Cattail Ridge, page 2
part #4 of Firefly Hollow Series
“If Emma has a box of some kind, I can put him in it and take him home in my truck.”
Zanny smiled up at him. “Thank you, Archer. That would very much appreciated. And I’m guessing from the state of your jeans that we probably owe you another thanks.”
He looked down at the denim that was wet from just below his knees. “Nah. I just happened to be here. No thanks necessary.”
“If you have a shovel and some garbage bags, I’ll let the boys get started on cleaning up that mess,” John said as he handed the axe back to her. “Then we can get out of your hair.”
Emma glanced at her watch. “Okay. We’re all going out to lunch today, then we’re getting something special for Sydney. Do you want to join us?” She knew John and Zanny were aware of what the something special was. Sydney had been wanting a playhouse in the far corner of the backyard and now that she was almost five, Emma thought she was big enough to play safely in one.
Noah and Eli were watching them with muted excitement. Much as she’d expected, John quelled that.
“No. Once we finish here we’re going straight home. And we’re going to have a talk with Dean’s parents. I don’t think they’ll be any happier about this than we are.”
The boys were wise enough to not argue with him.
Emma found a box in the garage that she thought might work for containing the rooster. She brought it back out to the yard with the shovel and some garbage bags.
“Zanny, if you want we can go ahead and get Mr. Clucky back to his home,” Archer said.
“I think that’s prudent.”
With very little effort the chicken was contained in the box. He clucked out an indignant protest, but when Archer closed the lid, he went quiet.
“He likes it in there. He feels safe. Do you have to take him?” Sydney asked Archer.
The heartbreak on her face would have melted steel, and Emma knew Archer was nowhere near immune. “He’ll miss his family if he stays here. He’ll be lonely. Maybe you can visit him someday if his owners and your mom okay it.”
She turned to Emma. “Mommy?”
“We’ll see.”
“Can I go with Archer to take him home? Please?”
Archer shrugged when Emma sent him a questioning look. “There’s room. The new truck’s an extended cab. We’ll watch out for her. After we get him settled in, we’ll drop Zanny off at home and then we can meet you back here.”
“Okay. But Sydney Marie, you listen to what Archer and Zanny tell you, understand me?”
Sydney threw her arms around Emma’s legs for a quick hug. “I will, Mommy.”
The three of them left, and Emma couldn’t prevent her gaze from following them out the gate. Archer was almost as attractive going as he was coming. She sighed. The man was a threat to her equilibrium.
Well over six feet tall, he almost made her feel petite. It was rare that a man could do that, as she was five-foot-ten. But Archer wasn’t just tall, he was strong. She knew he had to buy shirts a size too large to get his shoulders to fit they were so wide. His size, coupled with blond hair and stunningly beautiful hazel eyes that changed color with his mood or his clothing, made him stand out. Add in the easy-going charm he exuded, and the man was flat out dangerous.
When she brought her attention back to Amelia, she flushed. Her baby sister was studying her with a knowing grin.
“Like what you saw?”
Emma felt her cheeks heat up, and she was grateful John was occupied with the boys. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure you don’t.” Amelia patted her on the arm. “He’s single, you’re single. He’s eye candy and he’d make a good father. You like each other. Two plus two is four.”
“Pip,” Emma protested, using her sister’s nickname, “you’ve never been any good at math. You’re adding this up wrong. Besides, even if I were interested—which I’m not—the two of you practically live in each other’s pockets.”
“Uh-huh. Just like you and Burke.”
Burke Lockhart was a state trooper with whom Emma had established a solid friendship. They’d known each other as children and after she’d returned from Georgia and set up shop, they’d reconnected. He was a single father to a little girl, and as contentious as their relationship had been as children, they’d settled into an easy friendship that helped both of them stave the loneliness off. They’d been insisting for years that they were platonic friends, but Emma knew the family had doubts about that. Amelia knew the truth, or Emma had thought she did.
“Pip, you know we’re only friends.”
“I know. And so are Archer and I. He’s always been for you. Ever since the first time he saw you.”
The words stunned Emma. “What are you talking about?”
Amelia’s smile was quiet but pleased. “He never thought he was good enough for you before. Now that we’ve worked through some things, I think he’s ready. And no, he hasn’t said any of that to me. I inferred it. You’d better be on your toes because when he makes his move you won’t know what hit you. And for the record, I think you deserve to be swept off your feet.”
Emma crossed her arms over her middle. “I don’t have just myself to consider.”
“I know that. But Sydney couldn’t ask for a better father. He already loves her. Finished?” She raised her voice to a normal tone as John and the boys approached.
“Yeah. We’ll take these bags around to the front. Emma, I’m sorry for the chaos. Boys?”
Noah apologized, and Eli echoed him. “We didn’t mean to scare you,” he added.
Emma crouched down in front of him and brushed back a lock of dark-blond hair. “I know. And I know you both thought it was a grand adventure, but promise me you won’t do anything like this again? You could have been seriously hurt.”
