“Which means?” he asked, smiling.
“I help decide who gets funding and make sure everything stays in order, for the trusts and the recipients.”
“You look just like her,” Teddy said. “Same eyes, lighter hair. I knew you as soon as I laid eyes on you.”
“But you didn’t say anything,” she murmured, glancing at him.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t approve of lying, not one bit. But I know a little about your family. I figure you’ve got your reasons and will straighten things out when the time is right.” He nodded at her. “Question is, why are you here, Miss Monroe?”
“I’m working that out.” She stared at him, stunned by Teddy’s calm. “I have questions you might be able to answer.”
He nodded. “It’s not too hot out yet. We could take a walk, if you like?”
She stared at the man. She liked him. But would he tell her something that would change that—and alter the way she thought of her mother forever? Could she blame her mother if...if things had developed between them?
Yes. She could.
She’d never cheated on Clark. Never thought about it. Her word was all she had that was hers free and clear to give. She’d left Clark. She hoped her mother would do the same before she’d move on to another man.
But...she needed to know. She needed to understand her father.
“Ten minutes?” she asked, needing time to pull herself together. And morning hugs from the girls.
“Take all the time you need,” he offered. “Just so you know, there’s nothing to be said that would prevent your girls and Clara from coming, Eden.”
She stared at him for a long time, wondering if that meant that he’d edit his responses or that the niggling fear in her gut was completely unfounded. Either way, she returned to the dining room in time for Lily to start crying. After a long night of teething and lost sleep, it made sense to pack them up for a change of scenery. Better than keeping Clara cooped up with a fussy baby.
She scooped up her daughter, smiling at the giggle her baby made as they spun. “Let’s take a walk with Mr. Boone,” she said, noting the smile on Clara’s face.
In ten minutes, they were strolling along one of the stone-lined paths that made sure visitors didn’t stray too far from civilization. Eden cradled Lily, bouncing her or patting her little back to soothe her baby’s teething discomfort.
“Poor little thing,” Teddy said. “Hurting but no one can fix it.”
Eden kissed her daughter’s temple, glancing back to see Ivy pointing at the ducks on the pond behind the Lodge. Clara pulled a bag of crackers out and the two of them fed the ducks while she and Teddy wandered a few feet away.
She saw no point in beating around the bush, so she asked, “How do you know my mother?”
“Your mother and my wife, Mags, met in college. They roomed together the first couple of years. Before me and your daddy came along.”
Eden looked at him. “And then?”
“Your father is a mite competitive.” He grinned. “While your momma was helping me win Mags’s heart, he thought I was after Rachel. Don’t think he ever let go of that notion, either.”
Eden smiled, a hard smile. No, maybe he hadn’t. “But you loved your wife.”
“Still do.” He nodded. “Rachel was a good girl, sweet and funny. She was a good friend to Mags, and to me.”
Eden nodded. “She had the best laugh.”
“And the two of them together, my Mags and Rachel?” He shook his head. “You heard them laughing, you had to laugh, too.”
Eden smiled at him, adjusting Lily against her shoulder.
“We, your dad and me, didn’t get on. Went from barely friendly to fighting—I’m not proud of it but it’s true.” He shook his head. “Made it hard for the ladies to stay friends.” He shrugged. “Your mom visited here twice. The first time, your brother was at camp or something, so she came to see Mags. She had a great time, stayed a few weeks and relaxed. Your dad showed up and took her home. Her letters got further apart, but time does that sometimes. Mags missed her.” He looked at her. “She came back after Mags died. Helped me with my kids—a houseful of teens hurting. She made them smile, but I could tell she was worn out, tired, sad.” He looked at her. “I only asked once why she stayed. She couldn’t leave him, she said, didn’t want to let you down or drag you through a messy divorce.”
Which was exactly what would have happened.
“She said taking care of you was more important than being happy.”
Eden swallowed, knowing exactly how that felt. Her babies were the only thing that made her happy. And her father offered the only security she had—hard as he was.
“That’s it? You’re telling me he wants me to pull the refuge’s funding because of some misplaced rivalry?”
Teddy frowned, stopping in his tracks. “Pull funding? Archer’ll be torn up over that.”
She nodded. Archer lived for his work, for those animals. He loved them unconditionally. He was a good man. A man she didn’t want to hurt, not in the least.
Her father. She had no illusions about her father; everything he did had a purpose. Which was smart business, she supposed. But now she knew—deep down—this wasn’t business; this was personal.
And it was wrong. Self-loathing rose up, churning in her gut. She didn’t care what he said or did; she would do her job. And if Archer’s numbers and books checked out the way she knew they would, she’d make sure the board knew it. “I’m going do my job, Mr. Boone. And all that I can to help the refuge.”
Teddy stared at her. “Seems to me you’re taking a personal interest in this.”
She didn’t say a word; she couldn’t.
“You care about my son.” He spoke softly, the way Archer spoke to a frightened horse.
She had no answer for that. Not one she wanted to consider. “I don’t believe a person should stand by and watch an injustice happen.”
Teddy grinned. “What do you plan on doing?”
