Читать книгу A Husband To Hold - Cheryl Wolverton - Страница 12

It might be harder than he had thought, Mark mused, unnerved by the look on Sheriff Mitch McCade’s face as they stood in the middle of the main office.

“You’re doing what?”

Mitch McCade stared, slack-jawed at Mark.

“I said I’m going to need a leave of absence for a short time to map out the local areas…if that’s okay with you.” Mark shifted, cocking a hip as he waited for Mitch to answer.

Mitch slowly shook his head. “No, it’s not, Mark. You said you were taking Leah Thomas to map out the local areas.”

Every sound in the sheriff’s office died. Mark knew why. Every person had stopped to listen to the exchange between the two men. Mark scowled at his boss. “She needs someone to help her. And she’s paying me. It’s just a job.”

Mitch snorted. “It was the eyes, wasn’t it?”

“Mitch McCade!” Assistant Deputy Laura McCade, Mitch’s sister-in-law, yelled loud enough and with enough reproach to make Mitch flush and the entire office break into chuckles.

Glaring at his sister-in-law, Mitch said, “Stay out of it, Laura, or I’ll tell them all how you really ended up going into labor.”

Mark glanced over at Laura, who had turned the color of a rosy sunset. “Yeah, Sis, stay out of it.”

“Zach is going to hear about this,” she muttered good-naturedly.

“He’s my big brother but not my keeper,” Mitch said casually, smiling. Then he turned his attention back to the man in front of him. “Come with me, to my office.”

Mark nodded and followed his boss down the short, dark, narrow hallway. At twenty-nine, Mark was younger than Mitch McCade. The brawny man with the dark skin and hair spoke Spanish almost as well as a native speaker. After breaking a drug ring and discovering his former deputy sheriff had been the one running it in their area, Mitch hired his sister-in-law, Laura, the big-city detective, to assist him in the office.

Laura had finagled a job for her brother Mark.

Mark liked the job except for one small detail: it was what his father expected of him. After the way his father had raised them, Mark wanted nothing to do with that type of life. The memories were too harsh, too cold. His father had never been home and had been what was known as a hardnose both with work and with his family.

Still, Mark couldn’t help but hang around the Hill Creek County Sheriff’s Department since it seemed he had a natural knack for this sort of thing. Their boots echoed as they walked down the cracking linoleum floor.

Turning into Mitch’s office, Mark paused to close the door then dropped into a chair in front of the old wooden desk. It had been scratched up, used, abused, but still stood. Mark wouldn’t be surprised to find this was still the original desk from when this building had been built back in the late 1800s.

Mitch strode around his desk and sat down. Leaning back, he propped his feet up on the desk. Crossing his hands over his flat abdomen he said, “So, tell me what’s going on, Mark?”

Mark tossed his toothpick into the nearby dented metal receptacle and pulled out a small bottle from his pocket. Snagging a fresh toothpick, he slid it into his mouth before replacing the container within the confines of the material. “You know Leah, Mitch. Laura said with her baby duties and her stepdaughter, Angela, starting college she didn’t have the time to do a proper job of helping Leah out.”

When Mitch said nothing but continued to stare, Mark shifted in his chair and finally admitted, “You know how my sister is. She poured it on really thick how we just couldn’t let that poor fragile woman go out in the desert all alone, pointing out how many times I’d mentioned how helpless Leah Thomas looked.”

Mitch chuckled to Mark’s everlasting frustration. “She got to you, huh?”

“Just wait, Sheriff. My sister has been at me nearly thirty years. You, she only has been after a couple now.”

Mitch chuckled again.

“Besides, it was you she went with to the neighbor’s house.”

Mitch stopped laughing. “Yeah, well…your sister can certainly be sly when she wants to be. She was too far along to be running around like she did.”

Mark only smirked, not believing any of the story Mitch had. “You see why I want the leave?”

Mitch dropped his feet and leaned forward, resting his forearms on a stack of papers that lay haphazardly across his desk. “Partially. Let me ask you something else though, Walker.”

