Текст книги "Archer's Voice"

Автор книги: Mia Sheridan

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

CHAPTER 3

Bree

The sky was just beginning to dim when I drove into Pelion, a quiet, almost old-fashioned, little downtown area. Most of the businesses looked to be family, or individual-owned, and large trees lined the wide sidewalks where people still strolled in the cooler, late-summer twilight. I loved this time of day. There was something magical about it, something hopeful, something that said, "You didn't know if you could, but you made it another day, didn't you?"

I spotted Haskell's and pulled into the parking lot to the right of it and pulled into a spot.

I didn't need groceries just yet, but I was in need of a few basic necessities. It was the only reason I'd run out at all. Even though I had slept five hours or so today, I was tired again and ready to settle into bed with a book.

I was in and out of Haskell's in ten minutes, and walking back to my car in the deepening twilight. The streetlights had blinked on in the time I had been in the store, and were casting a dreamy glow over the parking lot. I pulled my purse up on my shoulder and switched the plastic bag from one hand to the other when the bottom of the plastic tore open and my purchases fell to the concrete, several items rolling away, out of my immediate reach. "Crap!" I swore, bending down to pick my stuff up. I opened my large purse and started tossing in the shampoo and conditioner I'd picked up, when I saw someone stopped in my peripheral vision and I startled. I looked up just as a man bent down and put one knee on the asphalt and handed me the bottle of Advil that had rolled away, apparently directly into his path. I stared at him. He was young, and had shaggy, long, slightly wavy, brown hair that was in desperate need of a cut, and facial hair that looked more neglected than purposefully rugged. He might be handsome, but it was hard to make out exactly what his face looked like under the overly-long beard and hair that fell over his forehead and down around his jaw. He was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt that was stretched across his broad chest. The t-shirt had had a message on it at some point, but now was so faded and worn away that it was anyone's guess what it had once said.

I took all of this in in the few brief seconds it took me to reach for his extended hand holding the bottle of pain medication, at which point, our eyes met and seemed to tangle. His were deep and whiskey-colored, framed by long, dark lashes. Beautiful.

As I stared at him, it felt like something moved between us, almost as if I should reach out and try to grab the air surrounding our bodies–like perhaps my hand would come back holding something tangible, something soft and warm. I frowned, confused, but unable to look away as his eyes quickly darted from mine. Who was this strange-looking man and why was I sitting here frozen in front of him? I shook my head slightly and snapped myself back to reality. "Thanks," I said, taking the bottle from his still-outstretched hand. He said nothing, not looking at me again.

"Crap," I quietly swore once more, returning my attention to the items strewn on the ground. My eyes widened when I saw that my box of tampons had opened and several of them were lying on the ground. Kill me now. He picked up a few and handed them to me and I quickly stuffed them in my purse, glancing up at him at the same time he glanced at me, but there was no reaction on his face. Again, his eyes darted away. I felt color rising in my cheeks and tried to make small talk as he handed me a few more tampons and I snatched them and threw them in my purse, suppressing an hysterical giggle.

"Darn plastic bags," I breathed out, fast talking, then taking a deep breath before continuing, a little slower this time. "Not only bad for the environment, but unreliable really." The man handed me an Almond Joy candy bar and a tampon and I took it from him and dropped it into my open purse, groaning inwardly. "I tried to be good about using my own re-usable shopping bags. I even bought really cute ones in fun patterns… paisley, polka dot," I shook my head, stuffing the last tampon on the ground in my purse, "but I was always leaving them in my car, or at home," I shook my head again as the man handed me two more Almond Joy candy bars.

"Thanks," I said. "I think I've got the rest of this." I waved my hand over the four remaining Almond Joy candy bars lying on the ground.

I looked up at him, my cheeks heating again. "They were on sale," I explained. "I wasn't planning on eating these all at once or anything." He didn't look at me as he picked them up himself, but I swore I saw a miniscule lip twitch. I blinked and it was gone. I squinted at him, taking the candy bars from his hand. "I just like to keep chocolate around the house, you know, for a treat once in a while. This here should last me a couple months." I was lying. What I had bought would last me a couple days, if that. I might even eat several of them on the car ride home.

