Archer got water for himself and relaxed on the couch once more before pulling off his boots and propping his feet up on the coffee table. I studied his socks – some of the expensive wool ones that lasted forever – and reflected on how intimate being barefoot or nearly there could feel. Like maybe we’d done this before or were relaxing after a long week.
Before he could turn the quiet moment into an interrogation, I jumped on the opportunity to question him. “So how did you get into TV? Have you been doing this long?”
“Not very long.” His mouth went down at the corner, deeper on the left without the scars. “It was kind of a winding road, to be honest. I graduated high school and didn’t have any plans, so I joined the Army.”
Ah ha. That explained the haircut and the intensity, at least. “Hmm. You do kind of radiate that Captain America vibe.”
He shot me a sideways look. “Uh huh. Everyone’s got jokes. I stayed in for a long time, longer than I planned, after I fell in with some special units. I got to travel a lot, so that was good, and learned a lot of things. I saw things that couldn’t be explained, and that pushed me in the direction of searching for more. Television was a good place to do that. I was hired as an advisor for some thriller, since they didn’t know which side of the uniform to put the patch on, and from there I worked my way into some wildlife documentaries and eventually to cryptids.”
The mild painkiller eased some of the tension in my chest over his reaction to the blood bags. “Did you get the scars in the Army? Or on a documentary somewhere wild?”
His gaze drifted to the fire and tension gathered in his neck and shoulders. “It was early in my military career. Just a year in, actually. I’d gone through training and everything, qualified in my branch, and got sent to a base in Alaska for my first tour. It was late summer, just before the temperatures started to drop.”
A knot tied up my throat. I shouldn’t have asked. It sounded as painful for him to tell as my history with Jamie had been for me. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”
“Turnabout is fair play, right?” He smiled quickly but it fell away just as fast. Shadows danced across his face along with the firelight, and left him even more of a mystery. “My sisters came to visit me before they went back to college, and we went on a fishing trip. Well, they wanted to swim and laze around by a lake, but I wanted to fish, so we compromised. And one night we were just getting ready to turn in when something came out of the trees and attacked us.”
I blinked. “Just like that?”
“Mmm.” His lips thinned as he stared at the fire and rubbed his shoulder like he still felt the pain. “Unprovoked. We’d put everything in a bear bag and had mace and a couple of rifles and shotguns ready, but it happened so fast there wasn’t much we could do. The beast knocked me down and then went after my sisters. I managed to get the rifle and put a few rounds into it, enough to distract it from them and draw its attention so they could get to the boat and hide on the water until it left.”
He trailed off and took a deep breath.
My hand slid over so my fingers could curl around his. “But it didn’t leave.”
“Nope. And they didn’t make it to the boat.” Archer exhaled and faced me more, a manufactured calm drawing tension in his jaw. “It got ugly and eventually I wounded it enough it ran off. Charlie died there at the campsite, but Victoria made it to the hospital and stayed a couple of days before she passed, too.”
My sinuses burned as tears bubbled up. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. That means something coming from someone who knows about this kind of stuff.” He gave me a half-hearted smile, no dimple. “I was laid up for a long time after that. The rangers claimed it was a bear driven mad by hunger as it prepared to hibernate, but I know it wasn’t. It was something else entirely, something unnatural or maybe supernatural.”
Unnatural or supernatural. My eyebrows drew together. “Not a cryptid?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. Archer studied where I still held his hand, and absently stroked his thumb across the inside of my wrist. “Maybe a cryptid. I didn’t get any pictures. It was tall – eight, nine feet – and wiry but powerful. Strong as hell, enough that it picked me up and threw me a solid ten feet. Hairy all over, big teeth, front-facing eyes. Possibly a tail.”
A tail. That ruled out most of the hominid cryptids I’d studied. “Did it speak? Make any noises? Use its – sorry, its hands or opposable thumbs?” I winced as I asked, since he probably didn’t want to remember whether the thing used hands or paws to kill his sisters. “A humanoid face or a snout or something?”
I didn’t know why I was asking for details like I could somehow solve the mystery for him. That damn curiosity got hold of me, like Mom said, and I couldn’t help myself from probing around. Popping something open to see how it worked and then getting bored before I put it back together again.
He scratched his beard, once more gazing at the fire. “It was dark and things happened really fast. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it and trying to remember, which is damn funny since I spent years after the attack trying to forget.”
“I know how that can be,” I said under my breath. I didn’t dare move my hand, even though my nose itched, in case he decided to release the other and I lost that warm connection. “Did you stay in the military, then? Afterward?”
“Yep.” Archer’s expression softened when he looked over at me. “Another nine years. Took me forever to heal up but when I did, there wasn’t much that scared me. I took some unique assignments and tried to put it all behind me.”
I drew my feet up on the couch, all drowsy and warm. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter how far you run or how deep you dig your hole. It’s there all the same.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” he murmured. Another brush of his thumb, that time across the back of my hand, and the gentle tightening of his fingers around mine. “And it found me again on this documentary in the Himalayas.”
