Chapter 8
Archer
Despite Toby the Terrible’s presence at the Yuletide bonfire, the event was a success. Most of the town came out, and the selection of precut trees in the barn was growing limited.
After making sure the fire was burning brightly, the wood was stocked, and everyone had what they needed, I slipped in through the back door of Hodge Podge for a little reprieve. I used to be a people person, but now I mostly wanted peace. And in my experience, people weren’t all that peaceful.
The scent of woodsmoke clung to my clothes as I walked into the kitchen, looking to the spot we’d made up for Marlowe earlier in the day.
He whined excitedly, tail beating against the dog bed piled high with blankets, as his ears quivered.
“Hey, boy,” I greeted, heading right toward him. Dogs were just so much simpler than people.
At the sound of my voice, he jumped up and limped forward, tail still wagging.
“Easy now,” I murmured, quickening my steps to get there faster. “You’re supposed to be resting that leg.”
Scooping him up, I carried him back to the dog bed while he sniffed my face and dragged his tongue across my cheek and nose. “Dog breath,” I muttered, placing him down.
Still excited, he bounced around, not wanting to lie down.
“Sit,” I commanded, and when he listened, I scratched behind his ears.
After a few more moments of scratches and pets, I instructed him to stay and wandered over to the fridge. On my way, I snagged a Christmas cookie off the counter and shoved the entire thing in my mouth while I grabbed a sandwich and carried it back over to the dog bed.
“There room for me?” I asked Marlowe and sat down beside him.
He rolled onto his side and laid his head in my lap, looking up at me with pleading eyes as I unwrapped my food.
“You’ve probably eaten more than me today,” I told him, taking a big bite.
He watched me chew, and I felt like I was suddenly in the middle of one of those heartbreaking commercials about neglected animals.
Sighing, I broke off a chunk of meat, cheese, and bread and tossed it to him. Marlowe snatched it out of the air and swallowed it without chewing.
“Did you even taste that?” I wondered. “What a waste of good eats.”
He continued to stare hopefully as I ate, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I couldn’t hide in here forever, but there was nothing wrong with stealing a few quiet moments to myself.
Running into Toby this morning had been a surprise. Having him show up to harvest the mistletoe was downright shocking. Especially since the last time I saw him—
“Now in here is my kitchen.” Mom’s voice floated into the room. “And where I make all the stuff we sell out front—oh,” she said, stopping when she saw me. “Archer, what in the world are you doing sitting in the dog bed?”
“Hanging out with Marlowe,” I said like it was obvious.
Movement behind her made me do a double take, the sandwich in my mouth turning to sand when I saw who was with her.
“What are you doing in here?” I demanded. Geez, I didn’t see the guy for ten years, and suddenly, he’s everywhere.
“Trying to avoid you,” he shot back. “Figured you’d be chopping down a tree somewhere.”
“For heaven’s sakes. What is wrong with you two?” Mom wondered as Marlowe got up to rush over to greet them.
“Marlowe, come back here and lie down,” I called.
He ignored me and danced around Mom’s feet until she scratched behind his ears enough, and then he turned to Toby. I expected him to be leery. After all, the only time he’d met him was this morning when Toby was giving him a shot and tending to his paw.
But when Toby sank to his knees in front of Marlowe, his entire back end was wiggling—Marlowe’s, not Toby’s—and he let out a little whine.
It sounded a lot like betrayal.
“Marlowe, hey, buddy.” Toby greeted him, setting aside the red cup from the hot chocolate stand to bury both hands in his fur to scratch him. “I’d ask you how you are, but I can see you are being spoiled and well cared for.”
Marlowe licked him across the face, and Toby laughed. “Do I smell like chocolate?” he asked, swiping the end of his nose with the sleeve of his jacket.
In yet another act of betrayal, Marlowe flopped down on the floor, showing Toby his belly. Toby laughed, the sound creating an instant ache inside me. Even though I hated it, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the sight he made leaning over my hairy dog to lavish him with attention.
He looked just as I remembered, with floppy brown hair that wasn’t quite curly but definitely wasn’t straight.
His eyes, the color of the hot chocolate he was drinking, were currently crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at Marlowe.
He was still pale and clean-shaven, a forever baby face that put people at ease immediately.
He was about the same size too, maybe a little broader in the shoulders and, if anything, a little thinner than I recalled. I knew he worked long hours. I’d overheard his mother tell mine on more than one occasion. I had no room to judge, though, because my mother could say the same about me.
