Wild Star (Star Quartet 3)

Laurel and Drew were seated on the front veranda when Byrony, laughing and shouting at Brent, reined in her mare. The mare skidded and Byrony suddenly felt herself falling sideways.

“Byrony!” Drew shouted, leaping from his chair and running toward her.

But Brent caught her easily and straightened her in the saddle. “Easy, I don’t want you eating dirt.”

“Dammit, Byrony. What are you doing?”

Both Brent and Byrony turned, startled, to face Drew.

“She’s quite all right, Drew,” Brent said, his eyebrow inching up in question.

“We were just racing.”

“For God’s sake,” Drew shouted. “Both of you are idiots. You could have hurt the baby, Byrony.”

Brent froze. He gazed from his wife’s suddenly flushed, guilty face to his brother’s worried expression. “Baby?” he said blankly.

“Of course,” Drew snapped. “Byrony’s pregnant.”

Very slowly Brent clasped his wife about the waist and lifted her from her mare’s back. “Are you pregnant?”

She nodded.

“Go inside. I will speak to you shortly.”

She walked into the house. Brent was furious, just as she’d known he would be. He didn’t want the responsibility of a child, the commitment it would mean to her. Perhaps he was a bit worried that she could die. How had Drew known? It was still the very early days yet. She was more tired than usual, but she hadn’t had any nausea in the mornings.

“What is the matter with you, Brent?” Drew asked, grabbing his brother’s arm and shaking it.

“Just how, may I ask, did you know Byrony was pregnant?” Brent asked in a low voice.

THIRTY-ONE

“I’m an artist, Brent. I see things other people don’t. It’s part of my talent, I suppose. Are you telling me you didn’t know?”

“No, my wife hadn’t seen fit to inform me. I suppose too that you can tell me just how far along she is.”

“Around two months, I’d say.”

Brent unconsciously patted his stallion’s nose when the horse whinnied for attention. He felt very peculiar, as if the proverbial carpet had just been jerked from beneath his feet. A father. He would be a father.

He felt Drew’s hand on his arm. “I’ve heard that women many times keep such news to themselves for a while. Miscarriage is very common, you know, and they don’t want hopes to be raised—”

“Byrony won’t have a miscarriage,” Brent said.

“Probably not, but she must take better care of herself.”

“Such as not dashing off like she did to save Lizzie?”

“Look, Brent,” Drew began, only to pause at his brother’s expression. He followed Brent’s eyes upward to the second floor and saw his hands clench into fists at his sides.

Byrony stood silently in the middle of the room, wondering where Brent was. She heard the door open and turned around to face her husband. But it wasn’t Brent. It was Laurel.

“Well, my dear stepdaughter-in-law, what a surprise. Such a pity that Drew couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“It had to come out in any case,” Byrony said. “One does tend to gain flesh, you know, Laurel.”

“Thank God I don’t know. I do wonder what Brent will do with you. Such a pity, as I said, that the proud papa couldn’t control his feelings and not speak out so precipitately.”