Page 48 of Red River

Oliver gave me a look, still not getting it. I let out a small, rueful smile, then turned and left the kitchen.

Stepping onto the patio, I stared out at the lake. The longer I stood there, the more determined I felt to keep my promise to Archer. No beta, no omega—no one—would shake my decision.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, and Archer returned, surrounded by excited kids, their voices overlapping in lively discussion.

When he saw me, I sent him a shy smile. Archer walked into the bathroom to wash his hands, and I followed. He turned on the faucet; as he rinsed off, I hesitated before stepping closer, my fingers brushing against his forearm.

He paused, eyes shifting to my face, searching. I smiled.

"I’m glad you’re back."

Archer blinked. "I was gone for an hour."

I shrugged lightly. "I know. But I still… felt your absence."

For a moment, he just stared at me. His gaze shifted to my lips before quickly returning to my eyes.

Slowly, he dried his hands, looking pensive. Then, without warning, he turned toward me and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close.

I let out a small gasp, and didn’t resist. We stood there, pressed together, hearts pounding, breathing, savoring our closeness.

"Oliver wanted to take the plate to Igor," I reported Oliver’s intention to Archer, my voice carrying a hint of pride in my snitching.

Archer raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"But… I didn’t let him!"

He huffed warmly. "Well, it could’ve been your little secret," he said in a low, slightly teasing voice.

"I chose loyalty to you."

His expression grew serious, our eyes locked. Slowly, Archer’s gaze flickered to my lips again, but then—

"Archer!"

The boys’ voices carried from the living room, their impatience obvious. Archer exhaled, letting me go—albeit reluctantly.

"We need to unpack, or they’ll go crazy." He winked.

"Sure, go. And… thank you."

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded before stepping out of the bathroom, leaving me with the lingering warmth of his touch.

Some of the things they’d bought came with them, while the rest was scheduled to arrive on a Home Depot truck the next day, since many of the items were large—wooden and metal components.

Archer and the boys spent some time down by the lake and later played with the chickens for a bit.

But Igor never joined them. He stayed locked in his room, deliberately isolating himself.

Then came dinner, and still… Igor didn’t come. Oliver peeked at me, but I responded with a defiant gaze. I knew Archer was the only one among us with any sort ofplan. Meanwhile, I was just drifting in a mess of chaotic hopes, intentions, and expectations, with no idea how to fix the situation. I had to trust him.

But that didn’t change the fact that I felt bad about the whole situation—Igor’s persistent rebellion, how stubborn he was. How long would he keep this up?

At one point, as Oliver was already cleaning up after dinner, he glanced at me with a thoughtful gaze and murmured, "It’s not my business, but you look really stressed out."

I let out a sigh, almost like a suppressed sob. "I’m exhausted. I really wish Archer could handle all of this because I just don’t have the strength anymore. It’s too much for one person."

Oliver hesitated, eyeing me as if trying to decide what the best thing to say to me would be, probably aiming for something reassuring.

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