Page 92 of The Archer and his Rosebud

Leaning forward, Mrs. Reynolds’ eyes glisten with tears. “I’m so sorry Ty has caused you unwarranted distress. Without the full picture, we were just trying to give our son the chance to know his daughter, to be in her life. We’d never want to disrupt the life you’ve given her. You seem like a wonderful mother, Willa.”

“And if Ty actually wanted to be her father, with an opportunity to prove himself, I’d let him, but I don’t think in his heart he does.”

Mrs. Reynolds wipes an escaping tear with an agreeing nod, clearing her throat. “Do you have pictures of her with you?”

“Of course.”

Moving to her side, we spend the next hour scrolling through my camera roll—from Clem’s birth up to a shot I took of her yesterday lifting herself up on her tummy. And to further his cause in their eyes, I share a picture I snuck with Clem and Archer in a tender moment at Christmas.

“She’s so beautiful, Willa. And I’d know those baby blues anywhere.” Mrs. Reynolds smiles and wipes a handkerchief below her nose.

After discussing custody a bit more, we part ways with a hug and promise that we’ll meet up in a couple weeks, so they can officially meet their granddaughter.

When their front door closes behind me, it’s after 5:00 p.m., and I can’t get on the highway fast enough.

I can’t reach Archer fast enough.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

ARCHER

After Willa’scall this afternoon, I canceled two client meetings and set my phone and email toaway. I don’t need sleep. I’ll work through the night to catch up if I must. Anything to soak up every moment with Clementine. I’ll take hours and hours of keeping my gaze pinned on the howler monkey who stole my heart before her mother did, and it’ll never be enough.

Going against every fiber of my being, I didn’t ask where Willa was heading when she showed up looking heartbreakingly beautiful in a fitted turtleneck sweater dress. The blue-gray knit matched the darkest specks in her eyes, and the material clung to a suspiciously thin frame in comparison to the woman I held in my arms fourteen nights ago. Fourteen nights. Man, I miss the hell out of her, but rather than chance hurting her with declarations and pleas, I snuggled Clem and waved goodbye as she drove away minutes after arriving.

With no idea of how long I have, I become the worst babysitter ever and take advantage of every minute I’m granted. Clem’s so entertained with our playtime and giggles that she hasn’t napped when the boys’ school bus drives down the street and Eli walks through the door.

“Clemmy!” Eli’s shout startles a pout from Clem before he slides to the ground greeting her with pure joy on his face.

Our little visitor turns into a mermaid, her legs kicking up a storm as she flops on her tummy and pushes up on her hands. Their shared giggles warm my heart and fill my soul. Sitting back, I allow Eli time to soak up Clem’s presence.

The front door opens and shuts a second time as Nolan straggles in behind Eli. My eldest child turns into a too-cool-for-elementary-school young man more and more each day.

His socked feet hit the steps as he calls, “Dad, did you know it’s gonna snow tonight?”

I glance toward the window. “It is?”

“Yeah. My teacher said—” He’s still tugging his heavy coat off when he reaches the landing and stops. “Clem’s here?”

Her babbling answers for me, but I reply, “She sure is.”

The beginning of a smile appears and he steps forward before stopping suddenly. His face scrunches as he looks around the main floor. “Willa’s not here?”

Willa, Clem, and I are not the only ones who were hurt when Ty forced our separation. Nolan and Eli were too. It’s not like I’ve paraded women, or a woman at all, around them. They knew Willa was someone important in my life, and she was becoming someone special in theirs. To lose that newly formed bond is painful for two boys who’ve endured enough trauma in their young lives.

“She had some things she needed to do this afternoon, bud. I’m just babysitting Clem for a few hours to help out.”

Disappointment twists his mouth, and I push up from the floor. “What’s this you say about snow?”

Leaving his coat on the couch, Nolan inches closer to where Clementine and Eli are playing. “Miss. Hoover said we’re getting so much snow tonight we might not have school tomorrow.”

“Wow, that much, huh?” I haven’t watched the news in days. There could be a blizzard on the way, and I wouldn’t know about it. Pulling up the weather app on my phone, I move to the kitchen to pull out their after-school snack.

“Look at her doing push-ups, Nol.”

My head lifts at Eli’s voice, and I find Nolan keeping his distance from Clem, though she seems to be doing everything in her power to pivot toward him. “Good job,” Nolan mutters, joining me at the kitchen island.

“Wanna talk about whatever’s bugging you?” I hand him an orange to peel while I pull cheese and grapes out of the refrigerator. I know my son. If I give him space and focus on the snacks, he’ll open up.

---