Page 72 of Maple Mountain
“No way out but through,” I said.
“He—and I—” He sighed.“Your uncle and I used to belong to a motorcycle club.That’s how I met your mother.She used to ...hang around with us.And ...”
Archer looked at me.
I raised my brows.“Don’t look at me, dude.You started this.”
“And when she found out she was pregnant, she realized she didn’t want to raise you around a bunch of bikers.”
“Because of Unc and him going to prison?”
“No!”Archer’s voice boomed and then it softened when he repeated, “Sorry, no.It had nothing to do with Brooks and everything to do with me.Brooks went to prison long after your mom left.And he went to prison because he was protecting a brother who’d just had a baby girl.And he didn’t want him to go to prison and miss her growing up.”
Her brow furrowed.“Like you missed me growing up.”
“Yeah, like that,” Archer said.“You get what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” Lenni said slowly.“Unc is loyal.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”She paused.“I probably shouldn’t have slugged Robby then.”
“Well,” Archer shrugged, “it seems like you’re pretty loyal too.Must be a Keel trait.”
Her lips pulled up into a smile.
Archer started the engine.“You know what a champion fighter deserves?”
“What?”Lenni asked.
“A champion meal.How does a steak and baked potato for dinner sound?”Archer asked, shooting his daughter a look.
Lenni shot her fist into the air.“Yes!”
“We better hit the store, though.I don’t have steak defrosted,” I said.
“What, no push back on the fact that I’m rewarding my daughter for fighting?”Archer asked me.
I shrugged.“No push back from where I’m sitting.My dad had a rule growing up.You didn’t start fights.But you learned how to finish them.”
Archer put the truck in gear.“No grocery store needed.We’re going out.I’m treating my girls to dinner.”
ChapterSixteen
The Restaurant
Huckleberry Hill didn’t have a steakhouse.We had to drive to Coeur d’Alene, but it was well worth it when we entered the restaurant.
Archer’s hand rode my lower back as though it belonged there.I enjoyed the feel of it, the heat of him, the towering masculine presence behind me.
Lenni ran up to the hostess and asked for their best table.The hostess smiled and showed us to a table where we watched the low winter sun set behind the haze of a north Idaho sky over the lake.
We ordered far too much food, but whatever Lenni exclaimed excitement over, Archer had ordered it.
Archer polished off the last of his filet and then wiped his mouth with the black cloth napkin.“Excuse me.I’ll be right back.”
He sauntered away from the table through the genteel dining room of brass, polished wood, and vintage wall sconces.
