Page 60 of A Texas Hero

“Wait until you taste this,” Archer said. “I’m not kidding, somehow everything tastes better when it’s cooked outside.”

“Should I get plates and cutlery?”

“Nope, already did.”

“You have definitely prepared for this, and I am truly surprised.” She took a seat on one of the folded lawn chairs he’d placed in front of the tent. “Thank you.”

“I felt bad about canceling your event,” Archer said, turning a steak. “It isn’t fair that your father’s problem became your own.”

“If only y’all had told me the truth instead of blaming it on poor Scott—”

“You would have gotten on board?” Archer gave her a quirk of the eyebrow suggesting he didn’t buy it.

“Well, maybe not, but it would have made more sense to me.”

“What about Scott? Is he texting or bothering you anymore?”

“Not since your very direct message on my behalf.”

“I had a feeling that might work.”

“And I suppose I should thank you for that,” Zoey said, leaning toward the fire. “I never would have been so blunt, but I see now where sometimes it’s necessary to get the message across. I’ve never been good at that.”

“I’ll tell you what—you continue to be kind and leave me to be the ass on your behalf. I can pull it off far more easily than you ever could.”

“Yes, but…you won’t always be around, will you?”

“That’s true, but let’s not think about that tonight.”

When the steaks were ready, they ate them from their plates right on the ground, on which he’d laid a large plaid blanket. Granted, she had a patio table on the deck they could drag over, but this was roughing it and she wouldn’t complain. The steak tasted charbroiled, almost as good as what she’d order in a restaurant. Archer had also boiled some potatoes and vegetables, which would normally taste bland to her. But damn, he was right, everything tasted better outside. Such a mystery!

“So tell me, Archer. You and your family did this all the time? How often did you and your family go camping?”

“Just about every summer. Naturally, my sisters would complain about not having running water and facilities. I loved it, though. As a kid, I probably spent half my life outside, taking every dare I ever got. I broke my leg once.” He moved his prosthesis. “I suppose I should say twice. Once, rather more permanently.”

They hadn’t talked about this. For all practical purposes, Archer was a man without anything notably missing. He certainly no longer had a hitch in his step, but they both knew the truth. Because of an accident, his life would never be the same. For someone who’d lost so much, Zoey remained impressed with how little it seemed to matter to him. She assumed, however, that was a front for his real thoughts and fears.

“Does it hurt?” Zoey whispered.

“Nah. It took some getting used to, but it’s been months now. The only issue was just before I got here, I’d been given a newer model. It took some adjusting. Funny how I can trade in my old foot for a new one. Kind of like a car. More bells and whistles.”

“You deserve the best,” Zoey said, scooting closer to him. “Like the Cadillac or Rolls-Royce of prosthetics.”

He chuckled and their shoulders touched, leaning into each other. “Pretty sure I have it.”

When the flickering flames died back to red glowing embers, Archer reached for the bag of marshmallows. He had her dialed. This time Zoey ate far too many and may have had a sugar high because she kept reaching for Archer’s lips to clear off something that wasn’t actually there. If he questioned it, he said nothing.

“My parents never took me camping. I don’t know why. It just seems like the seminal American vacation and I missed out on it. I never had the s’mores and campfires and ghost stories.”

“But you got to see other things instead.”

“True, and I’m not complaining. I’ve had a privileged life and I accept that. But I never asked for this. I just happened to wind up in this family with a famous athlete for a dad. He gave us everything he could, even if sometimes he failed to give us more of himself.”

“He was gone a lot, I take it?”

“Yeah. It was far from ideal. We were the pretty picture to the public—Patch Lambert, his wife and daughter. With the bigger games, we were always there for the photo ops. Super Bowl wins and parties, those were the high times. No photo ops of the times my father was sidelined with an injury, miserable and angry. My mother handled it well, even if looking back, it was almost like she was a single parent during football season. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. We had so much of everything, but sometimes it’s the small things that matter the most. Having a father home to tuck you in every night, tell you a bedtime story, just be there. My mother did all that for me. No wonder we were so close.”

“In our family, my mother never let my father off the hook. Of course, he didn’t travel, though I bet there were times he would have liked to get away from us all for a week or two. When he got home every night it was his job to give the younger kids baths and tuck them into bed after dinner. He wasn’t allowed to say he was tired from working all day, commuting home from the city. She’d say, ‘And what do you think I have been doing all day? Eating chocolate bonbons?’” He laughed. “I grew up in an equal opportunity household, and that’s how it’s going to be when I have a wife and children. It’s only fair.”