Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The House
“I think my dog likes your daughter better than she likes me,” I quipped as I watched Mildred follow Lenni up the stairs.
“I think my daughter likes you better than she likes me,” Archer replied. “She barely talked during dinner and when she did, it was to you.”
Though his tone was light, his words permeated my heart.
“It’s just going to take you both some time to settle in together,” I said.
“She doesn’t have that problem with you. She acts like she’s known you forever.”
“Mom stand-in.” I shrugged it off. “When she figures out you won’t bail on her, she’ll come around.”
I rose from the kitchen table and began clearing the dinner plates.
Archer stood and began to help. He raked a hand through his shaggy dark hair in frustration, mussing it. “Do you think she knows I’m completely fucking terrified?”
“You? Terrified? The big, strong cowboy? I never would’ve guessed,” I teased.
“Seriously,” he said, keeping his voice soft.
“You’re hiding it well,” I remarked. “You can always scream into a pillow later if it makes you feel better.”
“Thanks for the suggestion.” His gaze wandered to the stairs. “What do I tell her?”
“About what?”
“About why I didn’t even know she existed.”
“Tell her the truth. Kids respond to honesty—they know when they’re being lied to.”
“I can’t be completely honest with her. Not until she’s older,” he pointed out.
“You tell her a version that works for a kid. But make sure it’s the truth.”
“Tell her that her that her mom and I were nothing serious, and that she was right to raise Lenni far away from bikers? Tell her that I was a nineteen-year-old player who had no business being a father? How the fuck do I tell a little girl all that?”
“You tell her that sometimes people have feelings for each other, but that it doesn’t always last. You tell her that her mother loved her enough to keep her away from things she shouldn’t be around.
Be vague, Archer. And then you tell her that you didn’t know about her until yesterday.
That part is very important. She’s angry.
With her mom dying and Nancy bailing on her without so much as a goodbye .
. . You’re just the icing on a shit cake right now.
But if you want this to work, you’re going to have to get honest with her even if it’s uncomfortable. ”
He rubbed his forehead. “Are you sure you’re a New Yorker? You’ve got the blunt Midwesterner attitude down.”
I smiled. “I come from a long line of straight shooters.”
“Thank God for that. I couldn’t handle someone pussyfooting around. Promise me you won’t ever do that to me. Promise me you’ll give it to me straight, even if you think it hurts to say.”
“I can do that.”
He reached into his pocket and extracted his wallet. He opened it and then pulled out a credit card and placed it on the counter.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“My credit card.”
“Yeah, I know that. Why are you giving it to me?”
“Groceries, house stuff, clothes for Lenni. Whatever you need.”
I made no move to take the card.
“We haven’t talked about your salary either.”
“Nope.”
“Or your duties . . .”
I raised my brows and waited.
“Got any ideas?” he suggested. “I’m flying blind here. You could basically ask for the moon and I’ll say sure, no problem.”
“Will you lasso the moon for me, George Bailey?” I quipped.
“What?”
“Never mind.” I sighed. “Well, for my last job, I moved into the penthouse with them so I could take care of their kid. I comforted him in the middle of the night if he had nightmares. I took him to school, the park, playdates. I rarely did laundry or cooked because they had a housekeeper and a chef. That was nice.”
“Yeah, I bet it was,” he said with a chuckle. “What do I have to do to get you to do the laundry and cook?”
“Put a ring on it,” I stated.
He rubbed his jaw. “There’s an idea.”
“I think I’d rather have the money.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll do the laundry and cook. For a price.”
I threw out a weekly salary number. He agreed immediately.
“I need a car, though,” I said. “For chauffeuring Lenni around.”
“You can drive my truck. I’ll hitch a ride with Brooks in the mornings. You good with a truck?”
“I can handle a truck,” I assured him.
His smile was slow.
My gaze narrowed. “None of that.”
“None of what?”
“Don’t play innocent. You know what you’re doing.”
“Smiling?”
“Yeah, but it’s the way you smile,” I pointed out. “I’m immune. I’ve been inoculated against charming grins and mustaches.”
“You sure about that?”
“I should’ve asked for more money,” I muttered.
“I’ll turn the charming smiles down from a ten to an eight. That’s the best I can do.” Archer looked in the direction of the stairs. “Is she okay? It’s quiet.”
“Why don’t you go up there and check on her?” I suggested. “I can finish up down here.”
