For Love Or Money

* * *

DAWSON’S POTTY-TRAINING UNDERWEAR had leaked during the night. Not only were his sheets soaked but his blanket was, too. Stripping the bed down to the plastic cover that protected the mattress, Janie thought about the shower she’d intended to take while Dawson’s movie kept him occupied.

She’d hoped to wash her hair. Maybe put on a little makeup. Not as much as she’d had on the day before. She wasn’t going on television.

But neither did she want to treat her afternoon guests to the shock of her bare, dull, worried-looking face.

She’d hoped to find something halfway cute to wear.

Instead she’d climbed into the first handy thing—a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt she’d had on the night before to ward off the chill—and used the limited hot water to wash her son’s bedding. Made some of her campaign calls. And felt guilty for bothering people on Sunday morning.

* * *

AT NOON, HAVING watched his movie twice, Dawson left his seat on the carpeted floor, came over to the linoleum, opened the pantry door and pulled peanut butter off the shelf. Bending down, he flipped the latch on the shelf below and took bread out of the box. On tiptoe, he slid both up onto the kitchen counter. Right next to where Janie was sitting at the Formica-topped table.

“Eee,” he said, looking at the ingredients of his sandwich, not at her.

She grinned. Wanting to call Cor and Joe. She’d been certain he was making choices when, the week before, he’d opened the pantry door and brought her a can of tuna. Every day since, whenever they were home, she’d waited as mealtime approached to see if he’d know he was hungry and tell her what he wanted to eat. Dinner the previous night had been SpaghettiOs. Breakfast that morning, frozen waffles he’d pulled from the side-by-side refrigerator that had come with their small rental home.

Just as she was about to get up from the lists of numbers and pre-scripted phone messages she’d been hired to deliver, the four-year-old turned and headed back for the pantry door on his short legs. Inside, he pulled out a can of peaches. Tiptoed up to shove them on the counter. And then crossed his arms and looked at her.

Janie laughed.

He laughed, too. A full-bodied, husky sound that filled her heart to its brim.

“Eee!” he screamed, jumping from foot to foot as quickly as he could and then dropping down to his butt to stare up at her.

“Let’s get you to the potty first,” she told him. And had to hurry to keep up as he ran to the bathroom, yanked a new pair of potty-training underwear from the cupboard and proceeded to take off his sweatpants. He knew what it was all about. Knew the point. Was even, according to his doctor, feeling the sensations.

His muscles just weren’t developed enough yet to give him the control necessary to be able to “hold it” for any length of time.

They’d get there eventually. And until then, potty-training underwear were an easy fix. Easy...and expensive. Insurance didn’t cover them. And neither did Dillon.

* * *

KELSEY WANTED HIM to make her mother’s bourbon pork twice on Sunday. It had turned out great the first time. She’d just wanted him to work a little faster. And to make certain he could prepare it perfectly twice in a row. The first official competition was being taped the following Saturday and his schedule was completely full this coming week.

His first entry was the pork dish. The ingredients would be in his kitchen on set. He couldn’t take in any notes, let alone a written recipe.

Kelsey had her counter filled with notes. Gave him a critique after each session. And never mentioned the little boy they were going to see that afternoon.

The unease that had settled upon him sometime during the night came back to haunt him. He knew his daughter. Knew her heart and soul. Even if he didn’t always understand her thoughts. Even if her emotions weren’t always clear to him these days. He knew her.

Yet...

“Kels?” They were on their way to Janie Young’s house. Her neighborhood was across town from theirs. The houses were smaller. No gated communities with private pools and other amenities.

“Yeah?”

She’d changed from the flannel pants and tank top she’d had on at the house into jeans and a T-shirt with her favorite pony character on it. Her hair was in a ponytail. And her sweetness nearly choked him up.

“Why did you push so hard to spend time with Dawson Young?”

He didn’t want to doubt her. Hated that he was doing so. Felt like total crap. And yet...there was so much he wasn’t getting about her these days. Like, what he could and could not call her. Was this a “squirt” day or a no-“squirt” day?

“I didn’t.”

