Haystacks and Hoaxes (Cowboy Brand of Justice #3)

Chapter 10 The Unraveling

Two weeks later

“ T hank you,” Mila told Decker the moment he climbed inside the armored Land Rover he was driving them to work in this morning. She smiled as she buckled her seatbelt. There were still so many things in her life that were messed up, but her relationship with her stepbrother was no longer one of them.

He grimaced as he clicked on his own seatbelt. “You say that every morning. Pretty sure you’ve thanked me enough.”

“It’s never going to be enough, Deck.” She drew a tremulous breath. “Mom and I owe so much to you and your dad. I might not even be alive if?—”

“But you are,” he interrupted. “And you’re the reigning MVP at Lonestar Security.”

“Whatever.” She chuckled at his insistence in calling her that. “I’m nothing more than a junior forensic artist in training, and everyone knows it.”

He raised his eyebrows at her as he backed from the garage. “What everyone knows is that the newest forensic artist on our team cracked Monty Chester’s missing persons case wide open.”

She blinked back happy tears as she relived the moment she’d watched Mr. Monty’s frail, too-thin body carried out of his home. The elderly farmer was an emaciated version of his former self. He’d been sealed inside his storm cellar to die, but he’d managed to survive on his latest brain child — a complex maze of PVC pipes warmed by a series of solar-powered black lights. It was a water garden he’d been experimenting with, hoping to figure out a way to produce crops year-round. Since the project was only in the experimentation stage, he’d been unable to harvest enough fruits and vegetables to keep himself sufficiently nourished. He’d been rationing out the meager provisions as long as he could. He’d been rationing out the stack of firewood, too, using each stick to send up the smoke signals that Mila had captured in her sketches. He’d lost all hope that he would be found in time, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying.

“I couldn’t have done it without Rock,” Mila declared fervently. Not just because of his impressive skills as a forensic artist, but because of the way he believed in her.

Decker grinned at the mention of her partner. “Are you guys officially dating yet?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “What do you think?” Though she was capable of singing Rock’s praises all day long as a forensic artist, she wasn’t ready to talk about their relationship yet. It was still too new, and they were still figuring it out.

“What I think,” her stepbrother retorted, “is that you’re as much in love with him as he is with you.”

“I am.” She saw no point in denying it. “Thank you for the way you handled that. Us.” The fact that she’d gotten a promotion and a pay raise out of it made her giddy every time she thought about it.

“As long as you guys keep things professional on the job, no one but Johnny will have a problem with the fact that you’re dating.”

“Why would he care?” Though she pretended innocence on the topic, she knew what Decker was implying. Johnny’s flirting had been flattering, but that was it. Nothing more.

Her brother shook his head at her. “As if you didn’t already know the poor guy had his hopes up in your direction.”

She spread her hands, chuckling. “I don’t think he’s going to have much time for dating after he purchases that dairy farm he’s been going on and on about. Unless he wasn’t serious about it.”

“Oh, he’s serious alright.” Decker kept a close eye on what was happening in his rearview and sideview mirrors as he drove down the mountain toward Lonestar Security.

“Where did he get the money?” Mila knew it wasn’t any of her business, but she was in the mood to be nosy.

“Same place Josh and I got our seed money to start Lonestar Security.” He glanced into his rearview mirror again.

“From bull riding?” That sounded like a stretch to her.

“Yep. As long as you win, it can be pretty lucrative.” He sounded distracted.

“What are you looking at?” She twisted around in her seat but couldn’t see anything besides the normal traffic behind them.

His jaw tightened. “There’s a black sedan following us.”

Uh-oh! She craned her neck for a glimpse of the vehicle in question as they reached the parking garage at Lonestar Security. He gave the gate attendant a quick description of the vehicle and asked him to keep an eye out for it.

“Sure thing.” The gate guard saluted Decker, and he drove into the garage to park the vehicle. Then he stuck to her side like glue while they crossed the parking lot and entered the building.

“No offense, but I can’t wait to get my life back,” she muttered as he held open the door for her.

