Page 4 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

Chapter Two

Archer

I awoke with a start when a large beast jumped onto the bed I was sleeping upon, placed his paws on my chest, and then licked every inch of my face.

Ew. Just…gross.

The dog’s action did have the undoubtedly desired effect of yanking me out of a perfectly lovely dream, and unceremoniously dumping me back into the world of the living.

The tendrils of the dream ebbed away, leaving a sense of unease, but not actual memory of what I’d been dreaming about.

Damn inconvenient. When the dog moved in for another kiss, I issued a terse, “get off”. Amazingly, the mutt backed off.

Hopping off the bed, the pooch spun in circles at the door.

Was this, as my brother Chuck was fond of calling it, the pee-pee dance ?

My nephews had done this dance more than once, and one time, with no other adult around, Lewis had dropped to the floor and urinated on my Indigenous-made woven rug.

Now, the rug hadn’t been my favorite piece in the house, but my wife Thea had chosen it, so knowledge of what she’d do if she discovered what happened prompted me to call emergency cleaners and offer them five times the going rate to come out on Christmas Day.

I’d never ignored a pee-pee dance since.

Shoving back the covers, I grabbed for the clothes Gideon had lent me.

The too-short jogging pants, the too-tight hoodie.

The battered socks. I followed the dog down the stairs and allowed myself to be led to the laundry room.

Although the dog appeared ready to bound out of there, I exercised a modicum of prudence.

I grabbed what appeared to be a leash and clipped it on to the dog’s collar.

After I opened the door a fraction, the dog bounded out.

I barely had time to register what was happening before the leash went taut and I was being dragged out into the dark and dreary morning without even the benefit of shoes or a coat.

“Lucky.” Said through gritted teeth, but the monster appeared to be completely unconcerned.

He sniffed continuously until finding the perfect tree and relieving himself.

I should look away . At such a lack of decorum. I couldn’t, though. I’d always wanted to have a dog while growing up, and now the awesome responsibility and the awesome beauty of having such a magnificent creature to call my own had me in awe.

When he completed his business, he bounded back over to me.

I let the dog in. Hmm, the torrential rain had stopped, and a thick fog had set in. Seven-thirteen, according to my watch. When was the last time I’d slept almost twelve straight hours ?

Quite a while. Perhaps when I had pneumonia three years ago. Possibly not even then, as I’d kept working, much to my doctor’s dismay.

Lucky bolted into the house, and I followed him at a more-sedate pace.

I retraced my steps from last night, following the warmth coming from the fireplace.

I rounded the sofa to find my host fast asleep.

In that sleep, Gideon appeared youthful.

The lines of worry dissipated, making his age far more difficult to discern.

We hadn’t discussed ages last night. Frankly, we’d discussed little. My host had been quite nervous, and I’d been too fatigued to cope with anything other than the necessities. Now, as the gray light filled the home, I noted the charm of its retro look.

Straight out of the 1960s, complete with shag carpet, linoleum flooring, painted fireplace, and popcorn ceiling.

Although I’d never lived in a home such as this, I’d visited friends who did. My wealthy parents didn’t make class distinctions, so I hung out with folks from all social strata. Some of those young men and women were still my friends today.

Lucky nudged my hand.

Oh, food.

Couldn’t be that difficult, could it? I walked into the kitchen and delved into every cupboard until I located the one with a bin of what appeared to be kibble. A dog bowl and a scoop sat next to it. I eyed the dog. “One scoop?”

He held my gaze.

If only I could know what you’re thinking.

He cocked his head to the side, as if demanding to know what was taking so long.

I opened the lid, scooped out one portion, then put the bowl on the ground .

The dog devoured it noisily.

Will he wake Gideon? Hopefully, no. The man deserved rest. Everyone deserved rest, if they needed it.

The water bowl appeared low, so I refilled it.

The dog nudged me before heading over and slurping.

What now?

I could cook. Not skilled, but I was competent in the kitchen. Mother insisted I learn with my sisters. No gender roles in her house. I knew how to clean, and my sisters were competent at household repairs. A good education all around.

These days, though, I simply called someone if something needed to be repaired. Trickle-down economics. My income meant I could afford to hire others to perform those services.

Okay.

Get the lay of the land.

Silence.

Okay. The generator was no longer working, so power had been restored? Did that mean the tree had been cleared? Hope so.

