Archer's Voice (32 page)

A couple burst out onto the balcony, laughing as the man groped at the woman and she teasingly pushed him away from her before pulling him
in for a kiss.

I looked away, my heart squeezing at the sight of the intimacy between them.
Please come back to me,
I said in my mind.

I walked toward the door, moving around the couple
and leaving them to their privacy, and entered the house again. Once I was back in the hallway, I stood still and took another deep breath before moving toward the ballroom. I startled as I felt a hand on my arm, my breath caught, and I turned slowly. There was a tall, good-looking man with jet black hair and beautiful, deep blue eyes standing just behind me. His eyes were trained on me. "Dance?" he said simply, and then held out his hand as if my yes was a foregone conclusion.

"Um, okay," I said
softly, releasing my breath and taking his hand.

The man
led me onto the dance floor and stopped in the middle, pulling me in to him. "What's your name?" he whispered into my ear, his deep voice like silk.

I leaned back sli
ghtly, looking up into his blue eyes. "Bree Prescott."

"
Nice to meet you, Bree Prescott. I'm Gage Buchanan."

I leane
d back. "Oh, this is your house! Thank you for having me. I'm Liza and Melanie Scholl's friend. Your house is so beautiful."

Gage
smiled and then turned me effortlessly, moving his body fluidly to the music. He was easy to follow, even though admittedly I wasn't a very good dancer.

"And w
hy is it I haven't met you before tonight? I find it hard to believe a girl as beautiful as you hasn't been the talk of the town. I would have made it a point." He winked.

I laughed, leaning back slightly. "I l
ive in Pelion," I said. "Perhaps–" I stopped talking abruptly as the loud chatter going on around us seemed to cease, the conversation now just a low murmur moving through the crowd, the music, "In My Veins," seeming to rise in volume as the voices around us died. Gage stopped moving and so did I as we looked around, confused.

And that's when I saw
him. Standing on the edge of the dance floor, those gorgeous whiskey-colored eyes trained on me, his expression unreadable.

My heart flew into my throat and
I drew in a loud gasp and brought my hands to my mouth, pure happiness filling every cell in my body. He looked like a god standing there, somehow taller, bigger, seeming to have an authority he didn't have before, but still that beautiful gentleness in his eyes. I blinked, mesmerized. His dark hair was longer, curling up over his collar, and he was wearing a black suit and tie and a light colored dress shirt. His shoulders seemed even broader, his frame larger, his beauty more intense. I drank him in, my heart beating triple time.

I vaguely noted that people were watching us as I took a step toward him
and he moved toward me, like magnets being drawn together by the force of something neither one of us controlled. I heard an older woman in the crowd mutter, "He's the spitting image of Connor Hale, isn't he?" her voice soft, dreamy.

The people on the
dance floor moved aside to make way for him and I stood waiting now. The lights twinkled around me and the music swelled as Archer made it to me on the dance floor and looked somewhere just to my right.

I felt a hand on my arm and when I
tore my eyes from Archer and looked up, Gage, whom I had forgotten was there, smiled and leaned in, whispering, "It's suddenly become obvious to me that you're already taken. Nice meeting you, Bree Prescott."

I let out a breath and smiled
back at him. "Nice meeting you too, Gage." It seemed Gage Buchanan was a nicer guy than Liza and Melanie gave him credit for. He nodded at Archer and moved off, disappearing into the crowd.

I looked back up at Archer
and for several moments, we did nothing but gaze at each other before I brought my hands up and signed,
You're here,
tears springing into my eyes, joy enveloping me.

He let out a
breath, warmth filling his expression as he brought his own hands up.
I'm here for you,
he said. And that's when his face broke into the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen in my life and I launched myself into his arms, crying and gasping against the crook of his neck, holding on tight, holding on for dear life to the man I loved.

Archer

I held her close, inhaling the beautiful smell of her, my heart exalting at the sweet relief of the weight of her in my arms. My Bree. I'd missed her so desperately I'd thought I'd die without her those first few weeks. But I hadn't died. I had so much to tell her, so much to share with her.

I leaned back, looking d
own into her emerald eyes, the golden flecks that I loved so much even brighter under her shimmering tears. She was stunning. And I hoped to God that she was still mine.

I don't really know how to dance,
I said, unable to tear my eyes from her.

She breathed out on a small smile.
I'm not very good at it either
.

I took her in my arms anyway and held her against my body as we started to sway to the music. We'd figure it out.

