Archer’s Voice (Where Love Meets Destiny)
Archer’s Voice: Chapter 12

I worked early on Friday and drove home to get ready for my date with Travis.

I took a long, hot shower and took extra time with my hair and makeup, trying to work up some excitement at just being a girl who was about to be picked up for a date.

What if he kissed me? Nervous flutters started in my belly. Strangely, again, Archer came to my mind and so did a vague sense of guilt. That was silly though–Archer was only my friend. I thought maybe there was a little something between us though, only what it was, I had no real clue. It was confusing and strange, unknown territory. He had a nice face, from what I could see of it anyway, but was I attracted to him? I furrowed my brow at myself in the mirror, pausing in my eyeliner application. He definitely had a nice body–no scratch that, an amazing body, totally drool-worthy–and I admired it constantly, but attracted? How could you be attracted to someone who was so different from anyone you’d ever been attracted to before? Still, I couldn’t deny his charm. When I thought of him, pictured his shy smile and the way his eyes constantly took in every little thing about me, my tummy fluttered. Yes, there was something there–what, I couldn’t be completely sure.

Travis, on the other hand, was seemingly easy to be attracted to. He had it all–smooth moves and the kind of good looks that any girl in her right mind would replace appealing. Apparently, I wasn’t exactly in my right mind. But maybe giving myself a little push was a good thing, a necessary thing. It’d been over six months now…

I finished up my makeup. I didn’t need to over complicate this. It was just a date. With a cute guy, a nice guy.

And I didn’t need to be so nervous. I wasn’t inexperienced–and I wasn’t a virgin. I had had three semi-serious boyfriends in college, and I had even thought I might be in love with one of them. It had turned out that he was in love with every girl on my dorm floor–or at least in love with getting into their pants behind my back, and that had ended badly. But the point was, I had no need to be nervous of Travis Hale. This was just a date, and only a first date at that. And if I didn’t want to see him again, I wouldn’t. Simple.

Travis knocked on my door at seven o’clock sharp, gorgeous in a pair of dress pants and a button up shirt. I had chosen a black, wrap dress that hugged the few curves that I had and my silver heels. I had left my hair down and curled it very loosely with a curling iron. He looked me over appreciatively and handed me the bouquet of red roses he had in his hand, already in a glass vase.

‘You look gorgeous, Bree.’

I brought the flowers to my nose, smiling. ‘Thank you,’ I said, setting the vase down on the table next to the door and taking his arm as we walked to his large, dark silver truck.

He helped me into it and we chatted about how I was settling in to Pelion on the drive to the restaurant.

He brought me to a place called Cassell’s Grill on the other side of the lake which I had already heard was the nicest restaurant around. What I had heard seemed likely enough–it was dim and romantic with a beautiful view of the shoreline out the huge windows that surrounded it.

When we sat down at our table and I remarked on how beautiful the restaurant was, Travis said, ‘Pretty soon we won’t have to come across the lake for places like this. We’ll have plenty to choose from in Pelion.’

I looked up from my menu. ‘So you like the proposed changes I take it?’

He nodded. ‘I do. Not only will it modernize the town, but it will bring in more income for everyone, my family included. I think most people will be happy in the end.’

I nodded, wondering at that. From the talk I’d heard here and there in the diner, most people in town weren’t thrilled about turning Pelion into another big, modern tourist retreat.

‘Plus,’ he continued, ‘I’ll be taking over the land the town is on soon, so I’ve been working with my mother on some of the planning.’

I looked up at him, surprised. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize.’

He nodded, a slightly smug look on his face. He took a sip of water and said, ‘The land this town is on has been in my family since the first people of Pelion made it their home. It’s always been passed down from first born son to first born son, once that son is twenty-five. Not this February, but next, I’ll be running things.’

I nodded. Before I had moved to Pelion, I hadn’t even realized that people owned whole towns. ‘I see. Well, that’s great, Travis. And the fact that you also followed in your dad’s footsteps and became a cop– I admire that a lot.’

Travis looked pleased. He wined and dined me, keeping the conversation light and fun. I was having a good time. When we were in the middle of our meal, and he asked me what I had been doing for fun in town other than my night out with Melanie and Liza, I paused, and then said, ‘Actually, I’ve been spending some time with Archer.’

He choked on his sip of water, bringing his napkin up to his mouth. ‘Archer? You’re joking, right?’

I shook my head, frowning. ‘No. Did you know he signed?’

‘Uh, no,’ he said. ‘He wouldn’t even look at me the last time I acknowledged him in town.’

I studied him. ‘Hmm, well, he’s not the most trusting person. But I think he has really good reason for that. Maybe you should try a little harder.’

He looked at me over the rim of his wine glass before taking a sip. ‘Maybe. Okay.’ He paused. ‘So what do you two do together exactly?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘talk mostly. I sign too–my dad was deaf.’

He looked surprised for a second. ‘Well, that’s a coincidence. What does Archer have to say exactly?’

I shrugged. ‘We talk about a lot of stuff. He’s nice, and smart, and… interesting. I like him.’

Travis furrowed his brow. ‘Okay, well hey, Bree, be careful of him, okay? He’s not exactly… stable. I know that for a fact. Trust me.’ He looked up at me with concern. ‘I wouldn’t want him to do anything to hurt you.’

I nodded at him. ‘I’m not worried about that,’ I said softly.

I didn’t ask about his dad and Archer’s dad, even though I knew a little bit about the supposed rivalry between them. For some strange reason, I wanted to hear about it from Archer, not Travis. I wasn’t sure exactly why–perhaps it was the fact that Archer and I had formed more of a friendship than Travis and I had as of yet.

