Archer's Angels (14 page)

One week later

Archer stared at the computer screen, realizing he had an e-mail from Clove. He clicked on it swiftly.

Hi, TexasArcher. Actually it feels pretty silly to call you that now, since I know you. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that Lucy and I arrived home safely and everything is fine.

He swallowed, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he wrote:

Hey AussieClove. It’s fine to call me that since we might as well go back to who we were. Sometimes starting from the beginning is good. Glad your trip went well. Take care of yourself and drop me a line every once in a while.

His fingers trembled as he wrote the words. They were the hardest lines he’d ever written. He meant them,
but mostly, he wanted to say,
Please come back. We could work things out.

But he knew he couldn’t type that. Shutting off the computer, he went to find Mason. “Mason,” he said when he reached his brother’s office, “we go about things south of sensible sometimes.”

Mason sighed. “Is that a news flash?”

“No.”

“So why are you bringing it to my attention now?” Mason looked over a pair of glasses at Archer.

Archer gaped at his brother. “When did you start wearing glasses?”

“Since I got old,” Mason snapped. “And that’s not a news flash, either.”

Archer shrugged, taking a seat across from Mason’s desk. “How’s the finances?”

“We’re good. We’re in the black. In spite of my fears of losing some productivity, being down brothers, we’re actually moving forward. Some of our investments panned out nicely. Adding Mimi’s farm to our land is going to be a good thing. We need to consider doing some crops on her portion. Maybe a bed-and-breakfast outfit, if we raise Helga’s salary and hire her some help. I have lots of ideas for profit that we should discuss later, after I finish going over these projections. With careful planning, our children will have a healthy ranch to run if they’re interested.”

“Our children?”

Mason colored up his neck. “I consider all children born into this family to be our children. Jefferson children. I am planning for their financial security.”

“I see,” Archer said. “There for a moment, I thought the new glasses were a symbol of some pending announcement. Since you’re getting old and all.”

His brother glared at him over the spectacles. “They’re only for reading! The computer bothers my eyes.”

“Ah.” Very sensitive was Mason to his new eye issues.

“So, have you figured out a solution to your problem?” Mason demanded. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to let your woman just up and walk away like that.”

Archer glared at his brother. “No more of a good idea than it is to let
your
woman up and walk away.”

Mason glared back. “To whom are you referring?”

Whew. Of all the brothers, Mason was the nut least likely to crack. “Never mind. Hey, Last said Mimi’s feelings were hurt over your offer on her land. Have you talked to her recently?”

“Hurt? Why would she be hurt? It was a perfectly good offer. Full price, in fact, which was sensible between friends. I’m sure the sheriff was pleased.” He blinked at Archer. “I even gave her extra time to move out. I wouldn’t want the baby or the sheriff to feel unsettled.”

Archer shook his head, wondering if more was changing about Mason than his eyesight. “Last felt Mimi wished
you
had brought the offer. You two used to be pretty close.”

Mason leaned back in his desk chair, pondering Archer’s words. “I did not want to talk to Mimi about buying her house,” he said, his tone measured and deliberate. “I did not want her to leave. But what is a man supposed to do if a woman decides to go?”

Archer stared at him, his heart beginning to race with frustration and realization.

Mason shrugged. “I decided to make it easy for her. That doesn’t mean it was easy for
me.
”

It took Archer a long time to process what his brother was saying. When he did, when he realized that he and Mason were in the same boat, their sails turned into the winds of heartbreak, he simply left the room.

One week later

From: Clove

To: Archer

Hey, Archer—I’m starting to get a little potbelly! Well, it’s more than a potbelly, it’s more like a pot. Lucy says I exaggerate, but since I’ve always been trim, I feel like it’s a pot. I’m thickening up sideways, too, which is kind of funny because I always thought my stomach would go forward. The other day I thought I felt something move. Like little butterflies moving up my stomach. Isn’t that crazy? Talk to you soon, Clove

Archer bit his lip, ground his teeth and forced himself to think calmly.

