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She was off to agreatstart. Nowhere in the manual that she’d read during all of her training was there a policy that stated she could speak to the parents that way. While she hadn’t exactly yelled at him, she’d basically told him he hadn’t been raising his child right.
Everything she’d said she’d meant. Opposition came from all sides when it came to autism. The ironic thing about Shane hiring her for this position had come after she’d gone through her training. There were several similarities between the way her brain worked and the way a typical child with autism thought. She’d never been diagnosed, but she’d always felt a little different—she’d just managed to hide it really well by keeping her nose in books.
When she was a child, she was great at pretending to be what others considered ‘normal.’ She’d honed her skills, and every so often, she could pull herself together to go out with friends to the club and dance. But those moments took a lot out of her, much like she assumed would happen with Mathew.
She slowed her steps as she drew closer and crouched down beside the boy. “Do you want to know what his name is?”
Mathew gave her a sideways look, his right hand still clutching his toy horse, his left rubbing the horse’s nose.
Dianna sensed more than saw Tristan approach. She tilted her head and let out a small laugh. “His name is Molasses. Isn’t that silly?”
Mathew’s face split into a grin and he looked at the horse again.
“I like him, too.” She shot a look over her shoulder, finding Tristan’s eyes boring into her. Unnerved by his stare, she forced herself to focus on Mathew.Hewas the reason she was here. And maybe after things got settled, she’d be able to find some common ground with his father.
2
Tristan
Tristan had worked with several people over the years. From speech therapists to behaviorists, he’d met them all. And every single one had been recommended to him by doctors or other specialists.
But not one of them had deigned to put him in his place and tell him he was viewing his son the wrong way.
Irritation was the first emotion he noticed when she’d lectured him. How dare she tell him how to raise his son? That’s what the father was supposed to do. The way she made it sound, he didn’t care about his son as much as he cared about the kid fitting in.
Didn’t all parents want that for their children? Mathew was in the second grade this year. And every time he was picked up from school, he didn’t seem to have any friends. His teacher couldn’t think of a single child in his grade who consistently played with him.
That was understandable considering the fact that Mathew didn’t speak unless he wanted to, which was pretty much only when it was people he was close to. How was he supposed to fit in with the other children if he wouldn’t speak to them?
All of those thoughts stomped around in his brain until he finally allowed them to slow down enough to get what Dianna was probably trying to get at.
Mathew was special in his own right, and forcing him to conform was what everyone around him did. Even his own father was guilty of that problem. A twinge of remorse sliced through his chest as he watched Dianna continue her chatting, not bothering to ask Mathew a single question. This was the first time Tristan had seen his son at ease with someone he’d just recently met.
There was something calming about her presence that he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe she had a point. Right now, she wasn’t expecting Mathew to do anything but be present.
Dianna stood and motioned toward the stall door. “You can go inside if you’d like. Molasses likes to be petted. We won’t be able to ride him until later, but you can see for yourself how big he is.”
Mathew beamed and nodded as he moved toward her. Dianna opened the door and Mathew slipped inside with her.
As soon as the stall door closed, Tristan leaned against it, resting his folded arms over the top. His focus was glued to the woman who had somehow managed to put Mathew at ease without coaxing or bribing him. She was a natural with him.
Every so often she’d glance in his direction then her focus would dart away once more. It gave him more opportunities to really study her. She had dark hair and brown eyes. Her voice was soft but firm. And when she smiled, he saw a hint of a dimple in her left cheek.
Dianna was pretty; there was no doubt about that. But there was more to her than that. Kind and genuine. That’s what it was. Even though she had told him he was doing something wrong, he couldn’t exactly fault her for it. He’d always appreciated it when someone could be blunt and tell him how it was. Mathew did the same thing. Even at the age of seven, his son didn’t mince words.
Dianna placed her hands on her hips and flashed Mathew a big smile. “Well, you’ve been on a long trip, from what I understand. How about I show you to your cabin?”
Mathew’s wide eyes bounced from Dianna to Tristan, then back. He moved out of the way and allowed Dianna to open the stall door so they could exit.
“If you’d like, we can assign Molasses to be your horse while you’re here. You don’t have to practice with any of the others if you don’t want to.” Dianna continued chattering as she walked beside Mathew and guided them out of the barn. Their feet chuffed in the snow until they made it to the sidewalk that would lead them to the cabins that had been built on the other side of the club.
Tristan’s thoughts drifted from Dianna to Erika. He hadn’t seen his ex-wife since Mathew was about two years old. As soon as she’d found out that Mathew was autistic, she’d bailed. It took at least three years for him to move past that betrayal. He’d thought she’d come to her senses, but when he’d gotten the divorce papers, he knew.
Erika didn’t want to be part of this family.
The lingering scar from that experience made it hard to trust anyone with Mathew and even harder to trust anyone with his heart. Five years later and his whole world revolved around Mathew and his needs.
Tristan peeked at Dianna, and a ghost of a thought lingered in his mind, haunting him. If he found someone like Dianna, maybe he could learn to trust again.