“No offense taken.” He gave her one of his superior older brother smiles.

“I think you enjoy smothering me.” Not that she wasn’t grateful that he and Chanel had given her a safe place to crash, but she genuinely missed her independence.

“I’ll admit I’ve enjoyed getting to know you better.” He winked at her. “Gwen sure enjoys having an aunt, too, in case you failed to pick up on that.”

His words turned her insides to a gooey marshmallow. “She’s such a cutie!” A bit of a diva with her many princess dresses and toys, but having a clothing designer for a mother was probably to blame for that. One who was a former Remington, at that.

“She’s as beautiful as her mama.” Decker couldn’t have sounded happier about it.

As they stepped closer to the office area, the sound of sobbing reached Mila’s ears. She frowned up the long tile hallway, mentally tracing the sound to the front of the building.

Johnny Cuba skidded around the corner and jogged in their direction. “There you are!” He sounded relieved.

“What’s going on?” Decker instinctively stepped in front of Mila.

“You’re not gonna believe this.” The dark-haired cowboy halted in front of them, skating the last few steps in his boots on the freshly polished tile. “Troy Bentley’s girlfriend just showed up at the receptionist’s booth. I’ll take you to her.”

Decker’s scowl deepened. “What does she want?”

“To speak with Mila.” Johnny motioned for them to follow him.

“Over my dead body,” her brother snarled. “Where’s Hawk?”

“Here, boss!” The tall, dark Native American hurried down the hallway from the direction of the bodyguard pen. “Whatcha need?”

“To keep my sister safe. What else?” Decker stomped up the hallway, meeting him halfway.

Mila’s lips parted. “Helen of Troy wants to speak with me?” Ever since Johnny had called her that, the nickname had stuck.

“I’ll handle it,” Decker promised.

Hawk bustled her inside her new office, which was right next to Rock’s office. Before he could shut the door, she called out, “Morning, Rock!”

Hawk shut the door and leaned back against it.

A knock sounded on the other side only seconds later.

Hawk shook his head. “Tell your boyfriend to stand down until Decker gives us the all clear sign.

She dialed Rock.

“What’s up, darling?” He sounded engrossed in whatever he was doing, like she’d interrupted something.

“Hawk has me barricaded in my office until Deck says it’s safe to move around the cabin. He politely asks for you to quit knocking on my door until that happens.”

“I’m not the one knocking on your door.” Alarm leaped into his voice. “What’s going on? ”

“Helen of Troy is in the building,” she announced airily, “and she’s asking to speak with me.”

“Hoh, boy!”

Instead of waiting for them to answer the door, Decker burst into the room. “I’ve got Helen in the small conference room, and the police are on their way.” He gave Mila a reassuring look. “She’s unarmed. We checked. And she’s still yammering about speaking to you. Only you.”

Mila hastily spoke into the phone. “Gotta go!” She disconnected the line. “I’d be happy to meet with her.” She couldn’t imagine what the woman had to say to her after everything she’d put Mila through. At first, Mila had been livid. These days, she might actually thank her.

“We’re doing this by the book,” Decker returned flatly, “which means you aren’t going into the conference room until the police get here.”

It didn’t take long, and Mila was soon led into the conference room to face the sobbing Helen.

The moment her gaze fell on Mila, she started to stand.

“You need to remain seated, ma’am.” Sheriff Luke Hawling was seated directly across from the woman. He flicked a glance at Mila as he reached over to pull a chair out for her. “As I’ve stated before, you have a right to an attorney.”

“I don’t want one.” More tears gushed down Helen’s face. “I just want to confess…to everything,” she declared dramatically.

Confess? Mila frowned at Luke, but he merely nodded her into her chair.

“Why do you want to speak to Mila Kingston?” He trained an unblinking stare on Helen.

“Because I owe her an apology. A big one. A bunch of big ones.” The snarky bravado that had flavored the She Said column for years was gone. In its place was a nervous, contrite creature with red-rimmed eyes and a green flannel shirt she kept tugging down in the front. A suspicious bulge rose from her midsection.

