a lazy smile. “We’ve come a long way, Mrs Du Rose,” he drawled. “You didn’t even suspect me.”

  Hana swallowed more wine and held back her retort, seeing the truth in his statement. She daren’t admit she’d marched their son across the stable yard to confront Lincoln and then bottled out. Logan crossed his legs at the ankles and Hana watched his brain move into gear. “A few of us helped him. He behaved like a dick but he didn’t kill he
r so we all pitched in and funded his legal fees. We grew up together in the township and that’s what whānau does, I guess. Linc worked for Jack after school. His wife got a partnership at a doctors’ surgery in South Auckland and he commuted here in about half an hour in good traffic. Sometimes he stayed in the bunkhouse if it got too late to go home. I came back from England around the time the police arrested him and Lincoln didn’t get bail. The evidence according to my sister was circumstantial, based on his affair with the dead woman and the presence of his DNA at her house. He promised us he didn’t do it and we believed him.”

  “He cheated on his wife?” Hana’s lip curled back in disdain and Logan gave a slow nod.

  “Yeah. Stupid idiot.”

  “Where did the woman live?” Hana asked. “Nobody’s mentioned it until recently.”

  “In the township.” Logan sat up and examined a healing cut on his index finger. “I don’t know why Lincoln got involved.”

  “But the point of my eavesdropping was that Lincoln’s up to something and the other person on the phone tried to stop him doing it.”

  “Doing what?” Logan frowned.

  “I don’t know!” Hana bit. “That’s why I’m asking you. Is it possible he did kill her and you’re all wrong about his innocence?”

  Logan shook his head and then halted the movement, doubt creeping into his eyes. “What exactly did he say?”

  Hana stared at the ceiling to get her facts straight and then repeated Lincoln’s sentence. “He said, ‘I appreciated your help with the lawyer’s fees but I paid the price for what I did. I’m doing this and I don’t care who gets hurt.’ What could that mean? Who might get hurt?”

  “Dunno.” Logan chewed his lower lip. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

  “No!” Hana squeaked, slopping wine over her hand and licking it off. “Then you’ll have to tell him I hid in the stable listening to a private conversation.”

  “Well, you did.” Logan’s smirk curved his face and the scar under his right eye crinkled. A dimple appeared to the left of his mouth from another old injury and Hana squirmed in her seat.

  “Please don’t?” she begged. “I’ll do anything.” The words were airborne before she realised her mistake and she flapped her hand trying to take it back.

  “Anything?” Logan crawled across the hearth rug on all fours and settled himself in front of Hana. He lifted the wine glass from her fingers and his lazy smile oozed sex appeal. “I like the sound of anything. What’s it worth?”

  Hana giggled as he dug his fingers into her waist and tickled the sensitive flesh. She caved forwards and his lips nibbled at her neck, drawing a groan from deep in her throat. “The kids might come in,” she whispered, glancing towards the door as Logan undid the buttons of her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders.

  “Let’s go to bed then,” he murmured from beneath her hair.

  Hana sighed and glanced at the flickering flames behind the glass doors of the stove. “Seems a shame to waste a good fire.”

  Chapter 23

  No conclusions

  The chill air gnawed at Hana’s skin and forced a groan from her lips as she settled her face on Logan’s chest. “You’ve got all the warmth,” she grumbled, pushing her hand across his stomach to where the fire glowed in the darkness.

  “We can swap,” Logan offered. “I’m melting.”

  Hana clambered across him, taking the blanket with her and exposing him to the cool draught. “See, it’s horrid,” she muttered, plonking herself down nearest the fire.

  “Yeah, thanks for sharing that,” Logan sighed. “I believed you when you said it was cold on that side; you didn’t need to prove it by nicking the blanket.”

  Hana replaced the hairy woollen throw diagonally across them both. It covered her but left Logan’s long legs and slender feet exposed. “You should’ve left your socks on,” she commented, rewarded with a disgusted snort.

  “Yeah, because wearing only socks is sexy.” Logan cuddled her close into his chest and rested his chin on her head.

  “Who else gave Lincoln financial backing?” Hana asked and Logan snuffled.

  “I hoped you’d leave that well alone but I guess not.”

  “Who?” Hana persisted.

  Logan sighed. “I gave some, Alfred did, Michael, Toby, quite a few of the stockmen. Even Jack donated. Lincoln’s mum sold her car and threw that in and heaps of the township helped. Some could only give ten bucks but they believed he didn’t kill her so they pitched in with what little they had.”

  “Who didn’t donate?” Hana looked for a different approach.

  “I don’t know if anyone on the other side of the mountain got involved.” Logan scratched his stubble and Hana listened to the sound of his fingernails on the rugged flesh. “Even if they believed Lincoln innocent, Rueben might’ve stopped them chipping in because he always chose contrary to everyone else.”

