"And then Connor Hale became the Chief of Police?"
"Yes, yes he did. Got married too, trying to move on as well I suppose. And he had Travis."
"Wow. And then it all ended 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.