So she summarily dumped the packets into his hands. “I just have another box of handouts to grab.” She frowned when he set the packets on the small table, as well.
There wasn’t a single trace of amusement in his deep green gaze. Not a hint of a dimple in his lean cheeks.
“What’s wrong?”
He pulled a thin envelope from his back pocket.
There was no postage stamp on the corner and she recognized the seal on the front of it and felt her nerves pinch. “Have you become an official deliveryman now for the bar association?”
“They knew I was seeing you. Instead of making you wait for it to come by mail...” He held it out but when she went to reach for it, he tipped it out of her grasp. “I know you don’t want to wait to see what it says, but there’s something I need to—” He broke off and cleared his throat. “Just...just wait a minute before you decide to open it up.”
She frowned even harder and her alarm grew. It was rare to see him looking so... She didn’t even have a word for it. Uncomfortable wasn’t quite right. Neither was uncertain.
“Why?”
“Because I...well, hell.” He turned to the stuff on the table and sent the stack of packets careening onto the floor. He muttered an oath and if she weren’t mistaken, a dusky tide of color was rising up his throat as he tried and failed to catch them.
She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, because as alarmed as she was feeling inside, it was seriously, seriously gratifying to see him have to fumble. Just once. Just a little.
She set down her briefcase and crouched next to him, gathering up the thick packets. Some had even landed outside the open door. She leaned on her hand and reached past him to get them, then sat back on her heels and dropped them onto the untidy pile he’d managed to gather. “Want to tell me what’s going on here or should I start making guesses?”
“You wouldn’t guess this.” He dumped the packets back onto the table, then straightened and took her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Maybe you should sit.”
Her mouth went dry. “Is Vivian all right?” His grandmother had returned from Philadelphia the week before without offering any explanations for her abrupt trip. Nell could only assume she’d been seeing doctors despite Delia’s claim otherwise.
His brows jerked together. “Yeah. Yeah. She’s fine.”
Nell sank down on the edge of the couch. She’d bought it from Classic Charms. It was secondhand, but it was a pretty shade of blue and comfortable to boot. “Then what?”
“Martin’s facing federal charges on bribery and extortion,” he said abruptly. Bluntly. “He was arrested early this morning.”
Her jaw dropped.
Archer crouched in front of her, his hands clasping hers. “He might not pay the price for anything else, but he’s going to pay the price for this.”
“But how...what?” She could hardly comprehend it. “Does Ros know? Have you talked to Meredith?”
“Yes. And yes. I saw Ros for a few minutes before I started heading up here. Needless to say, the law firm’s going to be picked apart before long. Investigations like that tend to spawn more. She’s pretty shaken up.”
Nell’s eyes dampened. “I can imagine. I hope Jonathan is with her.”
He made a face. “I think they already split up a while ago. Meredith and my dad are on their way to Cheyenne. I don’t know if Ros will be all that ready to see them, but they’re going to try.”
Her eyes flooded with more tears. “I can’t believe it.” She swiped her cheek. “Where’s the letter you brought for me?”
He took it back out of his pocket and set it beside her on the couch. “There’s more.”
“I’m not sure my nerves can handle more.” She picked up the envelope and slid her finger beneath the sealed flap.
“What about your heart?”
She stared. “What?”
His throat had that dusky color again. “This is one of those when-it-rains-it-pours times.” He got up again and went back to the table by the door, fumbling through the mess until he pulled out another envelope.
This one was thicker. Larger. And when he handed it to her, she could immediately feel that it contained a book.
“I should have given it to you a long time ago.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair, looking oddly embarrassed. “I planned to. But things didn’t turn out the way I thought they would, and—”
“Archer, what on earth are you talking about?”
“Just open it.”
Her heart was suddenly chugging inside her chest, pushing up into her throat. She pulled open the flap and tipped the book out onto her lap.
The dust jacket was glossy. In perfect condition except for the small tear in one corner.
She traced a shaking finger over the fat little penguin on the cover. “Monty Meets Mary,” she whispered. Her mother’s tenth book. The only one she had never been able to find.
A tear splashed on the cover and she slowly wiped it away.
“It was in a used-book store in Montana. Total coincidence that I found it.” He shrugged, still looking uncomfortable. Uncertain. “I’d gotten in the habit of always looking for one of her books whenever I saw a used-book store. I was going to give it to you when you passed the bar. When I—”
“That long?” She swiped her cheeks. “You’ve had it that long? Why didn’t you—” She broke off, because it didn’t matter how long he’d had it. “It doesn’t matter.” She pressed the book to her heart. “Thank you.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” He crouched in front of her again and took her hand and her heart lurched all over again at the realization that his hand wasn’t entirely steady. “What I was saying was that I was going to give it to you when I asked you to marry me.”
She went still. Her eyes felt trapped in his gaze.
He slowly reached out to draw a curl away