Mila sank into her chair. “You’re pregnant,” she declared quietly.

Helen nodded, shoving a handful of limp brown hair over one shoulder.

“Troy?” The question flew from Mila’s lips before she could call it back.

Helen nodded again. “It’s why I had to come forward. It was one thing to help him bend a few rules when we were only dating. It’s another thing entirely to do it with a baby on the way. I’m afraid,” she admitted, pressing a hand to her blooming belly. “For my life. And hers.”

For a second or two, Mila feared she was going to be sick. Helen’s pregnancy was so far advanced that she and Troy must have been together when Mila had still been engaged to the guy.

“I never signed up for murder,” Helen continued in a dreary voice.

Mila sat there, stunned, while Helen vomited out the truth —all of it. In a nutshell, Troy was the one who’d embezzled funds from his parents’ car dealership years ago. Not Carla Kingston. He’d only made it look that way to give his family a reason to press charges against her. They subsequently dropped the charges after they’d blackmailed her into investing her oil royalties in the overseas shell account that had been posing as a global mutual fund. Carla hadn’t known who was blackmailing her. However, she’d remained complicit in the scheme out of fear of going to jail.

Only after the Bentleys had discovered the shares would soon pass to Mila did they press Troy to make a play for her romantically. It had almost worked.

Mila shivered at how very close it had come to working. She’d literally been about to walk down the aisle when word of Troy’s unfaithfulness had reached her.

After she’d broken their engagement, Troy had flown into a drunken rage and accosted his Uncle Monty at gunpoint, demanding his inheritance early. When Monty Chester had refused, Troy had locked him in his storm cellar and entombed the whole shebang in concrete. Then he’d gone on a rampage to make Mila pay for her refusal to marry him. If she was gone, her oil shares would remain in her mother’s name, and he could continue to blackmail her for the royalties.

He’d gotten so careless and reckless that Helen had talked her brother into serving as an imposter for Pat, the maintenance man. Her brother was the one who’d sabotaged, then repaired the walkway outside Mila’s apartment. He’d also planted the bomb-making evidence in Carla and Chet’s home to implicate Mila’s mother. At the time, Helen had been willing to do anything to keep the father of her child out of jail.

But the further Troy had sunk into alcohol fumes, the greedier he’d become. It had no longer been enough for him to steal Carla Kingston’s royalties. He’d gotten a taste for more. He’d wanted his uncle’s royalties, too.

“I’m sorry.” Helen pinned a beseeching look on Mila. “Please believe me! I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Not Monty Chester. Not you.” She shook her head wearily.

Mila’s breath seeped out of her. “You didn’t think the blackmail was hurting my mother? Or the attempts to end my life were hurting me?” She’d almost died, for pity’s sake! More than once! “You helped frame my mother for crimes she didn’t commit. She was arrested!” And she’s no longer speaking to me because of it . The emotional fallout was something her family might never fully recover from.

“You’re right.” Helen spread her hands. “I wanted you to pay for taking Troy away from me.”

“He was a predator,” Mila gasped. How could the twisted woman sitting in front of her blame her for that?

“I know that now.” Helen pressed both hands to her belly. “And I’m sorry for it. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. That’s why I’m trying so hard to make things right.”

Luke Hawling leaned across the table to insert himself between the two of them. “Helen, do you have any proof that Loretta Bentley and her husband were involved in Troy’s criminal activities?”

“Enough to bury them.” She gave a mirthless laugh. As it turned out, Mr. and Mrs. Bentley were the ones behind the oil equipment robberies at Canyon Creek Petroleum. “They almost got caught transporting one of the pumpjacks away in pieces.” She waved her hands in agitation as she explained. “They ended up hiding the parts beneath the hay huts at Mr. Monty’s place next door, just until the heat died down.” Over the next several days, they’d sold the equipment on the black market to make a quick buck. “All except the last two pumpjacks they stole right before Christmas.” She gave the address of the warehouse the Bentleys were holding them in until a buyer could be secured.

