With her father’s death and the realization that once again her money was gone, as was her home, survival became the name of the game.
For some reason something about Mark reminded her she was more than a working mother. She was a woman. A woman with needs that had been neglected and ignored for a very long time.
Frowning, she once again focused her attention on the papers in front of her. She was here to work on the ranch, get herself and Brian back on their feet financially. She was not here to indulge any fantasies or physical needs with a handsome cowboy.
“Marietta made a lot of notes about the old barn,” she commented a few minutes later. She looked up to see Mark eyeing her with interest.
“The old barn? Why would she make any notes about that?”
“It seemed she wanted to check out renovating it and using it for activities. Make it sort of like a community center.” April showed him a notation on the paper she had been scanning. In the upper right-hand corner, the word barn was written and underlined in bright red ink. “I spoke to your brother about it this morning.”
“And what did Matthew say?”
“He said he’d have to discuss the idea with Walter Tilley, but he really didn’t think it was a good idea to spend any money renovating, when it wasn’t clear how long the ranch would be running.”
Mark smiled wryly. “If we lose everything, it won’t matter whether the funds were spent or not.”
April gazed at him curiously. “What will you do, Mark, if the ranch is sold?”
He leaned back in his chair, the shadows returning to his eyes. “I don’t know. My father always told me I wasn’t good for much except working with the stock. If the ranch goes, there’ll be no stock to work with.”
He sat forward, the shadows once again dissipating beneath a look of grim determination. “The house you came to the other night is mine no matter what. I bought the land from my dad.” He waved a hand as if to dismiss the topic. “I can’t worry about losing the ranch through defaulting on my father’s will until I discover what else might be threatening us. Somebody killed Marietta and almost killed me. That’s my number-one concern at the moment.”
April frowned thoughtfully and once again stared down at the underlined word on the paper before her. “Barn.” It had been written in odd places throughout the file, as if whenever Marietta doodled, the barn had been on her mind.
“That night I happened upon your house, I’d been checking out the old barn,” she began. “I know it sounds crazy, but while I was inside I thought I heard a noise.”
“What kind of noise?” He leaned even closer to her, his gaze intent.
“I thought it was a voice.” She flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “But I’m not sure. It’s possible it was just my imagination. I certainly didn’t see any indication that anyone was around.”
Once again Mark leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. “If I was going to run drugs here on the ranch, the old barn would be a perfect place to do it.” He stood suddenly. “Feel like a field trip?”
“To the barn?”
He nodded. “I haven’t been there in years. Maybe it’s time to check it out.”
“Is that wise?”
“Billy Carr mentioned a shipment coming in two weeks. That’s still over a week away, so we shouldn’t encounter any trouble.”
“Then what are we going for?” she asked as she stood.
“Because there has to be a sign there, a clue that the barn is being used. If I know where the illegal activity is taking place, then I can eventually figure out who is involved.” He grabbed his hat. “Why don’t I meet you at your car in five minutes. We’ll drive out to the barn and take a quick look around.”
Before she had an opportunity to reject or accept his plan, he slipped out the door. This was madness, she told herself as she grabbed her car keys. She was getting too deep into something that absolutely wasn’t her business.
Yet, even as she told herself she shouldn’t be going, she headed out the door and to her car to await Mark’s return.
Someplace in the back of her mind she knew why she was helping him. Because he’d trusted her with his secret, trusted her before his own family. But, more important, she wanted to help him because she liked him, because she somehow thought it was important to him that she believe in him.
Maybe it was the haunted look that filled his eyes when he spoke of his father, the same haunting look that she sometimes saw in her own son’s eyes.
She got into her car and put the keys in the ignition, but didn’t start the engine until the passenger door opened and Mark slid in.
“All set,” he said, and she started the engine.
“You’re going to have to direct me,” she said as they pulled away from her cottage. “The night I walked it I had a map. I only got disoriented when I left the barn.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get us there with no problems,” he assured her.
April drove for a moment in silence, concentrating on avoiding ruts and rocks and the occasional cactus. “When Brian and I first arrived here, I thought we’d been sent to hell,” she said, breaking the silence.
Mark laughed, a low pleasant chuckle. “That’s why the founding fathers named the town Inferno.”
She shot him a surreptitious glance. “But you love it here.”
He nodded, his gaze directed out the window at the savage landscape. “I do. For me there’s a sense of peace, of everlasting endurance that comes from the desert. People change, times change, but this place remains the same and that comforts me.” He laughed, as if embarrassed by his words.
But April understood. Over the past several days she’d begun to find the beauty in this place of earth tones and starkness. “I’ve noticed the sunrises and sunsets are more splendid here than in any place I’ve ever been,” she said.
“Yeah. I think God decided if he wasn’t going to give us trees and lakes, he’d give us great sunrises and sunsets, and set the stars so low in the sky it looks like you could just reach up and pluck one and put it in your pocket.”
