Page 19 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

Chapter Eight

Archer

W atching Gideon cook was a treat. Certainly unlike anything I’d done since early childhood when I kept Mom company in the kitchen. Once the twins had come along, those special times between the two of us ended.

Cherry was the contented child while Cherish was the holy terror. The next few had been relatively sedate until Chelsea’s arrival. Then the proverbial Hell had broken loose, and sanity was never seen again.

Why my parents decided eight children was necessary was truly beyond me. But I loved my siblings. Loved their spouses, the nieces and nephews…

Family gatherings were instruments of torture. My parents’ massive sprawling house could barely contain the mayhem.

Given her advancing years, my mother finally agreed to have assistance in the kitchen .

That meant Cherry, Cherish, Cherish’s wife Maris, and Chuck’s wife Tilly descending on the house the day before any major event and cooking up a storm.

I attempted to be the last to arrive and the first to leave.

Didn’t always work out that way.

As Gideon prattled on about cheese-to-milk ratio, I let the words wash over me.

The man was adorable when flustered. Last night, during the heated argument, he stood his ground.

Today he was flitting here and there. Well, flitting was the wrong verb.

He moved deliberately and, if I didn’t miss my mark, with some pain.

But he hummed like a hummingbird. With pent-up energy.

“Are you all right?”

“Hmm?” He looked up as he stirred the macaroni with milk and shredded cheese. Orange cheddar—my favorite.

“You seem distracted.”

The man pressed a finger to his temple. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. I have a video chat with the kids at three, and then an appointment at five. Staying focused is hard, you know? Well, of course you don’t know. You’re laser focused. You’d have to be.”

I didn’t see the correlation but let it go. “You’re going to see your kids. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” More stirring. “Trevor has a hard time paying attention. Melodie just keeps asking me when I’m coming home.

I know Leo’s told them I won’t be, but they don’t understand.

They can’t comprehend how they can see me but that I’m not really there.

Or that they’ll never see me in person again. ”

“Never is a long time.”

Gideon shot me an I get that look. “Leo’s the immovable object. As long as he says no, then it’s no.”

“What’s the appointment?” Time to pivot .

For which I was rewarded with an exasperated sigh. “I called a counselor. A therapist. A psychologist. Or something.”

How am I supposed to respond to that?

Apparently I didn’t need to, because Gideon just kept right on going.

“And I don’t want to be doing this because I don’t think I need help.

I mean, I know I had a problem, but I’m past it, and Leo will never believe me.

And since he’s the one who suggested I go, I figure I’d better, right?

But is this going to help me? I doubt it.

And will Leo suddenly trust me if I see a counselor?

Doubtful. More money spent on something that is probably going to be a dud. ”

“And yet you’re going.”

More stirring. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“You said money was an issue.”

Gideon rubbed his forehead. “Money’s always an issue.” He waved it off. “None of your concern.”

Again, how easy would it be to whip out my check book and cut a check? I’d never notice. Or if I could figure out where he banked, perhaps I could arrange an inter-account transfer.

I wouldn’t do it, though. The man was prideful. As was I. Took one to know one.

“If your appointment is at five, how will you get home? Won’t it be dark?”

Gideon cursed under his breath. “Fuck my life.”

Not a word that often passed my mouth, even at the worst of times. “Look, I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll drive you. I’m certain there’ll be a waiting room. I can work on my phone or listen to a podcast. Law Review dropped a new one yesterday I’ve been interested in listening to.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. ”

The man’s plaintive tone triggered something deep within me. I rose and slowly advanced. When I got closer, I stooped my shoulders so our gazes met at the same level. “You didn’t ask. I offered. Least I can do since you’ve entertained me today. You won’t let me pay you.”

A scowl.

“You won’t accept my thanks in anything other than a perfunctory manner.”

The scowl deepened.

“So let me do this for you. No skin off my nose. And if you want to thank me…feed me dinner.” Hopefully I wouldn’t add too much to his food budget. I could slide a few twenties under the cutlery in the drawer and then he’d think he’d been forgetful.

Hopefully.

“You want more of my cooking?”

I held his gaze. “I’ll take more of whatever you’re offering. I enjoy your companionship. You’re easy to get along with.”