I ran my hand down the bare skin of her back and she shivered in my arms. We both watched as I used my other hand to entwine my fingers with hers, my eyes moving quickly to her face. She swallowed and her lips parted as she met my gaze.

I pulled her closer and press
ed her body into mine feeling serenity wash over me.

When the song ended, we both stood back and Bree asked,
Is this real?

I smiled at her.
I don't know. I think so. But it feels like a dream.

She breathed out a small laugh and looked down, then back up at me.
How'd you know I was here?

I went to your house,
I signed.
Anne saw me and told me where you were.

She reached up and put her hand on my cheek as if she was checking to make sure I was real
ly there, and I closed my eyes and leaned in to her. After a second, she brought her hand down and signed to me,
Where have you been, Archer? What have you been–

I put my hands around hers,
stopping her words, and she blinked up at me in surprise. I let go of her and brought my hands up.
I have so much to tell you, so much we have to talk about.

Do you still love me?
she asked and her vulnerable eyes blinked up at me again, fresh tears filling them. Her whole heart was right there in her expression and I loved her so desperately, I felt it in the marrow of my bones.

I'll never stop loving you, Bree
, I said, hoping she could see in my eyes that I meant it in my very soul, in the very fabric of who I was.

She studied my face for a few seconds
, and then she looked down for a few beats before her eyes came up and she focused on my chest as she said
, You left me
.

I had to,
I answered.

Her eyes ran over my face, studying me intently.
Take me home, Archer,
she said and I didn't need to be asked twice. I took her by her hand and started moving through the crowd I had forgotten was there.

When we stepped out into the chilly night air, Bree said, "Wait, Melanie and Liza–"

They saw me,
I signed,
they'll know you left with me.

She nodded.

The valet brought my truck around, looking completely out of place amongst the BMW's and Audi's. That was okay. I had Bree Prescott on my arm, and I intended to keep her there.

I grinned at her as I started up the truck. Just as I was pulling away, it backfired, making the people standing around us jump and scream, one woman in a mink stole hitting the ground. They must have thought someone
opened fire. I grimaced and waved my hand at them in apology.

As we drove away, I glanced at Bree who was biting her lip and obviously trying to hold back laughter. She glanced at me and I glanced at her
, and then we both looked straight. After a couple seconds she glanced at me again and threw her head back and started laughing wildly. My eyes widened and then I couldn't help it, I cracked up too, grinning and laughing along with her, while simultaneously trying to keep my eyes on the road.

She laughed so hard
tears were rolling down her cheeks, and I was gripping my chest, trying to get control of the hilarity that seemed to have taken us over.

After several seconds,
I glanced over and her face suddenly went from hilarity to crumbling into a bout of tears. My laughter died and I glanced at her nervously, wondering what the hell had just happened.

I put my hand on her leg and she swiped it away, crying harder
, looking as if she was having trouble catching her breath. Panic coursed through me. What was happening here? I didn't know what to do.

"You w
ere gone for three months, Archer. Three months!" she choked out, her voice fading on the last word. "You didn't write. You didn't bring your phone. I didn't know if you were even alive. I didn't know if you were warm. I didn't know how you were communicating with those you needed to communicate with." She let out another sob.

I glanced at her and
pulled the car off the road, onto a small dirt patch next to the bank of a river. I turned to Bree just as she opened my truck door and jumped out, walking quickly along the side of the road in her little, black dress. What the hell was she doing? I jumped out too and jogged to catch up, gravel crunching beneath my feet as Bree wobbled ahead of me on her high heels.

The moon, large and full above us, lit the night so that I could see her clearly in front of me.

When I finally made it to her, I grabbed her arm and she stopped and spun around, tears still coursing down her cheeks.
Don't run from me,
I said.
I can't call to you. Please don't run from me.

"You ran from
me
!" she said. "You ran from me, and I died a little more each day! You didn't even let me know that you were safe! Why?"

H
er voice broke on the last word and I felt my heart clench in my chest.
I couldn't, Bree. If I had written to you, or contacted you, I wouldn't have been able to stay away. And I had to stay away, Bree. I had to. You're my safety, and I had to do this without feeling safe. I had to.

She
stood there silently for several minutes, her eyes on my still hands, not looking up into my face. We were both shivering, our breath coming out in white puffs.

I suddenly understood. Bree had been holding
in the emotion of my absence for three long months, and my return had opened the floodgates. I knew what it felt like when emotion bubbling to the surface made you feel sick, out of control–I knew better than anyone. It's why I had gone away. But now, I was back. And now it was my turn to be strong for Bree. Now, I was finally able.

