Free Man on a Mission by Carla Cassidy Page B

through her. Where there was light, a house, there would be people. Surely somebody could point her in the direction of the Delaney Dude Ranch.
    It was no wonder she nearly missed the presence of the house. Without the illumination spilling out the large front window, the house blended nearly perfectly into the rock cropping behind it.
    As she got closer, she noticed the large horse tied to the hitching post outside the front door. A familiar horse, the one she’d seen Mark riding earlier. The horse’s ears pricked up, and he snorted and pawed the ground as if the slight breeze had carried her scent to him.
    With the light on in the house and the darkness of the night falling outside, April had a perfect view of Mark sitting at the kitchen table, apparently studying a pile of paperwork in front of him.
    What was he doing here? Who lived here and why did Mark look so at home? She remained standing just outside the window, watching him, fascinated bythe picture he presented, the picture of a man in deep concentration.
    At that moment Mark looked up and through the glass, and their gazes locked. Disbelief swept over his features, and she watched as he left the table, momentarily disappeared from her sight, then reappeared at the front door.
    â€œWhat in the hell are you doing out here at this time of night?” he demanded, his eyes flaming with outrage.
    â€œI went for a walk and sort of got lost,” she confessed.
    â€œDon’t you realize how unforgiving this place can be to fools?”
    April stared at him in astonishment. These were not the words of a man suffering brain damage, nor were they delivered in the halting fashion she’d come to expect from him.
    He frowned, his cheeks taking on a ruddy color that April perceived to be embarrassment. This only added to her confusion. “Come in.” He averted his gaze from her and stepped aside to allow her to enter the house.
    She stepped inside, her curiosity piqued as she entered the attractive living room. “Mark, whose house is this?” she asked.
    â€œMine.” He moved to the round oak table and quickly slid paperwork into a folder and placed it in a kitchen drawer.
    â€œYours?”
    When he looked at her again, he offered her the slightly vacuous smile that had been his trademark. Only this time April didn’t know if she trusted it.
    â€œThis is my house, but I haven’t stayed here since my accident.” His words were once again halting, and he reached up and touched the back of his head as if in memory of the horrible event that had apparently changed his life.
    April frowned, more confused than ever. When he’d thrown open the door and confronted her, his eyes had gleamed with sharpness and there had been no hint of simplemindedness.
    He shifted from foot to foot and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Sorry I yelled at you before.”
    â€œThat’s all right. I should have been yelled at.”
    He grinned at her. “You did something stupid. Usually I’m getting yelled at for doing something stupid.”
    April laughed, the confusion that had rippled through her fading away. “Everyone does something stupid at one time or another.” She’d done more than her share, she thought. The first stupid thing she’d done was trust the men in her life.
    As always, thoughts of Derrick and her father and her utter trust in them—a trust that had been betrayed—filled her with sadness and more than a little bit of anger. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing worse than trust betrayed.
    â€œWhat were you doing outside?” he asked, then added, “You want to sit?” He gestured her to the sofa.
    â€œNo thanks, I’m probably all dusty. I took a walk out this direction to look at the old barn,” she explained.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI thought it might be a wonderful place to hold some activities for the guests that come to the ranch.”
    He pulled