the idea of Harriet at Casita Verde. There could be more advantages to her visit than he’d thought. A clinic at the casita—a proper one—so that they wouldn’t have to send the children away to hospital would be a godsend. It near enough gave him physical pain each time they had to sign a child over to the state but their resources were stretched beyond reason. Perhaps with Harriet on their side...
Would she wear that form-hugging nurse’s uniform? he wondered. Then stopped himself. Re-dressing Harriet Monticello was not the route to getting funding. Not the way to stay focused.
He shook his head to clear it as Harriet slipped the chart onto a hook just inside Cora’s door. “I’m off to see a couple more of the kids. Did you want to come?”
It didn’t sound like an invitation and he needed to get his head straight.
“I think I’ll leave you to it. Make sure I’m at my best tonight.” He was about to give her a wink and a smile, but thought better of it. He was no Casanova, and this was a business trip...
He cleared his throat a bit too pointedly. ¡Qué quilombo! Wasn’t he the one who liked keeping things professional?
He tipped his head towards Cora’s room as they walked away. “Has she been here long? She seems to rely on you.”
“Only a couple of months. She’d been in foster-care, but the parents... The parents weren’t up to it.” Her lips tightened before she quickly shook off any judgment she’d been going to make.
More kudos to her. He was judgmental as hell when it came to backing out on a commitment like that. Better not to make one at all. That’s what he did. The only commitments he made were professional. It made life much easier.
Harriet pointed to a large, colorful chart with names and times on it. “The children know the shifts and have one person of their choice to call on when they’re feeling anxious. She hasn’t chosen yet, so I’m the interim ‘go to’ girl.”
“Is this part of your staffing thing?” How about sounding a bit more patronizing? He could’ve kicked himself.
“It’s part of being consistent with the children. Something, as you well know, most of these kids haven’t had.” She swept away a lock of blonde hair before continuing. “Cora, like a lot of the residents here, had been in a foster home. Well, several foster homes, and she also has minor ADHD that kicks up a notch with each change. The more anxious it makes her, the worse her epilepsy becomes, and the worse her epilepsy becomes—”
“The harder it is to place her,” Matteo finished for her. It was the same drill where he came from. The worse the medical condition, the less likely it was they’d find adoptive parents, let alone foster parents. Who wanted to open their wallets, let alone their hearts, to a child with so many hurdles to leap?
“Got it in one!” She smiled up at him, another one of those hits of connection pinging him straight in the chest. Practical, emotional and as committed as they got. This woman was a medical triple threat.
“It looks like we might have more in common than I thought.” Matteo gave her a rueful smile. “Professionally speaking, of course.”
Her smiled disappeared in an instant.
Why had he said that?
He knew exactly why he’d said it. To keep his emotions where he liked them. All tucked up in his very own...er... Christopher. But taking away that smile of hers? A bad move.
“Of course. Well, then...” Harriet’s voice became clipped. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish seeing the pa—the children and then get home to work on my lecture. I don’t want to be letting you down tonight. Professionally speaking, of course.”
Touché.
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