"No hiking trails where you live?"
Another odd expression crossed her face then, and once
again, quickly masked. She favored him with an ironic
little smile that zinged straight to his heart like Cupid's
proverbial arrow. Damn, he was treading on dangerous ground
here. If he were smart, he'd put an end to this nonsense
and some distance between them. If he were smart.
"No," she murmured, looking ahead once more, "no trails
where I live."
"City?"
"Not exactly."
Not exactly? How could you "not exactly" live in the
city? Micah shook the question away as he directed his
attention, and the conversation, toward her friend, several
feet in front of them now. "You know, I've got to wonder
why you needed us," he said. "Your friend seems to know
where he's going."
"I don't see how," she disagreed, her breath coming in
little pants as she negotiated the rugged terrain that
steadily rose into the azure sky. "I've never known him to
go for the hiking thing, either. This is a first for us
both."
"And how long have you known him?"
A telling pause, then, "Most of my life."
"Family friend?"
The question brought her up short. Literally. Stopping
in the middle of their makeshift path, she turned to face
him, a defiant expression on her face. Fascinating, he
thought as he mimicked her actions. His brothers, he
absently noted, didn't miss a beat as they strode along in
a semi-circle behind Jon, their attention focused upon him
and nothing else. And then it was just him—and her,
standing beneath the hickories and oaks.
* * * *
Shiloh waited for the others to put some distance
between them, watching as they did so, before she turned
her attention back to Micah. She was nearly undone by the
headiness of standing so close to him. Did the man have any
idea of his potency or was she the only one he affected
this way?
"Okay, you want to tell me what this is all about?" she
demanded, wrapping her arms about her waist in a defensive
gesture and to control her wayward longings, a vain
attempt.
"What?"
"This." She waved a hand between them in indication of
the topic. "The interrogation."
"It wasn't exactly an interrogation," he tried to deny.
The nerve of him!
"Oh?" she challenged. "You want me to count the
questions? Let's see—"
"Just making conversation. Something wrong with that?"
The fight whooshing out of her, Shiloh glanced toward
the disappearing trio before responding. "No," she said
and, grudgingly, "Sorry."
"Yeah." He kicked the ground between them with the toe
of his hiking boot, his frustration evident in the
gesture. "You sound it."
"I'm not used to people—well,
strangers—asking a lot of questions."
"If I'd known asking you a couple of questions would
upset you—"
"More than a couple."
"I wouldn't have asked them," he continued as if
uninterrupted. "What's your problem? Are you this skittish
with all people?"
"No, just you," she answered before she could think
better of it. She wanted to kick herself. What was wrong
with her? Might as well confess how he affected her, at
this rate. But at least he looked as surprised by her
candor as she felt.
"Lucky me," he said after a moment in which neither one
of them seemed able to talk. He looked away from her,
toward the slope of the wooded mountain. "We should
probably catch up with the others. Who knows where your
friend is headed."
"Not me." She fell into step beside him, grateful for
the less taxing pace he set. "He kept the map to himself.
He wouldn't let me see it. Like it was a treasure map or
something. Only thing I know is it’s hand-drawn. Well, hand
drawn on the computer."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Jon is a total computer geek," Shiloh revealed,
glancing his way. "Why draw with a pen what you can do with
a mouse?" She looked forward again, gave a little
shrug. "That's his motto, anyhow."
"And what's your motto?"
She didn't answer right away. No one had ever asked it
of her before. At length, she shrugged and told him the
truth. "I don't have one."
"No? I thought everyone had one."
To diffuse her unease, Shiloh turned the topic on
him. "So what’s yours, then?" She even managed a smile as
she warmed to the subject. "What is the Sloane family
motto? Live by the sword, die by the plague?"
With a chuckle, Micah said, "Not quite. Try again."
"The acorn doesn’t fall far from the oak?"
"Not even close!"
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
"What does that even mean?"
For the first time since they met, Shiloh shared a laugh
with Micah. "I don’t know! I always wondered that myself."
She paused for a moment before she dared to ask, "So what
is the Sloane family motto?"
"It changes depending on the situation, but the
prevailing one is ‘Family isn’t everything; it’s the only
thing.’"
"That’s nice." Before she could stop the thought from
reaching her mouth, she said, "I wish I had a motto like
that."
"So why don’t you?"
And they were right back to where they started.
Unease trickled down her spine at the question. She
flinched before she could check her response. Relax,
Shiloh, she cautioned herself, covering her reaction by
feigning interest in a moss-blanketed rock they passed. She
inhaled a few breaths before speaking again. "I don’t
know—not something we talk about."
* * * *
Why was she being so cryptic? Micah saw the way she
flinched at the mere mention of her family. He knew his
question, which seemed harmless to him, wasn't to her.
People didn't usually react like that, unless they had a
good reason. And although he hadn't known her for long,
Shiloh didn't strike him as the type of person who
overreacted to things. Well, at least not something like
this. The mystery of Shiloh Beck deepened.