Read Cattail Ridge Online

Authors: T.L. Haddix

Cattail Ridge (5 page)

Chapter Five

A
melia dragged the truth about his illiteracy out the next time she saw him, at the family’s Labor Day celebration. Once again, they were sitting on the incline watching John and Ben play with John’s children.

“So what do you do in your spare time?”

“This and that. Work on my truck, go target shooting.”

That surprised her. “
You
like to shoot guns? After you were
shot
?” She covered her mouth. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

Archer smiled. “It took me a little while to be able to put my hands on a gun again but yeah, I like to shoot. Long guns over hand guns. What about you?”

“I have a job, thank you very much. Just got it a couple of weeks ago.” Her eyes glowing, she explained that she’d fallen into the very part-time position by writing a letter to the editor of the local paper. “He was so impressed, he called. He about backed out when he found out I’m only seventeen but Daddy and I went in to talk to him. After I got into a heated debate with him over the merits of the candidates for the local school board and won, he caved. I’ll be doing a column every week. Maybe more if it works out. So what do you like to read?”

“I don’t read much,” he admitted with what he hoped was a casual shrug. He figured he had a low chance of pulling off the nonchalance, given how intuitive Amelia had seemed so far. He was right.

“Why not? Don’t you like books?” She was obviously shocked. Given the fact that her entire family seemed to have a love affair with the written word, Archer shouldn’t have been surprised.

“I don’t read very well. So I don’t enjoy it.”

She faced forward, giving a puzzled shake of her head. “Do you not enjoy it because you don’t do it well, or because you don’t like reading in general?” she asked softly.

“Do we have to talk about this?” He pulled up a piece of clover and twirled it around, focusing his gaze on the white blossom.

“Of course we don’t, not if you don’t want to. But if it’s something that bothers you, why don’t you do something about it?”

Her voice was quiet, not judgmental at all. That alone kept him from biting her head off. “What is there to do? I’m a grown man. I should be able to read but I can’t. Am I happy about that? No. But it isn’t like I can go back to school and ask to join the second grade again.”

Amelia was quiet, her chin resting on her upraised knees. “How is it that you can’t read?”

He heaved out a sigh. “My mom died when I was six. Dad had a hard time with it. A real hard time. For the first couple of years, we just drifted along barely keeping things afloat. Most of that was Logan keeping us sane. And I fell behind. By the time Logan figured it out, I was too far behind to catch up. Too proud to ask for help. I quit school when I was sixteen and went to work full-time at Dad’s garage with his best friend. We’d been running it together anyhow after Dad died. I’ve always been good at math, and I hid not being able to read.”

“None of your teachers ever noticed?”

He shook his head. “They were too full of sympathy. ‘Those poor Gibson boys, lost both their parents.’” There was bitterness in his voice as he remembered that smothering sympathy and he didn’t bother disguising it.

“So it isn’t that you have some learning disorder, necessarily, but that you didn’t get the instruction you needed. How well can you read?” Her eyes were narrowed and Archer could almost see the wheels turning in her brain.

“Is there a point to this interrogation?” He reclined on his elbows and looked up at her against the sun.

Amelia reached over and goosed him in the ribs, making him jump. “Yes, silly. Of course there’s a point. Well?”

He groaned and flopped back onto the ground. “I don’t know. I can read my ABCs, simple sentences, words, but it takes a lot. Just picking out a card for your sister a few weeks ago was torture.”

“I can’t imagine how hard life has to be and how many coping techniques you’ve had come up with in order to have hidden this for so long.” She sighed. “I work with Mom at the library as a volunteer for the literacy program. If you want to read I’ll teach you. But you have to want to learn.”

Her tone was serious. When Archer turned his surprised gaze to her there was no hint of a smile on her face. For the first time he saw her without the sunny personality in place, and he wondered then if that easygoing Amelia was a mask she wore. He sat up slowly.

“You mean that, don’t you?”

She scowled. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have made the offer if I didn’t.”

He looked away, over the pasture and beyond, across the lush green hills that rolled away from them. “I don’t know if I can join a program or not.”

“You don’t have to. We can meet outside the library. Maybe here. We’d have to meet at a minimum of once a week, though twice would be better. You should at least consider trying it. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. If you hate it you can quit. No harm, no foul. The only shame is in not trying.”

