Waiting Fate (21 page)

Archer walked over the fallen fence without a glance, his wet boots squeaking across the vinyl, Austin following close behind. They rounded the corner and Austin stopped him, nodding toward a small window in the basement. There was a dull light coming through the drawn curtains.

They jogged across the back lawn to the porch, moving silently up to the door. It was locked. Of course it was locked, because why would anything be
easy
tonight, and Archer resisted the urge to slam his fist through the fiberglass. Instead he charged it, slamming into the door with his shoulder — he was sure he’d feel the bruise in the morning — and he didn’t feel bad when it splintered at the hinges.

“One more time should do it,” Austin said, and they smashed into the door together. It flew open like they’d hit it with a battering ram. Archer stepped across the threshold and into a kitchen, avoiding the splintered door.

Feet, pounding up the stairs, echoed through the broken room. “Here we go.” Austin said under his breath.

A guy about Archer’s size burst into the room, brandishing what looked like a decorative knife. Austin snickered as the guy swore.

Archer ignored the snickering and the swearing. “Are you Vick?”

“Why should I tell you?” the guy spat. That voice. Archer recognized the voice right off as the one Ivy had been talking to on the phone. Loud. Arrogant.

“Give us Desee back and we’ll walk out of here without pounding your face to an unrecognizable pulp,” Archer said, surprised at the calmness in his own voice.

“I don’t have her.”

“I was there when you told Ivy she’d never see her daughter again. Her puppy was sitting in that ugly truck outside. Where. Is. She.” Archer stepped forward and Vick raised the knife.

“Dude, is that thing even sharp?” Austin asked, finding much more amusement in the situation than Archer was. Vick was shorter than Archer by at least a couple inches, although he probably outweighed him by fifty pounds. But Vick’s weight was all in his stomach, and Archer was a construction worker. To say Vick wasn’t intimidated was an understatement. He backed up as Archer advanced on him.

“Not so tough when you’re not beating up on girls half your size, are you?” Austin asked, almost conversationally, from where he waited in the broken doorway.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I already called the cops. They’re on their way,” Vick snapped.

“Good. That will save us the trouble. Ivy called the cops over an hour ago. They’re already looking for you,” Austin said, still deceptively conversational. But there was a dark threat under his words, and Archer could hear his best friend moving behind him, coming after Vick as well.

Under his scruffy brownish-red beard, Vick paled considerably.

“Ivy’s a lot smarter than you’ve ever given her credit for. And you’re a lot dumber than she gave you credit for. It all works out nicely, doesn’t it?” Austin was right behind Archer now, and Archer glanced over his shoulder and nodded toward the stairs. Without another word Austin left, jogging down the stairs to find Desee.

“She’s
my
daughter. Ivy has no right to keep her from me,” Vick whined, the knife still held between them.

“Ivy’s gonna do whatever it takes to keep her daughter safe. From you.” Seconds later, Austin reappeared, and Archer glanced over to see him carrying Desee tightly against his chest.

“Archie!” she cried. She looked okay, but he could tell she had been crying. Archer breathed a sigh of relief, stepping toward her.

In that second, Vick lunged. Archer just saw him out of the corner of his eye and leaped backward. “Get her out of here!” he yelled at Austin, but Austin was way ahead of him, already sprinting out the door with the little girl tucked under his coat.

Vick attacked again, diving at Archer while he slashed with the knife. It glanced off Archer’s forearm, splitting the skin.
So it is sharp,
Archer thought randomly. Gaining courage as blood welled from Archer’s arm, Vick darted forward. Without thinking, Archer brought his bloody arm back and swung, watching almost in slow motion as his fist shot forward, smashing into Vick’s face.

Vick’s lower body kept coming forward, but his head snapped back as blood burst from his nose and he fell backward to the floor, screaming and holding his face. Archer stood over him, wanting to kick him until he stopped screaming, wanting to take Vick’s knife and… Archer jerked away.
No
.

Through the haze of red he felt some semblance of sanity, and it was Ivy’s voice.
You aren’t like him, Archer.
No, he wasn’t. But he wasn’t a saint either, so he stood over the sobbing monster with one foot planted on Vick’s chest until the cops arrived — so he couldn’t try to escape, of course.

Archer knew he would probably get arrested, but it was worth it. Feeling that worthless piece of — Archer smirked. It was definitely worth getting arrested to feel Vick’s nose crush under his fist.

Over a half-hour later, he found Austin sitting in his truck, Desee on his lap. “I called Ivy,” Austin said as Archer swung the door open.

Desee watched him with big eyes for several seconds before she lunged across the seat into his arms.

“How’d you get out of being arrested?” Austin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Archer shrugged. “Christmas miracle. Let’s take this baby back to her mama.”

Chapter Twenty

Archer was expecting tears. Lots of tears and lots of sobbing. Ivy was waiting for him outside when he pulled up, shaking like she’d never stop; but when she limped over to the truck and wrenched the door open with her good arm, there were no tears.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered. Austin undid the car seat that they’d borrowed from one of the police officers at the scene, and Desee slid out and launched herself into her mama’s good arm. Ivy held her close, the tiny head tucked under Ivy’s chin, and she closed her eyes, but still, there were no tears. “We need to get you to bed, sweet pea. Santa will be here soon.” Holding Desee awkwardly with one arm while the baby wrapped her arms and legs around her like a little monkey, Ivy took her inside.

Archer and Austin followed. “I’m gonna run Austin home. Then I’ll be back, if that’s okay?” Archer asked, his voice low. Bev had gotten Desee and was sobbing over her tiny granddaughter. Even Jack looked a little misty, but Ivy was still dry-eyed.

