"Why not?"

She didn't even bother answering. Instead she rolled her eyes, as if he were being too dumb for words.

"I never realized you were such a control freak," he said.

"I'm not. Well, sometimes. If I can't always control the big things in my life, I tend to micromanage the little things. Decorating for Christmas is one of them. Maybe it's because I've been responsible for doing it on my own since my folks died."

Darcy emptied the contents of all the boxes. When Mark squatted next to her, she handed him containers of wooden ornaments with instructions for him to sort them by size. She examined their strings of lights, even going so far as to lay them out in the empty playroom to calculate the exact length of each.

"You go to all this trouble at home?" he asked when she'd returned withthe an -nouncement that there were probably enough lights, but they were going to have to be careful to make sure every branch had a decoration.

"Absolutely.Decorating my tree is an entire weekend affair."

He started to tease her that he would like to be out of town during that time, but the words got stuck in his throat. He had a feeling that he would enjoy spending that weekend with Darcy. She might even be able to exorcise some of his demons.

"Whatchadoin'?"

The soft voice came from behind him. Mark turned to see a small girl standing by the edge of the hall. She wore a worn pink bathrobe and cat slippers. One hand clutched a tattered teddy while the other held on to a kid-size IV stand. Two plastic bags dripped into lines that disappeared up her sleeve.

"We're decorating the tree," Darcy said with a smile. "I was thinking about putting her on top. What do you think?"

As Darcy spoke, she held up a white- and-gold angel. The little girl had a scarf over her head. Her eyebrows were gone, as were her eyelashes. But judging from the freckles marching across her pert nose, Mark guessed that she was a redhead.

The child tilted her head as she studied the angel. "She's pretty," she said.

"I agree." Darcy nodded. "Okay. We'll put her on top and tomorrow you can tell everyone it was your idea."

The girl smiled shyly.

"What's your name?" Darcy asked.

"Brittany."

"Do you want to help?"

Brittanyhesitated,then shook her head. "I'm gonna get a second chemo and it makes me throw up. But I'll come see the tree tomorrow."

Darcy nodded without speaking. Mark saw tears in her eyes.

Brittanywaved, then turned and headed back toward her room.

Mark watched her go. "Now I see why you do this."

Darcy sniffed,then cleared her throat. "I want to help. I don't have a lot of money, so I can't give very much."

"Time can be more precious."

She returned to sorting the ornaments. "No one should be in the hospital at Christmas. If they have to be, we owe it to them to make it special. The holidays are a time for connecting."

He wondered who she would be spending the holidays with. After all, her parents were gone and she hadn't had any family at Thanksgiving diner.

But he didn't ask. There were things about her he didn't want to know. They implied a closeness that made him uncomfortable. He was still adjusting to the fact that he'd agreed to be her friend. Growing up inWhitehorn , he'd never been much of a joiner. Since returning the only thing he'd gotten involved with was a weekly Sunday morning basketball game.

"What has you looking so serious?" Darcy asked.

"I was just thinking that I never fit in around here. I didn't get the whole cowboy thing."

"That's really interesting. I mean, considering your sister tours with the rodeo."

He stared at her. "How did you know about my sister?"

"I, ah, well..." Darcy stood and studied the tree. "We should really do the lights now."

"Not so fast." He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "Who told you about Maddie?"

"It wasn't anything." She stared at the center of his chest. "There was some talk about you when you returned to town and I might have recently mentioned you to Janie. I had issued a rather impulsive invitation to my house for Thanksgiving and I wanted to make sure you weren't dangerous.At least not in the criminal sense."

He leaned close. "You didn't realize I'd be so irresistible in bed."

She raised her gaze to his. "You have anoverinflated ego."

"You were the one screaming my name."

She blinked first."The lights."

"Lead the way."

They started at the top of the tree. Mark positioned the strands while Darcy gave instructions. He enjoyed the sound of her voice and the fact that she'd been curious enough to ask around about him.

When the lights were arranged to her picky satisfaction, they switched to ornaments. Despite her diminutive stature, Darcy insisted on hanging decorations near the top of the tree. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach, which meant her sweater crept up, exposing a strip of bare back and belly. Mark stood back and enjoyed the view. As he wasn't likely to get any from her anytime soon, he would take what crumbs he could find.

They argued over where to place painted gingerbread men, and he deliberately moved several paper cranes to a different branch. Outraged, Darcy planted her hands on her hips.

"I cannot work under these conditions," she exclaimed, raising her voice slightly when she caught sight of a boy on crutches. He was about nine or ten, and thin.

Dramatically Darcy tossed her head,then stared at the heavens. "I am an artist. You must not disrupt my flow."

"I'm going to get out of the way before I step in it," Mark muttered under his breath.

The boy laughed.

Mark inched toward him,then dropped into a crouch. "Women," he said. "Do they drive you crazy, too?"

The boy nodded.

Mark pulled two more wooden ornaments out of his shirt pocket. "I'll distract her and you hang these, okay?"

Big brown eyes brightened at the thought of a conspiracy. Mark sensed Darcy's attention and knew that she'd heard him, but that wasn't a problem. He didn't doubt she would play along with the game.

"Oh, Darcy," he said, his voice loud enough to carry. "We're missing a box of ornaments."

She turned toward him, careful to keep her back to the boy who was moving slowly toward the tree.