“Just how do you think your parents would feel about that?”

She shrugged. “They’d probably be a little overprotective. Mom has already warned me not to develop a crush on you, you dangerous older man.” The cheeky grin was back. “She likes you, but I’m her baby.”

Archer wasn’t unaware of the veiled scrutiny they’d been under. “You’re lucky to have her looking out for you.”

“I know. You think about it. The offer stands. I’d like to help you. I think I can. But it’s up to you.” She gave him a spontaneous hug and then bounded to her feet. “Let me know.”

Archer stood too, and with a wave for a watchful John and Ben, he headed for the barn and the fence row beyond. She’d given him a lot to think about.

A few minutes later, footsteps sounded in the grass behind him. Archer turned to see Owen Campbell himself heading in his direction.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Just needed a little air. I’m not used to such a rowdy crowd.”

Owen looped his arms over the top rail of the fence. “Seems like you and Amelia were having quite a serious discussion.”

He left it at that, turning a sharp gaze to watch Archer’s reaction. Deciding honesty was most certainly the best policy in this situation, Archer confessed.

“She wants to teach me how to read.”

Owen was taken somewhat aback. He frowned, and a hand came up to rub at his mouth. “She–you can’t read?”

“Just enough to get by and to fool people.” The admission was painful to make, and Archer would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some resentment at having to make it.

“Damn. I’m sorry.” Owen shook his head as though he couldn’t imagine not being able to read. Archer figured he probably couldn’t. “So she wants you to join the literacy program?”

“That’s one option. I don’t care to have my private business displayed in public, though. She offered to do it here, under supervision.”

“Is that something you’re interested in?”

Archer was a little surprised the idea hadn’t been rejected out of hand. “I don’t know.”

The older man didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. They just stood there side by side and let the late-summer day wash over them.

“She’s a good kid. If you want to learn, she’s probably one of the best teachers you’ll find.”

Archer half-turned to face him. “You can’t seriously want me underfoot that much.”

Owen’s grin was fast. “Jury’s still out on that one. But you seem solid enough. Seriously though, I’ll talk to Sarah but I don’t see it being a problem. I know what it’s like to feel inadequate because you don’t have the education or skills other people take for granted. I never went past the eighth grade. Got my high-school diploma via a correspondence course. But it wasn’t the same. The stigma’s still there, even if it’s just in my own mind.”

“But you’re a writer!”

“I am.”

Archer was speechless. Though he’d only met Owen Campbell a few weeks ago, the last thing he would have expected was to find out what he’d just heard. The man was too learned, too scholarly, to not have gone to college.

“No offense but bullshit.”

Owen laughed loudly at that. “You don’t believe me?”

“No. You’re too… No.” The idea was incomprehensible.

“Yours is possibly the most flattering reaction I’ve ever had to that confession. You’ve made my day, Archer. Possibly my week.” He sighed. “Most of the time it doesn’t bother me. I look at my family, at my books, and I know I’ve accomplished as much as or more than someone who had the educational opportunities I didn’t. But some days I’m that kid who had to quit school when I was in eighth grade because I was too different to stay in.”

“And this was one of those days?”

“Something like that.” Owen clapped him on the shoulder. “Think about her offer. We’ll make it happen if you want it to.”

They went back to the picnic then, and Archer considered what he’d learned. He watched the family through different eyes, seeing subtle little nuances that he hadn’t picked up on before. He’d known they were close but he saw now that they protected each other as much as they teased.

They weren’t perfect, he realized as Ben teased his sister Rachel to the point where she turned and lashed out at him. But he had no doubt that they’d circle the wagons and protect any member of the group if it became necessary.

“You seem awfully serious for someone who’s at a party,” Jack remarked as he came over. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just considering something. You’ve got a nice family here, you know that?”

“I do.”

“Thanks for inviting me up here.”

A tiny scowl appeared on Jack’s face. “You sound like you’re leaving.”

“No, I just appreciate that you’ve included me. I’m not used to people doing something for me without expecting anything in return and it means a lot.” He left it at that.

