Todd swore.

"You have to agree."

"No way." Todd shook his head. "I don't even know I want the first one."

Morgan walked over to the closet and eased out a box. He set it on the bed beside Todd and watched the kid's eyes widen. Todd tore open the carton and pulled out the portable TV. "You've gotta be kiddin' me!"

He'd gauged that one well. Rick, and even Stan, might spend their days just fine with no television, but Todd had griped constantly. He let the kid ogle the set until he'd satisfied himself, then looked up.

"What's the other thing?"

Morgan went to the closet again and pulled out the phonics and reading program he'd ordered from the radio after hearing the ad. Any one of any age can learn to read with our back-to-basics program. He set it on the bed beside Todd. "The deal is you work on this with Stan and learn to read." Stan was a teacher, after all. "The TV's your reward."

Todd stared at the plastic carton that held the reading program and chewed his lower lip. "I know how to read."

"That's not what you told me before."

"I can read some stuff. I just don't know how to figure all of it out."

"So here's your chance." Morgan hoped the lure of the TV would be enough to win him to the idea.

Todd stared at the TV a long moment, then shrugged. "I guess."

Morgan smiled. "Let's run it by Stan." He slid the TV back into its carton and handed it off to Todd, then took the reading program and led the way downstairs.

Rick and Stan were still in the dining room, though Marta and Noelle had gone into the kitchen. Both men looked up as Morgan motioned Todd in around him, gripping the carton protectively. Morgan waited in the doorway as Todd approached his foster dad.

"Morgan gave me this." He looked at Morgan, then back. "I can have it if you teach me to read."

Not exactly the words Morgan would have chosen, nor the tone, confrontational and defensive at once.

Stan drew his brows together. "What do you mean?"

"You probably thought I was stupid. But I didn't get to school much when they taught the kids how to read. Morgan thinks that'll help." Todd jerked his chin toward the reading program. Morgan handed it over.

"You never told me you couldn't read." Stan looked from one to the other of them as he took the program.

"Yeah, well, I don't really care. But I don't get the TV unless you teach me, so are you going to?"

Morgan winced. Maybe he should have spoken for Todd.

Stan looked down at the package, turned it over and read the back, then looked up. His expression was similar to Jimmy Stewart's in It's a Wonderful Life, sort of pleading and betrayed. Didn't he see it was his chance to bond and help Todd succeed? What kind of teacher was he?

Stan swallowed, then spoke softly. "I'll be glad to help you read, Todd. But we'll have to talk about the TV."

"The deal is I learn to read, I get the TV." Todd turned to Morgan. "I can have it while I'm learning, right?"

This was not going the way he'd expected. What was Stan's problem? "Why don't you leave it on the table for now." Morgan jerked his head toward the doorway. "Let us talk."

Todd did not want to let loose of the set, but Morgan sent him a confidential look that penetrated his resistance. Todd put the TV down and stalked out the door, swearing under his breath.

Morgan turned to Stan. "He told me a while ago he couldn't read very well. I thought this was an opportunity to correct that."

Stan's gaze was more direct than he expected, and there was a flicker of anger. "I don't believe in bribing kids."

"It's not a bribe. It's a reward. Something to strive for." Hadn't Stan ever heard of incentives? What thriving company didn't offer a bonus program for achievement? What teacher didn't stick stars on a chart?

"And what if he needs to raise a math grade? Do I get him an Xbox? Or a go-cart if he gets to class all week?"

Morgan glanced at Rick, typically silent but listening and observing it all. "The kid's going crazy with no TV. What does it hurt to let him watch an hour or two?"

"It's the precedent." Stan bore down on him doggedly. "I can't keep up with you, and I don't want to."

Morgan dropped his chin. So the TV was a big deal. He'd wanted a big deal to get through to Todd. He hadn't expected Stan to get worked up. It wasn't about keeping up or impressing Todd. It was to motivate, encourage him. But Stan did have a point about future expectations.

Morgan rested against the doorframe. "It's your call."

Stan stood up, still holding the reading program. "I appreciate your concern and your letting me know there's a problem. I just wish you'd've come to me first." He didn't add that Todd was his responsibility, but that was implicit.

Morgan nodded. "I'm sorry. It's my style to find a solution and act on it."

"Sometimes there isn't a quick fix. Putting a Band-Aid on a rotten limb won't keep gangrene from spreading. I could buy Todd's trust. But I'd rather earn it."

An admirable sentiment, which Stan was not accomplishing. But Morgan had overstepped. "What do you want to do?"

Stan shrugged. "I'll think about it, and pray about it."

And in the meantime Todd might combust. Morgan stepped out of his way. Stan left with the reading program under his arm. If he tried to make Todd learn and refused the TV, Morgan did not want to witness the result. He turned to Rick. "Hope he makes the right choice."

"You put him on the spot." Rick's voice was low as always, softly controlled yet annoyingly firm.

Morgan pulled out a chair and sat down. "It's called incentive. Everyone works better when there's something in it for them."

"Morgan ..."

"I know. I made Stan look bad. But he didn't have to. He could have seen it-"

"Your way?"

