When Morning Comes (2 page)

Two pairs of eyes, begging for reassurance, fixed on her face. “I hope you'll invite me,” Sabrina told them. She'd made it a practice never to lie to patients. They had to trust her. She just hoped the evasive answer was enough.

“Let me talk to Dr. Mathis, and I'll be right back.” Sabrina left the room and went straight to the charting area for doctors behind the nurses' desk. Dr. Mathis was there, his broad shoulders rigid, his mouth set in a tight line. The charge nurse, standing beside the secretary, kept throwing troubled glances at him. When Dr. Mathis was unhappy, heads rolled. Two other nurses decided they could finish charting elsewhere and moved their carts away. Sabrina didn't hesitate.

“Mrs. Ward was frightened enough without you adding to it.”

Dr. Mathis finished making his notation on a chart in quick, slashing motions before looking up. He stared at her as if she were some icky bug that had dared cross his path. The look angered her just as much as the annoying unsteady pulse. He might have the manners of a warthog, but he was as gorgeous as forbidden sin.

“It's critical that Mrs. Ward have surgery sooner rather than later.”

Sabrina trusted his knowledge. It was his professionalism that set her teeth on edge. “You could have told her differently.”

Dr. Mathis slowly stood, towering over her five feet four inches, his unblinking black gaze locked on hers. “She's playing Russian roulette for a birthday party that can just as easily be postponed. The surgery can't.”

“She—”

“Is dying, Ms. Thomas. Enough time has been wasted already. Patients are too emotional. They don't always think clearly. I thought it was your job to help, not make matters worse,” he said.

Her temper spiked at his accusing tone. Knowing she shouldn't didn't stop her from stepping into his space. “Making things worse is
your
specialty, Dr. Mathis.” She spat out the last word as if distasteful. Clutching the notebook, she spun to see two other doctors there. Disapproval was clearly visible on their shocked faces.

Sabrina cursed inwardly. In the short two years Dr. Mathis had been at Texas his reputation as a top neurosurgeon had grown. He was revered as much as he was feared. No matter what Drs. Mims and Carter might personally think of Dr. Mathis, doctors stuck together against the lesser mortals on the hospital staff. Doctors were never reprimanded—and certainly not in public.

And before now, she'd had a good relationship with both doctors. Her rash actions might have endangered that relationship. Even the charge nurse frowned at Sabrina.

One thing life had taught her early was not to falter over what couldn't be changed. Head high, Sabrina walked from the nursing station aware that the efficiency of the hospital grapevine would have their conversation all over the hospital in a matter of hours.

She didn't have time to think about it. Right now, a family needed her help. But how? She loved her job as patient advocate, but it wasn't an easy one. Often there were hard choices to make. Her job was to ensure that patients had the information needed for them to make the best possible decisions.

She knew firsthand how important that was. If someone hadn't been there to speak for her when she was too young to speak for herself, she wouldn't be alive today.

Stopping in front of Mrs. Ward's door, Sabrina took a calming breath. The patient's decision had been based on emotions, but reasoning—not anger—was needed to help her decide if her decision was the best one. She opened the door and wasn't surprised to see Mr. Ward still holding his softly crying wife in his arms. He glanced up.

In his gaze she saw helplessness, fear with a good dose of anger. “He had no right to upset Ann like that. I'm reporting him to the medical association.”

Sabrina let the door swing closed. “Dr. Mathis is brusque, but he's also the best neurosurgeon in the state, possibly the country. He was at the Mayo Clinic for three years before coming to Texas two years ago. Patients come from all over the country to see him.”

“That doesn't give him the right to scare my wife,” Mr. Ward said, clutching his wife closer.

Sabrina knew he was doing his best to hide his fear. “Despite Mrs. Ward doing better, Dr. Mathis believes it's in Mrs. Ward's best interest to have the surgery tomorrow as scheduled.” Sabrina stopped at the foot of the hospital bed.

Mrs. Ward lifted her tearstained face from her husband's chest. “What do you think?”