His tone of voice was the same one he used to soothe the horses—gentle, deep and intoxicating. She wanted him to continue talking like that forever. Instead he pointed up ahead. “The barn is just over that rise,” he said.
Within minutes the structure came into sight. Weathered and tall, it looked as abandoned as it had the night April had come here by herself.
She parked in front of it, and they got out of the car. “From outward appearances, it doesn’t look like anyone’s been around here for years,” Mark said.
As they moved toward the door, April walked closer to Mark, remembering the sheer panic that had driven her out of the barn before.
The door creaked as he opened it, and the waning evening sun cast its golden light into the interior. Mark stepped in first, April right behind him.
It looked exactly as it had before, from the dust and sand on the floor to the broom standing in the corner. “Where were you when you thought you heard a voice?” he asked.
“I’m not sure…. Standing somewhere there in the center, I think. I’m sure I just imagined it. It’s obvious nobody has been here for some time.”
“I’m going to check out the loft,” he said, and moved toward the stairs.
April waited below, trying to ignore a shiver of apprehension that danced up her spine as he disappeared from her view. She wasn’t sure why, but this place gave her the creeps.
She breathed a sigh of relief as Mark came back down the stairs. “Nothing up there,” he said. “Just a lot of cobwebs.”
A rustling noise came from one of the dark corners. April froze as Mark reached into his boot and pulled out a small pistol. A large lizard raced across the floor. As it headed for the door, it left tiny footprints in the dust.
“You have a gun.” April stated the obvious as the lizard disappeared into the evening.
He tucked the gun back into his boot. “I always carry when a
way from the house. Out here it’s common to run into all kinds of varmint.”
April didn’t even want to think about varmints, either four-legged, six-legged or the most dangerous of all—two-legged. “You ready to go?” she asked, a shiver racing up her spine despite the warmth of the air.
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t see anything here that will help me figure things out.” Disappointment laced his voice. “Head out that way,” he said when they were back in the car, and pointed to the right of where April thought the ranch was. “We’ll stop by my place and get something cold to drink before heading back.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes. It was April who finally broke the quiet. “I’m sorry, Mark, that you didn’t find what you were looking for.”
He shrugged. “I was just hoping…I don’t know. I’m not even sure I know what I was hoping to find.” He sat up straighter in the seat. “But at least now I know whatever is going on isn’t going on at the old barn.”
“So, by process of elimination, you’re one step closer to learning where it’s going on.”
He laughed, and again April was struck by the utterly pleasant sound. “Are you always so optimistic?”
“Most of the time. Even when Derrick, my ex-husband, left me alone with Brian and a mountain of bills, I didn’t lose hope that things would be better.” She frowned thoughtfully and parked in front of Mark’s house. “It wasn’t until my dad’s death and the realization that he’d spent everything, that I felt true devastation.”
She turned off the car and looked at him. “When Brian and I arrived here, I was pretty defeated. I felt like we were cast out of our previous life without any preparation for a new one.”
“And now?”
She smiled. “And now my natural optimism has returned.” It was true. In the past week April had once again found her hope—the hope that her future would be brighter, the hope that eventually she’d find a special man who could fill the holes inside her, a man who would want to parent her son, who was so desperate for a father.
“Tell me about your ex-husband,” Mark asked.
“I’ll trade you one sad story for an icy cold soda,” she replied.
He grinned. “Deal.”
Together they got out of the car and walked to the house. Mark unlocked the front door and led her through the attractive living room to the kitchen. She sat at the table while he grabbed two sodas from the refrigerator, then he joined her.
He popped the top of her can, handed it to her, then eyed her expectantly.
“I had just turned eighteen when I met Derrick,” she began. “He was twenty-two and I thought he was the most handsome, charming, together man I’d ever met.” April sighed as her memories pulled her back in time. “My mother had just passed away, and I was reeling with the loss. Derrick filled me with dreams of a wonderful future together.”
She shook her head with a rueful smile. “If there’s one thing Derrick could do very well, it was dream. Unfortunately, the dreams were rarely followed up with anything that remotely resembled work.”
“You didn’t know that when you married him?” Mark’s soft voice pulled her from the past.
“No. We dated for three months, then I discovered I was pregnant. We married and, with a little nest egg I’d saved, managed to buy a small house complete with a white picket fence.”
“Ah, the old picket fence trick.”
She smiled, recognizing he was attempting to keep her memories, her foray into the past, painless. “Yeah, that picket fence gets to women every time.” She paused to take a drink of her soda. “The long and short of it is that Derrick always had a get-rich-quick scheme. I worked and saved money, and he dreamed and spent what little I could save. By the time our marriage ended, we’d lost the house, we had massive credit-card debt, and Derrick had disappeared.”
“And you never heard from him again?”
“Up until the time of my father’s death a month ago, Derrick would call occasionally.” She frowned and her hand tightened around the soda can. “He’d call to ask to borrow money, but he’d never ask to speak with Brian. With each of those phone calls, any pain I’d felt over the demise of my marriage left me.”
