When Morning Comes (15 page)

The greed in her mother's eyes didn't surprise her. “I'm not sure. We're going to a gallery opening tomorrow night.”

“Don't look at that pretty face of his and get taken,” her mother warned. “For once, be smart like me and not gullible like your father. Gallery means money.”

To her mother, it always came down to money. “I'll go fix dinner.”

*   *   *

Sabrina had anxiously waited almost forty-eight hours for this moment. She'd missed Cade when he made rounds Monday evening, but today, Tuesday, would be different. She adjusted the collar of her crisp new coral blouse, adjusted the twisted coral necklace, checked her makeup, smiled, then left the bathroom across the hall from her office. It was after six and Cade was in the hospital making evening rounds. She'd asked the charge nurse to notify her when he arrived because she needed to discuss one of their patients.

She stepped on the elevator, smiling and greeting people. She was aware she probably had a sparkle in her eyes that wouldn't be there if she wasn't anticipating seeing Cade. Getting off the elevator, she turned and saw his broad back immediately. Her heart rate increased, her breath fluttered over her lips.

If she got all hot and bothered just looking at his back, what would happen when she faced him? There was only one way to find out. She headed straight for him.

“Hi, Sabrina,” several of the nurses called to her.

“Hi,” she greeted. If she hadn't been watching Cade, she wouldn't have seen his shoulders tense. Two steps forward, two back. It was a good thing she didn't give up on what she wanted easily.

She walked to him and turned, leaning back against the counter of the computer station the doctors worked on to look down at him. “Hello, Dr. Mathis.”

His hands flexed the tiniest bit, then he looked up. “Ms. Thomas.”

She was hoping he'd call her by her first name at work as he did a few of the staff members. Patience, she reminded herself. “I wanted to speak with you about a couple of your patients.”

“Mrs. Ward is doing well. I plan to discharge her Friday,” he said.

“She told me when I spoke with her this morning,” Sabrina said. “Her family plans a double celebration Saturday for her homecoming and Clarissa's birthday party.” She leaned over, just to tempt herself, and just maybe him. His eyes widened, but he didn't move back. “We're invited to both parties.”

“I don't have time.” He turned back to the computer screen.

Sabrina's temper spiked at his easy dismissal, but she kept the smile on her face. Although she didn't like it, she realized certain things couldn't be rushed. It had taken countless skin grafts and surgeries and two years to try and repair the damage to her body, and even longer to heal the emotional scars of abuse and neglect. She might not remember the pain or the surgeries, but every day growing up she saw the scars and was reminded what her stoned mother had carelessly done to her.

Her early teen years had been particularly devastating. Teenage girls could be unthinkably cruel. She'd hated showering after gym and the whispers that always followed. She could do backflips and yells better than any of the girls in her class, but the coach of the varsity cheerleaders told her she couldn't try out. Sabrina couldn't wear the short skirt and a longer one would look “off.” The varsity swim coach hadn't wanted her either. She hadn't told her parents, just cried and wondered why life had been so cruel and unfair to make her ugly and different.

It had taken her parents' and maternal grandparents' unfaltering love and support to help her finally realize and accept that she was more than the scars on her body. If others judged her because of what they saw instead of her character, it was their problem and loss, not hers.

“I wasn't finished, Dr. Mathis,” she said with a calmness that she was proud of. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a couple of doctors stop what they were doing and look over toward them. Sabrina was sure the staff was doing the same thing.

“Yes?” He faced her.

“If you don't mind, I'd like to discuss the case in a more private setting.” She glanced at the outside counter where two family members waited to speak to a doctor. One asked for a blanket.

“The cafeteria, I suppose.”

“My office actually.”

He stared at her. She stared back. “I probably won't finish for another hour.”

“I'm extremely grateful for your time, Dr. Mathis. I'll work around your schedule,” she said, trying to sound as contrite as possible for interfering with his schedule.