When he glanced over, hoping her expression would tell him something, all he had was a glimpse of her ponytail. Her face was turned toward her window.

“Yes, you did.” He pulled out the firm tone. If there was any chance she was... Well, he would not be a party to it. Or enable her to be a party to it, either.

He’d drop out of the competition immediately.

There were worse things than watching your child suffer from clinical depression. Like watching her sell her soul, for instance.

She shrugged. “I just wanted to meet him. That’s all.”

“Kelsey...”

“What?”

“Are you...?” He couldn’t even get the words out. His heart told him he was wrong. Emphatically.

But it made sense.

“Am I what?”

She was staring at him now. All wide-eyed. Stopped at a light, he studied her.

“Are you hoping that by becoming friendly with Dawson you can somehow find out the secrets to his mother’s—”

“What!” Her shriek filled the car. And then some. “I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing! Oh, my gosh!”

She sounded like he’d just accused her of murder. He felt as though he had.

They rode in silence for a few blocks. The rift between them deepening, becoming a chasm, a sinkhole he could lose her in...

Reparation was up to him and he panicked as he scrambled for answers.

“For the record, I never felt like you’d do such a thing.”

“Then why ask?” Her accusatory tone reminded him of her mother. Not that he’d tell her that. Ever.

Lil had had her issues, sure, but she’d been a great mother. And a good wife, too. He’d loved her. Truly loved her. He’d never missed her more than he did in that minute.

“Because I don’t understand why, after months of not caring about anything, you suddenly care so much about this kid.” That didn’t come out right. “I get that he’s cute,” he added. Even he’d felt something when the mother and son duo had lit up the television screen on a rather dreary Thanksgiving day. “But he’s not the only cute child we’ve run across in the past year.”

“She’s a single mom trying really hard.”

“She’s not the only single mother we’ve come across, either.”

“He’s special, Daddy. You can tell that just by looking at him...”

He understood that. Somewhat. And liked it a whole lot better than his sabotage theory.

“And the way she looks at him. The way he seems to matter more than even winning a spot on the show...”

He remembered that Thanksgiving Day show—the way the boy had been the one to notice that Janie Young had won...

“He’s lucky that he has her,” Kelsey was saying, her voice soft. “That she loves him so much. And I just...”

He was really starting to get it now. The boy had his mother’s love. Totally. Completely. Something that Kelsey was drawn to be a part of. If she could.

“I feel guilty,” she continued. Blowing his newest theory.

“Guilty?”

“Yeah, because, like, when we win, that means she’s going to lose.” She shrugged again. “We can’t do anything about that, because, you know, there can’t be two winners. So, I was just thinking that where we can help out, we should. You know, with her being the only other local contestant, we’re going to be living in the same town even after the show and might run into her and I just...feel like we should make this as easy on her as we can.”

And maybe, without knowing it, she was drawn to the mother/child closeness? The bonding she was missing?

Burke had no way of knowing. Of predicting what might happen next. Or, apparently, of preventing the disappointment he was convinced he was bringing upon his daughter. One step at a time. He just knew, as he pulled into the small, garage-less drive, that he loved his daughter more than life. And that he was ill-equipped to guarantee her happiness.

* * *

WHAT ON EARTH had she been thinking? Inviting a doctor and his daughter to her tiny house situated in a neighborhood without the community landscape standards that governed most of the neighborhoods in Palm Desert. Her place was clean—well, picked up, at least. But other than the two bedrooms and one bathroom, it had only the L-shaped living and kitchen area. Plenty big enough for just her and Dawson.

She was starting to feel slightly claustrophobic as the time neared for their guests to arrive. Funny—she never felt that way when Cor and Joe were over.

Standing in the opened closet doors at the far end of her kitchen, pulling Dawson’s twin sheets out of the dryer, she watched as her son sat, knees apart and legs crossed at the ankles, on the floor in front of the television, playing the video game Joe had bought him for Christmas. A nonviolent game with a cute little character who had to run and jump and face a lot of challenges on his way to wherever the next level would lead him.

And she wondered how he’d appear to the strangers coming to their home that afternoon. Would they see Dawson for who he was?

