Marcus came home dejectedly. He didn't want to leave Grace, but Ingrid knew where he was.
"Marcus, is that you?" Ingrid called from the huge kitchen.
"Yeah." Marcus went to the liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, looked at a glass but decided against it. He opened the bottle and swallowed half its contents before he sat down.
"Ingrid, do you want to come in here?"
Ingrid walked in, wiping her hands on a towel. She looked breathtaking, as she always did.
"What's wrong?" She asked, eyeing the half-drunk bottle of scotch on the table. She had only brought it last week, and it wasn't open before Marcus had gone to Drovers Run.
Marcus looked Ingrid in the eye. "Grace is pregnant."
Ingrid barely blinked. "What does that have to do with your drinking half a bottle of scotch?"
"It has everything to do with it. Ingrid... I'm the father."
A million thoughts ran through Ingrid's head. "When was this?"
Marcus decided against telling the truth. "Before the drove. That day she saw you in Spencer."
Ingrid seemed to relax. "Oh, so it wasn't something... more recent?"
"No way." Marcus was relieved. She seemed to have fallen for it. "Nothing like that."
"Alright, if you say so." Ingrid was fuming inside. "How far along is she?"
"Six weeks."
"OK. I had better finish making tea." With that Ingrid walked back into the kitchen, her mind already forming a plan...