Emmett shrugged. “Can’t say. A man like Mark values his business, and to find out that someone has been intentionally sabotaging him … Well, it’s a wonder that he didn’t attack that poor Jack James kid right there in front of us.”
“You don’t really think that do you, Father?” Layla asked, appalled by the idea of Mark hurting Jack.
“No,” Emmett replied thoughtfully. “Mark knows Jack, and even though he’s angry with him, he showed some restraint in the way he handled things with that boy. But I’d say a prayer for George Winn.”
“What do you mean?” For the second time that day, she nibbled at a ragged nail. She hardly ever indulged in this bad habit, but when she was nervous, as she was at the moment, she couldn’t help herself.
Emmett frowned at her. “I know you’ve seen Mark upset before, Layla. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“I have, but—”
“But nothing, my dear girl. You like to see the best in everyone, which is an admirable quality, but you must understand that Mark is a passionate man. When someone threatens his business, he sees it as someone threatening his family. He won’t stand for it. No, if I were you, I’d pray for George Winn because Mark is bound to—”
“I’d rather pray for Mark,” Layla said simply before he could go into detail about what Mark might do to their neighbor.
Emmett barked a laugh. “Then pray for Mark. Lord knows, he needs it.”
Layla’s eyebrows scrunched together as she considered her father’s point. She didn’t know what Mark would do or how he would react to this situation, but she hoped he would think of Heath and try to rein in his impulses.
Lowering her eyes toward her lap, she clasped her hands together tightly so she could pray when she heard a whinny out front. She raced toward the front door.
“Mark!” she called as the door banged open behind her as she skidded to a stop on the porch. Leaping to the ground, he approached her slowly, clutching his hand to his chest. “Mark!” Layla cried out, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She hurried down the steps to him.
“I’m fine, Layla,” he said, but Layla could tell that he was not fine. While she could see very little through her watering eyes, she caught the scent of sweat and blood. The blood scared her, so she flung an arm around Mark’s shoulder and hurried him up into the house.
“Everything all right?” Emmett called from the sitting room.
“Take Heath upstairs, please,” Layla shouted back, and her father instantly spoke sweetly to Heath, describing their journey through the rooms as he did as she requested.
“Heath doesn’t need to go upstairs. I told you I’m all right, Layla,” Mark whispered, still huddled near her.
“I don’t want him to know about any of this. He picks up on everything, and I don’t want him to know that you are upset and hurt.” Layla brought Mark over to his dining room chair. He slouched down into the wooden seat, and she knelt beside him.
“Layla,” Mark said slowly, and now that she was level with him, she could see that he was a mess. His face was covered in dirt, and his right cheek was swollen. The hand he had been cradling to his chest had dark smudges of dirt, mud, or something else that she couldn’t identify on it, and the knuckles were bloodied. “I guess I shouldn’t have favored my right hand,” Mark said when he followed Layla’s gaze.
“Is that a joke? Are you trying to be funny right now?” Layla asked, her eyes bugging out of her head. She couldn’t comprehend his behavior. After fretting all that time, she didn’t think the situation was laughable. She had expected Mark to still be seething when he arrived back home, but here he was … almost jolly. It was very confusing.
Mark chuckled. “No, not really. I just don’t like to see you so distraught.”
Layla shook her head, fighting back the tears that were threatening at the corners of her eyes. She had been so worried about him. While she was enormously relieved to have him home, she wondered what would happen now. “I’ll get some water. We need to clean you up as best we can, and I need to have a look at that hand.”
“All right,” Mark said simply, which startled Layla more than anything. First, he was trying to lighten a mood, and then he agreed with her easily? None of it made sense at all.Mark must be completely disoriented.
She bustled from the room and did her best to gather supplies she needed quickly. Snatching the pail of water off the countertop, she grabbed two white and red dish rags from beside it. She wondered vaguely if there were any alcohol in the house so she might pour it over the wound but then remembered that Mark didn’t keep that type of thing in the house. And, even if he did have alcohol around here somewhere, they would have gotten rid of it when Emmet had come to stay so he wouldn’t be tempted.
Layla rushed back to the dining room, kneeling by Mark’s side. She dipped one dish rag into the water and used it to pat at the edge of Mark’s chin. “If it hurts too much, just tell me,” Layla told me. He removed his tall black hat and put it on the table in front of them.
“I will,” he replied quietly.
Layla dabbed the cloth around his face, easily wiping the dirt and grime away. After finishing with his chin, mouth, and nose area, she spoke gently. “Tell me about what happened.”
“You want to know?” Mark asked, his eyebrow quirking in surprise.
Layla nodded resolutely. “You’re hurt, Mark. Of course, I want to know what happened to you.”
Mark took a shuddering breath and said carefully, “You already know the first part of the story. George Winn was paying Jack for information about my business. I rode to George’s house and confronted him about it. When I saw that rotten … dirty …” Mark’s eyes searched Layla’s.
“Go on,” she whispered.
