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'I '
He sighed. 'Do you not want me there?'
She blinked. 'No. It's not that.'
'Do you want me to stay away?'
'No. But I feel...' She looked at her fingernails as if they fascinated her.
'What?'
'I feel like I'm bad for you.'
He hung his head and sighed. 'Betsey?'
'Yeah?'
'Do I look like a moron?'
'No.'
'Do I look incompetent? Do you consider me stupid?'
'No and no.'
'Then let me worry about me, sweetheart. Let me decide who or what's bad for me.'
'I worry about you,' she said, softly.
He grinned at her. 'I know you do. And that makes me the luckiest man in the world.'
She shook her head. 'Archie '
'Hey. I won't have you talking bad about my girl. Anyone who talks bad about her has to answer to me. Now...when would you like to go see Miller?'
'Tomorrow? After work?'
'Fine by me. We'll go and hopefully you'll get what you need. You can make your decision and put this all behind you. But make sure you honour what you feel, Betsey. Actually, pay attention to it. You're allowed to feel the stuff you feel. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.'
She nodded. Then Tony slid a plate into the order window and she hopped up. 'Gotta work. They don't pay me to sit around with handsome men.'
Archie played along. He turned, acting angry. 'Where is he? I'll kick his a.s.s.'
She laughed softly, then leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. Then the lips. 'He's right here,' she said. 'And I'm grateful for it.'
Chapter 23.
Archie watched her go. His heart felt heavy for Betsey. He wished she didn't dissect her own feelings so much. For a woman who was very non-judgemental about everyone else around her, she sure judged herself pretty harshly.
Maybe a trip to the jail was exactly what she needed. Maybe facing Miller would change some things for her. Like when kids see the thing that terrified them when they were small, and it is so much less terrifying than it had been.
Hopefully Miller had lost some of his malicious influence. He was old now. Broken. Sick. Seeing him as a prisoner and not an abductor might be just the right thing to free Betsey from what haunted her.
If he had his way, he'd go in and smear the man all over the floor. Break him and beat him for what he'd done to those girls, what he'd tried to do to her.
But he couldn't do that. So the best he could offer was a trip to the jail, a hand to hold, moral support.
He loved her. He'd told her that. He just prayed she felt the same, but if she didn't, as long as she gave him a chance to show her that he was worth her love, he'd be happy.
He finished his lunch, pulled her in for a brief kiss and said, 'I have to get back to work.'
'I know.'
'Come see me when you get home.'
'Archie '
'That wasn't a request,' he said, using the same tone he'd used the day he'd taken her. Pinned her down, had her from behind all the mental images from that day came flooding back. 'As soon as you get home.'
Now that he'd done it, if she said no, he'd know he needed to back off and give her more s.p.a.ce than even she thought she needed.
She blinked and then her expression turned to relief. Even some excitement. 'OK. I will.' She smiled. 'But I still think I'm bad news for you, Archie. However...when it comes to not seeing you, I'm weak. I want to see you.' She smiled again and it gave him hope.
Archie hadn't offered her a ride. Something in her expression told him that she needed some time to herself. At first he wondered how she had planned on getting to the d.a.m.n prison without him. Then he shook his head at himself.
'As if she hasn't lived all this time without the likes of you. How stuck up are you, dumb a.s.s?'
The trailer park was quiet. Thankfully there were no emergencies. He busied himself raking and clearing some leaves and gathering the landscaping refuse for the county pickup the following day. They were dusted with snow, which didn't make it any easier. But if Archie missed this pickup, it would be weeks before they came around again.
'You OK, boy?'
He turned to find Charlie watching him. The man was fairly stooped if you paid attention. His face was a ma.s.s of wrinkles, his knuckles knots from arthritis. He chomped, as always, on that ever-present awful cigar.
'I'm fine. Why?'
'You look like a man who's working real hard not to think about something.'
Archie laughed. It was a surprisingly harsh sound. 'I am, actually, and failing miserably.'
He raked a big fat bundle of leaves and then started to heave them into a black contractor's bag.
'Betsey?'
Archie glanced up at the old man, weighing his options. Honesty or feign ignorance?
'Yep.'
Charlie nodded quickly, puffed his cigar. 'She's a good girl. Was kind of...on shaky ground, I guess you'd say, when she came here. Her uncle paid the rent on her lot for a while. Then she got less shaky, more settled, and she took over her own rent. She's a hard worker, that Betsey.'
Archie returned to his leaves. He could smell wood smoke on the wind. Someone in a nearby home had their fire going. 'That she is.'
'She's sweet, too.'
'Agreed.'
'No plans on hurting her, right?' Archie glanced up at Charlie. The old man shrugged. 'Hey, girl's got no daddy. I can care.'
Archie found himself smiling. He pushed more leaves into the growing bag. 'None. No plans to hurt her. I love her, actually. Since you're so nosy, Charlie.'
'Seems fast.'
Archie sighed. 'That it does. Hey, since when do men stand around discussing their feelings?'
Charlie grinned at him, showing a row of nicotine-stained teeth. 'We have evolved. We feel our feelings and we talk about them.'