They both nodded, and Eli threw his arms around her in a hug. “We promise.”
As she and Amelia watched them drive off a couple of minutes later, Emma sighed. “Daddy always did say he hoped our children would pay us back for everything we put him and Mom through. The pirate ship is a darned good start.”
Amelia snorted with laughter. “Oh, it absolutely is. Just wait until Sydney gets a little older. She’s you all over again. And I’m pretty sure that most of the gray hair Daddy has is because of your antics growing up.”
“God help me.”
She and Amelia went back inside to wait for Archer and Sydney. The whole time they discussed the plans for the playhouse, Emma’s mind was in turmoil. Amelia couldn’t be right. She just couldn’t. But her sister did have an uncanny knack for pairing people up.
Archer had been a big part of Emma’s life, and Sydney’s, ever since he’d come into the family. More than once through the years he’d been present for pivotal moments, starting with driving Emma to the hospital so she could have Sydney.
She had always put him in a safe corner of her mind despite his attractiveness. In her mind he was her sister’s. It floored her that the whole time she’d been thinking he was Amelia’s, her sister had been planning to set them up with each other.
Emma had avoided all serious relationships since she’d broken things off with Sydney’s father. Burned very badly, she’d devoted all her time and energy to raising her daughter and growing her business. Now that Sydney wasn’t quite so small, Emma was running out of reasons to avoid the dating pool.
If Amelia was right, if Archer was interested in her romantically, Emma didn’t know what she’d do. She figured her choices would be to either run as far and as fast as she could, or to run straight into his arms—and there was a fifty-fifty chance she’d do either. She didn’t know which scared her more.
Chapter Three
Five years earlier…
Archer first met the Campbell family not long before Sydney was born. New in town, the only people he knew were the guys he worked with at the garage. Archer was a mechanic and a damned good one, if he did say so. His boss, Jack Browning, had ferreted out the fact that Archer would be spending the Fourth of July holiday alone and had strong-armed him into coming to his own family’s gathering.
“It’s a mess of people what with my two kids, my sister’s five, various assorted friends and cousins, and a few neighbors thrown in just for variety. And we have one of the best seats in the house as far as watching the fireworks goes. Owen and Sarah’s place is on top of the mountain, and you can see the shows from every town around here.”
Reluctant but without a good excuse to get out of going, Archer went. As soon as he arrived, chaos greeted him. He’d expected that with as many people as Jack had told him were attending the gathering. What he hadn’t expected was the warm welcome he had received.
Jack’s sister was the first to greet him at the front steps to the farmhouse. “Hi! You must be Jack’s friend. I’m Sarah Campbell.”
“Archer Gibson. How do you do, ma’am? Thanks for inviting me.”
She smiled up at him and patted his arm. “So polite. I like you already. But you don’t have to call me ma’am. Do you mind taking this platter to the tables under the tent?”
“Of course not.” He took the large dish loaded down with sliced fruit and did as he was told. A dark-haired young woman around his age who strongly resembled Sarah waved him over.
“That goes here with the desserts. I’m Rachel.”
And the introductions rolled on from there. Archer knew he’d never keep up with them all, but one Campbell in particular stood out to him. Amelia.
The youngest of Owen and Sarah Campbell’s children, she appointed herself his escort for the day. Still a teenager, she was like a friendly young puppy tempered with a blossoming maturity that Archer knew probably caused her parents–particularly her father–fits.
“So who are you?” she asked after they’d eaten and all the food had been cleared away. She and Archer were sitting on a slight incline watching her brothers play tag with her nephews. “I mean, I know you’re Archer Gibson and you work with my uncle, but who are you? Where are you from?”
He watched her with bemusement as she propped herself up on her elbows, legs stretched out in front of her, and waited for his response.
“If you were anyone else I’d tell you to go bother someone who isn’t me.”
She laughed. “But I’m not anyone else. And you like me, admit it. So who are you?”
He did like her. She’d been by his side while they ate, gently guiding him through the noisy commotion that was her family. Someday Amelia Campbell was going to be a force to reckon with.
“I’m a mechanic. I’m good at it. I grew up near Ashland. Started working with my dad when I was twelve, took over our garage when I was sixteen. Been at it ever since.”
Amelia sat up, mirroring his pose by raising her knees and looping her arms around her legs. “Twelve is awfully young, not even legal. Why do I feel like you’re leaving a lot out?”
He shrugged. “Nothing worth repeating. I do have a brother. Logan. He’s a couple of years older than me. He’s in the Army.”
“Are you close?”
“We’re… I guess so.” His relationship with Logan was complicated. Too complicated to try to explain to a young girl. “I have a lot of respect for Logan. He raised me after our dad died.”
“I’m sorry.”
Archer accepted the words with a nod.
“So how old are you? Married, single, dating someone?”
He gave a mock growl. “You’re full of questions.”
