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April laughed. “Meat loaf isn’t particularly a favorite of mine, anyway.”
She was overly conscious of his nearness, of the scent of him wrapping around her as he walked close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.
“Wow, look!” Brian pointed to a store up ahead, where the window display consisted of a half-dozen ornate saddles and matching bridles.
“That’s the tack shop and next to it is the post office,” Mark said.
As he pointed out various places of interest, it was easy for April to forget that he was mentally impaired. He exuded an enthusiasm that was contagious and a candor that was refreshing.
He’d be easy to spend time with, she thought. A good companion who held no threat either emotionally or financially. A friend. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a friend, and the concept of Mark filling that space in her life warmed her. Perhaps warmed her a tad too much, she thought ruefully.
They stopped when they had gone completely around the square and were back to where April’s car was parked.
“I’ve got stuff to do at some other stores,” Mark said. “I’ll just meet you back here in a few minutes.”
April watched helplessly as he ambled down the sidewalk away from her and Brian. He walked with a masculine grace and for a moment April was completely engrossed in watching the slight sway of his slender hips and the awesome width of his shoulders.
She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in letting him go off on his own. She’d hate to have to go back to the ranch and tell Matthew Delaney that she’d lost his brother.
“Mom?” Brian stared at her impatiently. “Are we going food shopping or what?”
“Yes, we’re going food shopping,” she said. As she and Brian entered the small grocery store, she shoved her concerns about Mark aside. She had more important concerns—like how to buy the maximum amount of food with a minimum amount of cash.
Mark had discovered that an eleven-year-old boy could be a veritable font of information. Through Brian’s early-morning chatter, Mark had learned that April was almost thirty years old, her favorite color was turquoise and sometimes at night she cried when she thought Brian couldn’t hear her.
When Rachel had left Mark three years ago and married Samuel Rogers from the ranch nearest the Delaney place, Mark had sworn that he’d never get involved with any woman again.
Rachel had taken his heart, then twisted and mashed it when she’d told him she’d never believed any of the Delaney men would make good husbands or fathers. A month before their wedding date, she’d broken off the relationship and had left Mark bloody and defeated in the arena of romance.
Deep down he knew Rachel had been right in her assessment of him. None of the Delaney men was a good husband or father prospect. Even Johnna hadn’t managed to find a relationship that worked for her.
When she’d been eighteen, she’d dated the bad boy of town, Jerrod McCain, but Jerrod had disappeared from her life before her miscarriage, and as far as Mark knew, Johnna had never allowed anyone close to her again.
Matthew had always been too obsessed with the ranch to sustain any relationships, and Luke played at love, enjoying his image as a wild, untamed rake.
The Delaneys were definitely stunted in their ability to maintain any kind of relationship with the opposite sex. Unsurprising, considering they didn’t even have good relationships with each other.
No, Mark didn’t want a romance with April. He recognized his own inability, the inadequacies in himself that made him a bad candidate for romance. But that didn’t mean his fingers didn’t itch to touch the gold of April’s hair, and he had to confess the scent of her stirred him like no woman had in a very long time.
He walked into the Western clothing store, the small cowbell over the door announcing to the owner that somebody had entered the premises.
“Mark,” John Shaffer, the owner of Western Wear, greeted him with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. His grizzled brow wrinkled in concern as he pumped Mark’s hand. “How you feeling? I haven’t seen you since your accident.”
“I’m okay.”
John’s hand was warm around Mark’s. “I was sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man, Mark.”
Mark nodded, surprised that the kind words about his father brought a lump to his throat. “Matthew says I need some new jeans.” Mark forced himself to smile the empty expression that he’d perfected over the past several weeks.
John released his hand. “Oh, sure. We can get you set up with a new pair of jeans.”
Mark didn’t miss the look of pity that flashed momentarily across John’s features. Pity. That was the worst part of his subterfuge. The pity he saw on good people’s faces, and the smirking derision he saw on not-so-good people’s faces.
At least he had yet to see pity on April’s face. He’d seen curiosity, bewilderment and interest, but thankfully not pity.
It took only minutes for Mark to get the jeans and charge them to the Delaney account. As he was leaving the store, his attention was captured by the hat display. The wall section held hats of various sizes and styles, including one just like Mark’s, only sized to fit a boy’s head.
It’s not my job to buy that boy a hat, Mark told himself as he moved closer to the display. That kid is nothing to me but a part-time helper in the stables.
He already regretted the impulse that had prompted him to be friendly to April and Brian. He had no time for any kind of relationships, and Rachel had made it quite clear he wasn’t very good at them. He needed to back away from April and her son. He was pretending to be something he was not, and there was no guarantee they were going to manage to keep the ranch, no guarantee that April would be around for long.
