Man on a Mission Read Free

grateful she was for the reprieve he’d granted them.
    When she finally dropped his hand, she was startled to see a flash of…something in his eyes. It was there only a moment, then gone.
    â€œYou’ll be fine,” he agreed. Again he smiled asweet, uncomplicated smile. “I’ll be back later.” With this promise he turned and left them alone.
    â€œHe’s nice, but something isn’t working right,” Brian said as he tapped the side of his head.
    He’d been more than nice, April thought, and his smile had reached inside her and touched her like none had in a very long time.
    Perhaps because it had been such a nonthreatening, gentle smile. No cunning, no shrewdness, nothing but innocent pleasure. The smile of innocence and yet it had warmed her like that of a man’s.
    She shook her head, dismissing all thoughts of Mark Delaney. She had more important things to think about—like the fact that come morning, they’d be back on the road to nowhere.
    Â 
    As Mark walked toward the stables, he wondered what had prompted him to come to April Cartwright’s rescue. Had it been because her hair was the rich-gold of a daisy, or because her dewy, green eyes had radiated the promise of spring—something Inferno, Arizona, didn’t normally enjoy?
    Or had it simply been because he’d felt her desperation, sensed a disturbing resignation? She’d looked so small, so defenseless when Matthew had told her there was no position available.
    Adam had promised her a job, and now Adam was gone. A shaft of pain pierced through Mark as he thought of his father.
    He grieved not so much for the man who had died, but for the fact that now he and his father would never be anything more than what they’d been to each other—virtual strangers.
    Shoving aside these thoughts, he entered the stable. As always the scent of oiled leather, fresh hay and horseflesh filled him with pleasure and a sense of homecoming.
    The horses had always been his family, the stable his home. As he walked down the center of the building, the horses in their stalls on either side greeted him with soft whinnies and welcoming nickers.
    He whispered soft words to each animal he passed, pausing to stroke a mane or scratch behind an ear. There was no sound of another human being, and Mark knew the men who worked for the ranch would be on their lunch break.
    What had happened to April and Brian Cartwright? No money and no place to go. What kicks had life delivered to them that had landed them here, broke and hopeless?
    He couldn’t very well ask such questions. He wasn’t supposed to be bright enough to understand such things.
    Frowning, he reached up and touched the back of his head. In the past three weeks, the wound had nearly healed, although he’d led everyone to believe the assault had left behind inexplicable brain damage.
    Although the physical wounds were mending, he was still suffering from a disturbing rage. He was racked by the need to discover who had attacked him with a shovel and who had killed Marietta Lopez.
    A vision of Marietta exploded in his mind. Dancing dark eyes and a generous smile, the attractive young woman had been a favorite among both guests and the other workers at the ranch.
    But the last time Mark had seen her, she hadn’tbeen smiling and the light in her eyes hadn’t danced. Her eyes had shone with the darkness of secrets. She’d been afraid.
    How he wished he had a clue as to her murderer and what secrets she hadn’t had the opportunity to share with him. How he wished she’d been as hardheaded as he was, then perhaps the blow from the shovel wouldn’t have killed her.
    Was it possible he’d seen something in April’s eyes that had reminded him of Marietta’s that night? The same kind of fear, the same expression of anxiety?
    April. Her eyes had been the brightest green he’d ever seen and something in their depths had