It was crazy, but she’d thought about him from time to time since that brief meeting at the funeral. At times she’d wondered if her imagination had conjured up those deep blue eyes fringed with sinfully long eyelashes or the sculpted cheekbones. Nope. If anything, her memory hadn’t done him justice and her guilt deepened. She’d had no business noticing Brody while she’d been dating his brother, even if the cracks had already begun to show in their fledgling relationship.
She touched a hand to her brow. Plan your work and work your plan, Mary.
She’d tracked him down so Elliott could connect with family. So much for her plan of getting to know Brody, making sure of his character, letting him get used to the idea of being an uncle to Elliott. She didn’t want or need romance of any kind in her life, no matter how tempting the depths of those blue eyes. Roger had fooled her with his charming façade, and she wasn’t about to jump into another relationship. She blamed herself for not realizing Roger was one of those men who enjoyed the pursuit but not so much being a couple. And definitely not being a father. More fool her if she turned around and got involved with Roger’s brother, of all people. She had a son to consider in all her decisions from this point forward.
Pushing unproductive thoughts aside, she secured the drawstring at her waist. Too bad the deputy couldn’t get to her suitcase with her clothes. But at least with her purse and credit cards she could buy new clothes and pay for a motel room and anything she or Elliott needed. She’d received a severance package that included insurance for a short time and her natural tendency toward frugality ensured she had a decent bank balance to fall back on until she secured another job. She’d researched opportunities in the area and hoped to find something not too far away from Loon Lake and Elliott’s uncle.
Rather than try to get back on the gurney, she perched on a hard plastic chair to put her socks and sneakers on. Maybe the faster she got dressed, the sooner they’d bring Elliott. But when she bent over to pull a sock on, her headed pounded and the room swayed. She straightened, fighting the dizziness.
“Hey, hey, should you be up?” Brody dropped several bags and an empty car seat on the gurney. “Where’s Jan?”
“Who?”
“The nurse.” He glanced around the enclosed area as if he expected to find the missing nurse lurking in the corner.
“She went to get Elliott. They tell me he’s okay, but I need to see for myself.” She wanted her son, needed to feel his reassuring warmth and sturdy little body. Except for when she’d been working, she’d rarely been separated from Elliott. Even at work, he’d been in the nursery her employer had on the premises, so she often spent breaks or lunches with him. “Why won’t they bring him to me?”
Brody studied her for a moment, opened his mouth but shut it again. He bent and snagged the sock from her fingers. “Here, let me help you.”
He crouched in front of her and lifted her foot to rest on his thigh.
She drew in a sharp breath at the contact with his hard thigh muscles. Brody didn’t have the physique of a bodybuilder, but he was leanly fit, the kind of strength that came from physical labor, not hours in a gym.
“You okay?” He peered up at her. “You look kinda peaked again.”
“Yes... I’m...yes.” He was so close, the dark blue outer ring around his irises fascinated her.
He gave her one last look, then arranged the sock over her toes and slipped it on, repeating the process with the other.
The warmth from his thigh seeped into her foot. Her eyes stung and her throat clogged with emotion. When was the last time someone had treated her with such caring and kindness? Roger had given the appearance of solicitousness, but with the help of hindsight, she realized that’s all it had been—a façade. But this was real and what had started as an embarrassing situation had turned into something that felt intimate.
“Mary?” He looked up. “Where are your shoes?”
Pay attention to his words, not his lips. She scowled at the gold toes on her socks, but it was like trying to make sense of a spreadsheet written in Sanskrit. Why couldn’t she—Oh, yeah, she’d been attempting to put her socks and shoes on when Brody came in.
“Never mind. I see them over there.” He stood and retrieved her sneakers from the other side of the gurney.
Mary reached for the shoes. Despite looking like a pauper, she wasn’t someone who needed rescuing. She’d been taking care of herself for most of her twenty-six years. “I can do that.”
He ignored her outstretched hand. “I got it.”
He crouched again and put her sneakers on and tied the laces.
“Thank you.” So much for all her plans to demonstrate how she had everything under control, how she wasn’t looking for charity, how she was a strong, twenty-first-century woman. Brody needed to see her as Elliott’s mother, not as someone he needed to take care of, or worse, pity. Never again would she allow anyone to cluck over her and murmur, “You poor thing,” as those caseworkers had done. She and Brody were close enough in age to be considered contemporaries, equals.
“Someone’s been waiting to see you.” A nurse around Mary’s age came in carrying Elliott, who was babbling to a teddy bear clutched in his hands. He glanced up, and as soon as he spotted his mother, he burst into tears and reached for Mary.
Brody rose to his full height of several inches over six feet and stepped aside, but Mary wasn’t aware of his presence as she reached out to enfold Elliott in her arms. Ignoring her protesting muscles, she clasped onto his warmth, the stuffed animal crushed between their bodies, and rained kisses into his dark hair. Sobbing in earnest now, Elliott clung to her, his chubby fingers clenched around the soft flannel of her shirt. She rubbed his back in soothing strokes. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetie, Mommy’s here. Mommy’s got you.”
He lifted his head, tears clinging to his lashes, and sucked in air in short sobbing bursts. She could still hear the crunching noise as cars collided, feel the impact, and he was so young he wouldn’t understand what had happened. “Mommy’s here, sweetie.”
Mary’s brow furrowed as she spoke to the nurse over Elliott’s head. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
“Physically he’s fine. He’s had quite a fright. I ’spect he’ll be emotional and clingy for a few days. He’s not at the stranger-anxiety stage yet, so he did well with us until now.” The nurse rubbed a hand over Elliott’s riot of dark curls. “He’s just happy to have his mama.”
Brody watched the tearful reunion, his brows drawn together in a frightening glower. Her stomach clenched. Had she been wrong about him? Maybe he wasn’t the person she’d imagined him to be. She’d been wrong about Roger, so it shouldn’t be a surprise if she’d be wrong about Brody, too. Maybe this was a wasted trip.
“Brody?” An elderly woman with a purple volunteer button pinned to her chest appeared outside the opening to the curtain. “There’s a phone call at the desk for you.”
“For me?” He jerked his head back and turned to the newcomer. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”
The woman left, and he glanced back to Mary. “Wait right here. I’ll go see what this is about.”
“As if you wouldn’t want to wait for him.” The nurse sighed, then leaned toward Elliott. “Are you going to let me fasten you into your seat, sweetie?”
Elliott clung tighter, babbling something that ended with a hiccup.
“We’ll let him settle for a few more minutes,” the cheerful brunette said.
Mary hugged him close, needing the contact as much as he did. She tugged the toy clear of where it was wedged between their bodies and held it up. “Who’s this? Have you got yourself a new friend?”
“One of