She stared up at him, immediately caught up in his blue gaze. “Ivy?”
“She was at the vet hospital, picking out kittens.” He grinned. He was so beautiful her heart thumped.
“A kitten? That’s better than a chicken, I guess.” Eden picked up the bag and peered inside. “You brought me a pastry?”
“Dad said you had a rough morning, didn’t eat.” He shrugged. “Not good for you.”
She pulled the fluffy pastry, covered in icing and sweet stickiness, from the bag. “I’m not sure this is good for me, either.” She smiled.
He shrugged. “Looked good.”
“Share it with me?” she asked, standing.
He didn’t move. And the space between them grew charged, taut. “You look tired,” he said. “I’ve been pushing you too hard.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. You’re the one who looks wiped out.” Which was true. He had dark smudges under his eyes and stubble covering his jaw.
He smiled. “Didn’t get much sleep.” He cleared his throat.
“Worrying about this?” she asked, tapping the paperwork spread across her desk.
“That’s part of it,” he answered. “But mostly, I was thinking about you.”
She blinked, her heart in her throat.
“Last night shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice gruff. “But it did. And I can’t stop thinking about it.” He shook his head. “Whatever that was, it doesn’t change my offer. I’m serious about the job. About you and the girls starting over here.”
She frowned, confused. He hadn’t said he regretted it. But he didn’t seem happy about it, either. What did that mean? What was he thinking? Feeling? Wanting?
All of which was irrelevant until he knew the truth. She wanted him to know the truth, wanted him to know who she really was before things grew more complicated. Once he knew the truth, he might not be so eager to have her stay. Which was probably for the best. If he didn’t want her here, it would be easier to leave—to not find staying here, with him, so tempting. “Archer, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Eat first.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Meet me out front in a few minutes?”
She nodded, marveling at the smile he shot her way before backing from her office. “Okay,” she murmured.
She ate half the pastry, finished her cup of coffee and washed her hands in the sink before walking onto the front porch. A hard and heavy knot of tension rested beneath her lungs, pressing in until she felt sick to her stomach. Archer was waiting, his hands on his hips, staring out at the refuge. She saw him yawn, the slow drag of his hand over his face, and felt a pull of sympathy for him.
He worked so hard.
“Do you ever stop?” she asked, suspecting she already knew the answer.
His gaze settled on her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned. “I can rest when I’m dead,” he answered. “My granddad used to say that all the time. Man never sat still. If he had, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”
She tore her gaze from his, willing her heartbeat to return to normal. The sun was bright in the massive blue Texas sky, edging the rolling hills in gold.
“Need to check some fences and pens,” he said, walking down the steps. “We can talk while I drive.”
“I can wait,” she offered, her nerves getting the best of her.
“Now’s as good a time as ever.” He stopped, waving her forward.
She reluctantly followed him to the white truck labeled Boone Ranch Refuge, climbing into the passenger seat as he held the door wide. He smiled at her, those blue eyes so damn bright. She watched him walk back around the front of the truck to climb in. She didn’t know how to start. Her words seemed to evaporate before she could actually say them.
They were bouncing through a pasture when he said, “I want to know you, Eden.”
She looked at him, stunned by his straightforward admission. “You do?”
He nodded, not looking at her. “I do.”
She swallowed. “Even though I’m leaving soon?”
His blue eyes bore into hers. “Even if you leave soon.”
“Archer, my father—”
“Your dad is grumpy. Ivy’s words, not mine.” His voice lowered. “She said you cry a lot.”
She tore her gaze from his, staring at her hands. “Ivy’s three.”
“So she’ll tell it like she sees it.”
She glanced at him. “My father is a hard man.”
Archer turned the wheel, slowing as they approached a gate. “No man should make you cry, Eden. Especially a girl’s father.” He climbed out of the truck before she could answer. She watched him open the gate with sure motions, all muscle and man. She was breathless and flustered by the time he climbed into the truck and drove through the gate.
“I can get it,” she said, needing fresh air. She climbed down and closed the gate behind his truck.
He was smiling when she pulled herself up into the truck. “Thank you,” he said.
She nodded.
“Your father.” His expression was thoughtful when he looked at her. “Tell me about him.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “My father is a businessman. He’s used to being in control of...everything. He and my brother are very close. He and my ex-husband are close.”
“But you’re not?” he asked. “Close to him?”
She shook her head. “No. He’s so busy all the time. Too busy for me and the girls. Sometimes I think, to him, I’m more of a...nuisance than a necessity.” She saw his knuckles whiten, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
She stared out the window, trying to encompass years of condescension and digs into an accurate explanation. “He’s said as much. No matter what I do, it’s not good enough. But the more he complains and points out what I do wrong, the more I want to prove him wrong.” Her laugh was hard. “Maybe that’s his plan. To push me until I get it right?” She felt Archer’s eyes on her, but refused to look at him. “He’s more bark than bite. The girls and I have never wanted a thing—he’s taken care of us. He may not be there, but he’s all we’ve got. For that, I’m grateful.”
