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.