Archie grunted. 'Charlie, I think you should be asking Betsey if she has any intention of hurting me. I know it's soon, but I'm OK with that. I think that sometimes soon is a sign. Soon means you're attracted. Like metal to a magnet. And that's good. It might be my only chance to be with a woman who attracts me like a magnet. But the real question is, how does the magnet feel?'
The bag was full. How had that happened? He tied it and began a new pile of leaves.
Charlie surprised him by snorting like a teenager. 'Aren't you paying attention? She feels the same, that's why she's so twisted up. Betsey carries a good amount of guilt around with her. Don't know why. But she does. She is constantly paying for something I don't think she's ever done. Knowing her, she's worried she's bad for you.'
Archie looked up, startled. 'That's what she said.'
'Yep. See. She's got all kinds of things going on in that pretty head. But she's still young. So she has time to clear them all out.'
'I want to help her.'
'Then love her and be patient with her. She'll get through it.' Charlie dropped the cigar and then put it out with his boot. He picked it up and held it. 'She'll realise she's got nothing to feel bad about and that you're a catch.'
Archie couldn't help but laugh. He stood, stretched his back. 'Why, Charlie, you sweet talker, you.'
The old man chuckled and pointed at him with the dead cigar b.u.t.t. 'Look, smart a.s.s, I told you I was evolved.' He turned on the heels of his work boots and headed back to his office.
He worked until a gloved hand touched his shoulder. 'Archie?'
He looked up at a very red-nosed, wind-kissed Betsey. 'Hey.'
'Hey,' she said. Archie could feel her s.h.i.+vering.
'G.o.dd.a.m.n it,' he said, straightening up. 'I knew I should have come back and got you. It's really cold. Even for this time of year.'
She smiled, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. 'It's fine. I'm a big girl. I've walked home in worse. Blizzards even,' she said, laughing. A s.h.i.+ver shot through her from head to toe and he fought the urge to pull her close and hold her. Instead he shoved his hands in his pockets and waited.
'So you're OK?'
'I'm fine. I walked and I thought.'
'And?'
'Take me inside and I'll tell you.'
He grabbed her mittened hand and tugged her towards his trailer. 'Aren't I the one who should be giving the orders?'
It might have been his imagination but her cheeks got brighter at his words. In the trailer, he slammed the door shut and pressed the handle to seal it. He thumbed the lock, knowing his work day was over. As he washed his hands, he kept silent. Waiting to see if she'd speak. When he turned, her coat and her boots were gone. Gloves and hat too. She sat in his one easy chair in her horribly ugly waitress outfit, unwinding her hair from a bun. He thought he'd never seen a more beautiful woman.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'But I have to be honest...'
He waited. The words 'don't be sorry' died on his lips.
'What?'
'I'm still scared. Scared that you deserve better than me.'
He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her idea that she was somehow less than. 'Does how I feel mean anything?'
'Yes...and no.'
'OK, then, Betsey,' he said. 'Don't decide. You have tons of time. No one needs a profession of love right now.'
'But you '
'What?' he asked, letting just a hint of steel into his voice. He watched her eyes brighten a little at it. Watched her straighten her spine. 'Are you worried because I told you that I love you?'
Her eyes darted to her stockinged feet as if she found them fascinating. 'You did,' she whispered.
'I did. And I do,' he said. 'I love you. But that's not dependent on you loving me.' He grabbed a length of twine from a shelf. The previous owner had all kind of handyman knicknacks set around. 'I love you whether you love me or not. Even if you never love me, Betsey, it doesn't change the fact that I love you.'
Tears s.h.i.+mmered on the edge of her lower lids. He stuck the twine in his jacket pocket and held his hand out. She looked at him for a long moment and then took it. He stood her in the middle of the room. 'Do not move,' he said.
She nodded.
Archie hit the small heater on the wall and heard it kick to life. He made sure all the blinds were down.
He came back to study her. Running his hands down her weather-damp hair to smooth it. It wasn't raining but the air seemed misty outside. A precursor to November fog maybe. He brushed it back behind her shoulders and gave her a very soft, very proper kiss. Then he found the tab on her zipper, just above her cleavage, and drew it down. Her uniform parted, allowing him a view of the pale turquoise bra beneath. The fact that it was soft and sheer rattled him to his bones. And then further down, a glimpse of her hard nipples. Archie dipped his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth through the barely-there fabric of her bra.
The sound of her startled gasp filled the tiny trailer.
He straightened up, studied the hard knot of flesh, stroking it with his thumb so it wouldn't soften. Then, saying nothing, he drew the zipper down to where it stopped, just above her pubic bone. She stood there utterly motionless, breathing shallowly, watching him.
Archie looked her in the eye, suspending that moment in time. Remaining silent, he worked the uniform down her body so that it slid off her arms, parted to allow her hips through. He held his hand out and she steadied herself with it it made his heart crimp the way she seemed to always blindly trust him and she stepped free of the mustard-yellow monstrosity she had to wear to work every day.