She shouldn't have bothered. His eyebrow went up again. He clearly knew she was laying it on a bit thick.

“A calm work environment is essential.” She repeated his words.

“That remains to be seen. I'll see you in one hour.”

“Thank you, Dr. Mathis.” Smiling, she stopped briefly to speak to the nurses and doctors before going to the elevator.

*   *   *

Cade paused before opening the door to Sabrina's office. The corners of his mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile. She'd thrown a lot of BS at him. She knew it and so did he, but the results were the same. He was here just as she wanted.

Wanted
. What exactly did she want from him?

Increasingly, he knew what he wanted from her—her warm, willing, and wild in his bed. His hand clenched on the knob. He'd thought about it with increasing and annoying regularity. He'd caught the look in her eyes a couple of times and knew she might not be thinking of intimacy, but she was definitely interested.

He'd think she was after him if he hadn't approached her first. He usually ignored people who irritated him. Perhaps even then he had wanted her. But it wasn't going to happen. As he'd told her. He didn't date staff members.

“Dr. Mathis, can I help you?”

Lost in thought, he glanced up to see Gwen Owens, a social worker at the hospital. In her late thirties, reasonably attractive with a good figure, she'd made several overtures to him when he'd first arrived. He hadn't been interested then or now. “No, thank you, Ms. Owens. I was just about to go into Ms. Thomas's office.”

Gwen shook her head of reddish-gold hair. “I heard about the disgraceful way she acted toward you. You would be within your rights to speak to her supervisor. She had no right to question you.”

The door suddenly opened and Sabrina stood there, a hard frown on her pretty face. It was directed at Gwen. “Hello, Gwen. Don't let us keep you,” Sabrina said. “I know how busy you are.”

The woman's red lips tightened, then she smiled at him. “Dr. Mathis, if there is ever anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate. My door is always open.”

“So I've heard,” Sabrina muttered.

The other woman glared at Sabrina. The rumors about Gwen's “openness” to doctors was well known.

Sabrina's startled eyes widened with embarrassment. Cade realized that once again, she'd spoken without thinking it through first. He thought to soothe the incensed older woman. He'd heard she could also be vindictive. “I appreciate the offer, Ms. Owens. It's good to know you're there to help if patients need you.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, somewhat mollified.

“Good-bye.” Urging Sabrina back into her office, Cade closed the door.

“I didn't mean to say that,” Sabrina said, staring at the floor. “The way she lives her life is none of my business.”

“Then why say anything at all?”

Her gaze flickered to him and away. “Bad manners.”

He frowned down at her. “Why don't I believe you?”

Shrugging, she waved him toward a seat in front of her neat desk. “Please have a seat. I don't want to take too much of your time.”

“Still laying it on a bit thick,” he said, but he started for the chair. A flash of color caught his attention. Instead of sitting, he stared at the painting behind her desk.

Sabrina saw the direction of his gaze, and came to stand beside him. “It's good, isn't it?”

“Very.”

“Kara painted it for me. The next time you see her, you can tell her.”

“So she doesn't spend a lot of her time holding a table in the cafeteria for you,” he said drolly.

“Hardly,” Sabrina said. “We have much more important things to do. Like discuss her amazing work, and how she's going to be rich and famous one day.”

Cade stared down at the top of Sabrina's sleek head of hair. She barely came to the middle of his chest. He outweighed and outranked her, but she wasn't afraid to stand toe to toe with him. His attention switched to a safe topic. “The painting is peaceful, but at the same time it grabs your attention.”

“A contradiction, just like a certain doctor I know,” she said, going behind her desk.

His gaze snapped to her. She had a sassy mouth. He could too well imagine it on his, her mouth roaming over his body.

Her brown eyes narrowed. Her nostrils delicately flared. Her body responded to him with just a look. What would happen if he actually touched her?

He wasn't about to find out. “You mentioned you needed to see me.”