The man stood and so did I, lifting my purse over my shoulder. "Okay, well, thanks for the help, for rescuing me… and my… personal items… my chocolate, and coconut… and almonds…" I laughed a small, embarrassed sound, but then grimaced slightly. "You know, it would really help me out if you would speak and put me out of my misery here." I grinned at him, but immediately went serious as his face fell, his eyes shuttering and a blank look replacing the warmer one I had sworn was there moments before.

He turned and started walking away.

"Hey, wait!" I called, starting to step after him. I stopped myself though, frowning as he moved away from me, his body moving with grace as he started to jog slowly toward the street. The strangest feeling of loss washed over me as he crossed and walked out of sight.

I got in my car and sat there unmoving for a couple minutes, wondering at the odd encounter. When I finally started the engine, I noticed that there was something on my windshield. I went to turn on the spray, when I stopped and leaned forward, looking more closely. Dandelion seeds were scattered across the glass, and as a light breeze blew, the fluffy ends were caught in the moving air and danced delicately off my windshield as they took flight, moving away from me, in the direction the man had gone.

* * *

I woke up early the next morning, got out of bed, and pulled up the shades in my bedroom and stared out at the lake, the morning sun reflecting on it, making it a warm, golden color. A large bird took up flight and I could just make out one singular boat in the water, close to the distant shore. Yeah, I could get used to this.

Phoebe jumped off the bed and came to sit by my feet. "What do you think, girl?" I whispered. She yawned.

I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. "Not this morning," I whispered. "This morning you're okay." I walked slowly toward the shower, relaxing minimally, hope blooming in my chest with each step. But as I turned on the spray, the world around me blinked out and the shower became the sound of rain, beating on the roof. Dread seized me and I froze as a loud clap of thunder pounded in my ears and the feel of cold metal moved across my bare breast. I flinched at the jerkiness of the gun tracing my nipple, the cold making it pebble as the tears flowed faster down my cheeks. Inside my head sounded like the high-pitched shriek of a train screeching to a stop on metal rails. Oh God, Oh God. I held my breath, just waiting for the gun to go off, ice-cold terror flowing through my veins. I tried to think of my dad lying in his own blood in the room beyond, but my own fear was so all-consuming that I couldn't focus on anything else. I began to shake uncontrollably, the rain continuing to beat against the–

A car door slammed outside, snapping me back to the here and now. I was standing in front of the running shower, water puddling on the floor where the curtain was open. Vomit rushed up my throat and I turned just in time to make it to the bowl where I heaved up bile. I sat there gasping and shaking for several minutes, trying to get a hold of my body. The tears threatened to come, but I wouldn't let them. I squeezed my eyes shut and counted backwards from one hundred. When I made it to one, I took another deep breath and stumbled to my feet, grabbing a towel to mop up the growing puddle in front of the open shower.

I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the warm spray, leaning my head back and closing my eyes, trying to relax and come back to the present, trying to get the shaking under control.

"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," I chanted, swallowing down the emotion, the guilt, my body still trembling slightly. I would be okay. I knew that, but it always took a little while to shake the feeling of being back there, in that place, in that moment of utter grief and terror, and then sometimes several hours before the sadness left me, but never completely.

Every morning the flashback came, and every evening I felt stronger again. Each dawn I had hope that this new day would be the one that would set me free, and that I would make it through without having to endure the pain of being chained in grief to the night that would forever separate now from then.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. Looking at myself in the mirror, I thought I looked better than I did most mornings. Despite the fact that the flashbacks hadn't ended here, I had slept well, which I hadn't done much of over the past six months, and felt a sense of contentment that I attributed to the lake outside my window. What was more peaceful than the sound of water lapping gently on a sandy shore? Surely some of that would seep into my soul, or at the very least, help me get some much-needed sleep.

I went back to my bedroom and pulled on a pair of khaki shorts and a black button-up shirt with cap sleeves. I was planning on going into the diner in town that Anne had mentioned and wanted to look presentable since I'd be asking about the–hopefully still available–job. I was running low on money. I needed one as quickly as possible.

I blew my hair dry and left it down and then put on a minimum of makeup. I pulled on my black sandals and was out the door, the warm, morning air caressing my skin as I stepped outside and locked up.

