Archer's Voice (A Sign of Love Novel)(21)

I said goodnight to everyone, and Liza, Melanie, and I left, laughing all the way to the car.
Once we got on the road, Melanie said, "Travis Hale, Bree? Geez, you went straight to the Pelion dating big leagues, didn't you? Hell, the state of Maine big leagues."
I laughed. "Is that what Travis Hale is considered?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, he gets around, but I don't blame him. Girls usually throw themselves at him–trying to pin him down. Maybe you'll be the one that finally does it." She winked back at me and Liza laughed.
"Have you girls…"
"Oh, no, no," they both said simultaneously. Then Liza continued. "Too many of our friends hooked up with him and then thought they were in love. We've seen the destruction he leaves in his wake. Just be careful."
I smiled, but didn't say anything. Careful was my middle name these days. However, despite the fact that Travis's flirting had made me feel slightly uncomfortable at the end of the night, I was proud of myself for taking a few steps in that direction at all. And I'd had a fun time.
We chatted a little more about the other guys they had met and before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of my cottage.
I climbed out, whispering, "Bye! Thank you so much!" not wanting to wake any of the neighbors.
"We'll call you!" they called, waving back and then driving away.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth and that night, I went to bed smiling, thinking, hoping, maybe I'd wake up smiling too.


CHAPTER 8

Bree

I woke up gasping. Before I could even sit up, I was catapulted straight into the mother of all flashbacks. It had the strength and vividness of the ones I had had directly following my father's murder–complete with my dad lying in a pool of blood, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. I gripped the bed sheets and rode it out, that same loud screeching sound filling my brain until reality finally took hold and the world around me cleared.
A few minutes later, I leaned over the toilet, tears swimming in my eyes. "Why?" I moaned, full of self-pity, full of the pain and grief the memories brought.
I pulled myself up and shakily got into the shower, refusing to spend the rest of the day in bed like I wanted to now, like I had done for months after that night.
The flashback sure had killed the happy buzz I had going on last night.
I took a quick shower and pulled on my suit, shorts and tank. For some reason, spending time down at the little lake beach out on Briar Road filled me with a particular sense of contentment. Yes, I had had that dream about my dad there, but despite the sadness of missing him, and the dream bringing that up, I had woken from it with a feeling of hope. I liked it there.
I set out on my bike, Phoebe riding in the basket in front. The morning was bright and already getting hot. It was the end of August–I had no idea when the weather started to turn in Maine, but for now, it still felt like summer.
I turned onto Briar Road, letting my bike coast as I brought both legs out to the side. I took my hands off of the handlebars for a brief few seconds and let my bike steer itself, bumping over the small stones on the dirt road and laughing out. Phoebe barked several times as if to say, "Be careful, daredevil."
"I know, precious cargo. I won't wreck us, Phoebs."
When I got to the lake, I laid my towel and cooler down in my usual spot and waded into the cool water, Phoebe watching me from the shore. The water felt delicious, lapping gently against my thighs as I waded further out. Finally, I immersed myself completely and began swimming, the water flowing against my body like a cool caress.
As I turned around and headed back, I heard an animal, a large dog most likely, I thought, howling as if it was in great distress. Phoebe started yapping excitedly, running back and forth along the beach. I pulled my body out of the water completely and stopped to listen, the howling continuing to my left, in the direction of Archer Hale's property.
I wondered if his acreage possibly extended all the way to this small beach? I guessed that it very well could. I walked over to the edge of the woods and when I pushed some brambles aside and squinted in through the trees, I couldn't make anything out other than more trees. But about a hundred feet in, I saw a whole bunch of blackberry bushes. I sucked in a breath, excitement filling me. My dad had made this insanely good blackberry cobbler. If he could only see this bounty right in front of me. I started toward the crop of bushes, but when a branch caught my bare tummy, I hissed in a breath and retreated. I wasn't dressed for blackberry picking. That would have to be for another day.
I returned to my towel, dried off and then sat back down. I spent several hours there, reading and lying in the sun before Phoebe and I headed for home. As usual, I paused briefly in front of Archer's gate, wondering again at what those faded spots on his fence had once said.