Archer's Voice (8 page)

Bree

A few days after Archer Hale waved to me in the grocery store parking lot, I worked the early shift at the diner and when I got home that afternoon, I saw that Anne was sitting on her front porch. I walked over and greeted her and she smiled saying, "Iced tea, dear?"

I unlatched her gate and walked through it and up her steps. "That sounds great. If you can stand the smell of me– eue de griddle and bacon fat."

She laughed. "I think I can manage. How was your shift?"

I collapsed on her porch swing, leaning back and shifting my body toward the small fan she had running next to her. I sighed with comfort.

"Good," I answered. "I like the job."

"Oh, that's good," she said, handing me the glass of tea she had just poured. I took a grateful sip and then leaned back again.

"I saw you being picked up by the Scholl girls the other night and I was so happy to see you've met some friends. I hope you don't mind having such a nosy neighbor." She smiled kindly and I smiled back at her.

"No, not at all. Yes, I went over to the other side of the lake with them.
We ran into Travis Hale and hung out with him at The Bitter End."

"
Oh, you've been meeting all the Hale boys."

I laughed. "Yes, are there more?"

She smiled. "No, just Archer and Travis among the younger generation. Suppose Travis is really the only chance of another Hale generation now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, I don't see Archer Hale coming off his property to date much, much less marry someone, but again, I don't know too much about him other than that he doesn't speak."

"He does speak," I said. "I've talked to him."

Anne looked surprised and tilted her head slightly. "Well, I had no idea. I've never heard him say a word."

I shook my head. "He signs," I said. "And so do I. My dad was deaf."

"Oh, I see. Well, I never even thought of that. I guess he presents himself as someone who doesn't want much to do with anyone else, at least the few times I've seen him in town." She frowned slightly.

"I don't think anyone has ever really tried," I said, shrugging. "There's nothing wrong with him
, though, except maybe his people skills, and that he can't speak," I said, looking over her shoulder, picturing Archer. "And a few fashion issues." I grinned.

She smiled back. "Yes, he does have an interesting look to him, doesn't he? Of course, I imagine
if you cleaned him up, he'd look more than presentable. He comes from a long line of lookers. Actually, all the Hale boys were so good looking, they were practically in-human." She laughed girlishly and I grinned at her.

I took a long drink of tea and tilted my head to the side. "You don't remember
exactly what happened with the other two brothers the day of Archer's accident?"

She shook her head. "No, only what I heard in town.
I don't know what happened between them to cause all that tragedy. I try to remember them as they were–how every girl in a hundred mile radius swooned over them. Course those boys took advantage of that, even Connor who was the less rowdy of the three. But as far as I remember, the only girl any of them ever took a real interest in was Alyssa McRae."

"All
three
of them?" I asked, my eyes widening.
This
sounded like a story.

"Hmm," she said, looking off into the distance. "It was a right soap opera around here with them, mostly between Connor and Marcus Hale. Those two boys were always competing over something. If it wasn't sports, it was girls, and when Alyssa came to town, there was on
ly one girl they competed over. Nathan Hale didn't make any bones about the fact that he was interested, too, but the other two didn't pay too much mind to him, I suppose. Like I said before, he was always a little different."

"Who finally won her?" I whispered.

Anne blinked and looked at me, smiling. "Marcus Hale. She married him–shotgun wedding we called it back then. She was in the family way. But she lost that baby and it wasn't until years later that she got pregnant again, with Archer." She shook her head. "After she married Marcus, that girl always looked sad, and so did Connor Hale. I always thought they both felt that she made the wrong choice. Of course, with all the drinking and womanizing Marcus Hale still did, even after he and Alyssa got married, the whole town pretty much knew she made the wrong choice."

"And then Connor Hale becam
e the Chief of Police?"

"Y
es, yes he did. Got married too, trying to move on as well I suppose. And he had Travis."

"Wow. And then it all en
ded in so much tragedy."

"Yes, yes… very sad." She looked at me. "But, dear, you being able to speak to Archer, well
, I think that's wonderful." She shook her head slightly. "Makes me realize how little we all did for that boy." She looked sad and lost in thought.

We both sat quietly for a couple minutes, sipping our tea before I said, "I better go shower and change. I'm going to
bike down to the lake again today."

"Oh good. I'm so glad the bike is working out for you. Get as much lake time in as you can. The weather will be turning soon."

I smiled, standing. "I will. Thank you, Anne. And thank you for the chat."

"Thank you, dear. You bring a smile to an old woman's face."

I grinned at her and waved as I walked down her steps and through her gate.

********** 

An hour later, I was biking down Briar Road, my basket holding a water bottle, my towel, and my sweet, naughty little dog.

As I rode past Archer's house, I
stopped my bike, dragging my feet in the dust. His gate was open slightly. I stared at it, stopping completely. I hadn't seen a mail truck driving back down the road. Had Archer left it open himself? I tilted my head, considering the situation. I brought one finger up and tapped my lips, thinking. Would it be totally uncool to go onto his property uninvited again? Or had he left the gate open slightly
as
an invitation? Was that completely ludicrous for me to even think? Probably.