“Gah!” Dawson’s rounded shoulders jerked downward, his little neck having to tilt back even farther than normal for him to see the television.

“Gah!” The passion in his voice as he urged his man on made her smile. Just that quickly she was awash with the warmth of love she felt for her little guy. And then assailed with guilt for the thoughts she’d been having. Thoughts of him appearing less than perfect to others. And her caring at all what they thought.

He’d played all of his exercise “games” with her in great humor. Had worked hard to hold on to the large pencil and draw straight lines and then circles on plain paper. And she wanted him relaxed and in a good mood when their guests arrived.

Guests he didn’t yet know about.

Dawson tended to take life as it came. A lesson she tried hard to learn from him.

“Hey, bud, you want to help Mommy make your bed?” It was a long shot with the video-game controller in his hand, but she always asked for his help when doing anything she knew he could attempt.

Washing floors. Dusting.

A lot of the time he joined in happily. Most particularly when she was cleaning bathrooms. He loved swirling the brush around the toilet water.

While his game ran on without him, he looked at her, his mouth hanging open as it so often did.

He grinned at her. She stared at his drool. And wished she’d never invited the Carters over. Had been wondering, since the moment she’d issued the invitation, what on earth she’d been thinking.

Or, more accurately, why she hadn’t been thinking.

Yeah, Dr. Burke Carter was a handsome guy. Maybe the most compelling man she’d ever met.

But she was a mother now. Full time. First and last.

As Dillon had been quick to point out every time he wanted her complete attention and didn’t get it. Which had been at least once a day...

Jumping as the doorbell rang, Janie shook her head.

“Gah!” Dawson, apparently unconcerned by her lack of response to his smile, was back at his game.

Arms still filled with sheets, she stood there. And the bell rang a second time.

“Dooo,” Dawson said, throwing down the control and rolling onto his knees to stand.

Dropping her sheets onto the only armchair in the room, Janie went after him. He’d just learned how to unlock the front door and she didn’t want him running outside in his bare feet.

Nor did she want him facing their inquisitors alone.

She hadn’t even had a chance to wipe his face.

He was her angel.

Perfect in his imperfection.

She would die before she’d have anyone look down on him in his own home.

CHAPTER SEVEN

AS A PHYSICIAN Burke came into contact with people from all walks of life. While he didn’t make house calls, or visit any of his patients at home, he was fully aware that not everyone lived in a neighborhood like his own.

Heck, even as plebeian as it was, Janie Young’s street was nicer than the one he’d grown up on. At least during the two weeks out of a month he’d been with his dad.

He just hadn’t expected the beautiful cook to reside in such a plain place. Weed-spattered hard dirt for a front yard. A porch that could have looked cute with a chair or plant on it.

And...

The door pulled open and she was there...or at least, someone was. It took him a second to realize that the frowning woman opening the door to them was the same perfectly turned-out beauty they’d seen on set the day before.

“Doo!”

Burke glanced down at the husky utterance in time to see Dawson’s backside as he raced away.

Typical toddlers could create havoc without warning. He could just imagine the kinds of things that could crop up with a special-needs child.

“We can come back another time if you’d rather.”

In sweats, a ponytail that was half falling out, and completely bare-faced, the woman didn’t look like she’d been expecting company.

Which was when it hit him that she’d forgotten their appointment.

“Come on, Kels. We can do this another time.” He turned to head back to the car.

“No!” Janie’s voice called out to him, “Really, you’ve come all this way and it’s fine.”

“It wasn’t that far. And we were going to have dinner on this side of town anyway.” He named a family-owned Italian place known around the entire valley for its authentically delicious cuisine.

“Dad!” Kelsey frowned at him. “We were not! We’ve got p—” She stopped. Glanced at Janie. “Well, dinner’s already made,” she finished. And then added, “Besides, this is my only chance to meet Dawson before next Saturday, and if he’s at the studio, I won’t be able to help out if I don’t meet him...”

“She’s right,” Janie said. “I was expecting you. I’m just running behind today. Come on in.” Her smile came out.

