Charity looked up from the sink, her eyes widening as she noted the juice stain.

Anna laid the tray on the counter and smiled wryly. "I had a small accident," she explained.

"Sure you did," Charity muttered with a dry laugh, and lifted the plate from the tray. "Well, I'll be. Mr. Littrell ate his breakfast," she cried in open astonishment. "First time in six months that he's cleaned his plate. You are a miracle, girl. What did you do?"

Anna couldn't put a damper on the woman's enthusiasm. "I'm afraid that's a professional secret, but I promise to let you in on it before I leave."

Smacking her lips, Charity beamed a brilliant smile. "I always said that once Mr. Littrell started eating again he would walk. He won't ever be strong unless he eats."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Anna replied with a soft sigh. "But after such a large breakfast you should keep his lunch light. Nothing more than broth, but do me a favor and cook his favorite meal tonight."

"I will, Miss. That I will."

Pleased with herself, Anna walked down the hall to her room. She understood Brian's frustration. His story was a familiar one. His car had skidded on a rain-slick road and smashed into a tree. The bare facts had been related by Dr. Richardson. Only when Anna pried further did she learn he had lain in the twisted wreck for hours un an agony beyond description before anyone found him. The initial surgery had saved his life, but in his weakened condition the operation to relieve the pressure on his spinal column had to be delayed. Months passed be he was strong enough to endure the next difficult surgery. Now there were no guarantees. Dr. Richardson told her there was feeling in Brian Littrell's legs, but the pain remained intense, and Brian had decided to accept the wheelchair rather than endure the agony of learning to walk again.

Anna didn't need to be a psychologist to know that a man who resigned himself to a wheelchair had far more reason than pain. Something happened to make him lose the will to use his legs. She'd know what it was before finishing this assignment.

After six months, the bitterness had built a thick wall around him. It wouldn't be easy to crack that granite fortress, but Anna was determined. She wanted to be the one to help him.

Entering her bedroom, she paused again to take in the expensive decor. The room was decorated in a powder-blue color scheme: the wallpaper contained tiny bluebells, the azure carpet was lush and full. The owered bedspread matched the walls and drapes. Anna had seen pictures in magazines of rooms like this, but she'd never imagined she would be sleeping in one.

Money could buy a lot of things, and in Brian's case it had brought him the privilege of choosing life in a deluxe model wheelchair.

Opening her closet, she took out and anged into a fresh uniform. She rinsed out the juice stain in the private bath off the bedroom. Once she'd turned off the water, she could hear the angry words coming from the room next to hers. Apparently Brian wasnt in any better mood.

Dennis had seemed the perfect type to deal with Brian. He was an easygoing, laid-back sort of person who recognized a good thing when he saw one. His job entailed helping Brian bathe and dress each morning, stimulating his leg muscles with massage, and lifting weights.

Dennis Weston was a body man, and he had given free use of the equipment in the room off the kitchen -- equipment Brian had once used.

Now that she was here, she'd see to it that Dennis' duties were increased. She was going to need his help. One of the first things she planned to do was get Brian Littrell into his swimming pool whether he wanted to go or not. And for a time she was going to need Dennis to get him there.

She had finished reading over the medical reports kept by the previous nurses when Charity came to tell her Mrs. Littrell had arrived.

The older woman seated on a long white sofa, was the picture of grace and charm. She was delicate and fine-boned, her hair auburn and stylish. She glanced up and smiled when Anna entered the room. Anna watched as the smile died on her lips.

"Miss Watson, I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you," she said with a frown.

"Is something the matter?"

"It's just that I expected someone older," she admitted with a quiet concern.

Anna's back remained straight as she sat across from the older woman. "I'm twenty-two," she said in a deliberate, casual tone.

"But Dr. Richardson explained that..." She let the remainder fade into silence.

Anna's eyes held the older woman's. "I can assure you that I'm perfectly qualified for the job."

"Oh, my dear, I didn't mean to imply otherwise. It's just that there is so much resting on you. I'm at my wits end with that son of mine. I've all but given up hope."

"To do so would be premature."

"Have you met Brian?" Her eyes her anxious.

"This morning."

"And?" She inquired gently.

"And he's bitter, resentful, in pain, mad as hell at the world and everyone in it."

"His last nurse stayed only one day."

"I may not look like much, Mrs. Littrell," Anna strived to assure the woman, "But I can guarantee it's going to take fare more than a few angry words for me to pack my bags."

The woman looked relieved. "I can't tell you how pleased my husband and I are that you agreed to take this assignment. Dr. Richardson has done nothing but rave about you, and quite honestly I don't know how much longer my husband can continue managing the company."

"Pardon?"

Jackie Littrell lifted the china teacup to her lips and took a sip before continuing. "I'm sorry dear. I assumed Dr. Richardson told you."

"No, I'm afraid he didn't."

Jackie sighed, drawing Anna's rich blue eyes to the carefully disguised age lines that fanned out from the older woman's eyes and mouth. "My husband came out of retirement after Brian's accident. I'm afraid the pressure is more than Harold can cope with. We'll be forced to sell the business unless Brian can assume some of the responsibilities soon."

Anna's face was marred with a thoughtful frown. "I'd like to talk to your husband when it's convenient. I can't make any promises, Mrs. Littrell, but I would think involving your son in the business again would be in his own best interest."

"Yes, but..." She looked disconcerted, and Anna noted that her hands shook as she replaced the cup to the saucer. Brian's convinced he will never walk again. He's given up."

"Mrs. Littrell, I think you should realize that a man like your son never gives up. Although he wouldn't let you see it, he's fighting. No matter what he says or does."

The woman paused, her hands folded in her lap. "You're very wise for your years." She regarded her thoughtfully. "I apologize for doubting. I can see that you are exactly what Brian needs."

"I hope I am," she murmured softly, "for your sake."

The soft hum of the wheelchair sounded behind them. Brian's look was hooded as he moved into the room.