Jack rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Wait until you get to know us all a little better. You’ll be asking me why I got you involved with a bunch of loons.” He winked, telling Archer he wasn’t serious.

By the time the celebration ended late that evening Archer was close to making up his mind. He was fairly certain he was going to take Amelia up on her offer. He’d be stupid to not. And if there was anything his brother had tried to stress to him over the years it was that illiterate did not equal stupid. He’d be letting Logan and himself down if he didn’t at least try.

Chapter Six

A
fter dithering about Amelia’s offer for a couple of weeks, Archer decided to bite the bullet. The next time he saw her at one of the family’s regular Sunday dinners he told her he’d reached a decision. When he told her what it was, she cheered and jumped up and down.

“But can we keep it private? That you’re teaching me?” he asked, shushing her. He glanced around, relieved to see that no one in the family had noticed her enthusiasm. “Your parents will know obviously, but I’d prefer to let it just be the four of us. At least until we see if it’s going to take.”

Amelia squeezed his arm. “Of course. But you’ll do fine. I’m sure of it.”

The next few months were some of the most challenging and rewarding he’d ever faced. The learning didn’t go smoothly at first, to the point that he was almost ready to give up a couple of times, but then something clicked. Once it did there was no holding him back. Archer was reading everything he could get his hands on–magazines, books, fliers, cereal boxes, even. When Owen and Sarah seemed as proud of him as though he were one of their own children he didn’t know what to think.

The first time he was able to read one of Logan’s letters without help he actually cried. Not buckets of tears but he got a little choked up. For the first time in years he had hope that his future held something more than him being just a grease monkey. And for an instant he allowed himself to think about what that meant with regards to Emma. Only for an instant, though.

Some of the first books he read were Owen’s
Tobias Hedge
series. Middle-grade children’s books, they featured a young boy named Toby who was a shape shifter, and chronicled his adventures. Although Owen’s identity as their author was a fairly well-held secret, the family had confessed the truth to Archer once they saw how much he liked the books. The stories particularly resonated for Archer, though he couldn’t tell the Campbells why. Until he was shot he had been a shape shifter. His shift-animal was a mountain lion, as was Logan’s. The ability came down through their father’s bloodline.

After Candace had nearly killed him, however, the lion was gone. He hadn’t been able to change. Figuring he’d just needed time to heal he hadn’t tried again for a few months, but even then, he couldn’t shift. No matter what he tried, the cat was gone.

He’d grieved harder over that loss than the loss of his marriage.

His inability to transform was something he hadn’t told Logan about even though the assault was now three years behind him. His brother had a hard enough time dealing with the guilt he carried over the shooting, blaming himself for letting Archer marry Candace in the first place. It didn’t matter how many times Archer had insisted to Logan that he couldn’t have stopped the nuptials. So telling him the truth–that Candace had apparently killed the mountain lion when she’d shot him–was something Archer was putting on a far back burner.

One of the things Archer wondered about, however, was just how Owen had managed to get so many things right about shifting and what it meant to have an animal spirit that one could transform into. He had his suspicions, especially as he learned more about the family, but he didn’t have confirmation until one cold evening late in February. He and Amelia were having a lesson in their usual spot in the kitchen when Sarah came in from work, anger clear on her face.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Amelia asked.

“Your sister. She’s the most stubborn person I believe I’ve ever met, your father included. I need to change clothes. Hi, Archer.”

“Sarah.”

After she left, he and Amelia just looked at each other. Archer had never seen either Sarah or Owen more than mildly annoyed.

“Which sister do you think she means?” Amelia asked.

Archer shrugged and tried to answer as tactfully as possible. “Well, from what I’ve seen it could be either of them.”

She snorted as she stood and went to the stove to check the pot of soup she had going. “No, really? Not
my
sisters. They’re meek and pliable.” He nearly choked on his coffee, and she grinned. “You do have them pegged. Whichever one it is, she must have done something pretty obnoxious to get Mom that upset.”

He couldn’t suppress a smile. There was no way around the fact that Emma and Rachel were both very headstrong. Amelia was stubborn in her own way, but “obstinate” was probably the easiest way to describe her older sisters.

When Sarah came back in she gave him a brief hug. “I’m sorry for that outburst. I’m worried, and there’s nothing I can do about it. She’s a grown woman.”