Morgan leaned the chair back on two legs. "What's he so uptight about?"

"Come on, Morgan. You drive in here with a hot new convertible, take Todd off for all kinds of fun-"

"Nothing Stan couldn't do himself. He thinks a thirteen-year-old kid wants to sight-see and scoop horse manure."

"It's his kid. At least his responsibility. What are you trying to prove?"

Morgan's throat tightened. "I'm not proving anything. I just want Todd to have what he needs."

"Why?"

Morgan looked hard at Rick. What kind of inane question was that? "You think a kid should go through life dropping out or misbehaving because he's lacking a skill that could turn it around?"

"That's not what I asked."

"What, then?"

"Why does it matter to you? You drop in here on a lark three, four times a year, but you think this kid's trouble is yours to solve?"

Morgan rocked on the back chair legs, Rick's words penetrating.

"Stan has the kid every day of the year. He's volunteered to raise him, to deal with his language, his attitude, his physical, spiritual, and emotional needs. And you come in like Santa Claus buying the kid gifts and making promises and undermining everything Stan's trying to do."

What really stung was how the truth sunk in. He had done that for years professionally. He could go in and blaze, then move on to the next project with little thought for the dimmed leaders in his wake. But Todd was not a project, a consultation; he was a person with a whole life ahead of him, a life that Morgan would not be a part of.

When had simply befriending Todd become a mission to right every wrong in his life? When he learned about Kelsey and felt the overwhelming helplessness? He'd been on a crash course to save the world since he entered Wharton, graduated with honors, and accepted the kind of positions men would kill for. A few years of that and he knew he wanted to be out on his own. His mind was tailor-made for turn-around management, but that didn't always apply to personal life.

He set the chair legs down and rested his elbows on the table, head dropped, hands clasped behind his neck. "You're right. I was way out of line."

"Your heart was in the right place."

"Doesn't make it easier for Stan." Morgan blew a slow breath through puckered lips. "Good thing I'm leaving."

"You just got here."

"A stopover on the way to Beauview."

Rick raised his eyebrows. "Going home?"

Funny how he and Rick both still called it home when it hadn't been home for either of them for years. But Morgan shook his head. "No. I want to see Kelsey before the transplant. I want her to know ..."

"What?"

"That I had nothing to do with sloughing her off."

Rick dropped his gaze. "Morgan." Disagreement, obvious in his tone, but he didn't argue. They both knew his mind was made up.

Rick finally looked up. "Are you leaving in the morning?"

"Right now."

"Driving through the night?"

Morgan shrugged. "It'll be easier than sleeping. I will, however, make my apology to Stan. He deserves that much. And say good-bye to Todd."

Rick nodded, then stretched. "Thanks for fetching Marta. That'll help a lot. I know it cost you."

Morgan smiled. "And you're dying to know how much."

"I'll get it out of Marta. Or Noelle will."

Morgan shook his head. "We made a pact. If you break her, it'll be an international incident."

Rick laughed softly. "Have it your way. I'm just glad she's here."

CHAPTER.

15.

Jill sat with Shelly and Brett around the table in her kitchen nook, determined not to give the suffocating depression a fresh foothold.

She thought again about her tutoring session with Joey that morning.

It helped to focus on the kids. Her primary purpose through the extended school year was to keep them interacting and maintain their base-level skills. She didn't introduce anything new, just played with what they'd learned through the regular school year. She did, however, encourage development in personal areas like correct conversational responses and self-control.

Joey's mother desperately wanted him to get potty trained and insisted that at nine, he could learn it if he wanted to. Jill had explained again that his brain didn't receive that signal as something he could process and act on, that it was common with autism. He might never connect a sensation to that behavior. But she understood the frustration, and at some level, so did he. He'd been particularly disruptive and agitated that morning.

She sighed and started picking up the cards Brett had dealt her. He was out of his uniform, wearing a Beauview PD T-shirt and sweats. He tossed a handful of M&Ms into his mouth. Hearts was Shelly's favorite game, so they sat now and arranged their final read-'em-and-weep hand. Jill held enough stinkers to consider shooting the moon.

They'd invited Dan, but he had plans, so they played three handed, which meant more cards and a kitty to the taker of the first dirty trick. Jill wondered what Dan's plans were, or if he meant to avoid their foursomes altogether after the last encounter. At this point so would she.

The phone rang, and the machine took it immediately, since she'd been disinclined to answer most of her calls.

"Hello, Jill. This is Cinda."

Jill rushed up and grabbed it, leaving her cards and her friends waiting. "Hi, Cinda." She leaned on the counter and forced herself to calm. Cinda had promised to keep her informed, but if it was more bad news ...

"Jill, Morgan's cross match was negative, no reaction between donor and recipient. They're compatible."

Jill dropped her head back, eyes closed. Oh, thank you, Lord.

"I'm calling from New Haven. They've admitted Kelsey for the pretransplant conditioning."

A rush of painful joy seized her. It was happening! Morgan matched. Forgive my unbelief! "Cinda, that's wonderful."

"I'm so grateful to you."

"Don't even say that. What happens now?"