Matt shot her a sardonic look. “Watch those rose-colored glasses, Dr. Edwards. They distort your vision.”
“Sounds pretty cynical to me,” Jane said, speaking up for the first time. “What’s the matter, Mr. Dolan—don’t you like kids?”
Matt shrugged. “I like them okay. Actually I haven’t been around children a lot, so I haven’t thought much about it one way or another.”
“Ah, I see,” Jane said as though that explained everything, and turned back to the sinkful of dishes.
“Look, this has nothing to do with me. Those kids are your problem, not mine. I just thought you ought to know Tyrone’s background.”
“Thank you, Detective. However, I assure you, I am apprised of every child’s case history before he or she ever comes here.”
“Fine. Suit yourself. It makes no difference to me.” Matt downed the last of his coffee and struggled to his feet. “It appears I’m stuck here whether I like it or not. You’re probably not any more thrilled than I am, so I just want you to know that, other than mealtimes, I’ll stay out of your way. I’d appreciate the same courtesy in return.”
Gritting his teeth against the vicious stabs of pain, he limped to the doorway that connected his room to the kitchen. There he paused and turned back to look at Maude Ann.
“As for the kid, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter Four
Matt didn’t come out of his room the rest of the evening, nor did Maude Ann catch so much as a glimpse of him during the next four days, except during meals.
At those times he was distant, speaking only when necessary. He made no effort to join in the mealtime conversations. Inexplicably, little Debbie seemed to find him fascinating, but he barely acknowledged her chatter, and he ignored Tyrone’s muttered digs. Matt simply ate his food as quickly as good manners allowed and left.
Maude Ann told herself that was fine with her. If he did not want to be sociable, then she, Jane and the children would keep their distance.
His physical condition troubled her. He was in a great deal of pain, she could tell, and it did not seem to be lessening, nor was he regaining strength as he should. However, she reminded herself repeatedly that Matthew Dolan was not her responsibility. Besides, Matt made it crystal clear with every word, look and action that he did not want her help.
It wasn’t easy for Maude Ann to remain aloof. Nurturing came as naturally to her as breathing, and no matter how antisocial his behavior or how hard she tried not to, she still worried about him. Whether or not he wanted to accept it, he did need help.
Still, Matt was a proud man, and she knew any offer of help would not be appreciated. Maude Ann promised herself that she would respect his wishes and leave him alone.
Her resolve held only until his fourth night at the lodge.
That evening, after cleaning the kitchen and supervising baths and teeth brushing, Maude Ann, Jane and the pajamaclad children settled down in the huge living room as they did every night. While the younger ones watched an animated movie on television, Maude Ann and the older boys and girls played a board game. Jane sat in a rocking chair by the massive stone fireplace, contentedly crocheting an afghan.
Maude Ann was feeling smug and proud of herself for the self-restraint she had shown. Not only had she resisted the urge to aid Matt in any way, she had behaved as though she wasn’t even aware of his struggles.
However, as had happened every night since he’d been there, while she laughed and talked with the children, she found that she was also keeping one ear cocked for sounds of distress from Matt’s room.
Between chores and play and picking berries in the woods, the children had worn themselves out that day. When all her exhausted charges were settled in for the night, Maude Ann went from room to room for one last peek, pausing in each to gaze at the sleeping children snuggled in their beds, their young faces slack and vulnerable and so heartbreakingly innocent. As she studied them, her chest swelled with emotion.
Henley Haven was an enormous responsibility that required long hours of hard work, patience and sacrifice. Many people thought she was crazy for taking on such a burden, and there were times when she questioned her own sanity. Yet, as always at night during this quiet time, she knew a sense of peace and fulfillment that erased all doubt and made it all worthwhile.
Maude Ann closed the door on the last pair of sleeping children and made her way down the hall to her own quarters.
There she filled the tub and treated herself to a long hot soak. Afterward, she showered and shampooed her hair, then crawled into bed, sighing with pleasure. Though only a little after ten, it had been a busy day and she was exhausted.
The clean smell of soap and bath talc clung to her skin and mingled with the fresh, outdoorsy scent of cool cotton sheets that had been dried in the sunshine. Smiling, she closed her eyes and snuggled her face into the down-filled pillow and waited for sleep to claim her.
An hour later she was still waiting. Finally, thoroughly irritated, she threw back the covers donned her robe and stomped, barefoot, out of the room. She loped down the stairs, her clean hair dancing around her shoulders with each impatient step, and her long batiste gown and robe fluttering out behind her.
In the kitchen she started to flip on the overhead light, but thought better of it after a glance at the closed door of Matt’s room. She had forgotten about him.
A line of light shone from under the door, and she heard the faint sound of the shower running. She wasn’t going to wake him, at least. However, neither was she anxious to have any contact with him. Forcing herself to move with more caution, she crossed the room and turned on the dim light above the kitchen stove.
A few minutes later she had just removed a mug of warm milk from the microwave when she heard a thud from Matt’s room, followed immediately by a groan.
Acting on instinct, without stopping to think of what Matt’s reaction might be, she put the mug down, dashed to the door of his room and burst inside.
“Detective Dolan? Are you all right?” she called, darting a quick look around.
The bedspread was turned down, but the bed was empty. The lamp on the nightstand gave off a pale glow that barely illuminated the room, but the door to the en suite bathroom stood ajar, and a narrow rectangle of bright light spilled out. Maude Ann headed in that direction. Halfway there another groan sounded.
“Detective, are you—” She gasped and jerked to a halt in the bathroom doorway.
Matt lay sprawled facedown on the shower floor, struggling to climb to his hands and knees. Overhead the steaming spray beat down on him full force. Every time he tried to gain purchase on the slick tile, he slipped and fell flat again, with painful results.
The shower stall had been built to accommodate John Werner’s massive proportions, making it bigger than many small bathrooms. Prone in the middle of the floor, Matt could not reach the sides or anything else on which to brace himself.
Recovering her senses, Maude Ann rushed forward and snatched open the shower door. “For heaven’s sake, wait! Don’t try to get up by yourself!”
“Hey! What’re you…doing in here?” Matt groaned. “Get the hell out. I’m naked.”
“Most people are when they shower.”
“Funny. Now, will you leave? I can…manage on my own.”
“Oh, yes, I can see that,” she replied, giving him a dry look. “Really, Detective, you’re being foolish. I am a doctor,