“Then they had me publish the story about the thefts to drive down the price of shares in Canyon Creek Petroleum so they could use the royalties Carla Kingston had been sending them to buy even more shares.” By then, they’d set their sights on a majority holding in the company, an accomplishment that wouldn’t take place until Monty Chester’s oil shares were transferred into Troy’s name. “He would’ve died eventually,” she concluded in a hushed voice. “I don’t know why they got so greedy.” She dropped her head on the table and muttered her parting gift to them — the name of the hotel in an adjoining town where the Bentleys were hiding.

She was led away in handcuffs. Before nightfall, all three Bentleys were arrested, and the charges against Carla Kingston were dropped.

The nightmare was over, but that didn’t mean Mila’s family got to walk away unscathed. The damage had already been done — years’ worth of it.

She texted her mother off and on for the rest of the evening. There was still no response.

The next day

Mila woke up with a headache and had to pop a few pain pills to get moving.

“Happy Birthday, Mila!” Her brother came up from behind her to give her a bear hug.

Yeah. Happy stinking birthday to me! She couldn’t have felt less like celebrating. “I don’t want flowers or any gifts that come in boxes,” she grumbled. “Honestly, Deck? I just want to return to my place. It’s safe for me to go back, right?”

“Yep.” He gave her another bear hug before letting her go. “I’ll help you move all your plant babies back this evening. Your boyfriend said he’d help, too.”

She twisted away from him. “Who says he’s my boyfriend?” She didn’t recall announcing to anyone yet that they were officially dating.

“He did.” Decker snickered. “Quit being so cranky. It’s your birthday.”

“Then I can cry if I want to,” she teased, quoting the lyrics to an oldie but goodie pop song.

“Well, it’s my job to dry your tears.” He yanked a paper towel off the holder and stalked menacingly in her direction.

“Says who?” She ducked away from him, nearly spilling her coffee. It wasn’t fair that he looked so put together this morning in his gray slacks and white dress shirt, while she was still fighting yawns and mental sluggishness.

“I’m your big brother,” he reminded loftily. “It’s my job to look after you.” He grinned over his shoulder at his wife, who’d just entered the room.

“Chanel!” Mila sent a look of protest at her sister-in-law. “A little help? Since you married the guy, he’s supposed to be your problem.”

“At the moment, he’s your problem. I wouldn’t think of horning in on a family moment.” Chanel moved to the fridge, looking like a million bucks in an ivory maternity sweater dress that hugged her slender curves and growing baby bump. She poured herself a glass of milk and sipped on it.

“That’s it. I’m moving out. Today, in fact.” Mila muffled a laugh as she watched Chanel make the mundane task of sipping on milk look elegant.

Her sister-in-law didn’t look the least bit ruffled. “Not before we celebrate your birthday, chickadee. We have plans,” she announced dramatically.

Mila’s lips parted in surprise. No wonder her brother had been trading cagey looks with his wife. Probably for the same reason they looked dressed to go on a hot date. Whereas I am not. She glanced in dismay down at the sweatpants she’d slept in and the fuzzy slippers she’d jammed her feet into before padding down the hallway. “Whatever you have in mind, can I go dressed like this?”

Chanel looked so alarmed that Mila burst out laughing. “I’m kidding,” she chortled. Her sister-in-law’s expression had been priceless, though.

“Go. Change.” Decker steered her toward the massive arched doorway leading to the massively long hallway. “Your man will be present at the party, if that helps you decide what to wear.”

“Party?” Consternation clogged her throat. “Sorry, champ. I’m not in the mood for a party.”

“Then get in the mood.” He gave her a playful nudge to get her moving.

“And to think I spent the last few years wishing my older brother would pay more attention to me!” Mila stomped toward the guest room with her coffee still in hand.

“Love you,” Decker called after her.

She shut the guest room door without answering him and took her time drinking her coffee before getting dressed. On the upside, her brother’s shenanigans had put her in a slightly better mood, not that she was about to admit it to him. He had a big enough head already.