Sabrina had been asked her opinion many times in her job and always answered truthfully. “Dr. Mathis might not have the best bedside manner, but few neurosurgeons have his skill in the operating room. He was sought by some very prestigious hospitals. Texas is fortunate to have a man of his gifts and accomplishments.”

“He's rude,” her husband snapped, clearly not wanting to let go of his anger.

“And gifted, as I said. He diagnosed your wife's condition when no one else had been able to,” Sabrina reminded them gently. Grudgingly she had to give Mathis points for not pointing that out to her during their conversations. She'd never heard of him bragging. His accomplishments spoke for him.

Mrs. Ward glanced at her husband, then tucked her head. “The surgery has risks. He told us that. I just wanted to be there for Clarissa's birthday—in case—” Her voice broke, trailed off. Her husband pulled her closer.

Sabrina went to the bedside. “I might not have any children, but I understand why you made the emotional decision. Dr. Mathis made his decision based on your test results.”

“If you needed a neurosurgeon, would you use Dr. Mathis?” Mrs. Ward asked, staring at Sabrina intently.

Sabrina didn't even have to think. “He'd be at the top of my very short list.”

Mrs. Ward looked at her husband, then spoke to Sabrina. “Thank you. If you don't mind I'd like to talk to my husband alone.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, just have me paged. Good-bye.” Sabrina left the room, hoping that she had helped, annoyed with herself that she hadn't handled things better with Dr. Mathis, and even more annoyed with him.

*   *   *

Sabrina Thomas annoyed the hell out of him, Cade thought as he went through the hospital's double exit doors and headed for his car. He paid no attention to the hot blast of June air that enveloped him. He might not have been in Texas for long, but he was used to the stifling heat. What he wasn't used to was being questioned.

His mouth tight, he activated the locks on the black Lamborghini. No one at Texas Hospital, not even the chief of staff, had questioned Cade in the years he'd been associated with the hospital. Doctors from all over the country sought his advice. He was respected, feared, revered. He knew he was maligned—but never to his face.

Except by Sabrina Thomas.

Yanking open the door, he slid inside and started the engine. His mind still on Sabrina, he backed out of the space and headed for the exit gate. At first he'd thought she was on a power trip until he'd seen her more than once holding a less than clean child while talking to a patient or family member or buying food from the vending machine for patient family members. Dirty bedpans didn't even faze her. She didn't appear to mind doing menial things for patients or working late to push departments and agencies to help a family in need.

Sabrina Thomas cared about her patients. But she had to understand that patients didn't look at their medical conditions logically. Unfortunately, neither did she, which made for a bad combination, especially since he preferred a calm, nonconfrontational life at work and at home. His life had been too chaotic and uncertain growing up not to crave peace. He wasn't going to get that when they had the same patient.

The ringing phone interrupted his thoughts. He pushed
ACCEPT
on the wood grain control panel. “Dr. Mathis.”

“Dr. Mathis, you have a call from Mrs. Ward. She says it's urgent,” came the cool, efficient voice of his office manager, Iris, through his radio. “Your three late appointments just signed in.”

He stopped at a red light. “Please tell them I'm on the way and put them in a room. I'll be there in less than five minutes.” Some of his patients had difficulty getting off work so he had late appointments one day a week. “Put Mrs. Ward through.”

“Dr. Mathis?” came the tentative voice. By all rights she shouldn't be alive. He'd stopped believing in a higher power for himself long ago, but he realized that for others there was such a thing.

He was different. He ruled his destiny, not some unseen force.

“Yes, Mrs. Ward.” She sounded shaky. “Are you feeling all right?” As much as he disagreed with her decision, she was still his patient and deserved his best. He never wanted to give less.

He'd gone into medicine to show a man he hated that he wasn't worthless as he'd been told all of his life. Yet, somehow along the way he'd learned he could make a difference in people's lives, and perhaps make up for the fact that no one had been there to make a difference in his.

“Yes. I-I…”

“Mrs. Ward, I have patients waiting at my office.”

“If it's not too late, I want to have the surgery in the morning as scheduled.”

