Sunday afternoon. A week since the thing with Jackson nobody's supposed to mention.

Everyone's sitting down to an early dinner when the talk turns to how the sheep are doing. Bud gets that sly look, the one that means trouble, and mentions — real casual — that some of the females look like they're expecting. Happened pretty recently, he adds. Glances across the table.

Jackson freezes, fork halfway to his mouth.

Dean shoots him a look, delighted. Nick and Violet snicker. And Laura goes very, very still, because if there's a weak link in this family it's Dean, and right now he is trembling with the effort of keeping his mouth shut.

They'd shelved it. They hadn't forgotten. A Montgomery never does.

… and that's only Chapter Eleven.