In any case, Travis changed the subject after that and moved us back onto lighter ground. After he had paid the bill and we got in his truck, he took my hand across the seats and held it all the way back to my cottage.

He walked me to the door, those butterflies swarming in my belly again. When we got to my porch and I turned to him, he took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth and I froze up slightly, but he pressed forward, and after a couple seconds, I relaxed. He kissed me with skill, his hands moving down to my shoulders and then down over my back without me even realizing it until he was cupping my ass and bringing me up against him. I felt his arousal through his pants and broke the kiss, both of us breathing hard as I looked up into his lust-filled eyes. Something felt… off. It must just be me. I needed to take things slowly. The last time a man had looked at me with lust in his eyes had been the most traumatic moment of my life. I needed to take baby steps here.

I smiled at Travis. ‘Thank you for a really nice night,’ I said. He smiled back and kissed my forehead gently.

‘I’ll call you. Goodnight, Bree.’

He turned and walked down my steps and when his truck started up, I went inside and closed my door behind me.

**********

The next day, I woke up early, had a doozy of a flashback–apparently, date nights out with cute guys wasn’t the cure there either–and then dragged myself to the kitchen for a cup of hot tea.

When I remembered that today was my cooking lesson with Archer, happiness fluttered gently in my belly, replacing the feeling of dread from the flashback. I needed to figure out what I should show him how to make. A nervous thud pounded in my chest when I considered cooking again. Was this a good idea? I had said baby steps last night when it came to intimacy, and baby steps with cooking felt right too. I wasn’t actually going to be immersing myself in a complicated meal creation. I was going to be showing Archer how to prepare something simple. It was perfect. I felt good about it. And I was looking forward to spending time with him.

I stood at the sink, steeping my tea bag and sipping carefully at the hot liquid, considering all of that and feeling better. The flashback had been a bad one, but once again, I was going to be okay. Until tomorrow, when it would happen again. I leaned heavily against my counter, trying not to let the depression of that thought take over.

Thankfully work was busy at the diner and the day flew by. I headed home and showered and pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top and sat down at my kitchen table and made a list of ingredients. When I was done with that, I grabbed my purse and keys and slipped on my flip flops.

Ten minutes later, I was pulling into the parking lot of the downtown grocery store. I smiled to myself as I walked toward the font door recalling the last time I’d been here and how I’d felt when Archer had turned around and said goodnight to me. I’d felt like that person who opens her door and a sweepstakes team is waiting outside. Two words from a silent boy–my unexpected windfall. It had thrilled me.

I checked out with enough money this time thank you very much, and drove the short distance back to my cottage.

Men like steak and potatoes. And Archer lived by himself. I thought I’d show him how to cook a steak perfectly, make a simple potatoes au gratin and a side of roasted parmesan green beans.

As I had been looking over the fruit selection for a dessert, I had remembered the blackberry bushes right off the beach. I didn’t have anything else to do until it was time to be at Archer’s, so I thought some blackberry picking for a cobbler sounded like a good plan. I’d pack everything up and head over to the lake at about four thirty to give myself a half an hour or so to collect what I needed. Might as well take advantage of summer fruit picking while I could. Plus, it was pleasant, mindless work that resulted in something wonderful. I liked it.

When I got back to my cottage, I got everything ready and packed it up in Tupperware containers and put it in my larger cooler. It would have to sit both on the back of my bike and on top of my basket rather than in it, but I thought that would be okay.

Phoebe was going to have to sit this trip out, but she’d survive. I’d take her for an extra long walk on the lake shore tomorrow.

I stepped outside into the warm, only slightly muggy air and smiled, happiness running through me. Why was I more excited to go show my strange, silent boy how to cook for himself than I had been making out with the town hottie on my porch last night? Whoa. I stopped and just stood beside my bike for a minute. My strange, silent boy? Not hardly, Bree. Just get on your bike and go show your friend how to make a decent meal for himself.

I left my bike leaned against a tree at the beach entrance like usual and walked to the wooded area next to the shore. I moved the branches and bushes aside very carefully as I peered through. There they were–a whole crop of blackberry bushes loaded down with succulent fruit, ripe for the picking. It would be a shame to leave all of that to rot and fall to the ground.

I stepped through the bushes gingerly and slowly, avoiding the sharp branches that poked out. Once I had made it through the initial overgrowth, there was a clearing that I could walk through easily enough straight to the berries.

I made my way to them and plucked one soft, ripe berry off the bush, popping it in my mouth. I closed my eyes as the sweet juice burst across my tongue and moaned softly. God, that was good. These were going to make a delicious cobbler.

I started picking them carefully and dropping them in the small basket I had brought with me. After a while, I started humming as I picked. It was cooler in here, the woods keeping out the heat of the late afternoon sun, only small patches of sunshine coming through breaks in the trees, the feeling of warmth caressing my skin as I moved through them.

I stepped further into the woods toward a lone blackberry bush holding an abundance of berries. I reached toward it, my lips curved in a smile, and suddenly, my ankle twisted harshly beneath me and I was grabbed violently from behind, arms everywhere, my head smacking into the ground before my entire body was catapulted up and off the dirt, into the air.

I screamed and screamed and screamed, but he wouldn’t let go. He had found me–he had come for me. And this time, he was going to kill me. I struggled and thrashed and screamed, but his grip just got tighter around me.

It was happening again. Oh God, God, God, it was happening again.