A Wish For Love (Gates-Cameron 2)

Bailey pictured Mark’s warm and deceptively lazy smile. “I can’t imagine why Cara won’t give him a chance. He seems like such a nice guy,” she commented.

“Dean thinks Cara had a disastrous relationship in her past, possibly an abusive husband. He thinks she’s been burned so badly that she’s afraid to try again.”

Bailey winced. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Actually, it was all too easy for her to understand, especially after her own latest fiasco. Getting involved with an abusive male tended to wreak havoc with a woman’s self-confidence. And her peace of mind.

“You seemed quite taken with Mark, yourself. Could it be that you’re considering giving Cara some competition?”

Bailey shook her head firmly. “Oh, no. As much as I like him, I’m not interested in chasing a man who is so obviously in love with another woman. Give me credit for more sense than that, Aunt Mae.”

Had she been perfectly honest, she would have added that there had been no real spark of attraction between her and Mark. She hadn’t caught her breath when he’d smiled, or found herself trapped in his gaze, or oddly, disconcertingly drawn to him.

The only man who’d affected her in that manner lately had been a dark-haired, dark-eyed stranger who hadn’t even given her his last name.

For at least the hundredth time that evening, she replayed that strange conversation in the gazebo. She wondered where he had come from, where he’d gone when he left her. Why he’d seemed so reluctant to divulge anything about himself.

For all she knew, he could be a criminal. Or a certified nut case like Larry.

And yet something about him had made her trust him from the first moment she’d seen him standing there. Which only went to show that she hadn’t learned any lasting lessons from Larry, after all, she thought in selfdisgust.

In contrast to Mark Winter’s sandy-haired boy-nextdoor looks and laughing green eyes, the man who’d called, himself Bran had been dark and brooding, his black eyes revealing little emotion. Mark was on the loose-limbed, lanky side; Bran’s slender, lethal gracefulness had made her think of a black jungle cat. A dangerous one.

Lifting her chin in defiance of her own trouble-prone nature, Bailey told herself that the two men had only one thing in common. She had no intention of getting personally involved with either one of them.

HAVING AWAKENED EARLY after a restless night, Bailey happened to be outside on Friday when a bright yellow school bus stopped to pick up Casey for school. She watched as Cara kissed her daughter’s cheek and hugged her tightly for a moment before releasing her.

Cara watched as the bus drove out of sight before she turned back toward the inn. Only then did she see Bailey. “Oh. Good morning.”

Bailey smiled. “It is a beautiful morning, isn’t it? Fall is my favorite time of year.”

It was going to be a glorious day. The air was crisp and fragrant. The huge old trees surrounding the inn had not yet dropped their brightly colored autumn leaves, red and orange and yellow against the backdrop of cloudless blue sky. For the first time in months, Bailey felt relaxed. Almost happy.

“It is a nice day,” Cara agreed, pushing her honeyblond hair away from her fair-skinned oval face. “Do you have plans?”

“Dean left me the keys to his car. I thought I might drive into Hot Springs and do some sightseeing. Maybe check out the bathhouses. Hey, why don’t you come with me?”

Cara’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me? Oh, but I—”

“You can take a few hours off, can’t you? It would be fun. You can show me around.”

“I haven’t spent much time m Hot Springs,” Cara admitted. “I’ve only been there once or twice to take Casey to the dentist.”

“Then we can both play tourist. What do you say?”

Cara twisted her slender hands in front of her. “I really should be here when Casey gets home. She—she worries when I’m not where she expects me to be.”

Bailey wondered about that, but she merely smiled and nodded. “We’ll be home before Casey. It’s only a twenty-minute drive, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cara admitted slowly.

Bailey thought the other woman looked tempted but nervous. Why? Because she worried about taking a day off work? Or was there some other reason she was so reluctant to leave the safety of the inn?

“Look, I don’t want to be pushy,” Bailey said. “If you’d rather not go, or have things you need to do here, I understand.”

Cara seemed to come to a sudden decision. “Actually, I think I would like to go,” she said with a touch of shyness. “It sounds like fun. I haven’t been out much lately.”

“Great. I’ll go tell Aunt Mae where we’ll be.”

“I have a few things to do very quickly,” Cara said. “Can we leave in half an hour?”