Page 39 of Red River

River gave Lake a pointed look. "Still, you should thank Archer."

I could sense it right away—River didn’t want Lake getting too used to special treatment. He knew the boy had a way of effortlessly evoking that kind of reaction in people, charming them with his sweet looks. It happened almost automatically—one cute smile, and they would all swoon—but River wasn’t about to let it make Lake entitled. How did I know it? No idea!

"Thanks, Archer," Lake said.

"No problem. Let’s get back to the kitchen; it’s windy out here."

We went inside. Little Lake sat next to me at the table, his big green eyes locked onto my face. Then, out of nowhere, he asked:

"Are you going to be my new father? Van said it."

My gaze met River’s. It was a good question, asked with the sincerity and innocence of a child.

"Would you like that?"

Lake looked thoughtful. "You probably think I’m weird since my father just died recently, but yeah, I’d like that. Having a father is important. You could be my backup father."

"That’s a big responsibility. Do you think I’d be a suitable candidate?" I asked, trying to keep a solemn tone.

Lake tilted his head, studying me with comical seriousness. "You're really young; you look like you could be my brother… But you're also so big! Like fathers!"

"Maybe wait a bit before making up your mind?"

"Then how about you be my father just for a month? And after that, I’ll decide if you get the job!"

"Deal!"

I laughed, and we high-fived.

For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was Lake trying to sip the last drop of milk from his glass. River watched him with pursed lips. For obvious reasons, this conversation seemed to make him uncomfortable. Then, he placed a small sandwich in front of his son, but the boy ignored it.

"Can I go see the hens now?"

"Lake, eat your breakfast first," River muttered.

"But…"

"What do you say we wait until your brothers arrive, and then I’ll show you my henhouse? The more, the merrier," I said, shifting the conversation slightly.

"Is it true that your chickens don't have names?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But I’m hoping you’ll help me come up with some."

"Yes! Small chicks are so cute!"

"Well, the ones I have are already older and laying eggs." I got up and opened the fridge. "Look, I have some fresh eggs from them."

"I loved boiled eggs!" Lake nearly bounced in his seat with excitement.

"And after the chicken tour, we have an appointment at school to get you enrolled—"

Just then, the doorbell rang. I rushed to open it for Oliver, who, as always, arrived at exactly 7 am.

Oliver knew he’d be meeting my new housemates today, so he brought small packages—a few gifts for the kids. He was a beta and didn’t have children of his own, just two nephews, so the prospect of having more company genuinely thrilled him. When we talked about it before, he’d said, "Good! It'll finally liven up the house!"

The older men stepped into the kitchen, and I gestured between him and River.

"River, let me introduce you to Oliver. Since I’ve been here, he’s been cooking and cleaning for me every day. He lives just a mile away, so—"

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