She swallowed, swallowed again. “Yes.” Bending, she lifted an oversized hot pink gift bag with
THANK YOU
in large letters on it, and gave the bag to him. “This is for you, from Clarissa and her classmates and friends.”

He stared at the bag.

“It won't bite,” Sabrina said with a smile. “Her father brought her by this morning. She gave me a hug and a card too.”

Cade took the bag. He didn't know what to say.

Sabrina leaned against her desk and folded her arms. “I'd say you made an impression on her.” She motioned toward the bag. “She enlisted her friends at her school, the art teacher, and her Sunday school class to write you notes thanking you for helping her mother feel better so she'd come home and they could do things together.”

For the first time in months, he thought of his own birth mother. He'd wished for her to come get him, take him away from his hellish life, but she never did.

“The children touch you the most—with their innocence and trust and love,” Sabrina said. “Every child deserves to grow up with loving parents.”

“That's impossible for some people, and we both know it,” he snapped.

“The authorities never found my father. The man my mother was living with refused to take me, saying he wasn't my father. DNA tests proved he wasn't.” She folded her arms. “My mother was never off drugs long enough to give a thought or try to get me back from the foster home, which probably saved my life.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. He knew what it was to be unwanted, unloved, to be reminded every second that you were nothing.

She shrugged carelessly. “It happened. We've both seen cases where the child didn't survive. I was blessed to find parents who love me.”

Despite his best effort, his features hardened.

Her arms slowly unfolded. She stared at him a long time. “You didn't, did you?”

A burning rage that he'd thought he'd buried erupted. He never wanted anyone to know his shame.

Sabrina shrank back from him, then took a tentative step toward him. “Cade.” She reached for his arm. He stepped back. He didn't want her to touch him. Once he would have given part of his soul for a simple touch.

“Please forgive me. I speak—”

He whirled and headed for the door. She caught his arm, felt the muscles bunch. “Please. Yell at me if you want. Please. I can't stand the thought of me hurting you.”

He tugged his arm free, then he was gone, the door snapping shut behind him.

Sabrina stared at the closed door. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She'd hurt him. This time she wasn't sure he'd ever forgive her, and she couldn't blame him.

 

Ten

Tuesday evening Kara stared at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser in her bedroom and wanted to cry. She looked “ordinary” in the dark navy suit and simple white shell. Nothing stood out or invited a man to take a second look. She didn't even have any pretty jewelry to wear.

On her bed were several suits and dresses that she'd tried on. None of them made her look any better. She'd never been this anxious about what she wore on a date. She shut her eyes. This was not a date. Her eyes opened.

Lying to yourself is a bad sign, Kara.
She should have listened to Sabrina. Sabrina might not date, but she knew women's psyches where men were concerned. She also wasn't afraid to go after what she wanted. Kara had been tempted to call her. But Kara had made the decision and now she had to live with it.

The doorbell sounded. Kara blew out a breath and picked her purse off the chair in her bedroom.

In the den, she was surprised to see her mother watching television. After her father died, her mother wouldn't sleep in their bedroom. She'd moved to the guest bedroom down the hall, then complained about being cramped.

Tired of hearing her complain, Kara hired Fred to tear out the wall of the connecting bedroom and remodel the rooms into one for her mother. One of the additions her mother insisted on was a 44-inch TV. The den had the same 19-inch RCA her parents had when Kara was a child.

The doorbell sounded again. Her mother casually picked up her glass of Pepsi and sipped. Kara knew her mother was purposefully waiting for Tristan to arrive. How she'd act was anybody's guess.

Kara went to the door and opened it. Her heart did a quick, unsettling jerk. Dressed in a lightweight wheat-colored sports jacket, white shirt, and chocolate-colored slacks, he looked mouthwatering. “Hello, Tristan.”

“Hi, Kara. You ready?”

“Yes.” So what if she had vainly hoped to see a hint of appreciation in his green eyes despite her putting him off-limits.

“A man with manners would come in and speak,” her mother said from behind her.