"I'm glad it was just work," she continued. "I was getting a little worried. I thought you might be sick or something."

"I don't need rescuing."

He spoke more sharply thanhe'd in- tended. She flinched slightly. A drop of frosting slipped onto the counter.

"Obviously not," she murmured.

He swore under his breath. "Darcy, it's not that. I just..."

He just what?Wanted her to tell him that she'd never done anything illegal in her life? Or say that she wasn't like Sylvia? That it was safe for him to sleep with her because she wasn't going to try and hold him, but instead would freely let him go when he needed to run?

He knew he was being a jerk. Some of it was theinvestigation, some of it was his past. He couldn't help wondering if he had any responsibility in Sylvia's suicide. Telling himself he didn't hadn't erased the questions.

Was he s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up Darcy's life by getting involved with her? Was he willing to walk away?

She finished with the first Santa and moved on to a second. There were already a couple of dozen cookies drying on racks on the kitchen counter.Santasand green trees with tiny ornaments, stars and candy canes. She worked quickly, with an ease that came with long practice. The overhead light turned the tips of her blond hair to gold. Her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks.

"Do you make cookies every year?" he asked.

"Sure. Some I give away. I'm taking a few dozen over to the hospital tomorrow for the kids and the staff. I'll be selling some through the Hip Hop. I really enjoy holiday baking."

He hated what he was doing, but he couldn't stop himself. He crossed to the table and pulled out a chair. Right now he needed answers more than he needed to be her friend. No way would he admit that he just might be using the case to keep his emotional distance.

"It must be nice to have a white Christmas after all those years inArizona."

She glanced out the window. Snow fell steadily. They were due to get a couple of inches that night. Humor brightened her eyes.

"I agree that the snow is picturesque, but there are times I really miss the heat. I'm sure that come mid-January I'll be wishing I was back in the desert."

He itched to pull out his pad and start taking notes. "Is that why you moved fromIllinoistoArizonain the first place?To get away from the winter?"

He hated that she looked away before answering.

"Some of it.Also, I'd just lost my parents and I wanted a change."

"I'm surprised you didn't want to stay where everything was familiar. Starting over isn't easy."

"I see your point, but it was different for me. None of my so-called friends had stayed by me. I didn't think I was giving anything up by moving on."

The argument sounded convincing, but her body language and his gut told him otherwise.

"What brought you back to theMidwest?And whyMontana?"

Darcy carefully finished the last Santa coat,then switched to white icing. As she piped on trim, she nibbled op her bottom lip.

"It was time to try somewhere new," she said at last. "As forMontana, I don't know. I'd heard so much about it. There's a lot of natural beauty here outdoor sports, that sort of thing."

He doubted she could get a pair of skis into her car, and she didn't have a roof rack. Besides, Darcy didn't strike him as the sports type. When would she find the time? Between her full-time job at the Hip Hop and her baking, she seemed to keep herself busy.

"Why all the questions?" she asked softly.

Now it was his turn to look away. "No reason."

"I think there might be. You didn't come into the cafe today. Are you avoiding me, Mark?"

"There's a new case. I can't talk about it."

She accepted his explanation with a nod. Either she didn't notice he hadn't answered her question, or she wasn't going to push it.

"What about your friend's death? I'm sure you're not over that."

He grimaced. "Sylvia wasn't a friend."

"I think you two were very close."

Darcy's comment invited confession, but he wasn't in the mood to admit he'd made such a big mistake.

He stood up and paced the length of the kitchen. Restlessness filled him. He wanted Darcy. Even as he questioned her, his body tightened in antic.i.p.ation. Only they weren't going to be making love today. Probably not anytime soon, if ever again. Not while he wasn't sure about her.

What was he doing here? He should either ask her some pointed questions or get the h.e.l.l out of her place. But asking questions meant hearing answers and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

He hated the darkness inside his soul. Life had been a whole lot easier when he hadn't worried about anyone but himself.

"I know what you need," Darcy said in a bright tone that sounded forced."Sugar and caffeine. Go sit in the living room and I'll bring in some cookies and coffee."

"No, I don't want to eat your cookies. You're going to sell them to the Hip Hop."

"I'll be giving a bunch away to the hospital, as well, so don't worry about eating up my business. Besides, you really look like you need a cookie."

Her blue eyes were large and innocent. She couldn't know how much he wanted that innocence to be true.

"Okay. Cookies and coffee sound great."

He walked into the living room, but instead of taking a seat, he prowled around.

"Do you really want coffee?" Darcy called from the kitchen. "It's kinda late.What about milk instead."

"Either," he said.

On the mantel there was a picture of young girl with an attractive, well-dressed couple. He a.s.sumed it was of Darcy and her parents. Next to that was a small plant of some kind, and a pink and white box. He raised the lid, expecting to hear music. There was only silence ... and the sound of his heart.

Mark stared at the folded bills neatly placed in the small box. The thick wad of money seemed to be mostly fifties. There had to be at least a couple of thousand dollars here.In cash.

He closed his eyes briefly, not wanting it to be her. Not Darcy. He wanted to find another reason for the money to be there. But the tips at the Hip Hop couldn't be that good, and Darcy hadn't been in town long enough for her business to take off. She didn't even have a contract with the Hip Hop.

He slammed the top on the box and forced himself to sit on the sofa. There had to be another explanation. He refused to believe that Darcy was involved in money laundering.

She smiled as she walked into the living room. A plate of cookies took up most of the tray. Two gla.s.ses of milk nestled together. She set the tray on the coffee table and settled next to him on the sofa.

"These are my favorites," she said, picking up a cookie in the shape of a bell and nibbling on the edge.

