Archer's Voice(101)

After his arrest, his father disinherited him again and he turned back to drugs.

Travis had confronted his mother. He was a good cop, with good instincts, and he recognized his mother for who she was–a vindictive woman so filled with hate and bitterness, that she would do anything to keep what she saw as rightfully hers–the town, money, respect, social standing.

He had also been there when Victoria Hale overheard me talking about Jeffrey Perkins' arrest. He put the pieces together.

What other way would a strung out heroin addict have to find me in the diner that terrible day? We had underestimated her hatred for me, the person who had, in essence, undone all that her manipulation had accomplished for her over the years.

When Travis came to me and told me about his confrontation and her denial, a denial he didn't believe, he said he'd told her to move away, or he would bring an investigation against her. Even though he knew he didn't have enough evidence to prosecute, there was nothing left for her in Pelion except shame.

Now, with Victoria's departure and with the absence of an executor to the trust, Archer inherited the will and land of the Hale family a year before his twenty-fifth birthday.

Travis looked haggard, unshaven, and almost numb, like he wasn't sleeping. He had had his own career in trying to manipulate lives. But after all, he had learned from the best. Deep down though, I didn't think that Travis wanted anyone to come to any real harm. His mother was a different story. I got the impression that seeing her for who she really was, and what she was capable of doing, had changed him in some dramatic way. There was a deep sadness in his eyes and he'd delivered the information to me in a monotone and then left me to my grief once again as I waited in the hospital for Archer to come back to me.

A hush fell over the auditorium as Archer walked toward the short set of stairs.

Norm, standing off to the side, signed, Knock 'em dead, and raised his chin at him, his expression serious. A look of surprise washed over Archer's face and then he nodded at him. I bit down on my lip, holding back a sob.

Mrs. Aherne, the town librarian, who had checked out hundreds of books to Archer over the last four years on subjects from masonry to sign language, but had never once asked him a single question, or tried to engage him in any way, signed, We're all behind you, Archer. Tears were shimmering in her eyes and the look on her face told me she wished she had done better. Archer smiled at her and nodded, signing back, Thank you.

As he took the stage and stood behind the podium, he nodded at the interpreter, standing to his right, a man he had hired to help him when he needed to address the town as a whole, on occasions such as this one.

Archer began to move his hands and the interpreter began speaking. My eyes only held Archer though, watching as his hands flew, so graceful and sure in their movements. My heart soared with pride.

Thank you all for coming, he said, pausing and looking around. The land this town is on has been in my family for a long, long time, and I intend to run it as each Hale has run it before me–with the knowledge and belief that each person who lives here matters, that each of you get a vote on what happens and doesn't happen in Pelion. He looked around pointedly at all the faces in the crowd before continuing. After all, Pelion is not the land it sits on, but the people who walk its streets and run its shops and live and love in its homes. He paused again. I think you'll find me an agreeable landlord, and I've been told I'm a good listener. The crowd laughed lightly, and Archer looked shy for a second, looking down before continuing. There will be a vote tonight about the development slated for this town and I know some of you are very passionate about getting to that. But I'd like everyone to know that if ever in the future, any of you have any concerns or suggestions, my door will always be open.

The crowd kept watching him, smiling and nodding with approval, finding other eyes and nodding at them as well.

Finally, Archer looked out at the crowd and the gentle, quiet murmurings ceased completely as his eyes found mine. I smiled at him encouragingly, but he just kept gazing at me for a few seconds before bringing his hands up again.

I'm here for you. I'm here because of you. I'm here because you saw me, not just with your eyes, but with your heart. I'm here because you wanted to know what I had to say and because you were right… everyone does need friends. I laughed softly, swiping a tear off of my cheek. Archer kept gazing at me, his eyes filled with love.

I'm here because of you, he said, and I'll always be here because of you.

I heaved out a big breath, tears running unabashedly down my cheeks now. Archer smiled gently at me and then looked back around at the crowd.

Thank you again for being here, for your support. I look forward to getting to know you all a lot better, he finished.

A single clap started in the back of the room, and then several more joined in until the whole room was clapping and whistling, and Archer grinned, and looked down shyly once more, and I shed a few more tears, laughing through them now. A few people stood up and more followed until the entire audience was standing and clapping vigorously for him.

And as he smiled around at the crowd, his eyes landed on mine again, and he raised his hands and signed, I Bree you, and I laughed and signed, I Archer you. God, I Archer you so much.

And then he shook hands with the interpreter and stepped down off the podium and I moved out of my seat, Maggie squeezing my hand as I walked by her. I walked toward him, single minded, and when we reached each other, despite the bandages under his shirt, he swept me up in his arms and swung me around as he laughed silently against my lips, those golden brown eyes filled with warmth, with love.