He was the literal definition of the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Because in the past decade, lots of things had changed.
Winterbury, Hodge Farm, my family… me. Hell, even as I sat here marveling at how he was the way I remembered him, I saw the differences too.
He was more comfortable in his skin, confidence giving him an edge that wasn’t there before.
And though his baby face was still intact, his jaw was more chiseled, the slope of his nose just a little sharper than before.
He still smiled so much, though. Smiling at literally everyone who approached him and charming them all. There was an openness to him that drew people in. He slid right back into the community as though he hadn’t even been gone at all.
That’s right. I kept an eye on him out there. Who knew what he was up to? Probably something. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.
He must have sensed my stare because his eyes flicked up before moving right back down. “Good boy,” he crooned, patting Marlowe’s belly one last time before grabbing his cup and pushing to his feet.
“His paw looks good,” he said, lifting the hot chocolate to his lips.
“Oh, snuck in a little exam there, did you, Dr. Thomas?” Mom said, clearly impressed.
“Toby,” he corrected. “Just took a quick peek. But be sure to give it a more thorough look when you change the bandage tomorrow.”
“We’re just so glad you were there to take care of him this morning,” Mom said, lifting the plate of cookies off the counter. “Cookie?”
“Did you make these?” Toby asked, looking over the cookies like it was hard to choose.
They were all exactly the same.
“They look incredible.” He went on.
“I did.”
Smiling, he plucked one off the platter. “Then I definitely can’t refuse.” I watched his lips close around the edge of the sugar cookie, teeth sinking into the frosting.
“Mmm,” he moaned around it. “No one makes a cookie like you.”
“The secret is in the spice,” Mom confided.
“Yes.” Toby nodded. “I’m going to have to stock up before I go back to Boston.”
My stomach soured, and I shoved up off the floor and stomped to the trash can. “Well, don’t let us keep you.”
“I’ll grab a few jars when I get a tree.” He went on as if I hadn’t just told him to get lost.
“A tree?” Mom asked.
“For the clinic,” Toby replied. “Dad hasn’t put one up yet.”
Mom tsked. “Come on. There’s not much else to see in here anyway. I’ll walk you out to the barn so you can get one before they’re all gone.” She paused. “Unless you want to cut one down? Archer, get a saw and go with him.”
“Why me?” I wondered.
She spun to face me. “You aren’t doing anything else,” she said as though I were some kind of freeloader.
Behind her, Toby grinned like the cat who ate the canary.
I scowled. “He can cut down his own tree.”
Planting her fists on her hips, Mom gave me a look. “Archer Hodge, it’s literally your job.”
“Ah, I actually just planned on getting a precut,” Toby said. “Going out into the dark woods with Archer and an ax gives Halloween vibes more than Christmas ones anyway.”
I glowered. “I did get a good jump scare when you came around the corner this morning.”
Mom turned to stare between us. “What on earth is wrong with you two? Even after all these years, you are still mad about whatever falling out you had when you were boys?”
We both went quiet and looked everywhere but at her or each other.
“What happened anyway?” It was the first time she’d asked so directly.
Our eyes snapped together, and even from across the room, I could see panic swirling in his.
“You know what?” Mom went on before I could come up with an answer. “It doesn’t even matter. It’s been so long, and you're both grown adults. It’s time to leave whatever it was in the past. You boys used to be such good friends. Can’t you get back to that?”
My throat was thick. The sandwich I’d eaten lay in my stomach like lead.
“Toby?” Mom pressed.
Couldn’t she see how uncomfortable he was, standing there like a deer in headlights? I admit, I liked seeing him squirm, but only when I was the one making him do it. “Mo—”
“I can’t be friends with him,” Toby blurted out.
The declaration decimated that lead in my stomach and left me feeling hollow. The rejection stung more than I expected. Obviously, I knew the animosity between us was thicker than thieves, but to hear him say that’s all there was? It hurt. More than it should have after ten long years.
“It just breaks my heart,” Mom said, the regret in her voice heavy.
“I—” Toby started, but Mom held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Tobias. If you two can’t get along, that’s fine. But it’s Christmas, and you’re both adults. You’re going to have to learn to be cordial.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Toby replied.
When I said nothing, Mom gave me the look.
Clearing my throat, I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”