Ten minutes later, I was pulling up to the curb outside of Norm's. It looked like a classic, small town diner. I looked in the big, glass window and saw that it was already half full on a Monday morning at eight a.m. The Help Wanted sign was still in the window. Yes!

I opened the door and the smell of coffee and bacon greeted me, the sounds of chatter and soft laughter coming from the booths and tables.

I walked toward the front and took a seat at the counter, next to two young women in cutoff jean shorts and tank tops–obviously not part of those stopping in for breakfast on their way to the office.

As I took a seat on the rotating, red, vinyl covered stool, the woman now sitting next to me looked at me and smiled.

"Good morning," I said and smiled back.

"Good morning!" she said.

I picked up the menu in front of me and a waitress, an older woman with short gray hair, standing at the kitchen window, looked over her shoulder at me and said, "I'll be right with you, honey." She looked harried as she flipped through her order pad. The place was only half full, but she was obviously alone and having trouble keeping up. Morning crowds were always looking for rush service so they could make it to work on time.

"No rush," I said.

A few minutes later when she had delivered a couple meals and came up to me, she said distractedly, "Coffee?"

"Please. And you look slammed–I'll make it easy on you and have the number three–just as it comes."

"Bless you, honey." She laughed. "You must have experience waitressing."

"Actually," I smiled and handed her the menu, "I do, and I know this isn't a good time, but I saw the Help Wanted sign in the window."

"Seriously?" she said, "When can you start?"

I laughed. "As soon as possible. I can come back later to fill out an application or–"

"No need. You have waitressing experience, you need a job, you're hired. Come back later to fill out the necessary paperwork, but Norm's my husband. I have the authority to hire another waitress and I just hired you." She held out her hand. "Maggie Jansen, by the way."

I grinned at her. "Bree Prescott. Thank you so much!"

"You're the one who just made my morning better," she called as she went down the counter to refill the other coffee cups.

Well, that was the easiest interview I'd ever had.

"New in town?" the young woman next to me asked.

I turned to her, smiling. "Yes, just moved here yesterday, actually."

"Well, welcome to Pelion. I'm Melanie Scholl and this is my sister, Liza." The girl on the right of her leaned forward and extended her hand.

I shook it, saying, "Really nice to meet you."

I noticed the bathing suit ties sticking out of the back of their tank tops and said, "Are you vacationing here?"

"Oh no," Melanie laughed, "we work on the other shore. We're lifeguards for the next couple weeks while the tourists are here and then we go back to work at our family's pizza parlor during the winter."

I nodded, sipping my coffee. I thought they looked about my age, Liza most likely the younger one. They looked similar with their reddish brown hair and the same large, blue eyes.

"If you have any questions about this town, you just ask us," Liza said. "We make it our business to know all the dirt." She winked. "We can tell you who to date, too, and who to avoid. We've pretty much run through them all in both towns–we're a wealth of information."

I laughed. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. I'm really glad I met you girls." I started to turn forward when something occurred to me. "Hey, actually, I have a question about someone. I dropped some stuff in the pharmacy parking lot last night and a young man stopped to help me. Tall, lean, good build, but… I don't know, he didn't say a word… and he had this long beard–"

"Archer Hale," Melanie broke in. "I'm shocked he stopped to help you though. He doesn't usually pay anyone any attention." She paused. "And no one usually pays him any attention either, I guess."

"Well, I don't know if he had too much of a choice," I said. "My stuff literally rolled right in front of his feet."

Melanie shrugged. "Still unusual. Trust me. Anyway, I think he's deaf. That's why he doesn't speak. He was in some kind of accident when he was a kid. We were just five and six when it happened, right outside town, on the highway. His parents were killed, and the town Police Chief, his uncle. That's when he lost his hearing, I guess. He lives at the end of Briar Road–he used to live with his other uncle who home-schooled him, but that uncle died a couple years back and now he lives by himself out there. He never even used to come into town until his uncle died. Now we see him every once in a while. He's a total loner though."

"Wow," I said, frowning, "that's so sad."

"Yeah," Liza chimed in, "because, have you seen the body on him? Of course, runs in the genes. If he wasn't so anti-social, I'd do him."

Melanie rolled her eyes and I put my hand up to my lips so coffee wouldn't spew out of my mouth.

"Please, you hooker," Melanie said, "you'd do him anyway, if he'd look your way once."