There was no way she could compete with Chanel Supermodel Kingston with her outfit, so Mila didn’t even try. She tossed on a pair of stone-washed jeans with a bit of grunge at the knees — boot cut style so she could pair them with her most delicious pair of cowgirl boots. The caramel colored beauties with ivory floral stitching had been a gift from her mother last Christmas.

Mila pulled on a warm, cable knit turtleneck sweater in the same shade of ivory. Then she added chunky gold jewelry and the tiniest touch of makeup, only enough to take the shine off her nose.

Stepping into her mom’s gift, however, had made her slide back into her funk from earlier. As she finished applying makeup, she sent her parent a silent plea. Please, please, please answer my messages, Mom! Mila was worried sick about her. Knowing her mother’s penchant for drama, she was probably still coming out of shock. But still. I just need to know you’re okay, Mom. After discovering all her mother had been through since becoming a widow, Mila had been drowning in guilt. She hadn’t made her mother’s life easy, not even a little. She’d been a moody, rebellious kid who’d turned into a moody, rebellious teen — purposely misbehaving because of the attention that came along with it. But I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll give me the chance.

In a burst of desperation, she slid to her knees beside the guest room bed, tipping her head against the soft white comforter. “Please, God,” she murmured. “I need You today. My family needs You. We’re a very needy bunch.” They didn’t deserve special treatment, but God already knew that. She’d been reading her Bible more lately and had been touched by all the references in it to her Heavenly Father.

“I especially need a father,” she added in a choked voice. Bless her stepfather’s heart! She’d never given him much of a chance, either. She’d been too busy resenting him for not being her real father, which was completely unfair. The way he’d stood by her mother during her darkest hours had cast him in a whole new light. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated Chet Kingston. Help me be the daughter he deserves.” The guy had been under no obligation to marry her mother or adopt her sullen daughter, but he had. He was kinder and more generous than she’d ever given him credit for. It was time to start acting like it.

A gentle knock on the door made her curl to her feet. “Coming!”

To her surprise, little Gwen awaited her on the other side.

“Sweetie!” Mila stooped down to hug the child. “What are you doing here?” She looked adorable in her favorite pair of red velvet overalls that she wore every chance she got, even though Christmas was over.

“Party.” Gwen lifted her chubby arms in the air. “Mila Rabbit.”

“Oh, you sweet, sweet thing!” Mila lifted the child and was rewarded with a squeeze hug accompanied by lots of grunting from the effort it took. She danced into the great room with Gwen in her arms. “We’re ready to go,” she sang out, prepared to go to battle with anyone who told her she couldn’t bring Gwen along.

For an answer, Chanel bustled into the room with a fluffy quilted red and white velvet coat that was a perfect match to Gwen’s outfit. Knowing her, she’d probably designed it herself. “Arms out, baby girl.” She made a game of bundling Gwen into her coat, which Gwen somehow accomplished without hopping out of her aunt’s embrace.

“Never mind about moving out,” she muttered as she helped buckle Gwen into her car seat. “I’ll miss this kid way too much, unless…” She stepped back, wagging a finger at her brother and sister-in-law. “Unless you agree to visit me as often as I visit you, so I don’t lapse into a severe case of niece withdrawal symptoms.”

“That can be arranged.” Chanel smiled warmly. “I might even hit you up for some babysitting after the baby arrives.”

“Oh, please, do!” Nothing would make Mila happier. “Any time.”

Gwen entertained them by singing Old McDonald Had a Farm in a childish off-key voice for most of the drive. Where she didn’t know the words, she made them up or simply hummed along. Mila’s sides hurt from laughing by the time they arrived at their destination, which turned out to be Gage’s farmhouse. Go figure.

Johnny’s black Jeep was out front, along with Rock’s pickup truck. Mila’s heart raced at the thought of seeing her favorite soldier again.

Gwen reached for Mila again, but Decker elbowed her out of the way. “My turn.” In no time, he had his daughter on his shoulders. She giggled and clung to his head while he galloped her up the porch steps like a pony.