Frowning, he pulled through the light. “I haven't taken you off the schedule so there shouldn't be a problem. What changed your mind?”

“Sabrina.”

Surprised, he turned into the underground parking lot of his office building. “Ms. Thomas?”

“She said if she needed a neurosurgeon, you would be at the top of her very short list.”

Stunned—a rare occasion for him—Cade was momentarily at a loss for words, an even rarer occasion. He'd had the impression that Sabrina Thomas didn't think too highly of him. He hadn't minded. Usually, he could care less what people thought of him. Never had. Had always thought he never would. “I'll see you in the morning. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.”

Cade disconnected the call, pulled into his reserved parking spot, and got out of his car. He had patients to see and then he was going to track down Sabrina Thomas. They were going to figure out a way to work together without all the friction.

Which meant she wouldn't interfere with his patients' care and he would have his calm, quiet life back, just the way it was before she'd come into it.

 

Two

Still peeved, Sabrina opened the door to her office on the first floor of the hospital and came to a complete stop. Her tightly compressed lips softened. Her stiff shoulders relaxed beneath the red linen suit jacket. Slowly she continued across the room, past the woman standing quietly to one side, until she was behind her desk.

Where there once hung a bland reproduction of a lighthouse, now hung a vivid oil painting of children playing in a lush field of wildflowers. She could almost hear the laughter, smell the fragrance of the flowers, feel the sun on her face.

“Kara, your talent never ceases to amaze and delight me.”

Kara Simmons's tense shoulders relaxed as much as Sabrina's had earlier. She came to stand beside Sabrina. “I'm glad you like it.”

Sabrina turned to the woman who had become her best friend since her move from Houston. Tall, slim, with a striking face that often turned heads—which she never seemed to notice—Kara was the calmest, most forgiving person Sabrina knew, and woefully insecure when it came to her paintings.

The connection between her and Kara had been immediate. They'd met Sabrina's first day of work, when she'd gotten lost and asked the first friendly face with a Texas Hospital employee badge for directions. Kara, a social worker, had gladly shown Sabrina to her supervisor's office located in the same wing as Kara's department.

Hours later, in the cafeteria with a cold sandwich and a Pepsi, her head swimming with information and procedures, and a briefcase full of notes and forms, Kara had waved her over to her table. Over lunch, when Sabrina had mentioned she was looking for a place to rent or buy, Kara told her about a house near hers that turned out to be perfect.

“All of your paintings have been fantastic and this one is no exception.” Sabrina folded her arms across her chest. “Although I'm still annoyed that you won't let me pay you for it.” She touched the carved mahogany frame. “Unlike the particle board that masqueraded as a frame on the previous painting, this is real wood and expensive.”

“I framed it myself, so that cuts down on cost.” Kara smiled. “Besides, it's payback for letting me ride with you last week while my car was in the shop.”

Sabrina waved the words aside. “We work at the same place. It was fun driving in together. I just wish our schedules weren't so erratic so we could do it more often.”

“You won't get an argument from me, but neither one of us knows when we'll have to work late,” Kara said. “Two days you had to wait over an hour while I worked with a nursing home to get a patient admitted.”

“And I used the time to catch up on paperwork that I'm always behind on,” Sabrina reminded her with a wrinkle of her nose. Although she enjoyed helping people, she detested the paperwork needed to get them that help and document what she'd done. “The painting is worth way more than what I did.”

“Not from my way of thinking. I didn't have to rent a car or ride the DART.” Kara swept her hand over her head. “It rained two days and I would have gotten wet and this head would have been a hot mess.”

Sabrina laughed with Kara. She had thick, naturally curly hair that hung several inches past her shoulders. Today it was loose, but most days she wore it in a ponytail. “You have beautiful hair. I'd trade you any day for this.” Sabrina flicked straight strands of her smooth hair in a layered cut that framed her face. “I wish I had some curl, but one thing I wouldn't trade is your friendship.”

“Same here. The picture before this was pitiful.” Kara touched the corner of the wooden frame.