"Actually I like the icing more than the cookies, but I can't allow myself to sit down and eat just icing. So I choke down the cookie part, too."

She smiled as she spoke, an easy smile that made him wonder if he'd imagined the money. But he knew he hadn't. He felt betrayed for the second time. Something he'd never wanted to experience again.

Why did it matter if she was a criminal? He told himself he didn't care about Darcy. So maybe they'd been lovers a few times. They might have even started to be friends, but so what?

He stood suddenly. "I have to go."

Darcy stared after Mark. One second they'd been sitting together talking and the next, he'd been gone. What had happened? She put down the cookie she'd been eating. It seemed that her run of bad luck with men was endless.

She didn't know why Mark had left, but she had figured out that something was very wrong. Despite his claims to the contrary, he'd been avoiding her. What she didn't know was why. Had he found out about Dirk? Mark had sure been in detective mode with all his questions. Obviously he suspected something, but what? How could he have found out about the school and her brother's challenges?

Did it matter? She slumped back on the sofa. For a while she'd thought that Mark's time in caring for his sister might have made him more understanding and accepting of her situation. Obviously she'd been wrong about that, and him. He thought she was good enough to sleep with, but not good enough for anything else.

"The h.e.l.l with him," she said aloud. But her voice was a whisper, and she was having a hard time ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes.

Chapter Nine.

Darcy knocked on the counseling office door. Andrew looked up and waved her in.

"I didn't expect to see you until the weekend," he said.

She took the seat opposite his. "I just wanted to drop by and say hi to Dirk."

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "We're fifty miles fromWhitehorn on a two-lane farm road, Darcy. Is there a problem?"

"No.Really. I'm fine. How's Dirk?"

"Making great progress."Andrew leaned back in his chair. "Some things are easier for him to grasp than others. You know our goal here is help our students be as self-sufficient as possible in the real world. Dirk will never be a CEO of a major company but, as I told you when he first arrived, I think there are a lot of opportunities for him. Now that I've worked with him for six months, I don't see any reason to change my opinion. If anything, I'm more confident."

"Thanks." She fidgeted with the strap of her purse. "I'm still going to be able to make monthly payments, right?"

"Absolutely."Andrew chuckled. "Actually, you've caught me in the middle of putting together a financial-aid package for you. Now that Dirk has been here long enough for us to evaluate him, we're going to start the process of applying for scholarship and grant money."

"You can do that?" she asked, not daring to hope.

"We can try. We don't talk about it as an option when we get a new student because there are restrictions. One of them is how much the student can be helped. Our belief is that Dirk will be about ninety percent self-sufficient by the time he leaves here. He'll be able to hold down a job, live on his own and, within reason, support himself. That and the fact that he doesn't have any financial resourcesmakes him eligible."

Darcy bristled. "I pay for things. I've never been late with a tuition payment."

"Hey, don't make me the bad guy. The foundations we work with don't consider you a primary source of income. You're a sibling, not a parent. This is a good thing. It makes Dirk more eligible for funding."

"Oh." She considered the information. "I'm not going to start planning a trip toHawaiior anything, but if we could get some financial aid, it would really help."

Andrew nodded, his expression turning serious. "I know you're hanging on by a thread, Darcy. Don't give up. I'm guessing within six months, we'll have funding for at least three-quarters of his tuition."

"That would be terrific," she admitted. "Some months it's difficult to pay all my bills." If the funding came through she might actually be able to save money for an emergency.

"We're not cheap," Andrew admitted. "I like to think we're worth it." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What else is wrong, Darcy? You don't seem to be your normal, cheerful self today."

She shrugged."Just life. You know there's always something."

"I'm a professional. I'm willing to listen."

"That sounds really tempting, but you're Dirk's counselor, not mine."

"I'd like to think we're friends. Talk to me."

She hesitated. "I don't know. There's this guy."

"Ah.A matter of the heart. I should have known."

"I don't know if this qualifies as a 'matter of the heart.' More like a confusing situation between people who are friends."

And lovers, but she wasn't comfortable confessing that. "He lives next door. We've hung out a few times." Did s.e.x qualify as hanging out? "I thought we were getting along great, but last Monday he turned weird on me. I don't know. He mentioned some big case at work, but I'm not sure I believe him."

"What kind of work does he do?"

"He's a detective. He worked inNew Yorkfor a while, but he was injured on the job. I guess he left to recover and now he's here. He grew up inWhitehorn ."

"Sounds like he's made a lot of adjustments.First to the big city and now to coming home.How long has he been back?"

"A few months.I think a suspect shot him."

Andrew frowned. "That can't have been easy. Do you know any of the details of the shooting?"

"No.Just that he was in the hospital for a while and then in rehab." She thought about the scars on his body. "One gunshot was to his thigh, the other his torso. I know that no major organs were hit, but I think it was pretty close."

"Facing one's mortality is never easy. Es-pecially if his injuries were serious enough to cause him to leave his job."

Darcy considered Andrew's statement. She hadn't thought about the reasons for Mark's return toWhitehorn . "I don't know if he came back because he couldn't physically do the job, or if it was something else."

"Neither is going to make him feel good about himself," Andrew told her. "Men frequently define themselves by what they do. If your friend couldn't do the job he loved, he would need some time to get used to that reality. If he left because he didn't want to deal with the pressures anymore, then there are different things going on. Either way, he's in for an adjustment."

"You're right. I had just sort of a.s.sumed that it was all about me his being weird, I mean. Maybe it isn't. A friend of his killed herself a few days ago."

Andrew whistled."A former girlfriend?"