“Right.” He made no move to leave. Instead, he looked right at me. “I don’t know if I’ve said it yet but thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Our eyes held and he clenched his fingers into a fist and then stalked toward the stairs.
I finished cleaning up dinner and then pulled out a carton of eggs, an onion, and a cast iron skillet.
I was in the middle of cutting the onion when Archer came down.
“Back so soon?” I asked with a teary smile.
“I asked if she wanted me to read her a bedtime story . . .”
My lips twitched. “You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“You’re a few years too late for that.”
“Yeah, so she informed me.” He shook his head.
“Do you know anything about kids?” I asked.
“No. That’s why you’re here. Why are you cutting up an onion?”
“There’s no way in hell I’m waking up when you wake up to cook breakfast. Ergo, I’m making something you can pop into the microwave.”
“I don’t expect you to cook me breakfast,” he said.
“You wanted me to cook.”
“Yeah, like dinner,” he said with a shrug. “I can feed myself for one meal of the day. I think.”
I bit my lip but couldn’t stop the smile. “Trust me on this.”
“I trust you. I trust you with my life.”
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I trust you with my kid,” he said. “The kid I don’t know how to raise or bond with.”
I turned on the burner, added some oil to the cast iron, and waited for it to heat. “School.”
“What about it?”
“She needs to be enrolled.”
“Oh yeah. That.” He frowned. “It’s the week before Thanksgiving. Is school even in session?”
“Wow, you really forgot what it was like to be a kid,” I said.
“Sue me. It’s been a few years.”
“A few?” I raised my brows. “Old age already affecting your memory?”
“I’m thirty,” he stated. “I’m in my prime. And my mind is sharp as a tack.”
“Okay, old man. Whatever you say.” I snorted and opened the carton of eggs. “It’ll be a short week next week and then a long weekend for the holiday. But she should start next Monday.”
“That’s probably a good slow introduction to a new place. Right?”
“Yeah.”
We stood there in the kitchen; two strangers who’d been thrown together because of circumstances beyond our control.
“Well, good night.”
I raised my brows. “It’s eight o’clock.”
“I’ve got some reading to do,” he said. “Nancy gave me a folder with everything I’m supposed to know about Lenni. Medical papers. Things like that. I want to go through it.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll leave it out for you before I go to work tomorrow morning.”
“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” I said in confusion.
“Horses don’t have day of the week underwear. They don’t know it’s Saturday.”
“Why are you working tomorrow?” I asked.
“To pay for things like paint and bedspreads . . . and a nanny . . .”
“Lenni just got here. Can’t you take the day off and spend it with her?”
“I have to shoe a new colt in the morning and take care of some other things,” he said. “I’ll be done by noon. That okay?”
“Noon is good.” I nodded. “It’ll give me and Lenni time to scope out the pinhead of a town.”
“Good. Meet me at the Ridge around noonish, then we’ll go shopping for the paint and bedspread, yeah?”
“Sure thing.”
He let out a breath of relief. “Thanks, Wyn.”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me. I’m glad to help. Really.”
He turned to head down the hallway to his bedroom, but at the last moment, he looked back. “What’s Wyn short for?”
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
“Not gonna tell me, huh?”
“You haven’t earned the truth yet,” I stated.
“Good night . . . Wynelope.”
“Good night, Archie.”
He shook his head, amusement stamped across his full lips.
I enjoyed the view of him as he sauntered away.
Broad shoulders.
Tapered waist.
Muscular arms.
Archer had flirted with me, and I was flirting back.
He was my boss.
He needed me to help him with his daughter.
I had to remember that.
I dumped the onions into the cast iron and then left them to sweat on low for a few minutes. I took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Lenni’s door. After a moment, she called, “Come in.”
She was standing at an open dresser drawer.
“So, your dad—Archer—has to work in the morning. But around noon we’re going to meet up with him and then go shopping for paint and a bedspread, and whatever else you need.”
She nodded but didn’t look up from the drawer.
“You doing okay?” I asked, still standing in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on her space.
“Fine.” Her tone was clipped. She shut the drawer with a bang. “I’m gonna shower and then go to bed. Is that okay with you?”
Impertinence.
“That’s okay with me,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I’m gonna let Mildred out and then I’ll bring her back to you if you want.”
“Whatever.”
She grabbed the pajamas that were on her bed and then stalked past me to the hall bathroom. The door closed with finality.