Man on a Mission Read Online Free Page A

warning.
    â€œApril?” Luke raised an eyebrow in Matthew’s direction.
    Matthew waved his hand in dismissal. “I’ll explain later,” he said, his gaze focused intently on Johnna.
    â€œAll right,” she said to Matthew, her features taut with irritation. “I’ll give it a try. Not for father’s sake, but because I know how important the ranch is to you and Mark.”
    â€œThen it’s settled,” Walter said as he stood. “I’ll be in touch with each of you later this week to work out the details.”
    Mark stood, grateful the matter had been decided and eager to escape. Throughout dinner and during the entire discussion about the ranch, all he’d been able to think about was April and Brian and the cooler of food.
    He’d seen the contents of the cooler when Brian had nearly upended it when he’d grabbed it from the back seat of their car. It had been a scant amount of fruit, several hunks of cheese and a couple cans of soda.
    As he’d eaten his dinner of roast and potatoes, fresh corn and homemade bread, he’d thought of them dining on their pitiful fare and had decided a care basket was in order.
    Matthew walked the others to the front door, and Mark made his escape into the kitchen. Lucinda, the woman who’d been cooking for the Delaney family for as long as Mark could remember, had already left for the night. The enormous kitchen was spotless, but Mark knew there were always plenty of leftovers in the refrigerator.
    He grabbed a basket from the pantry, then checked out the contents of the large, stainless steel refrigerator. Spying several pieces of fried chicken from the night before, he wrapped them in foil and put them into a basket. He added a container of potato salad, a small tub of baked beans and bread and butter.
    Then, thinking of the boy, he wrapped up half of the chocolate cake Lucinda had baked that day and added it to the basket.
    He left by the back door, catching his breath as he stepped from the cool of the house into the heat of the evening. It was mid-May, but already the temperatures were consistently hitting the century mark.
    As he walked toward the cottages, once again his thoughts went to the role he’d chosen to play. Initially he’d just wanted to buy himself some time, to gain enough distance from that night with Marietta in order to make sense of it all.
    As soon as he’d started the pretense, he’d noticed something interesting. People talked in front of him as if he wasn’t present. It was an odd phenomenon, one he had recognized years before when they’d had a Down’s syndrome man working for them. Mark had noticed how people spoke in front of the man aboutthings they would never confide to anyone else, as if confident he would never repeat, or understand, what they were saying.
    And that was exactly what Mark was counting on now. Already he’d noticed the ranch hands spoke more freely in front of him than they ever had in the past. And in that freedom, Mark hoped to glean clues about Marietta’s murder and whatever it was she had believed threatened the very existence of the ranch.
    He shoved these thoughts aside as he reached cottage number three. He was surprised as an eager anticipation surged through him.
    Now that they had decided to keep the ranch running for at least three months, April and Brian would be able to stay. Somehow, he’d make sure of it. He didn’t stop to analyze why it was important to him that they remain at the ranch. It was enough that she reminded him of spring.
    He shifted the basket from one hand to the other, then knocked on the door.
    She answered almost immediately, and it was obvious she had recently stepped out of a shower. Her hair was curly and damp and she smelled of soap and shampoo. She was clad in a mint-colored, sleeveless shift that skimmed her slenderness and stopped just above her knees.
    â€œMark.” Her eyes widened as