Thanks for the note, Clove. Glad it’s all going well. Archer

There. Mason would be proud of him for his cool-headed response. Lucy would be proud of him for al
lowing Clove time to figure out her world and how the babies and he fit into it. He had no molars left from grinding his teeth in his sleep and soon he’d be gumming his food like an old man, but hey, if giving a woman space raised the odds in his favor, then so be it.

Suddenly, another message popped up on the screen from Clove. It had been only moments since he’d sent his to her. Greedily, he opened it.

From: Clove

To: Archer

I have to tell you something strange. Remember when you kissed me, and I climaxed? I think about that all the time. Being pregnant makes me think about you that way a lot. Though I may have made a giant mess of how I handled things, I loved making love with you. That was the single most wonderful experience in my life, besides finding out I was pregnant. I wish I hadn’t kicked you first—it wasn’t very ladylike and wasn’t an indicator of how I really feel about you. Clove

Archer took that note in for a long time. “I sense a thaw,” he said. “This aloof-male stuff is rough on me, but Lucy’s right. It’s working. So I won’t say that I can’t wait to be inside her again someday and that I can’t wait to hold her and kiss her and sleep with her every night. Instead, I’ll say something else.”

Well, you sure got my attention. Don’t worry about it. Archer

He looked at his typing. The words lay in the box, seeming stark and unemotional. “Oh, well,” he said. “Sister knows best.” He hit Send and turned the computer off.

C
LOVE STARED
at Archer’s e-mail, her mind racing. She’d sent him such an emotional note, which had been so difficult for her to write! It was borderline Internet seduction! And he sounded so distant. As if what they’d shared hadn’t meant as much to him.

Maybe it was different for a man.

“What?” Lucy asked, coming into the room.

Clove looked up from the screen. “Sorry. I must have mumbled to myself.”

“You didn’t mumble. You distinctly said, ‘Maybe it was different for a man.’” Lucy looked at her. “Almost everything is different for a man. What’s the topic?”

“Making love.” Clove pointed to the e-mail. “I poured my feelings out to Archer, and this is the reply I got back.”

Lucy read it over. “Huh,” she said, getting up and walking to the door. “Some men forget stuff easily,” she said as she disappeared from the room.

“Forget easily!” Clove frowned. She hadn’t forgotten him. But if he forgot her, then…that sort of proved what she’d thought all along. Archer wouldn’t have wanted her, Clove Penmire, for the woman she was. Sort of like Last hadn’t wanted Valentine after their one-night incident, which she had gathered from the bits Archer was willing to mention about the situation.

She missed the easygoing e-mail relationship they’d once had. They’d met by accident when she’d written to ask a question about farming, as the Jeffersons had a Web site advertising stud fees and other services for their Union Junction ranch. Archer had responded with an answer, and they’d found common ground to socialize about. But that was in the past, she realized. “Okay, babies,” she whispered, patting her stomach. “I guess it’s just us now.”

I
N AGONY
, A
RCHER WAITED
three weeks to hear from Clove. When he did not, he packed his duffel and checked his passport.

“What are you doing?” Last demanded as he walked into Archer’s bedroom.

“Taking a trip,” Archer answered.

“Going to hunt some kookaburras and kangaroos?”

“Something like that.” He was in no mood to jest.

“Wish I had your focus,” Last said.

“There were extenuating circumstances to your situation,” Archer said, his voice grim as he tossed a belt into the duffel. “My relationship wouldn’t have survived Marvella’s interference, either. It may barely survive anyway, and it doesn’t even have a heartbeat right now.”

“Mason’s gonna pop a coronary if you never come back. This place is going from Malfunction Junction to Malfunction Ghost Town.”

“Mason has his own dilemmas to stew over.”

“That’s true. So now what?”

“So now,” Archer said, zipping up his bag, “if she won’t come to my world, I will go to hers.”

Last’s eyebrows rose into his hair. “Does Mason know?”

“No. You do. That’s sufficient.”

“Mason’s going to be upset,” Last said, “especially since you worked him over about Mimi.”

“I did not,” Archer said, “work him over about Mimi.”

“He’s superticked. He told the baby this morning that her mother was stubborn.”

“The baby doesn’t listen. Nanette only cares that she has her uncle Mason’s undivided attention.”