And hit Burke in the gut. Those lips softened in an upward curve, the light in her vivid blue eyes held his gaze—even more than the figure her sweats didn’t disguise.

“Please come in.”

Embarrassed that she’d had to ask another time, Burke followed his daughter inside.

* * *

JANIE DIDN’T KNOW for sure what she’d been expecting. Probably nothing good, which was why she’d been in a tizzy all day long. But it certainly hadn’t been the way Kelsey’s blue-eyed gaze sought out Dawson and stayed with him. Almost to the point of rudeness. Except that the girl’s expression seemed to be filled with a compassion beyond her years.

“Dawson?”

The boy grunted when he heard Janie’s voice—his attention seemingly on the little figure racing around the screen. The music coming from the set gave a downward spiral, signaling a lost life, but Dawson pushed buttons and had the critter up and running within seconds.

“Dawson,” she said again, more firmly.

What, if anything, the boy paid attention to when he was enrapt with whatever was in front of him, no one knew at this point. But she knew he’d heard her.

And understood her, too.

He continued to play. Janie felt the heat creeping up into her cheeks and hated herself for it. Dawson was being Dawson.

And she’d be darned if she was going to start wanting him to be someone different. She, of all people. What was the matter with her?

What was it about this family that she felt the need to impress them?

Because she had to be good enough to best them on television?

Taking a deep breath, she felt calm come over her. And walked over to stand between Dawson and the television set. “Time to turn it off,” she told him, aware of the two people standing just a few feet away, still behind the couch that separated the foyer from the living room, and yet focused now on what mattered.

She could turn off the television herself. Dawson might just smile up at her and move. He might not. No matter, they had their ways of doing things and she was not going to do him the disservice of changing them.

Not for anyone.

“Gah!” Dawson blurted loudly, continuing to press the buttons on his controller.

She couldn’t see behind her, but recognized the sound when another life was lost.

“Time to turn it off,” she said again, her voice as patient as usual. The air in the room was cool and comfortable, light, as she stood there, remembering who she was. Who they were. Until it was just her and Dawson, alone in their own world.

“Dawson, time to turn it off,” she said again. As she would until he minded her. What part of his stubbornness came from lack of putting two and two together, and what part was typical rebellion, she didn’t know.

What she knew was that her son had to learn his boundaries and the only way he was going to learn was if she taught him.

She couldn’t do it for him. He had to do it for himself. Whether he wanted to or not.

“Dawson...”

“Kaaaayyy.” Dawson dropped the game console. Picked up the TV remote. Pushed the off button. And then sat, facing her knees, his arms folded across his chest.

She wanted to hug him. And looked at her guests instead.

“Come on in,” she said. “Have a seat.” She motioned toward the couch. And sat on the edge of the sheet-filled chair.

“Dawson, you want to show Kelsey and Burke your cars?” Realizing how familiar she sounded, she looked at the orthopedist. “He’s seen so many d-o-c-t-o-r-s in his lifetime that the word upsets him,” she said.

“You have cars?” Kelsey asked, sliding down to the floor and then, on her butt, scooting over to Dawson. “I used to have some cars,” she told him. “Until my mom took them away because she didn’t think they were good for little girls to play with. Can I see your cars?”

Dawson didn’t even look her way. But he got up, went to the hall closet and pulled open the door to reveal the shelves of neatly stacked toys and games. Taking out his case of cars, he brought it over and dropped it on the floor in front of Kelsey. He then went back and grabbed the plastic track that Joe had bought him—a one-piece circle that stood on end beneath the bottom shelf—and carried that back, too.

He half dropped, half tossed it at Kelsey. It hit her knee and, with a startled look at Janie, the girl backed up.

Dawson picked up the track again, brought it close to Kelsey and dropped it a second time, this time falling down in front of her.

“Gah!”

Janie waited. Holding her breath, mostly.

Dawson sat, cross-legged, hands in his lap.

Kelsey reached for the case of cars, looking between Dawson and Janie. “Can I see them?” she asked when no one reacted.

Dawson’s nod was short. Succinct. And Janie had to restrain herself from laughing out loud.

Her boy was a sucker for a pretty girl. Who’d have thought?

