A Wish For Love (Gates-Cameron 2)

Having exhausted the weather as a conversational topic, Bailey moved on. “How are things at the newspaper?”

“Biggest story this week has been the busted water line on Main Street yesterday. A guy running a backhoe hit it and darn near flooded city hall.”

“That is exciting,” Bailey murmured with a smile.

“You bet. They even brought out the fire truck.”

“Why did they need the fire truck?”

“They didn’t, but it has to be started up every now and then. Keeps the battery from going dead.”

Bailey laughed, knowing Mark was exaggerating, but enjoying his nonsense, anyway.

“Oh, yeah, and Mr. Carmette reported a trespasser. Said it looked as though the guy had been camping out on his property.”

“Mr. Carmette?”

Mark nodded. “Lives on the other side of these woods, down the road about a half mile from here. He caught a glimpse of the guy late last night—said he was big and had dark hair, but that was the only description he could give. He ran into the house and got his rifle, but the man was gone by the time he got back out. He called Chief Peavy and raised hell. Mr. Carmette does not like hav ing his privacy violated.”

“Obviously not,” Bailey murmured, frowning.

She couldn’t help wondering about the dark-haired man who’d been spotted twice now late at night. Could it possibly have been Bran that Casey and the angry Mr. Carmette had seen?

She wouldn’t have described Bran’s whipcord build as big, but he was tall, which could mean the same to some. He was dark-haired. And he had been so evasive about where he was staying.

She really was going to have to get some answers about Bran soon. Before someone else started asking questions.

She changed the subject deliberately. Something about Mark’s clear green eyes told her that his mild manner concealed a sharp perceptiveness that could prove inconvenient if he sensed that she was troubled about something. “Are you staying for dinner?”

He nodded. “The special tonight is meat loaf and creamed potatoes with gravy. Elva’s gravy is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Aunt Mae and I would love to have you join us at our table.”

“Thanks. I’d like that. Er—I suppose Cara and Casey will be eating in the kitchen, as usual?”

“I’m sure they will,” Bailey answered gently. “Cara says she likes to share a quiet meal with her daughter when they get the chance.”

“Yeah, but it also makes a nice excuse for her to stay hidden from the guests and diners,” Mark grumbled. “Not to mention me.”

“When are you going to give up, Mark?” Bailey couldn’t resist asking.

He shrugged. “I’m not. I can’t,” he answered simply. “Someday, she’s going to realize she can trust me. I’m making headway, I think. She doesn’t turn pale and bolt in the other direction when she sees me now.”

“She isn’t exactly throwing herself into your arms, either.”

He groaned. “You really are Mae’s niece, aren’t you?”

Bailey wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid so. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m crazy about that aunt of yours. And I like you, too, Bailey Gates.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, Mark Winter.”

Someone cleared her throat behind them. Bailey and Mark looked around to find Cara standing there, frowning at them. “Mrs. Harper wanted to know if you’re ready for dinner, Bailey.”

Bailey stood. “Yes, thanks, Cara. Mark will be joining us tonight. Wouldn’t you and Casey like to dine with us, too?”

“Thank you, but no. We had an early dinner. Casey wants me to watch something on television with her this evening.”