Her answering grin was cheeky. “Familial trait and occupational hazard. My dad’s a writer. I’m considering following that path myself. So?” She bumped his shoulder with hers.
“I’m twenty-five. Divorced. No interest in going down that road again. What about you? Who are you?” He hoped that if he turned the questioning back to her she’d be diverted.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes but answered. “I’m seventeen. Single. Never been married. I already told you I’m a writer-in-training. And I’m still figuring out the rest.”
There was that maturity again. Oh, yes. The girl was going to be dangerous when she became a woman.
Her brothers, John and Ben, and Jack’s son, Rick, came over then and pulled him to his feet.
“Come on,” Ben said. “Time for some football. You’re on my team.”
Before long they’d worked up a good sweat, and most of the men took their shirts off. When Archer didn’t no one teased him or questioned him. That consideration was a small gesture he appreciated, though he doubted they realized that. The last thing he wanted to have to do was explain his scars.
They did, however, warn him about Amelia.
“You know she’s still a kid, right?” Ben asked as they were getting cool drinks.
Archer immediately understood where her brother was going with that. “I know. And I’m not into kids.” Against his will his gaze sought out their other sister, Emma. Even hugely pregnant, she was attractive. Too attractive for his peace of mind. He was glad she was involved enough with someone to have gotten pregnant, though she’d introduced herself as Emma Campbell, and none of the men present acted like she was his. That put her safely behind a line he wouldn’t cross.
The security blanket of her involvement was ripped away the next time he saw her, which was at a birthday party for her and Ben in early August.
“So they’re twins?” he asked Amelia as they ate. She was once again attached to him at the hip.
“Mm-hmm. Emma’s a few minutes older. This has been a rough year for the whole family but on her especially. It’s good to see her having fun today.”
“Rough how?” Archer was more interested in Amelia’s response than he should have been.
She leaned in closer, her voice low. “Well, you probably noticed that she’s pregnant. And the sperm donor isn’t in the picture. He’s a sleazebag. She came home this spring from Georgia and even though she set up her photography studio and it seems to be a success, her self-esteem has really taken a beating. Emma’s usually the strongest of all of us, never turns away from a challenge.”
Archer quickly did the math in his head. She was due to deliver any day, meaning she’d gotten pregnant late last year. She’d moved home, apparently leaving the father behind, and was getting ready to face motherhood alone. Alone. Uninvolved. Single. That unsettled him so much he almost bolted from the table.
Amelia continued. “Then there was the drama with John and Zanny, and Ben and Ainsley.”
“That sounds private.”
“Yes. But we’re adopting you, so you’ll learn about it eventually anyhow. John and Zanny split up this spring, about the same time Em came home, as a matter of fact. They officially reconciled at the Fourth. And Ben and Ainsley dated years ago but things happened. It appears they’ve patched themselves up. He’s not been this carefree in years.”
Archer had to admit the other man seemed happier than he had appeared a few weeks earlier.
After they ate and the birthday kids opened their presents, Archer went outside with Jack and Rick. They were walking the perimeter of the large meadow that surrounded the Campbell homestead when John flagged them down.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked his nephew as they met him halfway across the yard.
“Emma’s in labor. Rick, can you drive her?”
Rick was a sheriff’s deputy and had driven his cruiser to the farm, as he’d come off duty just before the party started.
“Sure.”
They hurried inside to where the whole family had gathered in the foyer. Emma was holding on to the newel post at the foot of the stairs, clearly in the middle of a contraction. Her mother was rubbing her back, speaking in a low, soothing voice. To say the atmosphere was tense was a vast understatement.
When Emma straightened, her face clearing, the whole family breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was intense.” She tried to smile but it didn’t quite work. “I hate to break the party up. Sorry everyone.”
Her father wrapped her in a hug. “Hush. We get to have a baby for your birthday. That’s the best present in the world.”
“Absolutely,” Ben agreed, touching her hair. “Let’s get going, though. I might want a niece for my birthday present but I don’t particularly want to deliver her.”
That sent a round of chuckles through the room, breaking some of the tension.
Emma started toward the door but stopped after a couple of steps, her hand going back to clench the post. “I don’t think I can walk.”
“We can carry you,” Ben told her. “Rick and I can make an arm sling.”
But Emma was tall, almost as tall as Ben. And Ben’s arm was in a cast. Archer glanced around the room and gave in to the inevitable. He was by far the tallest man there at six-foot-four, and years of moving heavy car parts around had built strong muscles. He stepped forward.
“No need. I can carry you. If you’re okay with that?”
Emma’s face flushed but she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Just grab my shoulders,” he said as he put an arm around her lower back and stooped so that he could get the other behind her knees. “Ready?”
“If you’re sure.”
He scooped her up as gently as he could, then straightened and settled her against his chest with a smile. “No sweat. Your chariot awaits.”
When they got to the cruiser, however, Emma shook her head. “No way. I’m not getting in that backseat.”