“Which she?” Amelia asked as she accepted her own hug.

“Rachel.”

Amelia nodded slowly. “Let me guess–she has another migraine?”

“Of course. And she’s out of her medication, had to call me because she couldn’t get up with her doctor.”

Rachel was in school in Lexington, Kentucky, going for a master’s degree in history.

“All she has to do is shift and she wouldn’t get those headaches,” Amelia threw out casually as she sat back down. As soon as the words registered, she froze. So did Sarah. They both looked at Archer warily, only for an instant, and then Sarah rushed to cover up the revelatory statement. But Archer couldn’t unhear the words. They made too much sense.

“Rachel’s a shifter?”

The women exchanged a look. Amelia was biting her lip so hard Archer was afraid she was going to draw blood. He understood her trepidation. If the wrong person knew the truth it could mean a death sentence. He plunged ahead, hoping to relieve some of their tension.

“I was a mountain lion until I was shot. Now I’m not.”

Amelia’s eyes grew huge, but Sarah still maintained ignorance. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Archer picked up one of the
Tobias Hedge
books that was on the table. “I wondered how Owen managed to be so accurate. Who is Toby based on? Is it him?”

Sarah let out a shuddering breath. “Mountain lion, huh?”

“Yes. So is my brother. But if you could keep that between us and the fence post, I’d appreciate it. I’m sure you understand the danger if too many people know.”

“So you can’t change anymore?” Amelia’s voice was tentative. “At all?”

He shook his head. “They lost me three times on the operating table. I guess that part of me didn’t come back.” Not used to talking about his shifting abilities, he shrugged. He stood and went to the coffee pot to refill his mug and Amelia’s. When he saw the sympathetic looks the women were giving him he shuffled his feet, uncomfortable. “What?”

To his surprise Sarah was the one who spoke. “How did you… That had to be hard to learn to deal with.”

He carefully considered his words before answering. “Of all the things I had to come to terms with as a result of the shooting, that was the hardest, yes.” He lifted the lid on the pot and inhaled. “Soup smells good.”

They let him change the subject but when Owen came in a little while later for dinner Sarah pulled him aside. From the half-scowling study the older man subjected him to after that Archer figured she’d told him the secret was out.

He didn’t say anything until after the meal, when he grabbed Archer’s coat from a hook beside the door and tossed it to him, then grabbed his own. “Let’s walk.”

Owen let the silence build between them as they walked to the barn, which was situated across the mountaintop meadow from the house. Once there, he flipped a light switch on and slid the door closed behind them. The silence of the cold winter night was deafening. Archer faced him straight on, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I hear you’re not quite what you appear to be.”

Archer had to fight to keep his hands in his coat pockets and not defensively cross his arms over his chest. “And I’m inferring that you probably aren’t, either. Is that going to be a problem? My knowing?”

Owen studied him with a stare so hard and wary Archer was almost afraid of what his answer would be.

“If you are what you say you are, you understand why I’m a little upset. I have a family to protect.”

“Yes, sir.”

Owen scowled. “Stop that. You make me feel old when you ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ me.”

Archer’s lips twitched but he answered seriously. “I would never tell anyone what I’ve learned about your family this evening. I do understand the danger. Even when I was married, it was something I kept from her. I knew she wouldn’t understand. That probably should have been a clue that I shouldn’t marry her but I wasn’t exactly thinking with my head when I said my vows.” He felt his cheeks flush from more than just the cold.

“Sarah said you couldn’t shift anymore.”

“No. I can’t.”

Owen’s expression was full of sympathy and he laid a hand on Archer’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Archer picked at a small sliver of wood on top of one of the stall doors. “I’m still here for the most part. And that’s more than I should have had, given how she shot me. I have to remember that.”

“That’s a healthy way to look at it.” The older man’s voice was tinged with admiration and, if Archer wasn’t mistaken, some healthy skepticism.

“Took me a little while to get there,” he admitted.

“I can only imagine.”

They went back to the house soon after that and the conversation stayed on more normal topics for the most part. Amelia did confess to Archer that she was a shifter, as was Owen, and that her brothers also had special abilities.