She realized they were almost to the refuge. “The board will want irrefutable evidence that Archer has done everything he’s set out to do. That the refuge is a worthwhile investment. I’ll make sure they know he has.”
Teddy’s grin dimmed. “And?”
She frowned at him. “This is all business, Mr. Boone.”
“Is it? That’s why Archer doesn’t know who you are?” He was looking at her, intently, his smile slowly returning. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.” He shook his head, amused.
“Mr. Boone, please. I respect Archer...admire him...” She broke off and drew in a deep breath. She should tell Archer the truth. But she was scared. Whatever was between them was fragile. Not that she could let it develop into anything. She couldn’t—their lives didn’t fit.
She shook her head, hating her roundabout train of thought. As frustrated as she was with her own indecision, she wasn’t going to talk to Archer’s father about it. Instead, she redirected the conversation. “Did my mother want to start an endowment for the refuge?”
He shrugged, his eyes searching hers before he answered. “I think so. I’ll see if I can find her letters to Mags.”
“Letters?”
“Rachel and Mags wrote regularly. An old-fashioned notion these days.” He smiled. “But Mags looked forward to them, like a visit from a loved one.”
This was good. And bad. Right now, she had questions without answers. But what if, as her father warned her, she didn’t like the answers? There was no way to erase what she learned. “If you can find them,” she murmured, hesitant. “Please.”
“Momma! Momma!” Ivy called out. “Look!”
Eden turned back to find her daughter running toward her, a huge bouquet of wildflowers in her arms.
She stooped, turning Lily so she could see the flowers. “Look, Lily. Sissy has flowers.”
>
“Si-si-me-me-maw!” Lily squealed, her fist flailing.
“Here.” Ivy poked some red and pink flowers into Eden’s braid. “Like a princess.”
“Three princesses,” Clara said, tucking flowers into Lily’s hair, as well.
“Four.” Ivy jumped up and down. “You, too, Clara.”
“Any princesses want to go see some kittens?” Teddy asked.
“You go on,” Eden said. “I’ve got work to do. Have fun.” She waved them off, taking her time, enjoying the song of the mockingbird and the wind in the trees. The sun played hide-and-seek with the rapidly moving white clouds in the cornflower-blue sky.
Fester whinnied good morning, making it impossible for her to ignore him. Instead, she stood on the lowest fence rail and welcomed his hug.
“I’m glad you’re still happy to see me,” she whispered, glancing across the paddock at the barn on the far side.
She looked for him, tall and broad and strong, likely focused intently on something. But a quick sweep of the barn, sheds, pastures and pens...no Archer. She felt hollow—empty. It had been hard before, wondering how it would feel to be held by him. But now that she knew, she ached to be in his arms.
Chapter Eight
Archer had been called to the vet hospital early that morning. Another perk of being faculty—emergency duty. It would have been one thing if it was something exotic or unique. But he had no patience for irresponsible pet ownership.
“He’s a digger?” Archer asked the two college students who owned the massive mix dog drooling all over the floor. Poor thing wasn’t taking the stress well. And the broken leg couldn’t be comfortable, either.
They nodded.
“Guess we could tie him in the backyard,” one offered.
Archer sighed, shaking his head. “No animal wants to be tied.”
They looked at him.
“What are we supposed to do?” the other asked.
“I’m assuming he doesn’t have a crate?” Archer asked. “You should get one. He needs a safe place when you can’t supervise him. And training. Obedience training. You’d all benefit from that.”
One frowned at him. “Isn’t that mean? Locking him up?”
“Ideally Bruce would stay in the backyard and out of trouble. But since we know that’s not the case, you need to figure out how to prevent this from happening again. A crate or kennel gives them a place to be safe, a place they know means quiet time. With a dog this size you need to make sure you give him plenty of exercise when you’re home. And I mean a lot.” He nodded at the dog. “He’s lucky that driver swerved or he’d be dead.”
The boys exchanged a look.
“We offer classes here in the evening. If you adopted him from the local shelter, bring your adoption papers and you’ll get a discount. Your college ID will get you another discount.” He paused, rubbing the dog’s ear. “He’s smart. He’ll pick it up quick. Your job will be consistency.”
He went over care for Bruce, told them to make a follow-up appointment and went in search of coffee. He headed down the hall, nodding at his brothers Hunter and Fisher before cutting through the recovery room. But he was stopped in his tracks by Ivy, with flowers in her hair, staring at a kitten with pure adoration. Her little hands were curled under her chin, as if she was barely controlling her excitement.
He stopped, surprised, looking around the room for Clara or Eden.
Ivy saw him and smiled. “Hi, Dr. Archer. It’s the most prettiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said to him.
The tiny striped orange kitten seemed equally enamored with Ivy, reaching out a paw for her attention.
“Prettiful?” he repeated.
Ivy nodded, almost nose to nose with the kitten. He could hear the kitten’s purr from where he stood. “Think it likes me?”
“Yes.”
“I love him,” Ivy said.
Archer picked up the kitten, turning it onto its back. “Her.” The kitten mewed pathetically.
Ivy looked perplexed until Archer deposited the kitten in her arms.