Rock pushed open the door and ushered Decker and Chanel inside. Before Mila could follow them, he stepped outside, blocking her path with his broad shoulders.

“There’s an entrance fee,” he informed her huskily, sweeping off his Stetson and placing it on her head.

“You’re charging me on my birthday?” Her heart raced as his hard mouth descended toward hers.

“Oh, it’s double the normal fee on your birthday, darling.” He captured her lips in a soul-stealing kiss. “Happy Birthday, Mila.” He brushed a warm thumb down the side of her cheek. “I love you more today than I did yesterday.”

“Is that what has you so worried?” She detected an inexplicably anxious gleam in his eyes.

“Nope. The folks who showed up right before you did are what have me worried. ”

Mila’s hands tightened on his shoulders. “Whatever’s going on, just tell me. I’ll still love you.” She was unable to hold back a mischievous smile. “More than I did yesterday,” she added in a teasing voice. It earned her another kiss that nearly made her swoon.

“Ahem.” Decker’s voice wafted their way through the screen door. “Got some other folks wanting a little face time with my sister, lover boy. You know, since it’s her birthday and all.”

“Feel free to ignore his nastiness,” Mila cut in hastily, “because I’m moving back to my place this evening.”

“Can’t.” Rock tweaked her nose. “He’s my boss. Yours, too.”

“Thanks for the reminder. Happy birthday to me,” she groused mockingly. She stalked ahead of Rock into the house.

“Surprise!” The room erupted into cheers and clapping, although the event was no longer a surprise.

Mila’s answering laughter died in her throat as she caught sight of the two guests Rock had mentioned. Her mother was standing at the far end of the room near the fireplace, looking woefully uncertain. Her wine-colored tunic sweater and black jeans exuded a festive overtone that wasn’t reflected in her teary gaze. Chet had an arm slung loosely around her shoulders, whispering something in her ear that was making her swallow hard and nod.

“Mom!” Mila’s voice hitched. “Dad!” It was the first time she’d ever called her stepdad that, but it had slipped out on its own. It was so good to see them that she sailed across the room. All other thoughts flew from her head as she launched herself into their embrace.

To her unending joy, their arms automatically came around her .

“Are you okay, Mom?” Mila’s voice was ragged from days of pent-up worrying.

“I am now.” Her mother squeezed her so tightly that it was hard to breathe. “I was afraid I’d lost you,” she quavered. “After all the mistakes I’ve made and the secrets I’ve kept from you.” A sob ripped out of her. “And your inheritance that I almost let that horrible family swindle away from us.”

“You’re never going to lose me.” Mila was crying so hard that it was hard to form the words. “And I don’t care about any dumb oil shares. I just need you to be okay.” She needed their entire family to be okay. There was no price tag to put on stuff like that.

“I’m okay.” Her mother was crying hard enough to make her mascara run. “Especially now that I know you haven’t replaced me with your favorite brother and sister-in-law.”

“Never!” Mila couldn’t believe a woman her age had wasted time worrying about something so ridiculous. She struggled to regain control of her emotions. “There’s room in my heart for every one of you.” She caught her stepdad’s eye as she spoke and was rewarded with a crooked grin of appreciation. “Granted, my favorite niece might be taking up a little more than her share of space. Oh, Mom!” Mila gave her mother’s shoulders a gentle shake. “Gwen is too precious for words!” It sort of killed her that their family had been estranged for the first two years of the kid’s life.

Hearing her name, the little girl toddled Mila’s way to throw her arms around her leg. “Mila Rabbit,” she announced proudly.

While Carla Kingston cleaned up her mascara with a tissue, Mila happily explained her new title. It brought a round of laughter from those gathered, which preceded a string of birthday festivities. Ella had baked her a cake. Johnny had composed her a silly poem that didn’t rhyme very well. It was still hilarious, though. Then came the gifts and cards.

Despite her mother’s arrest, Mila’s parents had brought her a set of hand-painted kitchen plates in bright, cheerful colors from the Bahamas.

“I love them!” She blew kisses to her mom and stepdad.

