Man on a Mission. Carla CassidyЧитать онлайн книгу.
he asked when he’d finished.
She pointed toward the closed bedroom door. “He’s angry.”
“Why?” Mark went to the cabinet and pulled out two plates and set them on the table.
Again her brow crinkled with a frown, and he could tell she was trying to determine whether to tell him. “I had promised Brian we were going to stay here, that I was going to have a job here. Now he’s angry because there’s no job and we’ll be leaving in the morning.”
“You’re going to stay,” Mark replied confidently. He walked over to the bedroom door and rapped on it, then smiled at April. “We had a family meeting. The ranch is going to stay open and you will have a job.”
“But your father hired me, and now he’s gone. Perhaps your brother will want to interview—”
“You have the job,” Mark interrupted her, then knocked once again on the door. “Brian, come out.”
The door opened and Brian stepped out, a mulish expression on his face. “What?” he said with more than a touch of belligerence.
“Come and eat,” Mark said.
“I’m not hungry,” Brian said, but he moved closer to the table, and his eyes widened at the sight of the chocolate cake. “Well, maybe I could eat just a little,” he said and slid into one of the chairs at the table.
“Go on,” Mark urged April into the other chair, then he shoved the suitcase over and sank onto the sofa.
“This was so incredibly kind of you,” April said, her gaze so warm on him, he could feel the heat clear down to his toes.
He nodded and fell silent, afraid of saying too much, not wanting to expose himself, yet wishing to hell he could reveal himself to her.
He wanted to know where she and Brian were from, how Adam had come to hire her, what forces had driven her here. He wanted to know if her skin was as soft as it looked, if it would be warm and inviting beneath his touch.
And he wanted to know why her beautiful, thick-lashed eyes emitted such fragility. He had a feeling keeping up his act with her was going to be the most difficult thing he’d ever done.
April ate self-consciously, unsure what to make of the man who sat on the sofa. His kindness in bringing them dinner had nearly undone her, and it was only with enormous effort that she hadn’t cried.
She only picked at the food on her plate, finding Mark Delaney far more interesting than chicken and beans. He was a fascinating dichotomy, his face an arresting contrast of darkness and light.
With his strong, bold features, short black hair and thick dark brows over dark gray-blue eyes, he emitted an aura of hard arrogance, of cool confidence that was instantly dispelled by the sweet gentleness of his smile.
It was such a refreshing change from the men in her past, the two men who had betrayed her on every level possible. She shoved this thought aside, refusing to drown in past regrets. She also shoved aside her plate and left the table.
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