Liza considered that for a second and then shook her head. "I doubt he'd even know what to do with that body of his. A true shame." Melanie rolled her eyes again and then glanced up at the clock above the order window.

"Oh darn, we gotta go or we're gonna be late." She took out her wallet and called to Maggie, "I'm leaving the bill on the counter, Mags."

"Thanks, hon," Maggie called back as she walked quickly by, holding two plates.

Melanie scribbled something down on a napkin and handed it to me. "Here's our number," she said. "We're planning a girl's night on the other side of the lake soon. Maybe you'd like to come with us?"

I took the napkin. "Oh, okay, well, maybe." I smiled. I scribbled my number down on a napkin and handed her mine as well. "Thanks so much. That's really nice of you." I was surprised by how much my mood was boosted after talking to the two girls my age. Maybe that's what I need, I thought, to remember that I was a person with friends and a life before tragedy struck. It was so easy to feel like my whole existence began and ended that terrible day. But that wasn't true. I needed to remind myself of that as much as possible.

Of course, my friends back home had tried to get me to go out a few times in the months following my dad's death, but I just hadn't been up for it. Maybe going out with people who weren't so acquainted with my tragedy would be better–after all, wasn't that what this road trip was about? A temporary escape? The hope that a new place would bring new healing? And then I would have the strength to face my life again.

Liza and Melanie walked quickly out the door, calling and waving to a few other people sitting in the restaurant. After a minute, Maggie set my plate down in front of me.

As I ate, I considered what they had said about the guy named Archer Hale. It made sense now–he was deaf. I wondered why that hadn't already occurred to me. That's why he hadn't spoken. Obviously, he could read lips. And I had completely insulted him when I made the comment about him saying something. That's why his face had fallen and he had walked away like that. I cringed inwardly. "Nice one, Bree," I said quietly as I bit off a piece of toast.

I'd make it a point to apologize next time I saw him. I wondered if he knew sign language. I'd let him know I could speak it if he wanted to talk to me. I knew it well. My dad had been deaf.

Something about Archer Hale intrigued me–something I couldn't put my finger on. Something that went beyond the fact that he couldn't hear or speak and that I was intimately acquainted with that particular disability. I pondered it for a minute, but couldn't come up with an answer.

I finished my meal and Maggie waved me off when I asked for my check. "Employee's eat for free," she called, refilling coffee down the counter from me. "Come back in anytime after two to fill out the paperwork."

I grinned at her. "Okay," I said. "See you this afternoon." I left a tip on the counter and headed out the door. Not bad, I thought. Only in town one day and I've got a home, a job, and a sort of friend in my neighbor, Anne, and maybe in Melanie and Liza too. There was an extra spring in my step as I walked to my car.

CHAPTER 4

Bree

I started work at Norm's Diner early the next morning. Norm himself worked the kitchen and was mostly grumpy and grumbly, and he didn't talk to me much, but I saw him shoot Maggie looks that could only be described as adoring. I suspected that he was really just a big softie–he didn't scare me. I also knew I was a good waitress and that Maggie's stress-level had dropped significantly an hour after I started, and so I figured I had an in with Norm right off the bat.

The diner was bustling, the work straightforward, and the locals who ate there pleasant. I couldn't complain, and the first couple of days went by quickly and smoothly.

On Wednesday after I got off work, I drove home, showered, changed and pulled on my swimsuit and a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top, intending on going down to the lake and doing a little exploring. I put Phoebe's leash on her and locked up behind me.

As I was leaving my house, Anne called to me from her yard where she was watering the rosebushes. I walked over to her smiling.

"How are you settling in?" she asked me, setting her watering can down and walking over to her fence where I was standing.

"Good! I've been meaning to come over and thank you for letting me know about the position at the diner. I got it and I'm waitressing there."

"Oh that's great! Maggie's a gem. Don't let Norm scare you off–he's all bark and no bite."

I laughed. "I figured that out pretty quickly." I winked. "No, it's been good. I was just going to drive down the road and check out the lake a little bit."