“John is scary good with numbers and Ben has this thing with plants. Emma’s the only normal one of us.” She seemed to be waiting with bated breath for him to say something and groaned with disappointment when he just grinned at her. He knew from the way Amelia watched him when Emma was close by that she suspected something about his feelings for her sister, but he wasn’t about to open that can of worms.

As the years went by, the Campbells folded Archer into the family, making him one of their own. When he passed his GED test they threw him a surprise party. Amelia even presented him with a cap and gown and made him wear it while holding his framed certificate as they took pictures to commemorate the event and to send to Logan. They had cake, ice cream, and barbecue, and a house full of people whose sincere pride in his accomplishments was evident.

Sarah found him on the porch getting some fresh air a little while after the meal had been eaten.

“You seem overwhelmed. You okay?” She sat down next to him on the swing and smiled up at him. “It’s been a big day.”

He smiled back. “Very big. And yeah. It was just a little stuffy in there.”

“You don’t much like crowds, I’ve noticed. You remind me of Owen in that regard.”

“I never mind spending time with your family.”

Sarah laughed softly. “No, but they can be rather boisterous. I’ll leave you in peace.”

“You don’t have to go,” he protested, and she sat back down. “Besides, I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly yet, not just for today but for everything. I feel like this was as much your success as it was mine, and I don’t think I ever would have accomplished what I’ve done without you all. So thank you.” He had to clear his throat around the lump that was choking him up.

Sarah put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a hug, her own eyes a little misty. “We just provided you with the tools you needed, and the support. You figured out the rest. And we’re very proud of you, as I’m sure Logan will be, as well. Have you told him yet, that you passed?”

Archer shook his head. “I didn’t even tell him I was taking it. I’m scheduled to fly out there week after next. I thought I’d surprise him then.”

Logan had recently been stationed in North Carolina and Archer was looking forward to seeing him while his brother had some R and R time. They hadn’t been able to spend more than a day or two together since Archer had moved to Hazard two years earlier.

“One of these days you’ll have to bring him here. We’ve heard of him so often I feel like he’s already one of the family.”

“I’m hoping when he gets out of the Army he’ll come here and settle. But Logan isn’t really the settling down type, so it’s anyone’s guess if he will or not.”

“And what about you? What are you planning now that you’re able to take on the world? At least as far as the official channels are concerned?”

Archer knew she was referring to the fact that a person without a high school diploma or equivalence diploma was locked in to a certain subset of choices.

“I’m not sure. Pip keeps trying to convince me to join her at the community college.” Amelia had graduated high school the year before and when Owen insisted she attend college, she’d picked the small, local, two-year school. Owen hadn’t been particularly happy about that but he’d given in, conceding that it was her choice.

“You could keep her in line,” Sarah teased. They exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

“Yeah, because she’s such a trouble maker.”

She was a straight-A student, was on the Dean’s list, and while not an angel, was about as far from trouble as it was possible for someone her age to be.

John’s sons found them on the porch then and the quiet time was over. As the rest of the family eventually spilled out of the house, Sydney made a beeline straight for Archer.

“Up!” The dark-haired toddler held her arms up, her smile wide, one-hundred-percent confident that she’d be accepted. Archer obliged her happily, snuggling her close when she threw her arms around his neck for a hug.

“She adores you. Always has.” Sarah smoothed a hand over the little girl’s silky curls.

“I adore her. I keep telling Emma I’m going to keep her one of these days. Yes I do, pretty girl,” he told Sydney when she pulled back to laugh at him. He buried his face in her neck and blew a loud raspberry, making her dissolve in giggles.

He was more attached to Sydney than he knew was healthy. He figured it was only a matter of time before Emma would find a dependable man and marry him, and there’d be no room in Sydney’s life for Archer except as a doting uncle. Even having accomplished what he had, he didn’t feel like he was a viable candidate as a mate for Emma. No, someone like Burke Lockhart, the state trooper she was friends with, was more in line with the type of man Emma deserved. Burke was a single father, he worked close by Emma’s photography studio, and he was around almost as much as Archer was. Though he seemed like a nice enough man, Archer had grown to loathe the very sight of him. That dislike, much like his feelings for Emma, was something Archer hid away.

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