“You all right, Jack?” Mark asked, concerned. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” While he had always treated Jack as the fine employee he was, Mark’s attitude was softening toward the young man. Maybe Layla was having an influence on him, as he had begun to think of others’ needs, as well as his own. Based on how Jack was behaving this morning, it was apparent to Mark that something was out of the ordinary.
“I’m fine, Mr. Flint,” Jack replied quickly, stuffing the note into the top right pocket of his brown leather vest.
“Love letter from the missus?” Mark questioned awkwardly. He usually had to work very hard to manage small talk with his employees, even with Jack, who he had known for a while. So, coming right out and teasing the young man was a completely new experience for Mark.
Jack also looked thrown by Mark’s casual comment but recovered quickly. “Something like that,” he replied, patting his pocket as if he meant to keep the note safe there.
Mark nodded. “At any rate, I’m glad to see you this morning, Jack.”
“You are, sir?” Jack asked, scratching at the side of his thick blond hair. He removed his brown broad-brimmed hat and held it in front of him.
“Yes,” Mark replied simply. “I wasn’t sure if any of the boys would be in early this morning, and I wasn’t looking forward to milking these cows all on my own. But now that I know you’re here, I figure we can manage the job in no time.”
“Sure,” Jack said, and his fingers nervously danced along the brim of his hat.
“You sure you’re all right, Jack?” Mark raised a brow.
“Yes, sir,” Jack answered quickly, straightening his spine and returning his hat to his head. He adjusted it slightly as he joined Mark.
“All right then, why don’t you start down at the opposite end with Betty Sue? I’ll see to Miss Martha May here, and we’ll meet in the middle.”
“Sounds like a plan, Boss.” Jack nodded, making his hat wobble. When he adjusted his hat once more, his hand flew to his pocket where he had tucked the letter just moments before. He patted the pocket with a sigh, and then he strode off to the other end of the barn.
That was strange, Mark thought as he watched Jack walk away.That young man is never that jumpy or fidgety. I wonder what got into him this morning.
***
Three of the ranch hands, including Billy, didn’t show up until a few hours later. Mark seriously considered docking their pay but then felt sorry for them. It was clear they were suffering the side effects from a night of heavy drinking. When he watched Billy race behind the barn to vomit discreetly, Mark thought of Emmett and felt that Billy was already suffering enough from his vices. Recalling Emmett brought Layla to mind, and as he was worried about her, too, he decided to head back to the house early to wash up and get ready for dinner.
As soon as Mark entered the kitchen, he could smell an enticing and unique aroma. The smell was a blend of sweet and comforting. He was pretty sure it wasn’t cake or pie, but the scent was fruity nonetheless. “Layla,” Mark called out.
“We’re in here, Mark,” Layla shouted back, and he followed the muffled sound of her voice. Detecting a hint of sadness in her response, he moved swiftly, only hesitating to inhale more appreciatively as he walked past the hearth, where pots hung from hooks.
“What are you making for dinner?” Mark asked as he came into the dining room. Layla and Heath sat at the table. Heath played with a silver rattle, jangling it in the air happily and alternately tapping it on the edge of the table. Layla was in a far less joyful pose. Her elbows were propped up on the table, and her face was buried in her hands.
“Layla?” Mark asked, rushing to her side and kneeling to her eye level. “Layla? Are you all right?” Glancing back at Heath, he could see that the baby was fine. He guessed that something must have gone horribly wrong with her father.
Layla shook her head back and forth slowly.
“Layla, please tell me what happened,” Mark soothed.
“It’s my father,” Layla mumbled through her hands. Though words were slightly muffled, she only confirmed what Mark suspected, so he understood her perfectly.
Mark shifted uncomfortably on his knees. He gently peeled Layla’s fingers away from her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he could tell that she had been crying for some time.
“Layla, what happened?” Mark whispered.
Her brow contracted in woe, and tiny crease lines formed on her forehead. Layla was far too young for an expression to mar her beautiful face, and Mark was displeased to see her in such a state. “I don’t know what’s wrong with my father,” Layla said bluntly. Her hands trembled as if her fingers were itching to cover her face once more.
Mark took one of her shaking hands and wrapped his own around it. Her fingertips were cold, and he did his best to massage some warmth back into them. “Layla …” Mark sighed.
“I went to see my father,” Layla inhaled sharply. “He didn’t look well. He was shivering, and he was pale … very pale.” Layla stared out the front window as she recalled her visit with her father. “He didn’t explain what made him drink to excess, but I don’t know that the drink was the entirety of his problems.” Layla’s hand shook, even though Mark was holding it tight. She faced him. “I’m so afraid,” she said, and tears coursed down her face steadily.
Mark recognized this kind of fear; he knew what it was like to think of a loved one constantly but have no means for remedying their state in life. When Trudie was so overcome by her responsibilities as a mother, Mark had tried his best to help her. He could see that Layla, in a similar fashion, was doing everything she possibly could to help her father escape his demons, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Sitting up on his haunches, he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her into a tight hug, feeling her tear droplets as they fell onto his neck.
“Layla,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m here. I want to help you and your father, too. Just tell me what to do.” His heart ached for her. While he did not know exactly how she must be feeling, something deep in the pit of his stomach squirmed uncomfortably. She was such a sweet creature who did so much to improve the lives of others. He wished that he could do something, anything, to aid her now.
“I don’t know,” Layla said as her voice shook. Her small hands wrapped around Mark, and the hair at the nape of his neck tingled at her touch.
