cleared his throat, pain all too evident in his expression.
Mikala said gently, “Take your time.”
One of his hands balled into a fist. “I lost Kelly, but I was so grateful Luke survived. He was in the hospital for a week, recovering from a concussion and internal injuries. It was touch-and-go for two days and when he woke up, he didn’t remember anything that had happened the day of the accident or that night. I took him to therapists and he wouldn’t talk to them. He withdrew even more. I can’t get through to him. My dad can’t, either. When I found him at the bus station, he cried and screamed that he didn’t want to go home.”
Mikala could only guess what that had done to Dawson—how it had hurt him more deeply than he could say.
“I don’t know what to do for him,” he said in a low voice, as if the admission cost him. “When I found out you were a music therapist who came highly recommended, I came to the reunion believing the idea of you treating Luke seemed to be the best one because Luke loves music. He’s taken piano lessons since he was seven. And I think Miners Bluff will be good for us both.”
When she and Dawson had danced together at the reunion, an old attraction to him had tugged at her. But it had no place here. Dawson’s life was in turmoil and his son was his priority and would be hers, too.
Still, as their gazes held, the room seemed to shake a little. Yet Dawson was counting on her as a friend who could help his son. She would assist any child in this situation.
“I’ll do my best to help put Luke on a healthy emotional path. I can’t tell you I’m going to solve anything, Dawson, but I can at least try to get the two of you talking again.”
A light rap on the door startled them, and Mikala knew it must be her Aunt Anna. She didn’t have her in-session sign up. But if she didn’t answer the knock, her aunt would go about her business, knowing Mikala couldn’t be interrupted.
Glancing at Dawson’s face, she could see he hadn’t wanted to revisit the past, but he’d done it for his son’s sake. She assured him, “I don’t have to answer that.”
“Go ahead,” he said with a small smile and she could see he was glad for the break.
When she stood, her arm brushed Dawson’s shoulder. Again there was a quick meeting of their gazes, but neither said anything. She felt totally unsettled and was glad to open the door again and feel the cold breeze.
Her Aunt Anna smiled at her. “I saw the car, but your sign wasn’t turned around so I thought—”
“It’s okay. Come on in. Dawson Barrett’s here.” She didn’t say more. If Dawson wanted her aunt to know anything else, he would tell her.
Her aunt’s wavy, steel-gray hair attractively framed her face. She was wearing a jogging suit with a down jacket and her favorite pair of sneakers. Mikala’s heart contracted with love for this woman who had raised her. She owed her aunt more than she could ever repay and she loved her dearly.
Dawson stood and came forward, hand extended.
“Hello, Ms. Conti. It’s good to see you again.”
Aunt Anna never stood on ceremony. She wrapped her arms around Dawson for a hug. “Don’t give me that ‘Ms. Conti’ baloney. You called me Aunt Anna when you were a teenager. You can still call me that.” She stood back to take a better look at him. “Mikala told me you were at the reunion. She’s never forgotten you, you know. You were her white knight at the prom.”
Mikala wanted to crawl under the love seat, but Dawson chuckled. “I don’t know how much of a white knight I was.”
His green gaze rested on Mikala and she remembered everything about that night in vivid detail—her torn dress, the date who had tried to maul her in the back of his car, Dawson coming to her rescue when she’d called out. Even more than all that, she remembered Dawson’s gentle kiss on her forehead after he’d taken her home. She’d told her aunt what had happened.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Dawson turned back to Anna. “Did Mikala tell you I’m moving back to Miners Bluff?”
“No, she didn’t.” Anna waited for him to explain.
“I have a ten-year-old son. My wife died and he’s having a hard time. So I thought moving back here, giving him roots in a smaller community might help. Mikala’s skill as a music therapist is well-known. She’s going to spend some time with him.”
“Well, if anyone can help him get settled again, I’m sure she can. Is your son with you?”
“No, not yet. I came up today to meet with Mikala, to see the school and register him, to stay over and re-familiarize myself with what’s here. I’ll bring Luke up to Miners Bluff in a couple of weeks when his term in Phoenix ends.”
“I see.” Anna paused, looked at Mikala and then asked Dawson, “Do you have a place to stay tonight … or when you move back?”
“Not yet. I was going to check into a motel and look for something temporary until I find a house. I’m going to check around before I return to Phoenix.”
“If I could make a suggestion,” Anna offered.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Dawson responded with that smile that could disarm anyone. He’d always been an easy conversationalist. As senior class president and a basketball star, he’d had his pick of girls to date. Yet his circle of friends had been most important to him.
“January isn’t a prime tourist month in Miners Bluff,” Anna explained wryly. “So the bed-and-breakfast has two suites vacant, one on the first floor with one bedroom and one on the third with two bedrooms. You could have your pick. For tonight and for when you return. I’d even give you a weekly rate since you don’t know how long you’d need to stay.”
“Aunt Anna, Dawson might want something … different than the B and B.”
Actually, Dawson looked relieved. “No, I think the Purple Pansy might be perfect. Convenient for tonight. And just right for me and Luke. Staying here could be good for him. That is, if your biscotti and pie are part of the deal.”
Anna laughed. “You drive a hard bargain. But biscotti are always in the jar and I make pies twice a week. I never know who will drop in, or if I’ll get a last-minute reservation.”
“Could I take a look at the suites now?” Dawson asked.
“Well …” Anna drawled. “I have a meeting in town. But Mikala could show them to you.”
Her aunt hadn’t mentioned a meeting that morning when they’d spoken. She wasn’t trying to play matchmaker, was she? Because Dawson wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t sure she was, either—or would ever be.
Dawson was looking at her expectantly.
“Sure, I can show them to you. We should have enough time before your appointment.”
Mikala took her wool jacket from the coatrack behind the door, slipped it on and buttoned it up to the neck even though they weren’t walking very far. For some reason she felt as if she needed all of her defenses buttoned into
