Page 61 of Gideon's Gratitude

Archer cocked his head.

“I need to get Lucky’s harness. I’ll be right back.”

Lucky whined as I leapt out of the dry SUV and hustled over to my car.

I was quick to unhook the safety contraption and to move back to the SUV as fast as I could.

The dog eyed me as I hooked it up to the back seat belt and then allowed me to hook him into it.

Then I slid into the front seat, now quite soaked.

“I checked the weather forecast.” Archer glanced at me. “The meteorologist said we’re into another atmospheric river. I’d never heard of these things before the flood.”

The once-in-a-hundred-years flood that had destroyed so much of our beautiful province. Coupled with the yearly fire season. Now, the province burned or drowned for much of the year.

“Did they say when it’d end?”

“Tomorrow.” Archer peered through the windshield.

“Make sure to get back to your hotel as soon as you can.” Guilt beset me. “I mean, we don’t have as many trees fall when it’s just rain, but it happens.”

“I believe you promised me dinner.”

I hit my forehead with the heel of my hand.

Archer placed a gentle hand on my thigh before pulling it back to the steering wheel.

For safety.

Because otherwise, I would’ve held it in place. Would’ve wanted it to stay there forever.

“I put the ribs in the crock pot. I located a recipe in the stack and followed the instructions.”

Oh Jesus.“I haven’t looked at those instructions in years. Leo, uh, we, loved ribs. A treat, on our budget, but one we indulged in once in a while.” I’d had these in my freezer for a long time, waiting for the perfect reason to cook them up. Waiting for a special occasion. Today—and Archer—definitely qualified.

“You have wonderful memories. You shouldn’t shy away from them. If you want to keep your kids close to you, then you have to keep Leo there as well.”

“How did you get to be so smart?”

He turned from our road onto one of the normally more-populated ones. Even then, no cars were in sight.

“I’m not smart. Just years of observation. Divorce embitters. That’s hardly surprising. But I find that as long as there hasn’t been abuse—or some other horrendous behavior—staying on good terms with your ex creates a healthier world for your children. In turn, those kids have fewer emotional and psychological problems. I have a couple books I can lend you.”

I rubbed my temple.

Archer cut me a side-glance. “I have a better idea. Two of the books have been made into audios. I can download them onto my old iPod and lend them to you. You can listen when you’re cooking or walking the dog.”

He knew. I wasn’t sure how he’d sensed it, but the perceptive man knew. And understood. I wanted to ask, but the GPS directed us to hang a right turn. Not being familiar with this part of town, I’d have to keep an eye out for the counseling center.

The GPS announced we’d arrived before I could make out the sign in the gloom.

Archer eased us into the turn, and we began a gradual climb. Soaring trees lined both sides of the driveway and eventually we arrived at a clearing with a parking lot.

My companion parked the car and shut off the engine. “Are you okay with me coming in and sitting in the waiting room? I’m just as happy out here in the vehicle.”

Oh, he’d brought his messenger bag. Presumably with his netbook. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Unreasonably, I wanted to ask him to join me in the counseling session, but I suspected he’d refuse. Or the counselor would. And, much as I wanted to rely on him as a crutch, I needed to face this on my own. “Please come in.”

“I shall.”

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