Come back to the truck. Please. Let me get you warm and then we'll talk.

"Were there other women?"

I shook my head and breathed out, looking down at my feet, then back up at her.
I leaned in and "spoke" with my hands right against her body, looking into her eyes as she glanced between my face and my hands.
There has only ever been you. There. Will. Only. Ever. Be. You.

She closed her eyes and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks
. She opened them and we both stood there silently, our breath dissipating as it rose into the sky.

"I thought," she shook her head slowly, "I thought maybe you figured out that you were lonely," she heaved in a big breath, "and that you would have fallen in love with any girl who walke
d down your driveway that day–that maybe you needed to find out." She looked down.

I took her chin in my fingers and tilted her face back up to me
. I brought my hand down and said,
There's nothing to find out. What I
know
, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl–because it was
you
. I lost my heart to
you
. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

She closed her eyes again and then opened them and I saw her body relax.

"What were you doing?" she finally asked quietly, hugging herself with her bare arms.

Please let me get you warm,
I repeated, holding out my hand to her.

She didn't say anything, but she
took my hand and we walked back to my truck together. When we reached it, I helped her up and then walked around to my side and climbed in as well, turning to her.

I
looked out the window behind her for a second, thinking of all the things I'd done in the last three months, answering the question she had asked me outside.
I went to restaurants, coffee shops… I went to the movies once.
I smiled a small smile and her eyes flew to my face.

She blinked at me, her tears drying up.
"You did?" she whispered. I nodded.

Her eyes searched my face for several seconds before she asked. "What'd you see?"

Thor,
I spelled out.

She laughed softly
and the sound was like music to my ears. "Did you like it?"

I loved it. I sat through it twice. I even ordered popcorn and a drink, even though there was a line of people behind me.

"How'd you do it?" She looked at me with wide eyes.

I had to point and gesture a little, but the kid got it. He was nice.
I paused for a minute.
I had this realization about a month after I'd been gone. Whenever I went somewhere and had to communicate with someone, and they'd see my scar and understand why I was gesturing, they each had a different reaction. Some people were awkward, uncomfortable, others were kind, helpful, and there were even some that were impatient and put-out.
Bree's eyes softened and she was listening to me raptly.

I realiz
ed that people's reactions had more to do with them, more to do with who they were, than anything about me. It was like a bolt of lightening hit me, Bree.

Tears sprung to her eyes again and she reached out and touched my leg, just laying her hand on me.

She nodded. "It was like that with my dad too. What else?" she asked.

I got a job,
I smiled and a look of surprise came over her face. I nodded.
Yeah, I stopped in this small town in New York state and I saw an ad about needing guys to unload delivery trucks at the airport. I wrote a letter about my situation, explaining that I could hear and understand directions and that I was a hard worker, but that I couldn't speak. I handed it to the guy in person and he read it and hired me on the spot.
I grinned with the memory of the pride I had felt in that moment.

It was boring work, but I got t
o know another guy there, Luis, and he spoke incessantly, telling me his life story while we worked. How he had come over from Mexico without knowing the language at all, how he still struggled to support his family, but that they were happy, they had each other. He talked a lot. I got the impression that no one had ever just listened to him.
I smiled with the memory of my first real friend other than Bree.

He
invited me to his home for Christmas dinner and his little girl learned a few signs before I got there, and I taught her a few more.
I smiled, thinking of little Claudia.
She asked me the sign for love and I spelled out your name.

Bree let out small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "So now she's going to go around saying, 'I Bree
you?'" she asked, smiling softly.

I nodded.
Yeah.
I turned toward her more fully, focusing on her face.
I stand by my logic though. I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them. My word for love is Bree.

We stared at each other for several beats, me drinking in her beauty, her sweet compassion. I had known that about her before, but not to the extent I did now.

Finally, she asked me, "What made you decide it was time to come home?"

I looked at her for a couple seconds, considering her question.
I was sitting in this small coffee shop a couple days ago and I saw this old man sitting at a table across from me. He looked so lonely, so sad. I was too, but it suddenly occurred to me that some people go through their whole lives never being loved or loving as deeply as I love you. There's always going to be the chance that I could lose you in this lifetime. There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss. But in that moment, I decided that I was more interested in focusing on the great privilege I've been given in having you at all.

Tears shimmered in her eyes again as she whispered, "And what if I hadn't been here
when you got back?"

Then I would have come for you. I would have fought for you. But don't you see, I had to fight for myself first. I had to feel like I was someone worthy of winning you
.