Chapter Seven
Archer stalked into the Lodge, tired and irritated. The temporary fix he and his brothers had rigged for his plumbing was no longer working. No water meant no water. And he needed a shower and something to eat before he fell face-first in his bed.
He’d made sure the horse was bedded down, putting his dad’s even-keeled mare in the stall next to her. The little paint perked up, exchanging a series of whickers and clicks through the wall. Archer had lingered, but he was dead on his feet. He had Luke, one of the resident hands, bunk down close by with strict orders to call him if anything changed.
He slipped through the back door, knowing it was well after midnight. Most of the guests would be asleep or in town dancing at Cutter’s.
He was almost across the great room of the Lodge to his father’s small apartment when he saw Eden walking the floor. And damn if seeing her didn’t remind him just how much trouble he was in. He’d never cared much how a woman’s hair looked, or how graceful she could be dancing back and forth on bare feet. But Eden’s hair, almost white in the dim light, captivated him. She swayed in time to the song she was humming softly—so softly he barely heard her. Baby Lily fussed, clearly fighting sleep and losing the battle.
Ivy was sound asleep in the recliner, hugging a large stuffed animal.
From the looks of it, Eden’s girls’ night wasn’t wrapping up so smoothly.
He was crossing the room before he had time to think through what he was doing.
She saw him, her expression almost apologetic.
“Need help?” he whispered.
She kept bouncing Lily. “No, thank you.”
“What about Ivy?” he asked, glancing at the sleeping girl. “I can put her to bed.”
She smiled, nodding reluctantly.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Please,” she murmured, returning to her lullaby.
Archer scooped Ivy up, her weight slight, and her damp hair, fresh from her bath, had an oddly pleasing scent. She curled against his chest, her hiccup-sigh making him smile.
He followed Eden into their suite, neat stacks of puzzles, books and toys lining the walls. And a pile of papers on one bed. Eden had been working. A rhythmic beep sounded. A phone. Her cell phone—lying on the floor across the room. Half hidden by the chair.
He placed Ivy in the trundle bed, covering her with the sheets and blanket. She barely stirred.
When he stepped back, Eden was laying Lily in her crib. She stayed there, staring down at the baby with so much love he ached. She sighed, picking up the phone from the floor and turning it off. She opened a drawer, buried the phone in clothes and shut it with a surprising amount of force.
They both froze, waiting. Neither girl woke.
Her shoulders drooped. In defeat? Or exhaustion? Not that it was any of his business. And that’s when he realized he was standing in her bedroom. He was intruding. This was her world, a world of sleepless nights, complications, sticky fingers and compromise. A world he didn’t want—a world he hadn’t been invited into. No matter how this woman made him feel, he’d be a fool to want any of this.
He slipped from the room, staring out the large floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the back of the Lodge. The view was incredible. On a clear night like tonight, the ranch seemed endless—edging the horizon. This was his world.
“Thank you,” she said, making him jump.
He glanced at her, his nerves on edge. It didn’t help that she was in a nightgown, not a suit or slacks. And her hair was down, not in a braid or bun. That odd tightening clamped around his throat, making it damn challenging to breathe. He had no right to ask, but he did, anyway. “Everything all right?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, the hitch in her breath hard to miss. “Have you ever felt trapped, Archer?”
He looked at her then. “No.” Her answering smile was sad. And it made that ache in his chest unbearable. “Are you trapped, Eden?”
She shook her head.
He waited, the slight space between them crackling with something he’d never experienced before.
She looked at him then. “I guess I am.”
He turned toward her, shoving his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t do something stupid. “How?”