Silence filled the truck cab, so thick Eden felt it pressing in on them. She rolled down her window; the steady hum of the cicadas filled the air.
“Then why not stay here?” he eventually asked, driving slowly along a barbed-wire fence. “You’d be necessary to the refuge.”
But not to you? She swallowed.
He parked the truck, looking at her. “We work fine together, Eden. I’d try my hardest to treat you with nothing but respect.”
She stared at him, caught up in everything about him. His strong, chiseled jaw. His angular features. The constant intensity in his blue eyes. She should tell him, now. He deserved the truth. Here he was, talking about respect... And she was lying to him.
“Like I said, my life is—” she murmured, so torn.
“Complicated.” He nodded. “Doesn’t need to be. Life here’s pretty simple. Something’s broke, you fix it. You do what needs to be done, then what you want to do.”
You do what needs to be done.
That was a concept Eden could agree with. She had something very important that needed to be done—she needed to help Archer. She needed to help save the refuge, in whatever small way she could.
“I’ve had pretty much everything a body needs. Never wanted much.” His words wavered ever so slightly, drawing her attention back to him. He was staring at her. “I want you to stay.”
Breathe. Just breathe. Keep it together. Her trembling fingers slid over the turquoise stones on her bracelet. He wanted her to stay? For the job? Or was there more to it? She remembered the featherlight brush of his lips on hers and trembled, her gaze falling to his mouth. “Archer...”
He was as good as his word. An hour of driving later, Eden knew that Boone Ranch was beautiful country. Archer wasn’t much of a talker, but he shared his family history—how his great-great-grandfather had staked his claim on Texas and how the following generations had done their best to be responsible landowners. She saw the pride on his face, the determination he exuded when he talked about his hopes for the refuge. What would it be like to be part of something so big? Deep roots, solid family, a rich history and satisfaction in a worthwhile job. He wanted her to be a part of that. When he pulled up in front of the refuge offices, he was relaxed. And she was on edge.
She’d had plenty of time to tell him the truth—but she hadn’t. She couldn’t.
His phone started ringing, giving her the excuse she needed to slip out of the truck. She didn’t want to intrude on his phone call. And if she was being honest, she needed to regroup. Her head and heart were at opposite ends of the spectrum this time... But then, how long had it been since she’d listened to anything her heart said? She walked down the path, her mind racing. And hopeful. She’d planned on telling him the truth, but how could she tell him now? Now that she might, possibly, want to stay on the ranch—with Archer. And how could she stay, without him knowing the truth?
Chapter Nine
Archer had been staring at the same screen for thirty minutes. He’d read the same paragraph on wound treatments at least six times. The words were in order, it made sense, but Archer had no idea what he was reading. It was late and he was worn out. He’d had another emergency, a house cat that had ended up being the neighbor dog’s chew toy. The cat was stabilized, covered with a dozen or more bald patches and sutures.
He sat back and threw his pen onto his desk.
He was angry.
Hurt.
For Eden. Her words tore his heart out.
Life was hard enough without having people on your side. As much as his family drove him crazy, he knew they would drop everything if he needed them. It’s what family did—irritated the shit out of one another and took care of one another.
Eden didn’t have that. Her girls didn’t have that. And that was wrong.
What was he going to do about it?
Was it his place to do anything?
He clicked off his desk lamp and stood, then left his office and headed out to his truck. The sun was disappearing, long fingers of pink and purple stretching across the sky to disappear into the creeping black. He climbed into his truck and headed north, down the country road that brought him to the Lodge.
Two wagons waited, piled high with hay and strung with white lights.
“Didn’t know if you’d make it,” his father greeted him. “Long day?”
Archer nodded. “You could say that.”
“Up for riding sideline?” he asked. “Already got drivers for the wagons.”
He nodded. “I’ll go saddle River.”
“Done,” Renata said.
“Dr. Archer.” Ivy’s little voice echoed down the steps. “See, Momma. He said he’d come.” She came running down the stairs.
“I’m coming,” Eden’s voice was soft.
But Ivy was already at his side, smiling up at him. “Hi. See all the horses?”
He smiled. “I do.”
“Momma said to wait for you. I did,” she offered, holding up her hand to him.
Warmth flooded him, easing his tension. It was hard to be anything but happy on the receiving end of such an enthusiastic smile. He took her small hand in his, chuckling when she hopped up and down.
“Ivy, please listen to Dr. Archer, okay?” Eden was there, the smile she gave him tight and uncertain. She seemed tense, out of sorts. And it made him sad.
“Which is yours?” Ivy asked, still hopping.
He smiled at Eden, touching his hat in greeting before crouching by Ivy. “I’ll show you. But there’s a secret to horses, Ivy.”
She stared at him, her eyes going round. “A secret?”
He nodded. “They get spooked real easy,” he said. “They like whispers and slow movements.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “I can go slow and be real quiet.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know you can. Come meet my horse, River.”