Decker gave her a designer sketchpad with a leather cover that she doubted he’d purchased in their small town. He must have special ordered it. Chanel had custom designed a breathtaking dress in white tulle with a cascade of ruffles that came to Mila’s knees when she held it up in front of her. The hem of the dress swept nearly to the floor in the back of it.

“It’s to show off your boots,” Chanel explained. What she didn’t bother explaining was why it looked so much like a wedding dress.

“Wow! Thank you!” Mila didn’t dare look at Rock to see what he thought of the lovely dress. She carefully folded it back into its equally lovely box.

He’d saved his gift for last. As she unwrapped the oblong bundle, she was amazed to discover that he’d wrapped the beautiful vintage box that he’d shown her during her job interview.

She ran her fingers over the ox horn clasp and intricately carved beechwood, then raised her shining gaze to his. “You said there was a story behind the box that you would tell me someday.”

His dark eyes glinted with adoration at her, making the edges of his eyes crinkle. “It’s the only thing Gage and I have left from our birth parents. Our dad supposedly made this box. ”

She fingered the delicate carvings. “Then you can’t give it away.” She handed it back.

“Open it first,” he coaxed.

She ever so carefully lifted the lid. Instead of the collection of pencils that had been arrayed inside it before, a single item nestled there — a glittering diamond solitaire.

“Rock?” Mila’s eyes widened as he took a knee in front of her.

“We’ve only known each other for a little over three weeks.” He took her trembling hand in his. “It was probably the toughest three weeks of your life, but it was the best three weeks of mine. You’re the one,” he announced with his heart in his eyes. “The one who believed I could walk again without a cane. The one who captured my heart. The one I fell in love with and want to marry. I know it’s a lot to ask. If you’re not ready, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.” She squeezed his hand, silently begging him to stand and take her in his arms before her knees finished giving out. “My answer is yes.”

Amid the cheering around them, he stood and slid the diamond solitaire on her finger. Then he laid the heirloom box on the coffee table and dipped her in a celebratory kiss that Decker covered his daughter’s eyes for.

Their gathering of family and friends couldn’t resist adding Lonestar Security’s latest win to their celebrating. They’d played a big role in wrapping up what the police were now calling the Haystacks and Hoaxes case.

Decker gave an impromptu speech, giving a special shout out to his team members who were present, “Because of hardworking investigators like Gage, Rock, Johnny, and Mila, we’ll keep bringing our cowboy brand of justice to the deserving citizens of Heart Lake.”

Mila liked the sound of that. She especially liked the sound of teaming up with her favorite soldier to make it happen.

“When are you two lovebirds gonna set a date?” In true Johnny style, Johnny Cuba changed the subject so fast that it gave Mila emotional whiplash. While she recovered, he tipped up a soft drink and guzzled it all the way down.

“Well, um…” She gave Rock a wide-eyed shrug. He’d just finished proposing to her. They hadn’t exactly had the time to hash out potential wedding dates.

Rock slid an arm around her and tugged her against his side. “As soon as this gal is ready to start putting up with me for the rest of her life.” His hard mouth brushed her cheek. “I’m ready to call that realtor and put a bid on the log cabin you said you liked,” he muttered for her ears alone. “Assuming you don’t want to keep looking.”

“Oh, wow, Rock,” she breathed. No, she didn’t want to keep looking. “That place is my dream home.” And now that she had her dream guy in her life, she couldn’t wait to take their next big step together.

His arm tightened around her. “I’ll give my realtor a call today and see if she’ll give us the grand tour this evening.” Whether by accident or by design, he hadn’t bothered keeping his voice lower for the last part of his declaration.

“Did you say realtor?” Carla Kingston’s eyes snapped with interest and no small amount of alarm.

“He did,” Mila informed her sweetly, bracing for an explosion.

Her mother didn’t disappoint her. “Mila Kingston,” she gasped. “You just informed me that I have a wedding to plan, and now you’re adding a house warming party to the mix?”

“Maybe we could combine it with the wedding shower,” Mila teased, knowing it would addle her orderly mother even further.

