Page 25 of Rhett

Rhett studies me like he believes I’m trying to pull one over on him, or like I’m going to suddenly change my mind, before he finally says, “Yeah. Sure. Do you want to see what I drew up?”

“Obviously.” I grin, which he returns, before heading for a table in the corner. He’s got a light over it, papers laid out. I look at his sketch of the shelved wall unit. “This will be a fireplace?” I ask, pointing to the square in the middle.

“Yeah. I’m going to put an electric one in. I used to use the room as a home office, but it’s nothing special. I want to make it more aesthetically pleasing but also more functional.”

“Think you’ll end up using it again?” I’m not sure what his plans are for the future. He went to a lot of schooling and spent many years building up a career, only to walk away from it.

“No. I’m done with that. Eventually, I might sell, though.”

My pulse throbs unexpectedly. There’s no real reason. Rhett can do what he wants, and just because he might sell his housedoesn’t mean he’s planning on leaving Birchbark. Still, I can’t help asking, “Are you thinking about leaving the area?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. The only time I’ve left was for college. I don’t know what’s out there.”

I can’t imagine Birchbark without Rhett. It’s strange how people can sometimes come to represent a place, and though I never would have thought that about Easton or Morgan, I do with Rhett. It bears down heavily on my chest, this weight that really shouldn’t be there. I try to cover my disappointment. “You’re not going to leave without giving me two weeks’ notice, are you?”

Thankfully, Rhett chuckles. “I can handle two weeks.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to fire you already.”

“I’ve never been fired from a job before…could be interesting. I’m turning over a new leaf and everything.”

The corners of my mouth pull into a grin. I like this playful Rhett. He hasn’t made an appearance before. “Uh-oh. Now I’m afraid you’re going to come in late or call off work half the time, just so you can see what it’s like to be a bad employee.”

He frowns, practically recoiling at the thought. The reaction makes a laugh tumble out of my mouth, partly because I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, and also because the idea of being late and calling off work appears scandalous to him, and that fits with who I think Rhett is.

“You can’t even joke about being irresponsible. Why does it surprise me you’re a workaholic?”

“I’m not a workaholic. I’m responsible. And how can I be a workaholic if I’ve been unemployed for months?”

I cross my arms and lean against the wall, watching him, enjoying our banter. “That doesn’t count. Now, are you really going to pretend you’re not an overachiever?”

He winces. “I thought I could do it, but I can’t. Even the thought of faking being late for work is making my brain spin.”

I smile in this strange way that feels both exciting and scary. Definitely new. “Don’t worry. I take my job seriously. That said, I also like to have fun, which means I’m gonna makeyouhave some fun, Rhett.”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t think you’re taking me as seriously as you should,” I tease.

“I think you overestimate my ability to have fun. Especially if it’s when I’m supposed to be working.”

Well, this won’t do. It won’t do at all. “That was before. I can’t imagine being a lawyer was a ball of laughs, but now you’re going to be doing the best job in the world. There’s nothing like the feeling of making things. Of crafting and creating and…” I look up and see him studying me, forehead wrinkled the way I’ve noticed it gets when he’s deep in thought. My fingers itch with the urge to massage them out, to find a way to help him relax and show him that he really can be fun, because I truly believe he doesn’t think he can be. But I also don’t want to scare him away. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so intense.”

“You’re not. That’s just me. And…” Rhett shrugs. “You’re passionate about what you do. That’s important.”

“Is now the time to apologize if I made it sound like what you were doing before wasn’t something to be proud of or excited about? That’s not what I meant. I could never be a lawyer. I can’t imagine the amount of work you put into—”

“I hated it.” He turns his back to me, then walks over to the saw and wood where he’d been working when I came in. “I hated it.”

Every puzzle piece of who I thought Rhett is has become a blank slate over the past few weeks. He’s confusing…and sad…and lost. I’m fairly certain Rhett Swift is lost.

And for a reason I can’t explain, I want to be there when he finds himself. “Why?”

He clears his throat, and I know the moment is broken. “Are you going to help me with this or talk all day?”

“I figure I’ll do both.” I walk over to him.

“What about Meadow? Do you need…”

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