“The kitten is a her,” he explained.
“Like me.” Ivy was all smiles, giggling as the kitten rubbed its head under her chin.
He smiled back. “But you don’t have a tail.”
Ivy giggled, and the sweet freedom of it washed over him.
“Or whiskers,” he added.
She giggled harder. Downright adorable. What had she said? Prettiful.
“Or stripes,” she said, still giggling.
He nodded.
“What’s she doing?” Ivy asked, bending her head so she could listen to the kitten.
“She’s purring,” he explained. “Means she’s happy.”
Ivy tried to purr, giggling again. “I’m happy, too.”
“I see that,” he said, squatting beside her.
“Can we be farmers, too? I want to stay here.” She rubbed the kitten against her cheek. “Momma’s happy. She doesn’t cry.”
Archer felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “She cries at home?”
Ivy nodded, leaning forward to whisper. “Grandpa’s grumpy and yells. Momma works lots.” Ivy’s simple honesty tore at his insides.
Eden cries. She feels trapped. She’s not happy. But in his arms, she’d come alive. He’d felt it. Maybe this is where she needed to be. He was beginning to accept that’s where he wanted her to be.
“Momma needs a kitten,” Ivy said.
Archer grinned. “Think it’ll help?” he asked.
Ivy tried to purr again.
“A kitten’s a lot of work,” he said. “Might need to talk to your momma before you take this one home.”
Ivy frowned, nodding.
“She’s with Archer.” His father suddenly appeared and was out of breath.
“Oh, Ivy, we were looking for you,” Clara said, pushing Lily in the stroller. “I know you like the kittens, but you must stay with us.”
Ivy sighed, her shoulders drooping. “Sorry. She meowed at me.”
Archer exchanged a smile with his father.
“Kittens’ll do that, Ivy. Especially to sweet, pretty girls like you,” his father said. “Let’s get you home so you can tell your momma all about the kitten.”
“Where is she?” Archer asked.
“Working,” his father said.
Archer frowned. Ivy’s recent declarations made him wish she were here, enjoying her daughters, instead of poring over his books in a dingy closet-turned-office.
“She knows how important this is, son.” His father clapped a hand on his shoulder. “But she didn’t eat much this morning.” His voice was low.
Archer arched a brow.
“Time is a-wasting, son.” His father sighed. “I’d hate for you to let her slip away. Assuming I’m right and you’re hoping Eden will stay for more than just bookkeeping purposes?”
But he already knew her answer. She wasn’t interested. “I don’t think there’s much chance of my changing her mind.”
“Women are mysterious creatures, son. Might be she’s more in your corner than you realize.” His father smiled.
Archer stared at his father, waiting for some explanation.
“Just...try.” His father’s tone was hard. “And be nice. Chasing her off would be the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Momma plays chase, too,” Ivy offered.
Archer shook his head, smiling at her.
“I’m gonna grill some burgers for dinner,” his father said. “Why don’t you go bring her back to the Lodge tonight? Might take the wagon out for a hayride, too. Look at the stars.”
Archer frowned at his father before glancing at Clara. The woman was holding Lily, pointing at the poster that listed all the recognized dog breeds. Lily’s little hands and feet kicked and reached, soak
ing up what Clara was saying softly.
Was this night hayride for her?
He wasn’t sure how he felt about his father’s new...crush. At the end of the day, it had nothing to do with him. His father had been alone for a long time. When Eden left, Clara would go, too. His father wasn’t stupid. If he wanted to set himself up for heartache, Archer couldn’t do much to stop him.
As for himself... He didn’t know what the hell to do. He’d spent the longest night tossing and turning in his bed. Long after he’d made his way home, he’d felt her mouth on his. She’d been so soft, so eager, against him. And the taste of her, her sweet scent, kept him teetering on the edge of sleep.
He knew she was unhappy.
He knew he wanted her.
Other than that, he didn’t know much about her. How could a man like him, analytical and cautious, give in to something as insubstantial as these feelings?
Ivy’s excited squeal stopped all other conversation.
“A hayride? With horses?” she asked.
“Your momma said we have to wait on the horses,” Clara said, glancing his way. “They’re bigger than the chickens and the baby goats.”
“And the kittens,” Ivy added, staring longingly at the little orange tabby.
“It’s supposed to be a clear night,” Archer said, hesitant. “I don’t see why we can’t go for a hayride. You’ll meet plenty of horses. Okay?” Seeing Ivy’s smile was a thing of pure delight. He liked that he could make this little girl happy. He wanted to do the same for Eden, to make her smile like that. He may not know much about Eden now, but that was something he could fix.
“Tank you, Dr. Archer,” Ivy squealed.
* * *
EDEN HEARD THE door to the administration offices open and tensed. Would Teddy have told Archer the truth? Would he be furious? His boots echoed off the floor, straight to her door. She didn’t know what to feel—excited or anxious. After last night and the phone call this morning, she was a ball of contradictory emotions.
“I brought you something.” Archer entered, placing a brown paper bag on the edge of her desk. “Ivy said it was your favorite.”
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