Page 49 of A Texas Hero

“Yes, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I can use the wood you have piled outside,” he offered.

“The decorations, you mean?”

“Don’t tell me they’re not real.”

“Oh, no, they are. They give the house a woodsy feel, but I never thought of actually burning them.”

“Well, I could hack down your furniture, but I don’t think we need to go that far.” He hooked a thumb to the decorated porch in front. “I’ll go get the wood.”

Zoey helped, and together they carried several logs inside. If she was worried about her father, he assumed she might not share that with him. The fewer questions she asked him, the better. At least the real danger was faraway and would never come close to touching Zoey.

The fire—nutty though the idea was—could be a good distraction, and he’d indulge her.

“Fortunately for you, I grew up in Connecticut,” Archer said. “I’m going to need some kindling and some paper. And a match.”

“Absolutely!” She turned to him with a big smile. “Now, what is kindling?”

Archer laughed. “I’ll see what I can find.”

He went into the back garden and gathered a few twigs by the oak tree that would work. Zoey’s face brightened when he walked inside. She held a box of matches and some paper.

“I bet fall is lovely in Connecticut.”

“Sure is, but I prefer Texas weather myself.”

“You say that because you didn’t grow up here. Texas is great, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t have many chances to wear my sweaters and boots except when I visit Amarillo in February.”

This gave new meaning to fashion: going somewhere where the weather suited your clothes. No doubt about it, Zoey made him smile. He’d never seen anyone so enthusiastic about a season.

“If sweater and boot weather is what you’d like, I’ll have to take you with me to Connecticut. Preferably in winter. But you’re also going to need a parka.”

Damn, that had just slipped out. He hadn’t mean to make such assumptions. When this job was over, he’d likely never see Zoey again.

“I’d like that.”

As usual, Zoey was being kind, especially since he was about to make her dreams come true.

“You say that now, but wait until you’re housebound for days because it’s below zero and we’re expecting a nor’easter.”

“I imagine people can find fun things to do while indoors, too.” She nudged him playfully.

“You would be right about that. Nine months later, there are plenty of bambinos born.”

Archer angled logs of wood strategically and placed crunched up pieces of paper between them, then struck the match. The flame immediately caught but didn’t spread, so he blew air on it to get it going. Within a couple of minutes, they had their roaring fire. Of course, this meant that they were both feeling a little too warm, even with the air conditioner on. He took a step back from the wall of heat. Zoey did, too, but their timing was off so they bumped into each other, both chuckling.

“Too hot for you?” he said, hand on her waist to steady her.

“No comment,” she said with a smile. “But I love the aesthetic.”

“Wait a little while and you’ll have embers for your roasted marshmallows.” Somehow, he now had his arm low on her back with no desire to move it.

Then she turned to him and reached up to ruffle his hair. “You’re a regular Boy Scout. Thank you for the fire.”

“Though I question your methods, you have a point. It probably never gets cold enough in this part of Texas. I suppose sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.”

He lowered his arm from her waist, then reached to loosen his tie. As a rule, for work, he always wore slacks, a button-down and tie. But more often than not, he rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. At the moment, rolled-up sleeves weren’t enough for this heat and he wanted to rip his shirt off. But he wouldn’t breach decorum with Zoey nearby.