Man on a Mission. Carla Cassidy
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She moved the suitcase to the floor and joined Mark on the sofa. “I want to thank you again, Mark, for your thoughtfulness,” she said.
He shrugged and smiled. “I’d be glad to get the rest of your stuff from the car. You’re staying— I mean, if you want to stay.”
“We can stay?” Brian jumped up from the table and looked at Mark hopefully. “Really and truly?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Mark replied solemnly. “You like horses?”
“Well, sure,” Brian replied. “But I don’t know much about them. But I could learn,” he hurriedly added. “Maybe you could hire me to help in the stables. You don’t have to pay me a lot, just some so I can help Mom.”
His eagerness caused an ache in April’s heart. Her little boy, trying so hard to be a man. He should be spending his summer vacation playing with friends, listening to music and conquering video games. Instead he was worrying about getting a job and helping take care of living expenses. How had their world gotten so topsy-turvy?
“Brian, let’s take things one step at a time,” April warned. As much as she’d love to take this handsome cowboy at his word, she had a feeling his word probably didn’t carry much weight and it was Matthew Delaney who would make the decision about whether they remained here.
“Brian, if you’re finished eating, it’s time for a shower,” April said.
He started to balk. April knew the idea of a shower to her son was as abhorrent as kissing a girl. But, having just asked Mark about a job, Brian apparently thought a temper tantrum might not be in his best interest. He nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.
“Where’s his dad?” Mark asked.
“Gone.” The word fell flatly from her.
“Like mine.”
She nodded, although it wasn’t quite the same. Derrick wasn’t dead. He was someplace alive and kicking, never staying in one place long enough for creditors to find him. “You mentioned a family meeting. Besides Matthew do you have other brothers and sisters?”
Mark nodded. “Luke. He’s a mess. That’s what Matthew says.”
April laughed, finding his candor refreshing. “Matthew, Mark and Luke,” she said.
“And Johnna, my sister.”
“Your father was a religious man, I take it.”
“My aunt Clara says he was a religious man only on Sundays.” Mark grinned as she laughed once more. “You sound nice when you laugh.”
“Thank you.” April was surprised to feel a warm blush creep over her features. She stood, vaguely uncomfortable with the feelings he evoked in her…feelings she’d believed long dead.
“I’ll put the leftovers in the basket, and you can take them back with you,” she said, busying herself with clearing the table.
“Just keep them.” He joined her near the table. “You didn’t have a piece of cake.”
“No,” she agreed.
“You don’t like chocolate?” He gazed at her with studied intensity and April found her breath catching in her chest. He looked at her with the eyes of a man who knew what he wanted…and might just want her.
She broke the gaze, heat swirling inside her. “I love chocolate.”
“Good, then let’s have a piece of cake.” His big capable hand swallowed hers as he grabbed it and pulled her into a chair at the table. He released her hand and gestured toward the cake in the center of the table.
Suddenly a piece of cake sounded good.
“Lucinda is the best baker in the entire world,” he said as she cut them each a piece.
“Lucinda?”
“She’s our cook. She’s sort of taken care of us since we were all little.” He took a bite of his cake. “Where did you live before you came here?”
She mentally shifted gears in order to keep up with his ever-changing topics of conversation. “We’re from Tulsa, Oklahoma.”
“Did you know my father?” he asked.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t. Although my father knew him.” April shoved the last of her cake aside; as always, thoughts of her father filled her with incredible ambiguity.
She’d loved her father with all her heart, but the man she’d always believed would protect her and love her had ultimately betrayed her as badly as her husband had.
“I’ve made you sad.” Mark’s gentle voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked at him, surprised by his sharp sensitivity and the empathy that radiated from his eyes.
“No,” she protested. “You haven’t made me sad.” She sighed. “Lately life has made me sad.”
“How come?” His big, broad hand moved to cover hers, its warmth as intense as the midday Inferno sun. Again April felt as if she couldn’t get enough air, as if somehow his touch displaced the oxygen in the room.
She wanted to tell him never mind, but his soft gaze held hers, and a slight pressure from his hand over hers encouraged the words to fall from her.
As nice as his hand felt covering hers, she pulled hers away and stood. Someplace in the back of her mind, she knew it was crazy to tell this man, this stranger, her life story.
Maybe the fact that she figured he probably wouldn’t understand all of it and couldn’t really judge her, made it seem overwhelmingly easy to consider baring her soul.
But that didn’t explain why his simple touch affected her so. “Let’s just say I have a terrible habit of trusting the wrong people,” she finally said, deciding baring one’s soul was far overrated.
At that moment, before Mark could make any reply, Brian came out of the bathroom clad in his usual sleeping attire, an oversize T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. “Hey, you guys had cake without me,” he protested.
“You can have yours now,” April replied.
Brian sat down in the chair where April had been and gazed at Mark eagerly. “Do you know how to ride buckin’ broncos and throw a lasso?”
Mark grinned, a slow, lazy expression that stirred fire in April’s veins. Despite his apparent slightly diminished mental capacity, she found him disturbingly attractive. There was something very sexy in his smile and a knowing glint that sparked in the depths of his eyes. “Sure,” he replied.
“Could you teach me how to ride broncos and throw a lasso?” Brian asked.
“Maybe,” Mark said, then frowned. “Although we ought to start off with the rope instead of