I wheeled my bike forward and leaned it against the high fence,
picking Phoebe up and peeking my head inside the open gate, just intending on having a quick look. Archer was walking away, toward his house, but when he heard the squeak of his gate, he turned, his eyes on me, no surprise in them.

I stepped inside.
Hi
, I said, putting Phoebe down and signing.
I'm really hoping that your open gate meant that you were okay with me coming in, and that I didn't just trespass again. That would be embarrassing.
I grimaced, bringing my hands to my cheeks and holding my breath for his answer.

His deep
, amber eyes watched me for a few seconds as color moved up my face, and something gentled in his expression.

He was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they were about to disintegrate, they had so many holes in them, a fitted white t-shirt–
too fitted
–and bare feet.

I wanted to show you something
, he said.

I let out my breath and I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face.
But then I cocked my head to the side, confused.
You knew I was coming?

He shook his head slowly.
I thought you might. I see the bike tracks.

My face flushed again. "Oh," I breathed out, not signing. "Um…"

Do you want to see, or not?

I
just looked at him for a second and then nodded.
Okay
.
Wait, where's your axe?

He raised one eyebrow,
studying me for a couple beats.
Is that you being funny?

I laughed
, feeling delight in the fact that he had brought up our last conversation.
Touché.
I grinned.
What do you want to show me?

They're right over here
.

They?
I asked, walking forward with him, down the driveway, through the trees.

He nodded, but didn't expound.

Phoebe saw a bird take flight across the lawn and went running after it as fast as her short legs could carry her.

We reached his little house and took
a few steps down the small porch, only big enough for the white rocker and small storage box it held.

He moved the rocker aside and I gasped.

Oh my God!
I said, sucking in a breath and moving forward.

That sound you said you heard
a few days ago? That was Kitty here giving birth
.

I grinned as I looked down at the sleeping mama dog, three tiny, brown puppies, rooting lazily at
her belly, clearly having just eaten and falling into a milk coma. But then my brows furrowed when I processed what he had just said and I looked over at him.
Your dog is named Kitty?

He moved his hair out of his face slightly
, looking at me.
Long story. My uncle confided in me that the animals on our property are spies who worked for him, and he named them accordingly. Her full name is Kitty Storms. She was trained by the Russian Foreign Intelligence Agency. She works for me now.

Uh oh, this wasn't good.
I see
, I said.
And you believe this?
I eyed him warily.

Well, her operations are mostly kept to squirrel tracking and apparently
, he gestured to where she slept with the puppies,
covert meetings with fertile male subjects
. Something that looked like it might be amusement danced in his eyes.

I breathed out a laugh and then shook my head.
So, your uncle was a little…

Paranoid
, he said.
But harmless. He was a good guy
. I thought I saw a brief flash of pain wash over his features before he turned his head to the puppies again.

I touched Archer's arm and he jolted and turned to me.
I heard your uncle passed away a few years ago. I'm sorry.

He looked down at me, his eyes sweeping over my face. He nodded, barely perceptible and turned back to the puppies once again.

I studied his profile for a few seconds, noting how nice it was, at least what of it I could see. Then I bent down to get a closer look at the puppies.

I grinned back up at Archer who squatted down next to me.
Can I hold one?
I asked.

He nodded.

Are they boys or girls?

Two boys, one girl
.

I scooped up one little warm, soft body and brought it to my chest, cradling its sleeping weight and nuzzling my nose into the soft fur. The puppy mewled and started rooting at my cheek, its wet nose making me giggle.

I looked at Archer who was watching me closely, a small smile on his lips. It was the first one I had gotten and it startled me slightly. I stared at him, our eyes meeting and tangling just like the first time we had met. I felt confused as everything inside me sped up. I stared at him, rubbing my cheek absently against the velvety softness of the puppy's fat belly.

After a minute, I put the puppy down so I could sign,
Thank you for showing them to–

He reached out and stop
ped my hands, looking into my eyes. I looked at him questioningly and then moved my eyes down to his large hand resting on mine. He had beautiful hands, powerful, but elegant at the same time. I looked back up at him.

He brought both hands up and said,
You can speak the old-fashioned way. I can hear you, remember?

I blinked at him and after a few seconds brought my hands up.
If it's okay with you, I'd like to speak your language.
I smiled a small smile.

He stared at me, an unreadable expression in
his eyes before he stood up.

I have to get back to work
, he said.

Work?
I asked.

He nodded at me, but chose not to elaborate. Well, okay, then.

Then I guess I should go?

He just looked at me.

Can I come back?
I asked.
To see the puppies?

He frowned at me for a second, but then nodded, yes.

I breathed out.
Okay. If your gate is open, I'll know it's okay to come in.

He nodded again, a smaller nod this time, barely noticeable.

We stared at each other for a few more seconds before I smiled and turned around and walked back up his driveway. I called to Phoebe who came running this time and scooped her up. I turned around at his gate and he was still standing in the same place, watching me. I waved a small wave and closed his gate behind me.