“We, your dad and me, didn’t get on. Went from barely friendly to fighting—I’m not proud of it but it’s true.” He shook his head. “Made it hard for the ladies to stay friends.” He shrugged. “Your mom visited here twice. The first time, your brother was at camp or something, so she came to see Mags. She had a great time, stayed a few weeks and relaxed. Your dad showed up and took her home. Her letters got further apart, but time does that sometimes. Mags missed her.” He looked at her. “She came back after Mags died. Helped me with my kids—a houseful of teens hurting. She made them smile, but I could tell she was worn out, tired, sad.” He looked at her. “I only asked once why she stayed. She couldn’t leave him, she said, didn’t want to let you down or drag you through a messy divorce.”
Which was exactly what would have happened.
“She said taking care of you was more important than being happy.”
Eden swallowed, knowing exactly how that felt. Her babies were the only thing that made her happy. And her father offered the only security she had—hard as he was.
“That’s it? You’re telling me he wants me to pull the refuge’s funding because of some misplaced rivalry?”
Teddy frowned, stopping in his tracks. “Pull funding? Archer’ll be torn up over that.”
She nodded. Archer lived for his work, for those animals. He loved them unconditionally. He was a good man. A man she didn’t want to hurt, not in the least.
Her father. She had no illusions about her father; everything he did had a purpose. Which was smart business, she supposed. But now she knew—deep down—this wasn’t business; this was personal.
And it was wrong. Self-loathing rose up, churning in her gut. She didn’t care what he said or did; she would do her job. And if Archer’s numbers and books checked out the way she knew they would, she’d make sure the board knew it. “I’m going do my job, Mr. Boone. And all that I can to help the refuge.”
Teddy stared at her. “Seems to me you’re taking a personal interest in this.”
She didn’t say a word; she couldn’t.
“You care about my son.” He spoke softly, the way Archer spoke to a frightened horse.
She had no answer for that. Not one she wanted to consider. “I don’t believe a person should stand by and watch an injustice happen.”
Teddy grinned. “What do you plan on doing?”
She realized they were almost to the refuge. “The board will want irrefutable evidence that Archer has done everything he’s set out to do. That the refuge is a worthwhile investment. I’ll make sure they know he has.”
Teddy’s grin dimmed. “And?”
She frowned at him. “This is all business, Mr. Boone.”
“Is it? That’s why Archer doesn’t know who you are?” He was looking at her, intently, his smile slowly returning. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.” He shook his head, amused.
“Mr. Boone, please. I respect Archer...admire him...” She broke off and drew in a deep breath. She should tell Archer the truth. But she was scared. Whatever was between them was fragile. Not that she could let it develop into anything. She couldn’t—their lives didn’t fit.
She shook her head, hating her roundabout train of thought. As frustrated as she was with her own indecision, she wasn’t going to talk to Archer’s father about it. Instead, she redirected the conversation. “Did my mother want to start an endowment for the refuge?”
He shrugged, his eyes searching hers before he answered. “I think so. I’ll see if I can find her letters to Mags.”
“Letters?”
“Rachel and Mags wrote regularly. An old-fashioned notion these days.” He smiled. “But Mags looked forward to them, like a visit from a loved one.”
This was good. And bad. Right now, she had questions without answers. But what if, as her father warned her, she didn’t like the answers? There was no way to erase what she learned. “If you can find them,” she murmured, hesitant. “Please.”
“Momma! Momma!” Ivy called out. “Look!”
Eden turned back to find her daughter running toward her, a huge bouquet of wildflowers in her arms.
She stooped, turning Lily so she could see the flowers. “Look, Lily. Sissy has flowers.”
>
“Si-si-me-me-maw!” Lily squealed, her fist flailing.
“Here.” Ivy poked some red and pink flowers into Eden’s braid. “Like a princess.”