Man on a Mission. Carla Cassidy

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 riding a bronco.”

      April smiled at him. “I think that’s definitely wise.”

      “It’s wise? Good.” Mark grinned, as if extremely satisfied with himself.

      April’s heart constricted with compassion. She wondered if Mark had been born slow, or if he’d had an accident as a child.

      Her compassion had nothing to do with pity. It was difficult to pity a man who, despite any mental imperfections, exuded such quiet strength, who seemed to fit so well in his own skin and who radiated peace and happiness despite any depth of intelligence he might be lacking. It was impossible to pity a man who looked sexy enough to make her knees weaken.

      “Tell me about the horses,” Brian asked, leaning forward eagerly.

      As Mark talked about the horses and his responsibilities with them, April leaned against the refrigerator, entranced by the transformation that seemed to occur in him.

      He began haltingly, his words and descriptions coming as if through sheer, intense concentration alone. But it was obvious the topic of conversation was one he felt comfortable with, confident about, and that confidence shone from his eyes, filling them with a compelling animation and life that had been heretofore missing.

      A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. April opened it to see Matthew Delaney.

      “Good evening,” he greeted her, his gaze instantly going beyond her to Brian and Mark at the table. “Mark, I wondered where you’d gone to.”

      “I’m right here,” Mark replied.

      “Yes, I can see that now.” Matthew focused his attention back on April. “It appears that we’ll be keeping the ranch open for the time being, so if you’re still interested in the position of social director, it’s yours.”

      April’s heart soared. “Yes…oh, yes, I want the job.”

      Matthew nodded, his stern features not relaxing at all. “If you’ll come to the house tomorrow around noon, we’ll go over the terms of your employment and I’ll give you all the files from the previous social director.”

      “Thank you so much. I promise you won’t be sorry,” she exclaimed.

      Again he nodded as his gaze sought his brother. “Mark, it’s getting late. You need to come back to the house now.”

      Mark stood and clapped Brian on the back. “If you want to start work, be at the stables at seven in the morning.”

      “Cool!” Brian exclaimed. “I’ll be there.”

      Mark stepped out onto the porch with his brother, then smiled at April, that warm smile that forged a path straight to her heart. “I’ll see you tomorrow, April.”

      She nodded. “Good night, Mark.”

      She remained on the porch and watched the two brothers walking away. They were like bookends, equal in height and breadth of shoulder, but she found nothing particularly pleasing or attractive about Matthew Delaney.

      With a sigh she turned and went back into the small cottage. Minutes later she tucked Brian into bed. It had been a long day, most of it spent in the confines of the car, and although it was relatively early, his eyelids drooped with sleepiness.

      “Don’t forget to wake me up early,” Brian said. “I’ve got to be in the stables by seven.”

      “Don’t worry, I’ll get you up in time,” she assured him. She stroked a strand of his dark hair off his forehead, as always marveling how much the child looked like his father. It was as if Brian had been cloned from Derrick’s rib and had nothing of her physical characteristics.

      There were times in the dark of night when April’s biggest fear was that her son would grow up to be just like Derrick—a weak man without character, without good values. The only two men who had been a part of Brian’s life, who had any profound influence, had been sad, weak imitations of men.

      “Mom? Something’s wrong with Mark, isn’t it?” Brian eyed her sleepily.

      “Yes, honey. I think maybe something is wrong. I think maybe he’s just a little slow.”

      “But he’s not stupid,” Brian replied.

      “No, I don’t think he’s stupid.”

      “It’s okay if I like him, isn’t it?”

      April smiled at her son. “Yes, it’s okay that you like him.”

      “Good.” Brian closed his eyes and within moments was fast asleep.

      April remained seated on the edge of the bed, watching her son sleep. For the past two months, since her own father’s death, Brian had been unruly, difficult and possessing a simmering anger that had April at her wit’s end. But from the moment he’d learned they were staying here, and while he’d been interacting with Mark, he’d transformed back to the child of her heart, with smiles and good humor.

      April left the bedroom and closed the door behind her, her thoughts filled with Mark Delaney. Certainly April wasn’t looking for an intimate relationship with any man, but friendship would be nice, especially for Brian’s sake.

      As she went into her own bedroom, she realized this was the first time in as long as she could remember that thoughts of tomorrow didn’t bring despair, but rather brought hope.

      Chapter 3

      It was just before ten when April walked toward the stables in search of Brian. She needed to go into the small town of Inferno and pick up some groceries, since it appeared they were going to stay.

      She’d slept better than she had since her father’s death. No dreams had haunted her, no worries had kept sleep at bay. She’d awakened at dawn, feeling for the first time in a long time that she was ready to take on her future.

      Already the sun was intense, heating her shoulders and the back of her neck where she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and exposed pale, untanned skin. She tried to imagine what the heat would be like in July or August, but found it impossible to envision.