Despite his internal protests to the contrary, he walked out of the store with both the jeans and the hat. In the distance he saw April and Brian exiting the grocery store, a cart laden with bags in front of them.
Perfect timing, he thought as he hurried toward them. When he reached them, April had opened the trunk and was beginning to unload the bags.
“Here, I’ll do that.” He threw his packages into one corner of the trunk, then began to unload the shopping cart.
“You should see all the good stuff Mom bought,” Brian said, dancing around Mark like a young colt with too much energy. “She bought frozen pizzas and cookies and chips.”
“Hmm, sounds good,” Mark said.
“And she bought chopped meat and said I could make hamburgers one night. Maybe you could eat dinner with us and taste my specialty burgers.” The boy’s need was in his eyes, the need to connect, and it was fierce in its hunger.
“Maybe,” Mark replied without commitment, realizing he definitely needed to put some distance between him and them. Brian’s hunger was too great, and Mark definitely wasn’t the man to fulfill the young boy’s needs. Whatever Brian was looking for in his life, whatever April might be seeking, Mark wasn’t the answer and never would be.
“Mark Delaney!”
The familiar feminine voice worked like cat claws on a blackboard, shooting irritation straight up his spine. He straightened from the trunk and eyed the attractive red-haired woman bearing down on them.
Molly Weiser. Mark stifled a groan. Of all the people in this world, there were two Mark hated coming face-to-face with—the first was Molly, followed closely by the devil himself.
“Mark, darling.”
Before he could successfully weave and dodge, he found himself embraced in a cloud of honeysuckle perfume, large silicon breasts pressed firmly against his chest.
“Molly…” He pulled her away from him and pointed to April. “This is my friend April and her son, Brian.”
“Hi, I’m April Cartwright. I’m working for the Delaneys,” April said.
“Indeed.” Molly’s eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. She looked to Mark and back to April. “And from all appearances, you’re a fast worker.”
April’s friendly smile faltered, and Mark wanted to throttle Molly, who turned back to Mark and grabbed his hand. “Darling, I’ve been wanting to see you since all the trouble, but that dreadful older brother of yours is quite off-putting. I’ve heard some stories that have had me worried sick about you.”
“I’m fine.” Mark pulled his hand from hers and grinned like a loony fool. “How are you?”
Molly’s brow wrinkled with concern, and he could see the wheels turning in her head. He knew what stories she’d probably heard—that he was addle brained—and he also knew she was weighing her options.
Molly was determined to marry a Delaney. She’d initially set her sights on Matthew, but when he refused to respond to her advances, she’d honed in on Mark. She’d been pursuing him for months. Now Mark was certain she was trying to decide if half a Delaney might not be just as good as a whole Delaney.
“We have to go,” he said to nobody in particular, just feeling the need to escape Molly’s cloying presence.
“I’ll call you, Mark,” Molly said. To Mark’s ears it sounded more threat than promise. “You owe me a dinner date.”
Mark loaded the last bag into the trunk and slammed the lid. As Molly wiggled her fingers goodbye, Mark, April and Brian got into the car.
For a long moment nobody spoke. April pulled out of the parking space and headed the car back toward the ranch.
Brian broke the silence. “She had the biggest ones I’ve ever seen.”
“Brian!” April exclaimed in protest, although Mark thought he saw a glimmer of laughter in her big green eyes.
“She bought them,” Mark replied. “She went to Tucson on vacation and came back three weeks later with big ones.”
“Wow,” Brian exclaimed as if the notion of women buying breasts was difficult to wrap his mind around. To tell the truth, it had always been difficult for Mark to understand.
“She should have bought a T-shirt or an ashtray instead,” Mark observed.
A giggle escaped April, the sound wonderfully feminine and appealing. “When I was little and we went on vacation, I collected bells.”
“I don’t have any collections ’cause I’ve never been anywhere,” Brian put in mournfully.
“You’re young. You’ve got plenty of time for collections,” Mark replied. He noticed April looking at him curiously and realized he’d been talking far too much.
As they approached the ranch, Mark drew into himself, his thoughts turning to Marietta and what information she might have had that had gotten her killed. Something was amiss at the Delaney Dude Ranch, but Mark had yet to discover exactly what it was. Every day that passed without answers only managed to feed his frustration.
The investigation into Marietta’s death and Mark’s injuries had been desultory at best by Sheriff Broder, who’d decided it was a crime of jealous rage perpetrated by a ranch hand who had subsequently disappeared.
Mark hadn’t told the sheriff what Marietta had shared with him. Her warning that it was possible the sheriff might be involved kept him mute where the specifics were concerned.