“Sure,” Mark agreed. “Shoot.”

Mitch studied him, his dark-brown eyes perusing every facet as if seeking a weakness or flaw. Mark didn’t like it when men did that. But with Mitch it was downright unnerving how well he could pick out the problems.

“You still running from God about some issues?”

Mark sighed. Dropping his gaze, he again admitted that Mitch had hit the head of the nail dead-on. “What does that matter?”

Leaning back in his chair, Mitch again crossed his arms over his abdomen though he didn’t prop up his booted feet this time. “If you’re still rebelling against your dad’s wishes out of pure stubbornness and using this as a way not to be around the job, yeah, it matters.”

“Would I have taken the job in the first place if I felt that way?” Mark demanded.

Mitch met his gaze never flinching as he replied, “Yeah, you would because you are one of the best natural detectives I’ve ever seen. You crave this work but at the same time detest it for what it did to your family. Now, if you’re going out to help Leah, that’s one thing. But if you’re simply vacillating again, then I’d suggest you not shortchange Leah that way.”

“Mais, non!” Mark said lapsing into Cajun French. Jerking the toothpick out of his mouth, he continued, “You are my brother-in-law, Mitch McCade, but you do not know what it was like and I will not have you trying to probe my mind.”

Mitch relaxed, a look of concern replacing his hardened flat gaze. “Listen, bro,” he said softly, using a shortened version of the Christian term brother, something he often did. “I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t worried. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have on the team here. But your heart isn’t in it. That can be dangerous. I’m worried about you. Laura is worried about you….”

“Are you going to fire me?” Mark asked, calming down and slowly forcing himself to relax.

Mitch snorted. “Yeah, right. When you’re worth as much as you are—even part-time. The only way you’re getting off this force is by quitting.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Mark muttered. After slipping the toothpick back in his mouth, he folded his hands across his stomach. “I don’t know what I want, Mitch.” Rubbing his hand down his face, he admitted, “I don’t know if I want to stay with this job or leave it.”

“You know what, Mark?” Mitch grinned. “Maybe this is exactly what you need. Time with Leah, who is so leery of police officials and men in general, will either convince you that you’ve got the right job or chase you away from it.”

“So many people come out here not wanting to talk about their past. She’s one of them.” He then continued, “She can be defensive all she wants. At least she’s protecting herself that way.”

Mitch cocked his head curiously.

Mark remained passive, refusing to allow his brother-in-law to see just how much Leah had affected him. Still, when Mitch nodded, with that speculative look filling his features, Mark had to wonder if he’d blown his cover.

“I think you’re right, Walker” was all Mitch replied. “Remember though, while you’re considering if you want this job, some people can simply walk away from it, but others are called. I think you’re called to this job, Mark. It’s in your blood and I don’t think you can turn your back on it, regardless of what you think. However—” pushing back from his desk, he stood “—six weeks’ leave of absence is granted.”

Mark stared, stunned. He hadn’t thought he would get that much when he’d requested it. He’d honestly thought Mitch would badger him into working half weeks or every other day.

“Six weeks,” he repeated, echoing Mitch.

Mitch nodded. “Yeah. Six entire weeks. I hope this is what you want and you’ll take time to find your heart while you’re out there, Mark. We’ll all miss you, but I really think this is God in the working.”

A spine-tingling sensation spread down Mark’s back at those words.

God in the working.

Those words echoed eerily inside him and as much as he wanted to deny what Mitch had said, he knew God’s ways were greater than his own ways.

“Whatever,” he said instead. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to run by the hardware store and then go make sure Leah knows I’ll be available starting tomorrow.”

Mitch grinned. “You do that. And give her my regards, too.”

Relieved the interrogation was over, Mark stood and strode toward the door. “You give your own regards, Mitch. I’ve got a job to do and that’s all I plan to do.”

Mitch’s deep rich chuckle followed him out the room, taunting him to keep that pledge of “business only” as he faced the sweet, gentle soul named Leah Thomas.