Page 23 of Saved By the Sergeant

He sets me down, and I’m still a little unsteady. “I’ve never been this lucky before.”

“Neither have I, baby.” He strokes my hair. “Neither have I.”

“Archer has never broughta woman here. Ever.” Ada fills my cup with tea. “I’m glad he’s sharing you with us.”

Dressed in a long flannel and a pair of jeans, she looks younger than her eighty years. There isn’t an ounce of fat on her body. The woman is the epitome of good health. I hope I’m that lucky.

“He thinks the world of you and Clyde.” I smile.

“We think the world of him. He’s like a grandson to us.”

“He’s an intense man.”

“He’s a solid man.” Ada sits down, her hawkish gaze studying me. “A good, solid man. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”

I pour a dash of cream in my cup.

“How about you? Are you a solid woman?” She asks abruptly.

“I think so.”

“Good,” she says as she pats my hand. “I was hopin’ you were going to say that.” She smiles wide. “And I already knew you were anyway. I was just testin’ you, is all.”

“How would you know?” I sip my tea.

“He chose you, that’s how.” She tips her head back and laughs. “There’s no way he would ever choose someone who wasn’t a good person, sweetie. If he’s bringing you here to meet us, you’re more than special, more than solid.” She leans in close. “You’re the one.”

My mouth falls open. “Are you psychic?”

“No, sweetie. I just know the people I love, is all.”

I look up to see Archer walking through the kitchen door. My chest squeezes at the sight of him.

“Hey, honey.” I smile.

“Hey, you.” He winks. “How would you feel about staying with Ada for a bit? I have a few errands to run.”

“I would love the company.” Ada points to the counter covered with baking supplies. “I have ten blueberry pies to make for the church bazaar. I could use another pair of hands.”

“Ada, you don’t know this, but my girl here is one heck of a cook. You get her to help you with your pies and enter them in the church baking contest, and I guarantee you’ll win.”

“Is that so?” Ada steeples her fingers. “I’ve never won. And I sure would love to steal the trophy from Emma Williamson. What do you say, Gennie? Feel like helping an old lady gloat?”

“I’d love to.” I get up and head for the ingredients. “Let’s win that trophy!”

Archie puts his arms around me. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

I lean into him. “Good. Because I can’t stop thinking about our plans for later.”

The heat in his smirk makes my toes curl. “Keep that thought, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

“I will.”

I watch him walk away, and every thought I had about running away evaporates into thin air. If he’s willing to trust me without any doubt, I have to take the risk.

And I have to trust him back.

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