  “Well, whoever Lincoln spoke to on the phone gave him money for his defense. They don’t want him to do something. What could it be?”

  Logan shrugged. “Not sure. Pania died about eleven years ago and Linc served ten years of a fifteen-year sentence. He turned up at the hotel and said they released him early. It made sense to give him a chance; he ran the stables under Jack before so it seemed a good solution.”

  “Who goes back to where it all happened and settles there?” Hana mused.

  “Lots of people.” Logan turned on his side and snuggled her into his chest, tickling her nose with the downy hairs. “Liza said the evidence against him was circumstantial; wrong place, wrong time. The prosecutor put a convincing enough case together to prove him guilty.”

  “Lincoln’s poor wife.” Hana sighed. “Isn’t it tragic enough to find out your husband’s been having an affair with another woman, only to discover he’s accused of killing her as well?”

  Logan shifted on the hearth rug. “Doesn’t it sound familiar?” His voice lowered to a rumble. “You thought I’d moved Ryan’s mother in last year and then the boys found her dead behind Nev’s place.”

  Hana shivered. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why it’s affected me so much. Shades of familiarity.”

  Logan pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “I didn’t cheat or kill Sylvia. Lincoln did cheat but maintains he’s innocent of Pania’s death.”

  “Why manslaughter?” Hana felt the heat burning the base of her spine and wrinkled her nose in discomfort, wishing she’d stayed on the other side of Logan.

  He groaned. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”

  Hana snuffled into his chest. “Nope.”

  “The original charge was murder, but half way through the trial Linc’s defense collapsed and the judge directed the jury to find him guilty of manslaughter.”

  Hana pushed herself up onto one elbow. “How can a defense just collapse?”

  “Dunno.” Logan sighed. “Ring Liza and ask her.”

  Hana snorted. “No thanks. I don’t want to know badly enough to risk getting my head ripped off by your sister.”

  “It started as murder and ended up as a lesser charge of manslaughter as far as I recall. I still don’t think he did it. I do remember that at the last minute, Linc refused to take the stand in his own defense. It disappointed everyone and that’s why there’s animosity to him now; people backed him and felt cheated. It put doubt in their minds and left a nasty taste.”

  “What happened to his mother? She sold her car to help pay for his defense so where is she now? Why doesn’t Lincoln live with her instead of at the motel?”

  Logan closed one eye and stared at the ceiling. “I think she died.”

  “How?”

  “Can’t remember, Hana. I’d got problems of my own by the time the trial happened.”

  “Did you go to it?”

  “No. I worked during the week on the north shore and drove home at weekends to stick the farm back together. I spent that few years riding around with a dark cloud over my head.”

  Hana purse
d her lips and tried not to focus on his relationship with Caroline during that period of his life, but jealousy flashed in her green eyes and she directed it elsewhere. “What’s his wife to you?” She pressed to the core of a different sort of pain, remembering Fiona’s open animosity towards Logan.

  “Second or third cousin.” Logan shifted and Hana heard the smile in his voice. “Why? You jealous? I think I had my first French kiss with her. Ouch!” Logan pushed his hands between his legs as Hana lifted her knee with force.

  “I didn’t want that much detail!” No humour laced her tone, only aggression and pique.

  “Good job I didn’t then,” Logan groaned. “Can’t you take a joke?”

  “No.” Hana’s lips lifted in an evil smirk. “Only I get to French kiss you, do you hear?”

  “Fine!” Logan snapped. “Then get here because you need the practice.” He rolled her onto her back and pinned her in place with his thigh, tickling her ribs until she collapsed beneath him like a jelly, weak from giggling.

  Chapter 24

  Pulling Uphill

  The move to Hamilton wasn’t without its stresses as Hana readied three small children and three adults for the shift south. Phoenix and Mac went without fuss but Wiri and Caleb proved more difficult.

  “What about school?”

  “I’ve found you one along the road and I’ll organise a uniform when we get there.”

  “But I like my school.”

  “You said you didn’t!” Hana swallowed her irritation and fixed a smile on her lips.

  “But I like it better than a new one.” Wiri’s bottom lip stuck out and his grey eyes widened with anxiety.

  “Logan, help me,” Hana hissed, appealing to her husband’s wisdom as the small boy dug his heels in, removing everything from the suitcase that belonged to him and piling it on the floor.

  Logan stopped tapping on the laptop and turned his body to face the suitcase and distressed child. Hana walked behind him to snag Mac’s toy rabbit off the back of the sofa and saw a bank account statement sprawled across the screen in a complicated spreadsheet. “Sorry,” she said with a sigh. “You’re busy.”