Bacon, eggs, and bread were easy to locate. Within a few minutes, I settled into my routine, starting the coffee maker as the eggs cooked. I enjoyed a dark brew almost as much as tea, and this morning demanded strong caffeine.

“Hey, you didn’t have to cook.”

I pivoted to find a very sleep-rumpled Gideon at the entrance to the galley kitchen. “I don’t mind. Was something helpful I could do.” I scratched my nose with my forearm. “A way to repay your kindness.”

He scratched his belly. “You mind if I run upstairs and put on fresh clothes?” He raked his hand through his hair. “And maybe freshen up? ”

Personally, I love those cartoon pajamas. You’re pretty cute the way you are. But I’d never say so. “I’ll keep the food warm. Oh, I fed Lucky. I presumed that would be acceptable.”

“Very appreciated.”

Gideon’s eyes were glassy.

“I also let him out. Are you all right?”

The man rubbed his hand across his face, scratching the stubble. “Just need to wake up, you know? I’m not a morning person.” He petted the dog between his droopy ears. “But this guy wakes me up early. Oh, did he wake you up?”

“I needed to rise anyway. He’s an adorable dog.”

Gideon snickered. “Well, he’s something. Okay, I’ll be right back.” He headed toward the stairs.

I turned my attention back to the food. I buttered the toast when it popped. Do I turn on the oven and put everything in there to keep it warm?

After what felt like mere moments, Gideon reappeared. “That was quick.” He hadn’t been gone more than two or three minutes.

“I’m a pretty easygoing guy. Change of clothes, splash water on my face, and I’m good to go.” He stepped into the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

As he came closer, the height difference became more pronounced. As did our builds. He was slight compared to my brawn. I took tremendous pride in my body. Appearances were everything in my line of work, and being tall, attractive, and physically fit carried me well.

Something in this man spoke to me, though. His shoulders were most often rounded. Like he wanted to make himself smaller. Wanted not to be noticed.

Fanciful .

Why would anyone not want to take up their due space in the world? Thea used to accuse me of taking up too much space in the world. I’d never understood the comment, but now I faced the antithesis of that.

I dished out the eggs and removed the bacon from the paper towel they were draining on. A passable job, right? I hoped my host felt the same.

He pointed to the coffee maker.

“Black, please.” I plated the toast.

The man nodded and set about making two cups. He added a dollop of milk and a teaspoon of sugar to his own.

We sat at the table together, and the first few bites were consumed in silence.

Finally, I ventured to speak. “I thank you again for last night. Might I borrow your phone to place a call?”

He nodded, made his way to the kitchen, and returned with his cell phone.

I didn’t mean you had to go get it right now.

. . I nodded gratefully and set the phone aside.

I’ll make the call after breakfast . The phone was several models out of date.

Everything in this house felt just a bit dated whereas I was accustomed to modern everything.

Leaving my laptop back at the office had been a rash decision—as was driving to my country property with an impending storm brewing.

Getting away had been my top priority. I’d succeeded. Spectacularly.

“Who, uh, are you going to call?” Gideon forked up some eggs and popped them into his mouth.

“I’ll begin with my foreperson, Riley. She knows all the locals and will undoubtedly steer me in the appropriate direction.”

“Yeah, the woman’s amazing.”

“You know her?” Interesting .

He shrugged. “I met her a couple of times both out here and in town. Solid reputation. She and her people do good work. Lots of stuff for charity too.”

Of this, I was aware. I hadn’t specifically selected the woman for her charitable endeavors, but hearing she directed a percentage of her profits to homeless charities, and that she and her crew volunteered during their downtimes to help build and rebuild homes, sat well with me.

I wasn’t nearly as dedicated but had taken on a few clients over the years who needed assistance and were unable to afford any help.

Legal aid was good in theory, but they were woefully underfunded and understaffed.

“What is it you do?” Funny, I hadn’t thought to ask the question last night. Proper conversation starter.

“I, uh, am sort of between gigs.”

What on earth did that mean? Unemployed? Living on some kind of trust fund? Getting by on social assistance? The response baffled me.

He speared a piece of bacon but didn’t eat it. “And what do you do?”

“I’m an attorney.”

The man laid his fork down and squinted at me. “A lawyer, eh?”

Definite bite. Out of proportion. What does he have against lawyers?

“What kind of lawyer?”

“I’m a divorce attorney.”