* * *

WHERE BURKE MIGHT have found himself eager to be finished with Sunday afternoon’s appointment and have dinner—preferably at the Italian place and not at home eating a pork recipe he’d prepared twice that day—instead, he sat in Janie Young’s living room, chatting up the beautiful woman like he was on a date.

The turning point had come when Dawson had suddenly stood from his cars, grabbed Kelsey’s hand and dragged her down the hall—off of which he counted three doors. Assuming one was a bathroom, that left two for bedrooms.

“Most of his toys are in his room,” Janie had said as she’d watched the pair depart.

Her smile was full-on now. And he wondered if he’d ever seen a woman who looked so attractive while doing absolutely nothing to help herself appear that way.

He scooted down to the end of her dark brown leather couch. “You don’t have to sit on the edge of your seat,” he told her. “I don’t bite.”

Her legs looked longer than he’d remembered as she got up and walked toward him—folding them under her as she settled on the other end of the couch.

“I won’t let him monopolize her for long,” she assured him. “But this couldn’t have gone better if she wanted to get to know him.”

“She’s a sensitive kid,” Burke said, lowering his voice, though he didn’t think Kelsey could hear him while talking at the same time. She’d been conversing with Dawson nonstop since they’d left the room, though he didn’t see how she could understand any of the boy’s grunts.

“She seems very sweet.” Janie’s gaze was direct. Not shy at all. Unusual for someone so soft-spoken.

He was curious about her. In so many ways.

He nodded. “In some ways she’s old beyond her years.”

“I just don’t understand why she’s so taken with my son. I mean, my world revolves around him, but other people usually have to get to know him before they appreciate him—”

When her voice broke off, Burke wanted to know where the words had led her—someplace she’d chosen to travel to alone. He wanted to know badly. Not just with the curious interest of a stranger.

The idea—him wanting access to the inner workings of her mind—bothered him. As did whatever compelled him to be honest with her.

“She’s convinced I’m going to win the show,” he told her. They were competitors. Contestants going after the same prize. He wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. Or lure her into thinking he was forgetting that. “And so she wants to help you out in any way she can to soften the blow.”

“So she’s got plans to aid the other six contestants, as well?” She sounded mildly curious. Nothing more. And didn’t seem the least offended—or surprised—by his comment.

That kind of bothered him, too.

Which bothered him.

“No. Just you.”

“Just me? Why just me?”

“Because you’re local.”

She nodded. As though he’d answered all her questions. As though, if he didn’t keep talking, he’d lose what interest of hers he had.

“My wife was a chef.” He blurted what had already been revealed during his introduction the day before. And added, “Kelsey’s mom,” as if that wasn’t self-explanatory.

She nodded again. Seeming interested. But adding nothing.

“She died suddenly, unexpectedly, and Kelsey’s taken it really hard.”

Those gorgeous brows drew together and he could have sworn he saw an actual shadow cross Janie Young’s face. “I’m so sorry,” she said, the softness in her voice seeming to convey more emotion than yelling would have done. “I knew...the introductions yesterday and all...that you were a widower, but I had no idea it was recent. Or sudden.”

Sudden seemed to make it worse for some. His jury was still out on that one. During his residency he’d seen too many families whose lives were forever changed by debilitating long-term and ultimately fatal illness.

“It’s been almost two years,” he said. Needing her to know that he wasn’t so recently widowed made no sense to him.

Guilt surged. Just because he was familiar with its company didn’t mean he was at peace with it. Welcomed it. Or even handled it well.

A song started to play in the other room. Something about learning to brush your teeth. It was vaguely familiar.

Burke could hear Kelsey singing along.

“Because she’s been struggling, I wanted to take Kelsey on vacation over Thanksgiving. She insisted we stay home. That we cook a full dinner, using all of her mother’s recipes. And that we watch cooking shows all day.”

Janie nodded, a sad smile spreading across her face. “That’s when she saw Family Secrets.”

“She talked about Dawson all during dinner that day. Normally she focuses on the cooking, trying to take after her mother, I suppose. Anyway, she smiled when she talked about him. She doesn’t smile all that much these days.”