That perked me up. I forced my eyes open, even though I wanted to lean forward against his shoulder and sleep for ages. “Did you find a yeti?”
Archer smiled and squeezed my knee where I’d drawn my legs up. “Not really. We were looking for snow leopards but kept finding little things amiss. Strange noises, large footprints that weren’t human, movement just beyond our camera’s range, what could have been a human-sized nest.”
“That’s a yeti,” I said, too excited to hold still. I grabbed his hand with both of mine. “Where are the pictures? Did you get hair samples? Bring back any sticks to test for DNA? Any scat or bones left behind? What about…”
“Hold on,” he said, laughing. “At the time I didn’t know anything about actual cryptozoology, so we chalked it up to the locals playing tricks on us. After what happened in Alaska, though, I felt like there was more out there. The snow leopard documentary wrapped up, and I stayed on in Nepal and Bhutan to see what I could find.”
My heart thrummed against my ribs. Granted, I’d found enough evidence in Appalachia and knew my mountains backward and forward, but the chance to see the Himalayas and trek through the wild unknown to search for one of the most famous cryptids in existence… “Wow. I would love to see that, to try and track it down. There are all kinds of research tools I’d want to test. You could spend years there and still not do it justice.”
His head tilted, and somehow his hand moved until he was holding mine again, all easy and relaxed like it was the most natural thing to do. “Why don’t you? There are plenty of crews out there filming for various networks. You could pick up one gig, take a break to search for yetis when it ended, and hire on with a different crew when you needed money. I think you’d really like it in those mountains. They’re so vast they might even compete with your intellect.”
I laughed and smacked his shoulder. “That’s not nice.”
His sea blue eyes caught and held mine, and the depths drew me in. Archer existed as solidly as a rock, as certain as the North Star. I could align my astrolabe with him and know exactly how the stars would turn. “I mean it, though. You’d like Nepal. The food’s okay but the pace of life is perfect. Slow and easy unless there’s an avalanche. There’s no racing around to get somewhere or finish something, and when you get hooked in with the right community, everyone looks out for everyone else.”
I sighed and leaned my head on the cushion again so I could gaze at him even when my neck got too wobbly to hold me upright. “Maybe eventually.”
“Why not now?” Archer squeezed my fingers when I started to speak, and went on. “Are you going to put your life on hold for your brother forever, Ada? It’s been ten years. You’ve done everything a sister could do to find him. It doesn’t seem like you’ve had a life outside of school and research and hiking through the forest hoping to find a sign of him. When will you do something just for yourself?”
It grew too difficult to breathe. There were times when I’d been so angry at Jamie and Dad and the universe that I threw things and screamed at the sky until I lost my voice. Everyone left me. I tried my hardest and did everything I was supposed to, and still somehow my life went off the rails. It never lasted long, and guilt followed soon after the temper tantrums for being so selfish that I’d be pissed at Jamie for disappearing and at Dad for dying. I felt like a shit when it happened, but sometimes it boiled up and overflowed and there wasn’t anything to do but ride it out.
But with Archer pointing it out after sharing how widely he’d travelled, having the adventures I’d only vaguely dreamed of, the lack stung even deeper. The ten years I’d been hunting down the Ozark Howler, I could have traveled the world looking for even wilder places. I cleared my throat a few times. “It’s different, when it’s family. And… and not knowing what happened.”
I couldn’t say aloud that Jamie might have been killed or died alone. If I stopped searching, then that was as good as admitting he wasn’t coming back. That he was gone forever, just like Dad, and I wouldn’t ever know what really happened. My vision blurred as I stared at the fire. I’d missed out on a lot as it was, skipping grades and going to college before I hit double digits. I didn’t know how to talk to people or flirt with guys or read typical social cues or just be normal. I’d accepted that and figured I could pass it off as ‘quirky.’ But admitting that I’d missed half of my teens and half of my twenties searching for someone who was long gone would just hurt too much. I couldn’t handle the regret or the guilt over feeling it.
“I know this is hard,” he said.
I wiped quickly under my eyes, muttering something about the smoke, and fussed with my cast as I searched for some kind of composure. Not even logic could help when your heart broke over and over and over every time there was a wisp of hope and a crashing disappointment.
Archer made a rusty sound and abruptly put his arm around me to pull me tight to his side. He hugged me close, dragging my leg and heavy cast across his lap so I wasn’t twisted up like a pretzel. “Ada, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up, it’s not fair of me to say those things. I think it’s incredible you’re so dedicated to your family and if anyone has a chance of finding Jamie, it’s you.”
“I used to think so.” I took a deep breath and let my head rest against the flat plane of his chest. It felt like flannel-covered stone against my cheek. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”
“As long as you want to,” he said, his beard brushing against my hair. “But not any longer. I don’t think your brother would want you to martyr yourself for him, whether he’s already gone or lives somewhere in hiding. I imagine he’d want you to have your own adventures and get married and live your life. Right? It took me a while to realize that after my sisters died. It felt like I didn’t deserve happiness or laughter or anything good, since I hadn’t saved them and survived instead. I would have sacrificed myself if it meant they stayed safe, but no one has a time machine. Well, if I had to put money on someone having a time machine, it would be you, but since it’s in this cabin, I’m guessing you’ve back-burnered the project.”
