She hesitated on the porch, but he shut the door. Once the truck started, the sound of crunching gravel faded, he rested his forehead against the thick wood surface. It didn’t matter that he ached to go after her, to hold her, to love her. What he wanted was a lie. She was a lie. What had he expected? A person didn’t fall in love over a matter of days.
Love was an illusion. He’d just let himself forget that fact for a while.
Chapter Sixteen
Eden sat in the truck cab until she was cried out. Her head throbbed and her heart felt like it had been kicked around, but that would fade in time. No one had ever died from a broken heart. Besides, Eden had two amazing reasons to keep going. Right now, she hoped they were both having sweet dreams so she could finish off a bottle of wine and sleep until sunrise. And tomorrow, she and the girls would fly back to Houston so Eden could go over her findings with the board.
Whether or not Archer still wanted her support, he—the refuge—had it.
She slid from the truck and climbed the stairs, going around to the back of the Lodge.
Clark sat in one of the large wooden chairs, reading papers.
“The girls asleep?” she asked.
Clark jumped, dropping the paper and standing. “You scared me.”
“I got that,” she said, stooping to collect the paper he’d dropped. But the paper wasn’t what she expected. “Why are you reading my mother’s letters, Clark?”
“You okay, Eden?” He frowned. “You look a little shaken up.”
She glanced at the letter in her hands, the words blurring as the evening’s events flashed through her mind. Considering how much she’d cried, her eyes were probably bloodshot and her makeup was a wreck. She blinked, wiping fresh tears from her eyes and staring at the letter she held. Her mother’s handwriting.
How many notes had she tucked into Eden’s lunch box? Or phone messages had she taken, clipping them to the front of the refrigerator door. She used large, feminine loops and flowing lines... Eden skimmed over the letter. One she hadn’t read...
She stopped, blinking again.
She read the line again.
And again.
Her mother had cheated on her father. No, that wasn’t right. Her mother had cheated on her husband. On Jason Monroe. With a man named Dylan Quaid. A horse wrangler here on the ranch. Eden was the result.
She sat in Clark’s chair, reading the two lines that forever changed her world over and over again.
“Eden?” Clark’s voice was soft.
“Is this why you’re here?” she asked, not bothering to look at him. She didn’t need his answer. His briefcase sat on the ground by the box of letters. Two letters lay inside his briefcase. She stooped, placing the letters on her lap. “What were you planning to do with them?”
Clark didn’t say anything.
She stared up at him then. “Damn it, Clark, you owe me an explanation. What the hell is going on? Just the facts, nothing else. And I mean nothing.”
Clark sighed. “Your mom told your dad about this when he wouldn’t give her the divorce. Guess she hoped he’d give her the divorce if he knew the truth. Greg told me. He listened to the whole damn argument.”
“So everyone knows but me?” she asked, cradling the letters against her chest.
“No. Only Greg, your father and me. If your dad had it his way, no one else would ever know.” Clark shrugged.
“Why?” She lay back against the chair. “I’m sure he’s relieved I’m not his.”
“Her will. It specifically says her money is to be given to the father of Eden Jane Monroe, and the father of Gregory Ryan Monroe. Meaning he’d have to give half to your...dad.” Clark knelt beside her. “I’m sorry.”
Eden stared at him. Then past him.
The stars stretched out overhead, the only constant currently in Eden’s life. That, and she was alone. “What’s in this for you?”
“He didn’t want you to find out. Thought maybe you’d find something here to reveal the truth.”
“If I hadn’t found you tonight I would never have known.” She shook her head. “That’s terrifying. I would have kept trying and trying to win his love... Kept trying to figure out what was wrong with me. And you’d have let me.” She stooped, riffling through Clark’s briefcase.
“That’s all of them. Eden?”
“No more.” She stood, waving him away. She clutched the box of letters tight and pushed through the back door. Music was playing softly, the smell of popcorn scenting the air. Renata and Clara were talking, animated. But to Eden, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.
Renata and Clara stopped cleaning and froze, their expressions growing more alarmed with each passing second.
“Eden?” Renata asked.
“What happened?” Clara asked. “You’re so pale. Sit.”
Eden sat, still holding the box. She stared into the empty fireplace, imagining how cheery it would be during the winter months. She could imagine this place then, wrapped in lights and full of smiling faces.
“Drink this.” Renata pressed a glass into her hand.
Eden took a sip, wincing at the sting of whiskey. “Whoa.” She blinked, eyeing the glass. It burned all the way down to her belly, knocking the haze away and waking her up. “Thanks.”
Renata nodded. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“You told him?” Clara asked. “What did he say?”
Eden glanced at Renata, embarrassed and ashamed.
“Oh, dad told me. I admit I was surprised, but I figured Archer would get over it when you told him you loved him.” Renata frowned. “Guess it didn’t go well?”
“I didn’t get the chance to tell him I loved him,” she said, taking another sip of the whiskey. “He told me to leave. He w-was furious.” She felt the tears building and sniffed fiercely. “He told me to leave his refuge, that he didn’t want me or my money.”