"Oh, good. The docks don't make for a very good walk right here–of course, you probably figured that out. If you go down to Briar Road, you can follow the signs to the small beach." She gave me brief directions and then added, "If you want it, I have a bike that I don't use anymore. With my arthritis, I just can't grip the handlebars so that I feel safe. But it's practically new and it even has a basket for your dog." She looked down at the little dog in question. "Hi there. What's your name?" She smiled down at Phoebe and Phoebe chuffed happily, dancing around a bit.

"Say hi, Phoebe." I smiled.

"What a cute girl you are," Anne said, bending down slightly to let Phoebe lick her hand.

She stood up and said, "The bike is in my spare bedroom. Would you like to see it?"

I paused. "Are you sure? I mean, I would love to ride a bike down to the lake rather than take my car."

"Yes, yes," she waved me toward her as she started to walk to her house. "I would love to see it put to use. I used to pick blueberries up that way. They grow wild. Bring a couple bags and you can put them in the bike basket when you're done. Do you bake?"

"Um," I said, following her in to her cottage, "I used to. I haven't in a while."

She glanced back at me. "Well, maybe the blueberries will inspire you to pick up an apron again." She smiled as she opened a door right off the main room.

Her cottage was casually decorated with well-used, slipcovered furniture and lots of knick knacks and framed photos. The smell of dried eucalyptus hung in the air. It immediately felt comforting and happy.

"Here we go," Anne said, wheeling a bike out of the room she had entered seconds before. I couldn't help grinning. It was one of those old-fashioned bikes with a big basket on the front.

"Oh my goodness! It's fabulous. Are you sure you want me using this?"

"Nothing would make me happier, dear. In fact, if it works for you, you keep it."

I smiled at her, wheeling it out onto her porch. "Thank you so much. This is so kind of you. I really… thank you."

She came out behind me and helped me lift it down the stairs. "My pleasure. It makes me happy to know it's being used and enjoyed."

I smiled again, admiring it, when something occurred to me. "Oh! Can I ask you a question? I ran into someone in town, and someone else I met mentioned that he lives at the end of Briar Road. Archer Hale? Do you know him?"

Anne frowned, looking thoughtful at the same time. "Yes, I know of him anyway. You'll actually be passing right by his land on your way to the small beach. You can't miss it–it's really the only property on that stretch of road." She looked thoughtful for a second. "Yes, Archer Hale… I remember him as a sweet little boy. Doesn't talk now though. Suppose it's because he doesn't hear."

I tilted my head. "Do you know what happened to him exactly?"

She paused. "There was a big car crash outside of town right about the time my Bill got his diagnosis. Suppose I didn't pay quite as much attention to the details as the rest of the town did–just grieved along with them. But what I do know, is that Archer's parents and his uncle, Connor Hale, the owner of the town and the Chief of Police, died that day, and that whatever afflicts Archer happened in that accident. Hmm, now let me think…" She paused. "He went to live with his other uncle, Nathan Hale. But he died three or four years ago–some kind of cancer from what I recall." She looked past me, staring into space for a couple seconds. "Some in town say he isn't right in the head, Archer, I mean. But I don't know about that. Might just be them passing off his uncle's personality onto him. My younger sister went to school with Nathan Hale and he never was quite right. Wicked smart, but always slightly strange. And when he came home from the army, he was even more… different."

I frowned up at her. "And they still sent a little boy to live with him?"

"Oh well, I suppose he presented okay to the county. And anyway, far as I know, he was the only family that boy had left." She went quiet again for a minute. "Haven't talked about the original Hale boys in years now. But they sure did always cause a stir. Hmm." She was quiet again for a few beats. "Now that I think about it, it really is a sad situation with the younger Hale boy. Sometimes in small towns, people who have been around forever sort of… become part of the backdrop, I guess. In the town's attempt to move past the tragedy, Archer might have just gotten lost in the mix. Such a shame."

Anne lapsed into silence again, seeming to be lost in the past and I thought I'd better be off.

"Hmm, well," I smiled, "thanks again for the directions. I'll stop by later."

Anne brightened and seemed to snap back to the present. "Yes, that would be nice. Have a lovely day!" She smiled and turned back around and grabbed the watering can she had sat down on her porch as I wheeled the bike through her front gate.

