Mark looked devastated. His hand fell heavily to his side.
“I wasn’t asking as a reporter,” he said, his voice husky. “Surely you know me well enough to trust me that much.”
“I don’t trust anyone who makes a living exposing other people’s secrets,” she muttered.
His face hardened. “If I was only interested in exposing secrets, I’d have plenty to tell about this place,” he snapped. “Dean and Anna trust me. What have I done to make you think so badly of me?”
Bailey wondered what he meant. Mae looked troubled by his words. Cara’s only reaction seemed to be weary regret.
“I’m sorry,” she said, apparently speaking to all of them. “I—I really must go see about Casey now.”
She all but bolted from the lobby, leaving a taut silence in her wake.
“Well,” Mark said after a moment, his green eyes bleak. “I guess she made that clear enough.”
Bailey ached in sympathy for him. “She’s frightened, Mark. I don’t know why, but she’s terrified of something. And obviously, she’s had a bad experience with the press.”
“I’m not ‘the press,’ damn it,” he growled. “I’m the guy who was stupid enough to fall in love with her.”
He rubbed his forehead with a visibly unsteady hand. “I need to get out of here for a while. You’ll call if you need me, won’t you?”
“Of course we will.” Mae rose as Mark did. She tugged at his hand, pulling him downward so that she could kiss his cheek.
“Cara isn’t a deliberately cruel woman,” she murmured reassuringly. “She’s probably already very sorry that she spoke the way she did. I’m sure if you give her time…”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Mae, but I just don’t know how much more time I can give her,” Mark muttered. “A man can only take so much rejection.”
Mae sighed “I understand.”
“Maybe I could talk to her for you,” Bailey offered.
Mark patted her cheek. “I know you mean well, but stay out of it, Bailey. This is between Cara and me. One way or another, it’s going to have to be up to us to settle it.”
She nodded. “You’re right, of course.”
She wanted very badly to ask what he’d meant when he’d referred to the secrets he could expose about the inn and its inhabitants, and why he’d made it sound so significant that Dean and Anna trusted him. But she knew this wasn’t the right time.
He left without saying anything more.
“Poor Mark,” Mae said with a sigh. “And poor Cara. I hate to see them both suffering so.”
Bailey touched a hand to the sore lump on her forehead, and felt a pounding headache starting to develop behind it. “It seems like everyone around here has secrets,” she muttered. “Cara, Mark, Dean, Anna, Bran. Even you. I feel like an outsider.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Mae said, turning immediately to her niece. “I’m sure none of us are deliberately trying to exclude you. As for me, I don’t have any dark secrets I’m keeping from you. Only—only suspicions that aren’t really mine to share.”
Bailey wished she’d kept quiet. Now Mae was upset, worried that she’d somehow hurt her beloved niece’s feelings. “I know, Aunt Mae. I’m sorry. I guess we’re all still perturbed about last night.”
“Yes,” Mae agreed, continuing to look troubled. “It has been a tense day.”
“I think I’ll go rest for a while. Why don’t you do the same?”
“I believe I will. Thank goodness, we only have four rooms occupied right now. Elva and Millie can handle the inn until we’re back to normal. I hope Dean and Anna are having a lovely time, but I will certainly be glad to turn everything over to them again when they return.”
“I haven’t been helping very much, have I? Is there anything I can do this afternoon? Paperwork, or errands, or—well, anything?”
Mae smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, dear, but everything is under control for now. I promise I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”