Renata sat beside her, hugging her close. “That sounds like Archer. He’s downright mean when he’s mad.”
Eden didn’t think he was mean. He was right.
“I’m sorry, Eden.” Clara took her hand.
“Oh, it gets better.” Eden sat up, wiping the tears away and pulling her mother’s letter from the box. She handed it to Clara and sat back, watching both the women’s faces as they read the latest revelation.
“Holy shit,” Renata said. “I... What are you going to do?”
Eden rested her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes. “First, I’m going to present the board my findings and get Archer his money. Second, I need to find a new job. And a place to live. And—” she paused, taking Clara’s hand in hers “—a new nanny.”
“I’ll go with you, Eden. Of course I will,” Clara argued.
“I won’t let you, Clara. It’s time for me to stand on my own two feet. Besides, Teddy needs you. And you, I think, need him. I’m not going to be responsible for you missing out on something this good.” Eden hugged Clara tightly and smiled up at Renata, refusing to let either of them know just how close she was to falling apart.
* * *
ARCHER WALKED BEHIND his father, watching his every move. They’d argued over the use of a wheelchair and a walker, but Teddy Boone had insisted on walking into his own home. And while Archer worried over his father, he respected his need to be independent. The fall had shaken them all in different ways.
“Look at you,” Renata said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as soon as they walked through the doors.
“I’m walking.” His father sighed. “I’ve been walking since I was a year old. I hardly see it as some sort of accomplishment now.”
Renata rolled her eyes. “Glad you’re home, Dad.”
“Glad to be home. Why is it so quiet?” he asked.
“It’ll be loud enou
gh in an hour. The whole family’s coming over,” Renata said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Want some iced tea?”
“Sounds good.” He nodded, staring around the great room of the Lodge. “Good day?”
Archer glanced in the direction of the suite, the tug almost unbearable. “Yep.”
“How’s the little paint horse?” his father asked.
“Fine,” he mumbled, tearing his eyes from the door.
His father saw him. “Where are Clara, Eden and the girls?”
Renata came in, glass of iced tea in hand. “Clara drove them to the airport this morning, Dad. She was stopping at the grocery store before she came home. Something about making you a German chocolate cake?”
They were gone? Archer tried not to react to this announcement. It was his own damn fault. He’d told her to leave. And she had.
His father turned, frowning at Archer. “And you didn’t think to mention this?”
Archer put his hands on his hips. “Didn’t know.”
His father’s eyebrows rose. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Archer said.
“Really?” His father stared at him. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you, boy. You want to end up on your own? You like sleeping alone?”
“No, sir.” Archer tried to keep his tone neutral. Tried and failed.
His father’s brows went higher. “Why’d you let her go?”
“I didn’t let her go. I told her to go.” He ran a hand over his face.
“She had a lot to sort out, Dad,” Renata interrupted. “Who knows, she might be back. She’s looking for a job now. I know that much.”
“She is, is she?” his father asked.
Archer stared at his sister. “What are you not telling me?”
Renata shook her head. “You wouldn’t listen to her, but you’re willing to listen to me?”
Archer blew out a deep breath, staring at the hardwood planks beneath his feet. “She lied—”
“She lied, but she regretted it. Did you give her a chance to explain?” his father yelled.
Archer remembered her words all too well. She regretted more than lying. “She wasn’t here to help the refuge.”
“Not in the beginning,” his father agreed. “In the beginning, she came here to win her daddy’s love. In the end, she wanted yours.”
Archer stared at his father. “Doesn’t matter now.” He didn’t want to think about Eden right now. His father was home; his family was coming together. That would keep him preoccupied—for now.
“You remember Dylan Quaid, Dad?” Renata asked.
Archer did. The man had been his personal hero, teaching Archer all about horses. He’d had a gift few men had—the ability to calm a horse, to understand them, befriend them. For five years he’d followed the man around, watching, asking questions, taking notes. When Quaid disappeared in the middle of the night, Archer had missed the man’s quiet ways. “What about him?”
“He’s Eden’s father,” Renata said, her blue gaze fixed on him.
“What?” he asked, stunned.
“Her mom’s letters?” his father asked.
Renata nodded. “Funny thing is, I think she was relieved.”
Archer paced the great room, then stopped. “She okay?”
Renata smiled.
“Is she?” he repeated, trying to imagine how she was feeling. Alone. No, damn it, she wasn’t alone. He ran a hand over his face, pacing the floor. She had him—if she wanted him. He didn’t know what she wanted or how she felt; he’d cut her off before she’d had a chance to clear that up. About damn time he found out.
“She’s strong,” Renata said. “Hard to tell.”
Because she knew how to keep it together. She’d had years of practice. The time had come for her to let someone else take care of her. To let someone who loved her help shoulder her burdens and lighten her load. Archer glanced at the suite door, then back at his father. “Dad, I gotta go.”
Teddy nodded. “Bring her home, Archer.”
Archer nodded, all but running from the Lodge to his truck. He spent forty minutes trying to get a flight to Houston. But no matter how they tried, the layovers would mean he’d arrive sometime late tomorrow. And he didn’t want to wait.
