Page 8 of Haystacks and Hoaxes

“Your choice.” Instead of opening the folder and returning the pen to her, he stood.

“The pencil is my weapon of choice.” She wasn’t worried about making mistakes or using the eraser as a crutch. She genuinely preferred sketching with the softertip of a piece of lead or charcoal. By insisting it was her choice, she could only assume Rock had a pencil to lend her.

Reaching for his cane, he thump-dragged himself to his desk. He rummaged in one of the drawers and returned with a vintage wooden box. The lid was held in place by an ox horn latch of tarnished bronze.

Mila swallowed a sigh. She dearly loved old things.

Rock took his time getting seated and carefully propping his cane against the side of his chair once again before opening the box. He angled its contents in her direction. A set of six graphite pencils were arrayed there in various degrees of lead hardness. They were labeled as 2H, HB, B, 2B, 4B, and 6B.

Nice.“Something tells me that beautiful box comes with a story.” She selected the 2B hardness, instinctively gripping her fingers and thumb directly above the shaved-off tip on the hexagonal-shaped pencil. “Someday, I’d like to hear it.” She moved the pencil over the blank page of her sketchpad, quickly outlining her brother’s sturdy frame.

“Someday, I’ll tell you.” Rock laid the pencil box on the far end of the table and leaned back in his chair, a move that felt deliberate. Though he was watching her like a hawk — she could feel it —he wasn’t hovering.

“I ran into Decker on my way into the building.” She rapidly drew her stepbrother’s expression of surprise and mild discomfort. He’d been even more caught off guard than she had by their encounter, which meant he hadn’t been expecting her. If he’d known about the interview at all, he hadn’t known she was the candidate that Rock would be meeting with.

Rock didn’t respond, but his silence didn’t feel mean-spirited or judgmental.

Sensing his curiosity, Mila kept talking while sheworked. “I was fifteen when my mom married his dad.” Deck was five years older than her. “By the time my mom dragged me kicking and screaming to Heart Lake, Decker had already been on the rodeo circuit for a couple of years. We never really got to know each other, but I’d very much like to change that now that we’re older.” There. She hoped it sounded like a reasonable explanation for why she and her stepbrother weren’t close.

He’d missed her high school graduation, her beauty school graduation, and her almost wedding. Though no one had come right out and said it, she’d gotten the impression that he hadn’t been too happy about his dad marrying her mom. She’d also gotten the impression that he hadn’t been any happier about his dad’s subsequent decision to move his blended family to Heart Lake, where Deck had built a new life for himself. They saw so little of him, though, that they might as well still be living in different towns. It was something Mila hoped to change. Soon. With this job, Lord willing.

The strokes of her pencil became heavier, darker, and more determined as she filled in the details of her sketch. When it was finished, she was staring down at a complicated man with a complicated past, one whose life had become indelibly intertwined with hers.

If someone had asked her why it was suddenly so important to pursue a meaningful relationship with her stepbrother, she would’ve struggled to put her reasons into words. Maybe it was because she had no memories of her biological father, who’d died shortly after she was born, or because she’d been raised by an impossible-to-please mother. Or maybe it was because she and her stepdad had never really clicked. Not that his travel schedule as a farm equipment salesman had given them much opportunity tobond. On the upside, her mother usually accompanied him, which gave Mila a much-needed break from her endless fountain of criticism.

Or maybe it was because everybody needed somebody. And now that Mila was no longer the recipient of Monty Chester’s kindhearted mentoring and encouragement, she was anxious to fill the void he’d left in her life.

Like it or not, I could really use a brother right now.She laid down her borrowed pencil and held out the hasty sketch to Rock.I know I’m the baby sis you never asked for, but here I am.She longed for more than a single, tension-charged family dinner at the Taj Mahal — a lot more, starting with his signature on the job offer in front of her.

Rock lifted her sketchpad to take a closer look at what she’d drawn. A satisfied expression spread across his face. “I’d like to add this to your file.” He glanced toward the door. “It won’t take long to run make a photocopy.”

She resisted the urge to glance again at his cane. They both knew he wasn’t running anywhere. “Just hang onto the pad.” She gestured at it with both hands. “Photocopies never look as good as the originals, and I really want this job.” She could easily go without it for a few days, since she had sketch books and pads coming out of her ears at her apartment.

His eyebrows rose expressively. “The job is already yours, Mila.” He set her sketchpad on top of the manilla folder. “That’s what all this paperwork is about.” Humor edged his voice.

Was it, though? She gave a quick up-down nod to acknowledge his words, wanting more than anything to believe him. “Assuming you get all the approvals you need, when will I start?” For now, it seemed prudent to play along and say things he’d expect a new employee to say.

“As soon as possible.” His jaw tightened as he glanced down at his cane. “They’ve been breathing down my neck to expand our new forensics team.” His tone indicated that the owners of Lonestar Security didn’t like how long it had taken him to reach this point in the hiring process.

The us-against-them feel of his statement only served to skyrocket Mila’s desire to be a part of his team. Slipping the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she pushed to her feet, eager to get out of his hair so he could get working on the final approvals. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to impress Rock Hefner, but her gut told her he intended to go to bat for her.

He stood and extended his hand. “Thanks again for coming in on such short notice.” His lips twitched. “And for accepting my job offer. Feels like an early Christmas gift.”

Her eyes widened in amazement. Not once in her life had anyone ever referred to her as an early Christmas gift. “It’s really nice of you to say that.” She shook his hand, so overwhelmed with gratitude that she felt close to drowning in it.

His larger hand gently engulfed hers. “I meant it.” Unless her overwrought imagination was playing tricks on her, he pressed her fingers a second or two longer than he had to before dropping her hand. There was also the possibility it had been so long since her last date that she was reading way too much into his simple words and gestures.

“Thanks,” she murmured, feeling like it was the safest response to his exorbitant kindness.

Rock backed toward his desk, miming the act of raising a phone to his ear. “I’ll call you as soon as I get your brother’s signature.”

His declaration felt like a needle prick to a balloon.Mila’s breath seeped out of her. She settled for giving him a nervous flutter of her fingers as she moved toward the door.

She pulled it open and blindly stepped into the hallway. A few steps later, she nearly plowed into Decker for the second time that day.

He smirked as he reached for her shoulders to steady her again. “We’ve got to stop running into each other like this.”

His words felt like a splash of icy water. “I don’t know,” she drawled. Her voice came out threadier than she intended. “Part of me kind of wouldn’t mind making a habit of it.” Her pride wouldn’t allow her to drop to her knees and beg him for the job, but there was no way he didn’t hear the pleading note in her voice.

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