“You have lots of horses?” Ivy asked, her little hand clinging to his as they walked to where the horses waited.
“They’re not all mine,” he said.
“Momma said you take care of all of them,” she stated.
He nodded, glancing back at Eden following several steps behind. Her gaze was fixed on the stone path under their feet.
“You a horsey doctor?” Ivy asked.
“A veterinarian,” he agreed. “An animal doctor.”
“All animals?” she asked.
“Yes.” He stopped. “This is River.”
Ivy stared up at the red dun he favored. The horse lowered his head, sniffing Ivy’s curls.
Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her giggle. “What’s he doing?”
“Saying hello,” Archer answered, loving the sound of her giggle.
Eden’s soft laugh reached his ears, drawing his attention. But as quickly as their gaze met, she looked away.
“He’s big,” Ivy said. “You sit high up.”
He nodded, glancing at Eden. “Mind if I put her in the saddle?”
Eden shook her head. “Hold on, Ivy.”
Archer sat Ivy in the saddle and swung up behind her. “How’s that?” he asked.
“High up,” Ivy said, her voice high and thin.
Eden smiled. “You’re taller than me, Ivy.”
“I am,” Ivy agreed, excited again.
It was hard to look away from Eden. She was smiling at her daughter, the sort of smile Archer wanted for himself. He wanted to make her smile. To make her laugh. He cleared his throat. “Going on the hayride?” he asked Eden.
Eden looked at him, shaking her head. “Lily’s too fussy to go.”
He nodded, disappointed.
“I’ll stay here,” Clara volunteered. “You haven’t had much fun, Eden. You should go.”
“Since you and Renata are going with them, son, I’ll stay here and make some coffee and cocoa for after,” his father offered. “Let’s get you and your momma into the wagons, okay, Ivy?”
Archer nudged River forward with his knees and Ivy squeaked. “We’re moving,” she whispered, loudly.
Archer laughed.
“You’re riding a horse,” Eden said.
“I am.” Ivy nodded. “Can I ride in the wagon, too, Momma?”
When Eden and Ivy were in the wagon, Archer stayed in the saddle, River patiently waiting at the side of the wagon. Ivy asked him questions about horses, what they ate, why they have hooves, how often they need their hair brushed and when their bedtime was. He answered them all, watching Eden’s cool demeanor slip further and further away.
“Do they like marshmallows?” Ivy asked.
“Nope.” Archer shook his head. “It’d give them a tummy ache.”
“Poor River,” Ivy said.
The ride wasn’t long. They looped down, following the fence, crossing the bridge, then skirting around the refuge and back to the Lodge. He wasn’t sure when Ivy fell asleep, but the sight of her sprawled across Eden’s lap made him content. About the only thing that could make it better was hearing Eden say they’d stay.
The strands of light cast the wagon’s inhabitants in a soft glow. But he saw only Eden. Her fingers stroked through Ivy’s curls, her own long hair swaying in the evening breeze. She was listening to Deacon as he strummed his guitar and sang some classic coun
try tunes.
When they got back to the Lodge, he tied River to the hitching post, then hurried over to lift Ivy into his arms before Eden had a chance to climb down from the wagon.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He stared down at her, wishing he were better with words. He nodded, carrying Ivy up the steps and inside the Lodge.
Eden offered. “I can take her.”
“You can get the door,” he said, waiting for her to open the door to her suite. Once they were inside, she tugged back the sheets and blanket. He stooped, placing Ivy gently on the bed before Eden covered her with a fluffy pink blanket.
Ivy yawned, gave them a bleary-eyed smile and rolled over. “Night, Momma. Night, Dr. Archer.”
“Sweet dreams,” Eden said, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Archer felt that strange warmth again. A contentment both new and comfortable. Eden brushed past him to check the crib. Her scent filled his nostrils, stirring every nerve to life.
“Lily’s sound asleep,” she whispered.
He nodded, still reeling from the effect she had on him. Was this normal? To be so struck by her that thoughts, words and simple actions became difficult? At the moment, he was aware of how alone they were. How good she smelled. How badly his arms—he—ached to pull her close. But first, he needed to know. “Eden?” he whispered.
Her gaze locked with his.
“You’ve been dodging me all night.” His voice was low, soft. “What happened? What changed?”
She shook her head.
He stepped forward, frowning down at her. “Something changed.”
“Things... Everything has changed,” she murmured.
“It has?” His voice was gruff, anticipation swelling in his chest.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “If I stay, I want it to be for the right reasons.”
He couldn’t stop his smile. It was involuntary, uncontrollable, and it felt good. Damn good. “What would the right reasons be?”
Her eyes went round, her breathing shallow. “I’m still working that part out.”
He stepped back, needing space before he lost his head and gave in to temptation. If he started kissing her, he wasn’t going to stop. “Let me know when you’ve worked it out.” He nodded and walked out of the room.
A Cowboy to Call Daddy Page 11