She smiled up at Archer, an exhausted, pain-filled smile, but a smile. “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.”

“You don’t have to.”

She tipped her head to the side, considering him for several seconds. “You did promise to help me set up her table,” she said, just a hint of mischievousness in her dark eyes.

“That I did.”

****

Life would never be the same. Ivy had faced her worst nightmare and survived. She lay on the bed by Desee, watching her baby’s eyelids flutter in sleep. She never wanted to move, never wanted to let Desee out of her sight again. But life moved on. It didn’t stop because Ivy was terrified. Desee was so little, she would never remember this. One day, she might even have a relationship with her father, and as scared as Ivy was of that happening, she wouldn’t stand in the way. But she would never again stand
by
and watch while Vick tore her life apart.

She wasn’t sure how long Archer had been sitting on the edge of the bed watching them. Forcing her aching body to move, she sat up and scooted up next to him. “She’s safe now. Because of you,” she whispered.

“Well, he’s just lucky you were too injured so he had to deal with me. Heaven help him if you’d have gotten to him first.” Archer winked, shaking his head.

Three hours ago, Ivy thought she would never smile again, but now it came easily. “You’ve got a table to put together.” Ivy nudged him with her good shoulder.

“That I do. But…” he hesitated, and if Ivy didn’t know better, she’d say Archer was
blushing
. That didn’t happen. Archer didn’t get embarrassed. Ever.

“But?” Ivy prompted when he didn’t say anything.

“Remember when you said you didn’t know how to thank me?” He glanced at her and then quickly away.

Ivy quirked an eyebrow. “I have a vague recollection,” she said dryly.

“I know how you could thank me.”

Ivy tried not to snicker. “Oh yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“Kiss you? That’s the thanks you want?” Ivy felt the butterflies explode to life in her stomach.

“Yup.”

Ivy pretended to think it over. “Okay. I can handle that.” Trying to figure out how to lean across the bed without hurting broken ribs was more than her exhausted brain could handle, but Archer took care of it, sliding next to her and tilting her chin up. Her lip was split in several places, but he remembered, brushing the most gentle of kisses against her mouth.

“Archer?” she whispered when he pulled away from her.

“Hmm?”

“You’re my hero. You know that, right?”

Epilogue

“What do you mean, I’m still married?” Ivy stared in shock at the clerk behind the desk. “Yes, it says right here. I’m sorry, I can’t approve your marriage license.”

“But we’re getting married in three weeks,” Archer stuttered.

“Are you sure? My divorce was supposed to be final almost a year ago.”

“Well, if you can bring me the final papers we can get this all straightened out,” the clerk said, trying her best to be helpful.

Ivy blinked at her. “Papers?”

“Yes, you should have received official papers…” Ivy thought hard. She’d gotten a lot of papers after Vick had been arrested. She’d had a massive concussion… she hadn’t
looked
at all of them.

“Here’s the thing, ma’am,” Archer said, moving to stand protectively between Ivy and the woman without even realizing it. Ivy smiled. Always her hero. “Her ex-husband is in jail. He’s not getting out for a long time. Is there a judge or someone who can push this through?” The woman frowned, peering around Archer at Ivy, who tried her best to look helpless and pathetic. It was pretty easy, given that she was, in fact, small and pathetic. “I’ll see what I can do.”

****

Three weeks later

“Did you get the marriage license, or is this a pretend wedding we’re about to have?” Austin asked.

Archer smirked at him. “We got it. Yesterday. Divorce was final three days ago.” He finished tying his shoe and stood up, straightening his tux.

“Good thing. It’s time to get out there,” his brother said, appearing in the doorway.

“You nervous?” Austin asked.

“Nope. Never been more sure of a decision in my life.”

Archer stood in front of all their friends and family, watching as his brothers escorted Ivy’s bridesmaids down the aisle, waiting, barely breathing, trying not to look like he might pass out if she didn’t appear soon.

The music changed, everyone stood, and Ivy appeared at the head of the aisle like a vision. Her dress was black and white, and he could just see her six inch bright red heels peeking out every time she took a step. She was beautiful. She floated like an angel, when .... Jack pitched forward, his foot caught in the layers of Ivy’s dress. He swore as Ivy held tightly to the arm she already had her hand on, pulling him steady before he could fall. The room erupted in howling laughter. Bev, sitting on the front row, dropped her head into her hands, but her shoulders shook.

They made it to the front of the room and Jack handed her over, giving her one last, long hug. As Archer took her hand in his, he didn’t think another coherent thought until the cleric asked them to read their vows.

She started to speak, her voice soft and lilting. She’d written her vows herself, and Archer could hear more than a few quiet sobs from the audience. “I had no hope, and you brought it back into my life. I had no faith, but you believed. Everything was gray, and it was cold, and I didn’t want to smile anymore. Because of you, I found my smile. When it seemed that the sun was gone for good, you moved the clouds for me.”

Archer had to fight hard not to join those in the audience who were crying. When it was his turn to read his vows, he had to clear his throat three times before he could speak. Ivy giggled, fighting to keep a straight face.

“I promise three things to you. I promise to always put one hundred ten percent of my effort into being the best husband for you. I promise to be patient and to be the best dad I can be for Desee and for the rest of our kids.” Ivy’s eyebrow raised and he had to fight not to chuckle. “And lastly I promise to do the easiest, most comfortable thing in the world. I promise to love you more every day.”

About the Author:

W.B. Kinnette
lives in Utah with her husband and three adorable children. She’s loved writing since she was small, because daydreams demand to be written down. She believes that dreams must be chased, if only so she can tell her children honestly that dreams do come true if you work hard enough – and never give up!

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