I put Phoebe in the basket and as I got on the bike and pedaled slowly toward the entrance of Briar Road, I thought about what Anne had told me about the Hale brothers, and about Archer Hale. It didn't seem like anyone knew the exact story of what had happened to Archer–or they had forgotten the details? I knew what it was like to lose both your parents, not in one fell swoop though. How would you even begin to deal with something like that? Did your mind allow you to process one loss at a time–wouldn't you go crazy with grief if that much of it inundated your heart at once? Some days I felt like I was barely holding on to my emotions from moment to moment. I supposed that we all coped in our different ways–pain and healing as individual as the people who experienced them.

The sight of what must be his property snapped me out of my own thoughts. There was a high fence surrounding it, the tops of trees too numerous and too thick to see anything beyond the high structure. I craned my neck to see how far the fence went, but it was hard to tell from the road, and there were woods on either side. My eyes returned to the front of the fence where I could see a latch, but it was closed.

I wasn't sure why I stood there, just looking at it and listening to the mosquitos buzz. But after a few minutes, Phoebe barked softly, and I continued to head down the road to the beach access where Anne had directed me.

I spent a few hours down at the lakeshore, swimming and sunning myself. Phoebe lay on a corner of my towel in the shade, sleeping contentedly. It was a hot August day, but the breeze off of the lake and the shade of the trees behind the shore made it comfortable. There were a few people further down the small beach area, but it was mostly deserted. I figured that that was because this side of the lake was only used by locals. I lay back on the towel I had brought and looked up at the tips of the swaying trees and the patches of bright blue sky, listening to the lapping water. After a few minutes, I closed my eyes, just intending to rest, but instead fell asleep.

I dreamed of my dad. Only this time, he hadn't died right away. He crawled into the kitchen just in time to see the man dart out the back door.

"You're alive!" I said, beginning to sit up off the floor where the man had left me.

He nodded, a gentle smile on his face.

"You're okay?" I asked haltingly, fearful.

"Yes," he said and I startled for my dad had never used his voice, only his hands.

"You can speak," I whispered.

"Yes," he said again, laughing slightly. "Of course." But it was then that I noticed that his lips weren't moving.

"I want you back, dad," I said, my eyes tearing up. "I miss you so much."

His face went serious and it looked like the distance between us was increasing even though neither of us had moved. "I'm so sorry you can't have us both, Little Bee," he said, using my nickname.

"Both?" I whispered, confused, watching the distance between us grow even more.

Suddenly, he was gone and I was alone. I was crying, and my eyes were closed, but I could feel a presence standing over me.

I startled awake, warm tears coursing down my cheeks, the very edges of the dream fading into mist. As I lay there trying to gather my emotions, I swore I heard the sound of someone moving away, through the woods behind me.

* * *

I got into the diner early the next morning. Despite sleeping well, I had had a particularly bad flashback that morning, and I was having trouble shaking the melancholy that still clung to me.

I dove into the morning rush, keeping my head down and my mind occupied with the business of taking orders, delivering food, and refilling coffee. By nine when the diner started to empty out, I was feeling better, lighter.

I was re-stocking the condiments at the counter when the door to the diner opened and a young man in a police uniform walked in. He removed his hat and ran his hand through his short, wavy brown hair before he nodded over at Maggie, who smiled back at him and called out, "Trav."

His gaze moved to me as he walked toward the counter and our eyes locked for a portion of a second. His face lit up with a smile, his straight, white teeth flashing as he took a seat in front of me. "Well, you must be the reason that Maggie's got a smile on her face this morning," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Travis Hale."

Oh, another Hale. I smiled back, taking his hand. "Hi Travis. Bree Prescott."

He sat down, bringing his long legs under the counter. "Good to meet you, Bree. What brings you to Pelion?"

I chose my words carefully, not wanting to come off as some kind of weird nomad. Although, I supposed that was sort of what I was at the moment if I had decided to be completely truthful. "Well, Travis, I recently graduated college and decided to take sort of a freedom road-trip." I smiled. "Ended up here in your pretty little town."

He grinned. "Exploring while you can." He said. "I like it. Wish I had done more of that myself."

I smiled back, handing him a menu just as Maggie came up behind me. She grabbed the menu and tossed it under the counter. "Travis Hale must have that thing memorized by now," she said, winking at me. "Been coming in here since his mother had to sit him in a booster seat to reach the table. Speaking of your mother, how is she?"