I wanted to laugh, but his words hit too close to home. The first time Dad and Mom and I laughed after Jamie disappeared, we all stopped like we’d been slugged in the gut. It felt like such a betrayal, such a disservice to him when he was somewhere cold and alone, and we yukked it up together. Everything after that… I could laugh but inevitably it hurt my heart. But how could you let that go? How could you just accept that someone was gone from your life and might never come back?
When I didn’t speak, Archer rested his chin on top of my head and squeezed me a little. “Maybe something to think about is how this money could fund a hell of a world tour and a chance to have some kickass adventures. You don’t have to say good-bye to your brother, Ada, but maybe a ‘see you later’ would be enough for now. Take a break and a breath, and come back to your research after you’ve seen other places.”
The fire popped and hissed loud enough it almost covered the whisper of his breath and the hush-hush of his hand rubbing my back. My eyes drifted closed. “Why are you so nice? I thought you’d want me to stick around here so you can film ten seasons of this series. Why would you encourage me to run away?”
“Not everything is business, Ada.” He leaned back a bit, like he meant to see my eyes, but I refused to look up. I wasn’t brave enough to face whatever emotions showed in his face. Good or bad could devastate me. “I’m nice because you’re nice.”
“No I’m not,” I said, laughing. I pressed my face against his chest, inhaling that clean and masculine scent that reminded me of fresh laundry and an early fall morning. “But nice try.”
Archer chuckled and I bounced against his chest. “Okay, I’m nice because you’re interesting and unique and I want to know more about you. How’s that? And I’ll admit I might have ulterior motives for encouraging you to head off to Nepal.”
“Oh?” I stilled, my hand curling in his flannel shirt to anchor myself. “Like what?”
“You’ll need a guide.”
I closed my eyes, smiling. “Who says I’d hire you?”
“I’m cheap.”
A laugh escaped before I could choke it back, and for a long moment I shook with trying to keep it in. I really didn’t want to encourage that kind of behavior. I managed to sit up, wiping under my eyes, and found him watching me with a bemused kind of expression. His hand slid from my back to my side, resting broad and strong at my waist. It felt natural, easy. Far too easy, far too quickly. What was this? What the hell kind of spell had he cast on me?
I added “are witches real” to the list of questions I had for Dragomir.
Maybe distance would help me find my good sense again. I was definitely not considering kissing him. Particularly since I could feel the painkillers breaking down my self-control. “I believe it. But I’m pretty broke, so… I might need to find the pro bono option.”
The beard almost hid a flash of teeth. “I take payment in a variety of ways, not just money.”
Well. What did he mean by that?
Just as I debated how to react, Archer leaned in close. His lips parted, just a few inches from mine. My eyes widened. Was he going to kiss me? Was he really going to kiss me after saying something like that? Nerves shivered through my stomach and heat flushed through me until I went light-headed. I needed that anchor back but didn’t dare steady myself on his arm lest it be misconstrued. Not that I ran in the other direction as our breath mixed and my heart pounded so loud he had to hear it.
I closed my eyes and braced to lose the rest of my mind.
“I meant,” he murmured, mouth brushing against the corner of mine. “A time machine.”
I blinked. Leaned back to stare at him.
Archer winked and tweaked the end of my nose. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
The emotional rollercoaster of being around him for any length of time would probably kill me from stress. I struggled to keep a straight face and a glare going, but when the dimple re-appeared, I gave up and laughed. Then I gathered what remained of my dignity and the few shreds of self-control. “I’ll keep that in mind. And at the risk of sending you into the gutter as well, I should probably turn in for the night.”
“Of course,” he said. Archer hopped up and helped me stand, holding my waist to steady me as the cast threw off my balance and I swayed.
I yawned and rubbed my eyes, dreading the hike across the cabin, then paused and looked back at the fireplace and the still-burning logs. “Damn. Could you get the bucket and we’ll douse it?”
“It’ll be out soon,” he said. Archer shooed me toward the bedrooms. “I’ll deal with it. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I eyed him. “How do I know you’re not going to steal a bunch of stuff?”
He snorted. “Because if I wanted any of your stuff, I would have taken it when I drove you back here and you passed out in my truck.”
Hmm. “Fair point.” I began the long, slow journey to where my too-old mattress waited. “Just lock the door when you leave, will you?”
“Key still under the mat?”
I smiled but didn’t look back. “Yep.”
Then I hesitated, bracing on the wall. My heart still beat too fast and I had no idea what I said or meant or did. The words came out anyway. “Thanks for dinner. And for… listening. It’s been a while since anyone bothered and I appreciate it.”
Archer smiled. “You’re welcome. Now go to bed before you try to seduce me again.”
“I what…? Now wait a minute…”
He started whistling as he crouched next to the fireplace, pretending he couldn’t hear my outrage, so I gave up and hobbled to bed. Not the best first date I’d ever had, but definitely not the worst.