“Perish the thought!” Carla Kingston’s eyes nearly rolled back in her skull. “I thought I raised you better,” she squeaked.

“You tried your level best,” Mila chuckled, finally understanding that the woman’s endless criticisms had been aimed more at herself than at her daughter. Every time Mila had acted out as a child or a teenager, her mother had likely taken it as a personal failure in the parenting department. And over-corrected the mistake. Big time. Ugh! Boy, they had a lot of mending and repairing to do in their relationship! Things were going to be better between them going forward, though. Mila could feel it in her bones.

Instead of turning red and getting angrier like she would’ve done in the past, her mother’s face stretched into a smile. “Thank you for calling me your mother.” She sounded hesitant. “I was so worried after you found out?—”

“You’ll always be my mom,” Mila interrupted firmly. “I know things weren’t perfect after Dad died.” Looking back as an adult, she could see that things had been the hardest on her grieving, financially strapped single mom. “But if you hadn’t been there to steer me through my orneriness, I wouldn’t have made it to adulthood.”

“Just for the record, I’m looking forward to having a mother-in-law.” Rock jumped into the conversation at just the right moment, keeping things from getting too serious. “Fair warning, though. I’ve been without a mom for so long that you’re gonna have your work cut out for you.”

“Oh!” Carla Kingston’s expression softened with wonder. Looking at a loss for words, she reached for her husband’s hand.

He took it and raised it to his lips, eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you’re aware, but your mother-in-law comes with a father-in-law. We’re a package deal.”

“With any luck, the whole lot of you can help keep my sister in line,” Decker announced from the floor, where he was stacking blocks for Gwen to knock over.

Mila pretended to throw something at him, and he pretended to duck.

Unable to dodge the center of attention for long, Johnny chimed in, “I could use a mom, too.”

Mila rolled her eyes. “I thought you had a mom in Wyoming.”

“But Wyoming is so far away,” he whined in a comical voice.

“Come here, you!” In an uncharacteristic show of merriment, Carla Kingston waved him over to her and Chet. “All I’ve ever wanted is this.” Her joyful outburst was muffled against Johnny’s shoulder as he enveloped her in a full cowboy squeeze.

“This is all I’ve ever wanted, too,” Mila murmured, sliding her arms around Rock’s middle. Family. Acceptance. Love. Today had turned out to be so much more than her twenty-fifth birthday. It had also been a day of miracles. A day of dreams coming true.

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Rock peeked over at Gwen to make sure she was still distracted with her blocks. Then he stole another kiss that wasn’t any less potent for its stealth.

It was cut even shorter by Johnny’s next question as he swung away from Mila’s mother. “I take it you two are getting married on the same day as Gage and Ella?” He shot a questioning look at Rock’s brother. “Due to that childhood promise you made each other.”

Mila blinked at Rock, not understanding .

“Back when they were kids,” Johnny rushed to explain, “they made a pact to marry on the same day.”

Carla Kingston, who was still standing beside him, parted her lips but no sound came out. She’d finally been struck speechless.

Laugher bubbled inside Mila as she shot an accusing glance at Johnny. “If you keep talking, my mom is going to require CPR.” He was entertaining, though. She’d give him that. As she smothered her laugh against Rock’s shoulder, his expression made her grow still. No way! “It’s a true story, isn’t it?”

“We can do this.” Her mother finally found her voice again, albeit a thready version of it. “It’ll take time, but?—”

“How much time?” Johnny demanded, swinging in her direction.

“Johnny!” Mila protested.

He waved her into silence. “Mrs. Kingston, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to boot the Hefner men off the playing field. The rest of us single guys will never stand a chance until they’re good and married.”

More laughter accompanied his claim. Usually, it was impossible to tell if Johnny was being serious, but the fumes of love must have heightened Mila’s sensitivity today. She was pretty sure she detected an underlying note of envy in his impassioned declaration.

Watch out, ladies! Whoever was crazy enough to date a thrill-seeking, attention-hogging jokester like Johnny Cuba was in for one wild ride.