setting a tiny floral teacup in front of him. How the hell was he supposed to loosen up with that little bit of sustentation? Askingfor a shot of whiskey in it would likely get him in big trouble with the ladies, so he bit his tongue and tried to unscramble his thoughts.
Liberty patted his shoulder, smiling down at him sympathetically.
“What?” he said. “What the hell am I not getting?”
“That Pepper had a love interest, and the odds of him not knowing about his boys are probably about as good as none of us knowing. Especially since most of us thought we were pretty close to Pepper, didn’t we?” she asked, gently kneading Duke’s shoulder.
“Well, hell, yeah.” He looked at Zach. “So tell me.”
“Jeez, Duke,” his brother said, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere but four feet away from him. “Of course you know who the father of those kids is. You’re just not thinking.”
He didn’t want to think. As far as he knew, Pepper had never had a boyfriend…. Light flashed behind his eyes as he thought back to the summer she was seventeen, with a terribly immature crush on—“No,” he said. “They can’t be his. It has to be someone she met at college.”
They all stared at him, and Duke’s scalp began to crawl. “You’re not saying those boys are Luke McGarrett’s, are you?” he asked, horrified. “Why, they were never serious about each other! I don’t think they had more than one or two dates before he left town, and I don’t know if I’d even call those dates!”
Zach shrugged. “The boys are the right age.”
Helen sighed. “And, unfortunately, they are the spitting image of Luke.”
Pain crashed into Duke’s chest. “I’ll kill him!”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Helen said sternly. She stood up, glancing around the room. “Overreaction is exactly why Pepper never felt that she could come to us. Any of us. Think about the secrets we’ve kept over the years. Think about that damn box you guard so jealously in your cell, Hiram, which has every piece of information about this town in it. Everyone has something they’ve kept to themselves…. Only Pepper did it for a long time and with no one to advise her. Not from this community, anyway. She was just a girl when she left but now she’s a woman. A mother. Don’t dare think to harm someone she never felt needed harming.”
Duke began to pace. “How could he not know? The weasel probably did know, and that’s why he’s never returned to Tulips.”
“No.” Bug shook his head. “Luke’s old man says his boy is just lucky, which I found a strange comment from a man who didn’t get along with his only child. But I don’t think McGarrett meant it as a compliment. He said there was no luck in Tulips for Luke, so he hit the rodeo like many other hotheaded young men around here. He cowboyed, and won. Then he decided he needed more danger and worked as a rodeo clown. He was lucky, and saved the son of a retired U.S. general from a severe goring. The grateful general hired Luke to vacation with him onhis party barge—McGarrett said it was a yacht, but to his mind, it was likely just a floating party—for the summer, though Luke’s main focus is protecting the general’s family. Being lucky, Luke invested the money he earned in the stock market and made a fortune. He then parlayed the money into commercial real estate investments, which were touched by gold. He’s so fortunate that even the general’s daughters now travel with him, considering him the best man they’ve ever known besides their father. Three months has turned into a year of work as a bodyguard, and old man McGarrett says the only reason he knows any of this is because of his connections in the military, some old chums of his who keep up with him.” Bug scratched his head. “Of course, none of this was said with a fatherly gleam of pride in McGarrett’s eyes. I got the distinct impression he equates ‘lucky’ with