“Have you ever thought it strange,” Last said slowly, “and I’m reaching here, I know, but just generally speaking, that Nanette sort of sometimes looks like Mason?”

Archer sighed, looking up from his passport. “Last, stop trying to make everything perfect. As you can clearly see, nothing in this family is ever going to be a fairy tale.”

“You don’t see it in her nose?”

“That tiny chubby piece of skin that won’t take on a real shape until she’s maybe fourteen? Or do you mean the apoplectic face she makes when she grunts in her diaper? That’s when she resembles Mason.” He tossed the paperwork into his carry-on. “Gotta go, dude. Wish me luck.”

“Yes, but luck for what?” Last called after him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Archer yelled back as he started his truck. “I just need good luck for a change!”

“Here. Let me drive you to the airport,” Last said with a sigh. “You may never come back and then the airport will keep your truck and it’ll be a mess. Or you’ll come
back in two weeks and you’ll owe so much in parking you’ll have to mortgage the ranch.”

“Thanks,” Archer said with a grin.

“Never too much trouble among brothers,” Last said. “At least not more than usual.”

A
RCHER HAD BEEN THINKING
long and hard about his arrival in Australia. He’d pondered calling Clove and letting her know, and he’d ruminated on phoning Lucy.

In the end, he’d decided turnabout was fair play. Clove had nabbed him almost the moment she’d stepped in to Lonely Hearts Station, complete with her plan.

Today, he was the traveler with the plan. Stepping off the plane, he marveled at the change in the countryside. Tired from his long flight, he was energized by the people and the atmosphere.

A taxi took him and his lone duffel from the airport toward the address he gave the driver.

Two hours later, the taxi dropped him off at Penmire Farms—and a more dilapidated place he’d never seen. Archer’s jaw sagged. Of course, he was in a different place and things might be a bit more casual here; not everyone had a Mason to crack the whip.

But this…something wasn’t right. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d think the roof of the white-painted farmhouse was sagging. Squinting, he decided maybe his eyes weren’t adjusted from such a long flight—until he realized that the chimney was missing a few bricks.

A window of the two-story farmhouse appeared to be cracked. The fence, which held in a few mares and
geldings, was ramshackle. Mason would kick every one of their tails if they ever let the fence at Malfunction Junction get in that shape. And the flower beds that first Tex their brother and then Last so carefully cultivated were lacking here.

He took a deep breath. Okay, it couldn’t be that bad. Most of the problems, hopefully, were cosmetic. The livestock and horses, it appeared, were fed and recently brushed.

Yet the farm really did have a run-down appearance. The bushes were tall and the grasses around the wide porch blew in the slight breeze. Perhaps this casual approach to the farm had begun when Robert left. Archer tugged at his hat, thinking. Clove had been very desperate and upset about Robert leaving her sister. Possibly she had known that two women couldn’t run this place without a man. Men, actually. It would take a dozen men to whip this place into shape.

And he was willing to bet his little AussieClove didn’t know a dozen men. Sighing, he decided there was no reason to delay the shock of his arrival. He went to the wide, white porch and rang the doorbell.

Clove answered the door, her eyes widening when she saw him. “Archer!”

“In the flesh. Returning the favor, as it were.”

She stared at him, not glad but not shocked, it seemed, for him to be on her porch.

“Are you surprised?”

“That you’re here, yes. But that you’d come here, not really.” She looked up at him. “I’m not making sense.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I understand. None of it does.”

She stepped away from the door so he could come inside. He did, his gaze instantly moving around the hallway, noting that, while it was clean, the run-down conditions extended to the house as well.

Clove looked embarrassed. Mortified. He sighed. No point in avoiding it. “So. I guess you and Lucy have been trying to manage by yourselves for a long while. And now that you’re pregnant, she’s trying to manage a lot more by herself.”

She didn’t reply.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Why should I?”

“I don’t know. So I could help you?”

“You didn’t want to come here,” she reminded him. “What was I going to say? My sister and I are over our heads in this deal, and Robert hates the farm? We’re five inches away from having to give up the one thing we’ve ever had, that was left to us by the only parents we ever knew?”