Rowan Ashford's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Rowan woke before Collin and went to the bathroom with the box she had hidden under the sink for three days. Her father was due at noon. She had put it off long enough. She sat on the tile and watched the small window on the strip. The second line came up fast and pink, brighter than the control line above it. She held it in her lap and counted her breaths. She was not sick. She was pregnant. She washed her face and looked at the ring on her hand, the plain band with the bright stone he had set on the table in a blizzard. She thought about telling him alone in the kitchen. Then she heard tires on the drive and knew her father was early. Teddy never knocked. The front door opened and his boots hit the hall. Collin came down the stairs in a clean shirt to meet him. Rowan slid the strip into her sweater pocket and went down. Teddy sat at the table with his coat still on and complained about the road. Collin poured him coffee and asked after the drive the way a man asks a man he is trying to keep. Rowan stood at the counter and cut bread she did not want. Her hand shook once on the knife. Collin saw it. He set the pot down and came around and put his palm flat between her shoulders. "You all right," he said. Not a question the way he said it. She took the strip out of her pocket and put it on the counter between the bread and the butter. "I took it this morning," she said. "It's positive." Collin looked at the strip. He looked at her. He did not say anything for a long moment. Then he laughed once, short, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Okay," he said. "Okay. We can do that." Behind them Teddy set his cup down hard enough to hear. "Well," he said. "That was quick." He looked at Collin, not at Rowan. "You take care of her in this house, or I take the house back." Collin held her eyes. "I will," he said. Teddy stayed for lunch and left before the light went. Rowan walked him to the truck and let him kiss the top of her head, which he had not done since she was ten. When she came back inside Collin was still standing by the counter with the strip in his hand. "I want to tell Nova," she said. "After the twins settle." He nodded. He put the strip in the drawer with the good spoons and closed it. The small thing had closed. The nine months in front of her had just opened, and her father's warning sat in the room with them.