A small, self-conscious laugh escaped her. “Anyway, that’s my story. After Derrick, Brian and I moved in with my father. I worked at a hotel as a social director, and Dad watched Brian for me. I thought I was finally getting back on my feet, until I discovered that Dad had lost everything.” She winced and offered Mark a small smile. “I seem to have a habit of trusting the wrong men in my life.”
To her surprise he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. Warmth swept up her arm. His hand was big enough to completely engulf hers, and she could feel the calluses that spoke of hard labor—calluses that only added to the tactile pleasure of his hand over hers.
“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough time.” His voice was soft as a whisper in her ear, as potent as a caress across her bare flesh.
With a flush of heat rising through her, she pulled her hand away and stood. “Why don’t you give me a tour of your house? You mentioned the other night that you built it yourself.” The pitch of her voice sounded higher than normal to her own ears.
“Okay,” he agreed and stood, a lazy smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The smile told her he knew what had caused her slight breathlessness, the higher pitch to her voice.
Desire.
He led her through the living room and down a hallway. “We’ll start the tour back here,” he said as he opened a door to reveal an empty spare room. “I built the house five years ago.”
He opened the next door in the hallway to show her what appeared to be another spare bedroom, although this one held a double bed and a dresser. Next was a bathroom. “I was engaged and thought this was going to be a home for me and my wife and our family.”
April looked at him in surprise. “What happened?”
He frowned as he led her to the last doorway. “She broke it off.” He smiled wryly. “I forgot to build a picket fence. She found somebody else who had one.” He opened up the last door to reveal what was obviously the master bedroom.
“Oh, Mark. What a wonderful view.” April walked across the thick, plush carpeting to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows and the French door that led out to a rock and cactus garden.
As she looked out to where the sun was just giving a final kiss of color to the sky, she was aware of Mark coming to stand behind her.
She was also acutely aware of the king-size bed. As she’d passed it to get to the windows, she’d noticed the blue bedspread with narrow cranberry stripes. Bold. Masculine.
Like Mark.
“This is my favorite time of day to be here in this room.” His voice was once again that soft, deep lull that made her want to close her eyes and fall into him.
She knew she should move away from him the moment he placed his hands on her shoulders. But she couldn’t move. She was trapped by the need she felt flowing from him. And if she were perfectly honest with herself, she’d admit that she was captive to her own need, as well.
She turned to him and saw the colors of the sunset reflected in his eyes, flames of desire that danced amid the steel-gray flecks.
“April.” He whispered her name in the instant before his lips claimed hers.
Any thought she had of moving, of stepping away from him, banished beneath the fire of his kiss. His arms wound around her, pulling her tight against him, and in the hardness of his body she recognized the extent of his need.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue lightly touching first her lower lip, then delving into her mouth to battle with her own.
April raised her hands, skimming upward over the bulge of his biceps, across the expanse of his shoulders, and locked her fingers at the nape of his neck.
His kiss stole all thought from her mind, weakened her knees with its intensity and lit a hunger deep inside her that ached to be fulfilled.
When he finally r
aised his mouth from hers, she again told herself to step away from him. But her body refused to leave the warmth and thrill of his arms.
“April, I want you.” The yearning in his voice stirred her more deeply than anything else she had ever heard. His gaze held hers intently, and she knew he waited for her answer.
She also knew she could tell him no, halt the insanity at this very moment and there would be no hard feelings, no negative repercussions. She could walk away from this moment and this man and spend the rest of her life regretting it.
Why not? A little voice whispered as she caught a glimpse of the massive bed. Why not give in to temptation and just enjoy being a woman with this man? She had absolutely nothing he could take from her. Her money was gone, her home sold, her pitiful possessions not worth anything.
She had nothing more to lose to any man.
Decision made, she smiled at him, a tremulous smile, as she stepped out of his arms and walked to the side of the bed.
His eyes flared hot and hungry as she sank down onto the bedspread and beckoned him to join her. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky. “I’m not offering a picket fence.”
“I’m not asking for one,” she replied. “Just right now…that’s all I want.”
Apparently it was exactly the reply he was waiting for.
Before she could catch her breath, he joined her on the bed and pulled her against him for a kiss more fiery than the last.
Chapter 9
When Mark had suggested they stop by the house for something cold to drink, there had been no thought of seduction on his mind.
But the moment he’d seen her standing at his bedroom windows with the golden hues of dusk cascading over her, his desire to take her, possess her, had suddenly raged out of control.
Now his mouth claimed hers with fierce hunger as he pulled her closer against him. She fit perfectly, her breasts pressed into his chest and her long legs against his.
As he deepened the kiss with his tongue, his fingers worked the buttons of her blouse. He realized someplace in the back of his mind that he’d wanted her from the first time he’d seen her.
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