to know is that Sean is better off without her.”
M.J. couldn’t help being curious. He’d never married Sean’s mother and he was raising the boy by himself. He believed money could buy everything and everyone. It didn’t require ugly details to see that the woman had really done a number on him. Sympathy started to stir inside M.J. and she shut it down. He was a client, her employer. As one parent to another, she sympathized with what he was going through, but she didn’t want to feel anything for him as a man.
“What about grandparents?” she asked.
Gavin shook his head. “My father passed away about two years ago.”
M.J. waited for more, but he didn’t say anything about extended family on his mother’s side. When curiosity stirred again, she ignored it. “Who takes care of him when you’re at work?”
“Henderson and Lenore. They’ve been with me since before Sean was born.”
“So they’re like family?”
“Yes. They’re devoted to my son.”
“Good.” She met his gaze. “But you’re the most important person in his world.”
“And I’ll do whatever it takes. You can count on me.”
She nodded. “Does Sean speak at all?”
“Not much,” he said ruefully. “A word here and there, but not complete sentences.” Worry etched lines in his handsome face. “He was perfect before the accident.”
“He’s a beautiful child,” she said softly. Something stirred inside her and again she shut it down.
Gavin met her gaze, his own stark with a father’s pain. “I want him back the way he was.”
M.J. nodded her understanding. Any parent in his position would feel the same. Now wasn’t the time to tell him Sean’s accident had changed him forever. No one could go through what he had and be the same as he was. The question was how much brain function could be regained.
To accomplish the best case scenario, M.J. needed to establish a bond with the child. How was she going to do that when every instinct urged her to shut down? To disengage from him? Once, she would have hugged Sean when introduced. Touched him. Shaken his little hand. Now she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.
She hoped Gavin hadn’t made a mistake hiring her and that she hadn’t made a colossal error in judgment by accepting the job.
She stood and slipped her hands into the pockets of her sweater. “I’ll do my best to help Sean.”
That was also the truth. Although it wasn’t much, she’d give everything she had left. But that didn’t include her heart. Not for the child. Or his father.
It had been four weeks since M.J. had first come to Cliff House. Gavin had cut short a meeting at work so that he could be here before she left today. Standing in the shadows just outside the room, he could observe, but the two didn’t notice him.
He was frustrated as he watched her on the family room floor playing with Sean. They were doing a dinosaur puzzle and hadn’t noticed him yet. First she had the boy trace the space where the piece fit, then run his finger around the piece itself before fitting the irregular cardboard into the right place.
“Good job.” She smiled at the boy.
What the heck did this have to do with helping Sean to speak again?
“Now,” she said. “Brush your finger over the next space like I showed you. Do the same with the piece that goes there, then put it where it belongs.”
Concentration furrowed Sean’s forehead as he complied with the first directive. Then he blinked at M.J., confusion in his eyes.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Trace the space.” When he nodded, she smiled. “Good. Now what?”
The boy thought for a few moments, then put the puzzle piece in place.
“Way to go, kiddo. High five.” She held up her hand and Sean slapped it.
The boy grinned at her before rolling around on the floor.
“I think we need to get rid of the wiggles,” she said, standing.
She shook her hands using a wrist motion and Sean imitated. He copied when she stretched her neck then moved her head from side to side before bending to touch her toes. That gave Gavin a good view of her fanny, which was covered by the usual black pants. Since she’d been coming, he’d dropped by the therapy sessions a couple of times for a few minutes and this was the first he’d noticed that she had some pretty nice curves going on. Then she smiled at Sean and the expression transformed her.
She was prettier than Gavin realized. That didn’t make him happy.
When he moved to the center of the doorway, Sean immediately saw him and grinned, then raced across the room, but there was no shouted greeting. Gavin’s chest tightened. He longed to hear his son say, “Daddy.”
Gavin brushed his hand over his son’s hair as the boy caught his leg. When he looked at M.J., he saw that her smile had disappeared and found he missed it.
“Hey, buddy. How are you?” When the child pointed to the puzzle, then M.J., Gavin said, “I see. You’ve been playing with M.J.”
“He likes puzzles,” she said. “He’s good at them.”
“Of course he is. He’s a Spencer.” But being good at puzzles wasn’t the progress Gavin expected. He met her gaze. “I’d like to speak to you. Do you have a couple minutes?”
“Of course.”
After Sean was settled in the kitchen with Lenore, Gavin looked across his desk at M.J. She sat stiffly, her hands linked in her lap.
He was still remembering her smile and irritated because he did. “I’ll get right to the point. As far as I can see, there’s no change in my son’s condition.”
“I agree.”
That surprised him. He was accustomed to spin and excuses when the desired result wasn’t achieved. M.J. stared back at him without apology.
“I thought there would be noticeable progress. Can you explain why there isn’t?”
“Yes.” Her chin lifted slightly. “Because Sean is a little boy, not a business project. He’ll go at his own speed, not the timetable you mandate.”
“Based on your glowing references, I just thought—” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“You thought I could snap my fingers, wiggle my nose and he’d be cured?”
“Something like that,” he admitted.
“This isn’t about a cure. It’s about regaining the function that was lost.” Her tone was patient, soft, soothing. “It’s going to take a lot of work. And that will take time.”
Gavin had noticed the way she was with Sean today. She’d been playful, firm, determined and lively. There was a sweetness about her that seemed to come from within. It appeared genuine and unforced, a natural extension of herself—very real. And that smile. She was pretty when she smiled, and he wanted to think of her only as plain.
“How long?” He heard the edge to his voice and suspected it was fear. He was afraid his boy would never be okay. If only this were a disease and ten days of antibiotics the course of treatment. He wanted his son back now. At the very least, he wanted guarantees and a time frame.
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t make a guess based on experience? When my father was dying of cancer, the doctors gave me an estimate and it turned out to be almost to the day,” he snapped.
“That’s an entirely different situation. Medical doctors have studies and data and tests that help them make