You turn me on in ways I’m not willing to examine too closely.

A curt nod. “Okay. I’ll put some ribs in the slow cooker before we go.”

“Splendid.”

Lunch passed with amiable conversation that skittered over light topics and avoided delving too deep. As we rose to do the dishes, Gideon placed a hand on my arm.

“I have another favor to ask.”

“Whatever it is, I agree.”

A soft smile. “You need to be careful with promises like that.”

“True.” A fondness settled in me. “But something tells me you won’t ask for more than I’m able to give.”

“An hour on your netbook.”

Ah .

“Of course.”

“It’s just… I bought a new camera so the kids can see me, but my monitor’s really old, and I can barely see them. I’ll bet your netbook has some impressive picture quality.”

“It does. We can hook up your camera, and you’ll have a better view of the kids.

” I’d picked the thing up at London Drugs this morning, and it was top of the line for what I needed.

I just hadn’t wanted to go back to Vancouver to get my work laptop.

Hell, I could scrub my personal stuff and leave the damn thing for Gideon.

I’d just needed something to tide me over until I went back to my life.

“And, could you, that is, would you mind sitting near me?”

“If it means that much to you, of course I will.” His request surprised me. To invite a virtual stranger to attend such a private moment had to mean something. I just wasn’t sure what.

He squeezed my arm before releasing it. Then he rubbed his brow.

“Look, you cooked, I’ll clean. Why don’t you lie down for a bit? You said you’re seeing the kids at three, right? We can get everything set up at two-thirty so you’ll be ready.”

Said brow furrowed. “I’m okay.”

“No one said you weren’t. But you seem a little sluggish, and I know you want to be at your best for the kids.”

He put down the dishes. “You’re right. Thank you.” He offered a small smile, then walked out of the room. Moments later, his heavy tread carried up the squeaky stairs. For a lighter man, he walked as if carrying the weight of the world.

Cleaning up took little time, and soon I found myself back at my computer.

Staring at the blinking cursor.

I hadn’t actually opened my email program, instead choosing to scroll through news sites, design sites, as well as sites about creating a warm and inviting home.

Something Gideon said had stuck. How would I deal with my family?

They would come. Eventually one of them would discover the address, and they’d all descend upon me. A day ago, that thought annoyed.

Today? After seeing how isolated and miserable Gideon was? Not so much.

What if I built a secondary structure on the property?

A cabin with a couple of bedrooms. Something that blended into the landscape so as not to disrupt, but that had enough space to handle at least one family at a time.

And I’d do well to create a schedule. Dedicate at least one weekend a month to hosting.

Does that mean you plan to stay in Mission City more often?

This was intended to be a weekend retreat.

I faced some daunting challenges. The commute into Vancouver would be tricky.

Driving was a pain in the ass and not environmentally friendly.

The commuter train was the logical option, but that meant being on the road home by six. Often my days stretched beyond that.

Do they need to?

I’d always felt that yes, they did. Now I wondered.

What if I take fewer cases? What if I focus more on my health?

Nope. Shut it down. Not going there.

But you have to. Eventually the real world will come calling. What will you do then?

A nudge of my knee brought me out of my reverie.

Lucky gazed up at me with baleful eyes. The pooch had slept placidly through lunch, but now looked ready to go out.

I rose, stretched, and snagged my coat. “You want to go see Riley?”

The dog huffed.

“Do you know Riley?”

A cocked head .

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I entered the laundry room and found several leashes. Given we were heading to a construction site, a short leash was in order. Riley was prodigiously careful—never a stray nail lying around—but being responsible for another creature meant being careful.

The skies had clouded over since this morning.

I hadn’t noticed, being so focused on my research.

As we crossed the property line, Lucky insisted on tugging.

I was uncertain whether to focus on keeping up with the dog or to attempt to bring the dog to heel. “Could you slow down?”

The path was worn, but overgrown in parts. At one point, the neighbors had obviously been close, with movement back and forth.

There’d been an old double-wide on my property years ago, but it’d been demolished before the acreage had been put up on the market.

Riley spotted me, waved, and jogged over. “Was wondering if you’d come back. Trailer not to your liking?”

Her green eyes sparkled. As they always did.