In two weeks the ranch would be jumping with guests, making his search for Marietta’s killer more complicated. And still he had nothing to go on concerning what activity Marietta had been talking about. He was beginning to wonder if his act was all for nothing.
“So, Mark, what are we going to do when we get back to the ranch?” Brian’s voice broke through Mark’s thoughts, and again Mark felt the boy’s hunger. “Maybe you could teach me to lasso?”
“Can’t,” Mark replied. “I have stuff to do this afternoon. You’re on your own for the rest of the day.”
He tried not to allow the boy’s disappointment to touch him. He had his own problems to deal with. He absolutely, positively refused to get caught up in April and Brian Cartwright.
“Brian, you can’t be bothering Mark all the time,” April told her son gently. “I’m sure he has more important things to do than teach you to throw a rope.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Mark said, hating the fact that despite his intentions, something in the boy’s eyes got to him.
“Great,” Brian agreed eagerly.
When they arrived at the cottage, April opened the trunk and handed Mark his packages. “Thanks, Mark, for the town tour and all your help.”
He nodded and pulled the hat from his bag. “Brian.” He tossed the boy the black hat.
Brian caught it with both hands, his eyes widening as he realized what he held. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “A hat just like yours.” In three long strides, he reached Mark and wrapped his arms awkwardly around Mark’s waist.
“Thanks, Mark.” Brian stepped away from him, his cheeks pinkened as if his display of affection had embarrassed him.
Mark turned to walk away, trying to ignore the sun-burst of warmth in the pit of his stomach.
“Mark.”
He paused and turned back to April. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” He was rewarded by a smile from her that warmed him down to his toes and twisted something deep in his gut.
He suddenly realized he had to be careful. For some reason this woman and her son had the potential of touching him where he’d sworn he would never be touched again.
Chapter 4
As April made her way from her cottage to the main house for her noon appointment with Matthew Delaney, her heart still retained the warmth evoked by Mark’s generosity.
It had been a very long time since any man had shown April any act of kindness or benevolence. Mark’s gift of the hat to Brian, his gift of easy smiles and camaraderie to April, made her almost believe there were good men out there.
She’d almost forgotten that there were men who could be trusted, men who would never dream of taking advantage of a woman, men who didn’t know how to be dishonest or deceitful.
She thought of the red-haired woman they’d met in town. Molly something. She was extremely pretty but had a predatory hardness in her eyes when she’d gazed at Mark. The woman had implied a relationship with him, but had mentioned trouble.
What trouble? Perhaps she’d been talking about the death of Adam Delaney?
April had been oddly disappointed to realize Mark might have a relationship with the woman. The look in Molly’s eyes had made a protective streak surge up inside April where Mark was concerned.
She wasn’t sure where that feeling came from or, in truth, if it was really protectiveness or an odd pang of jealousy.
She certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship with any man and she had no idea of the extent of Mark’s mental disability. But whatever the disability, it certainly didn’t steal away from his attractiveness as a vital, sexy man.
She couldn’t help the way the warmth of his smile shot electric currents through her, how the strength in the rippling muscles and width of his shoulders made her want to melt into his embrace.
Dismissing thoughts of Mark, she stepped up on the porch of the main house and knocked on the door. Matthew answered, his stern features forbidding as he ushered her into an office off the entryway.
He stepped behind a large, wooden desk and gestured her to the chair in front of him. She eased down, wondering how two brothers could look so much alike yet be so different. Mark was warmth and laughter, but Matthew Delaney appeared cold and stern.
“Since we last spoke I found the letter from you to my father, and a copy of his letter to you detailing the terms of your employment,” Matthew said as he sat behind the desk. “I assume those terms are still agreeable?”
“Yes.”
“As I said last night, I can’t make any long-term promises to you concerning employment.” His eyes darkened. “I have no idea what the future holds for the Delaney Dude Ranch. However, should we have to breach the contract, you will receive the severance pay detailed in my father’s letter.”
April nodded and sighed inwardly with relief. “I’ll work for you as long as you need me.” She’d take whatever she could get in an attempt to get back on her feet financially.
He nodded and pulled a large manila folder from a drawer. “Here is the file of the former social director. She kept quite extensive notes and had many plans in the works. We open to a full crowd in two weeks. I’ll expect a detailed, workable plan from you in a week.” He handed her the thick file.
“The most important thing for you to remember is that it’s your job to see that every person who comes here is accommodated with fun things to do. You’ll need to set up activities for children, young couples and older people.”
April nodded, undaunted by the task ahead of her. She’d done much the same kind of work at the hotel where she’d worked previously. He returned her nod, and she realized it was a dismissal. She stood and started for the door.