"Did you lose them again? I thought I could trust you. Where did you last see the box?"

Mark rose and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you lost them."

"Me?" She pressed a hand to her chest. "I'm crushed you would say such a thing about me.Simply crushed.Mortified.Broken."

She sagged into a nearby chair and buried her head in her hands. The child finished hanging the two ornaments and made his way to Mark's side.

"Good job," Mark said, touching the boy's shoulder. "I'm impressed."

Darcy looked at the tree and sprang to her feet."My tree. It's perfect.And yet. No! Someone has touched it. Someone has ... made it better. Was it you?"

She turned to the boy. He grinned in delight. She returned to her chair.

"Done in by a child."

Still smiling, the boy gave a little wave then started back to his room. One of the nurses stepped into the hall.

"Jon-Anthony, you get back here, young man. You just got your crutches today and already you're running marathons. I told the doctor you'd be trouble, but did she listen?"

"Nice job," Darcy said, rising and surveying their tree. "You're really good with kids."

"You, too."

They stared at each other. It was too much like a moment for Mark to be comfortable. "Maddie was always breaking something when we were growing up. It was never fun for her to be slowed down by a cast or crutches. I used to entertain her."

Darcy stared down the hall. "I feel badly for the children who have to spend Christmas here."

"You're helping."

"I want it to be enough, and I'm not sure it is."

She looked a little lost as she spoke. He had the thought she was the kind of woman who should be married with a couple of kids of her own. That might keep her from wanting to rescue the world.

As he stared at the lights on the tree, he remembered when he'd had his own dreams about children. It had been a year ago, right after he'd met Sylvia. By their second date, he'd been ready to propose, having already named their children. He'd never been happier.

Suddenly he could hear the sound of Sylvia's laughter. He recalled how she'd looked waiting for him to come home from work. Usually she'd been naked and in his bed. It had taken nearly three months after he'd gotten out of the hospital for him to stop expecting to see her. Even when he'd stopped caring about her, she'd still managed to invade his dreams. Even now she haunted him, reminding him to be wary.

"Mark?"

He turned to look at Darcy.

"Want to come back to earth?" she asked with a smile.

"Sorry."

Suddenly he was uncomfortable in his own skin. He recognized the feeling, hating it, knowing that there wasn't anything he could do about it except wait it out. His bullet wounds began to ache and he wished it wasn't so cold out. He needed to go for a run.

"I should go," he said, grateful he'd met her at the hospital so he could make a quick exit. Who knew the ghosts would follow him back toWhitehorn ?

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You look I don't know unhappy."

"I'm fine. I just need to get home."

She nodded. "Do you still want me to come to your basketball game tomorrow?"

He'd nearly forgotten. "Sure.Eight-thirty sharp."

She groaned. "Sunday is my only day to sleep in."

He pointed at the tree and she sighed.

"I'll be there," she promised.

As he walked to his truck, he found himself oddly pleased by the fact that she was coming to watch the game. All he had to do now was survive the night and not let the demons win.

Darcy arrived at the basketball courts a little before eight-thirty. She came bearing gifts. Something about the way Mark had left the hospital the previous night had made her uncomfortable. She wanted to make things right between them difficult to do when she wasn't sure anything was wrong. Regardless, she used the only fix that she knew was bound to work with a bunch of guys playing sports.

Cinnamon rolls.

The smell of the freshly baked breakfast treat nearly made her crazy while she drove the few miles between her place and the new gym facility. But she'd been determined to resist. Eating with the guys would be her bonding experience.

She parked next to Mark's truck, trying not to think that they could have easily gone together. But he hadn't offered and she hadn't wanted to ask. He'd accepted her request that they be friends instead of lovers, although she'd sensed that wasn't his first choice. She didn't want to push things. Telling herself she'd done fine all this time without Mark in her life was interesting but not convincing. Darn the man for starting to get under her skin.

She carried her pink box of goodies, along with a couple of carafes of coffee and several disposable cups, into the main en- trance, then headed for the gym. She followed the sound of male voices and laughter into one of the practice areas. Once inside the warm room, she came to a stop overwhelmed by so much masculinity in a single room.

She recognized Mark right away. In fact her gaze sought him out first, as if he contained a homing beacon she'd been especially programmed to find.She barely no-ticed the other guys milling around. They all looked good enough in their loose gym shorts and baggy T-shirts, but only Mark made her heart beat the tiniest bit faster.

He looked up and saw her. In that split second, she held her breath, hoping for a flash of desire to harden his expression. Unfortunately, he kept whatever he was feeling to himself, although he did grin at her andwave her over.

"Hey, Darcy, what's in the box?"

She glared at him. "What's in the box? Not "Hi' or "Nice to see you'?"

Josh Anderson, the owner of Anderson, Inc., strolled over. "Morning, Darcy.Nice to see you. What's in the box?"

She turned her back on Mark. "Some people have manners. Some people take the time to be appreciative. Good morning, Josh. I made cinnamon rolls and brought coffee."

"The woman's a G.o.ddess," he said, reaching to take the box from her and opening the top. Instantly the sweet scent surrounded them.

Mark moved close. "Josh only thinks you're a G.o.ddess. I happen to know that it's true."

"Oh, please." Darcy wrinkled her nose to show she wasn't the least bit impressed, this despite the quivering in her stomach and thighs.