It took three hours to get to Houston, putting him there around ten. Late, but hopefully not too late.
He spent the time flipping radio stations, anything to keep his nerves at bay. He’d been stupid to get too stuck in his head. She’d asked him to listen, but he wouldn’t. If he had, what would she have said?
And her father? Had she been alone when she’d learned the truth?
He punched the steering wheel.
“Stubborn son of a bitch,” he ground out.
By the time the Houston skyline and latticework of highways sprang up, Archer’s patience was slipping. Every car and truck, motorcycle and minivan, seemed intent on slowing him down. He cussed, his boot hovering over the brake as he wove among traffic.
She lived in a neighborhood of small homes on a neat and tidy street. Each house looked the same, manicured bushes and a tiny yard. Not enough room for the girls to play in. He felt pinned in the farther down the road he went.
A moving truck was parked in front of Eden’s house.
He climbed out of his white Boone Ranch Refuge truck and stared at the front door. It was now or never. He walked down the concrete walkway and knocked on the door. But he doubted she’d hear his knock over Lily’s crying. Poor little bug needed to cut those teeth.
He rang the doorbell and stepped back, the light by the door coming on and temporarily blinding him. He heard the squeak of the front door as it opened.
“Archer?” He’d managed to surprise her. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
He stared at her, taking in her tousled hair and smudged eyes. “Can I come in?”
She blinked, clearly confused. “Okay.” She stepped back, bouncing Lily on her hip.
He knew she was watching him, wondering what the hell he was doing there. But he wasn’t ready to talk—not yet. He needed to ground himself or he’d screw things up. He stared around the small house. It was in chaos. Packing paper, Bubble Wrap and boxes covered the floor and most of the furniture.
“Moving?” he asked. “All this in, what, a few hours?”
“I’m being evicted.” She smiled. “Jason Monroe doesn’t like being made a fool of. Or being proved wrong.”
Archer waited. “This isn’t about the refuge, Eden. Tell me it isn’t.”
She shook her head. “It’s not. It’s about the truth. Doing what’s right. Renata told you? About...about my mom and my...dad?”
He nodded.
“After I gave the board members a copy of my report on the refuge, I reminded them my mother was an advocate and she wanted to help the refuge whenever she could. Jason wasn’t happy...but the facts speak for themselves. Once that was done, I quit. I wished him well, told him I was going to find my father and that if he tried to stop me from finding work, from fending for myself, he’d regret it.”
She’s never looked more beautiful to Archer. Strong and defiant. He was proud of her. And sad for her. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, he knew she was hurting. Hell, he was hurting for her.
She shifted Lily, patting her little back. “It’s okay, little bug.”
Lily sniffed, her breath hiccuping as she rubbed her eyes.
“Past your bedtime, little bug,” he said, his voice low and soothing.
Lily looked at him, yawned and reached for him.
“Can I?” he asked.
“Archer.” Eden’s voice broke. “Why are you here?”
He took Lily, cradling her close and patting her back. “I came to get you.”
She frowned, shaking her head.
He cleared his
throat, trying not to get lost in how beautiful she was. And how much he wanted to touch her. “Come home, Eden.”
She backed away, wrapping her arms around her waist. But then she stopped, her spine stiffening as she faced him. She looked just like she did that first day, all cold indifference. “So this is some sort of rescue mission? To save me? Did it ever occur to you that I don’t need to be rescued?”
He swallowed again, clearing his throat. “You don’t. I do.”
And just like that she melted. “Archer—”
“I love you. I need you and the girls. You’re my family.” He broke off. “I’m hoping you can forgive me for...being an ass.”
She was blinking rapidly. “And my lie, can you—”
“Forgiven.” He shook his head. “I don’t want us moving forward with secrets or regrets.”
She stepped forward then, pressing her hand to his cheek. “I only regret that it wasn’t me you were in love with. Me, me. Not Eden Caraway.”
“You’re you, Eden. You’re the woman I love with my whole heart. And if you’ll have me, if you’ll let me, I’ll be the best damn husband and father I can be.”
Her hazel eyes bore into his, searching. “At the ranch? In Stonewall Crossing?”
He nodded. “It’s a good home. Good enough for you, for Ivy and Lily. If you want.” He knew she could say no. After his outburst, he wouldn’t blame her. But he hoped. Oh, how he hoped.
“I do? Yes,” she agreed. “The best home.” She smiled.
He could breathe, finally. “Then marry me.” He cupped her cheek, knowing his hand was shaking and there wasn’t a thing he could do about. “You know I love you, that I need you and the girls. You know I’m stubborn and...uptight at times. But I’m asking, anyway. Eden, will you marry me?” His voice was gruff, thick.
“Yes, Archer, yes. There’s nothing I want more.” She stepped closer. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”
He lifted her left hand, sliding a thick metal band onto her finger. “It’s a ring I made from a horseshoe nail. Wish I’d bought you something pretty, but I didn’t think—”
A Cowboy to Call Daddy Page 18
