When Morning Comes (27 page)

A tall, attractive, well-dressed woman in a white suit waved back. As soon as she passed the checkpoint, she and Sabrina were embracing. “Oh, baby, it's good to see you.”

Sabrina laughed. “You just saw me three weeks ago.”

“It seems longer,” her mother said, then she looked at Cade.

“Mother, this is Dr. Cade Mathis,” Sabrina said, her eyes shining up at him proudly.

Cade extended his hand. “Good morning, Mrs. Thomas. Sabrina has been excited since she knew you were coming.”

Sabrina's mother curved her hand around her daughter's shoulders. “Hello, Dr. Mathis. Sabrina is very precious to us.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Mother.”

“I can see why,” Cade said. “She's a unique woman.”

Sabrina reached for his hand. Cade caught it and squeezed. He wasn't the demonstrative type—or at least he wasn't until Sabrina. Her mother caught the motion. Was there censure in her gaze?

“Do you have any bags?” Cade asked.

“No. This will be in and out,” Mrs. Thomas said.

“My car is waiting. Would you like to have lunch or go to Sabrina's house?” Cade asked as they started up the concourse with Sabrina between them. “I have reservations, but I can always change them or cancel.”

Sabrina stepped on the escalator first and smiled back up at her mother. “It's at your favorite restaurant.”

Mrs. Thomas glanced at him before stepping on. “Why don't we go to the restaurant and get to know each other?”

Translation, grill him about his family. Sabrina might accept his life, but he didn't think the woman in the designer clothes would. “All right.”

*   *   *

Sabrina excused herself and her mother before they were seated at the table and took her to the ladies' room. They stopped just beyond the door. “I don't want you grilling Cade about his family.”

“I wouldn't grill the man, but there are questions any concerned parent would want to know about the man in her daughter's life,” her mother told her.

“No, Mother, and I mean it. He's told me about his childhood,” Sabrina said.

“What did he say?” her mother asked, moving closer.

“He told me in confidence and that's the way it will remain,” Sabrina said. “I ask you to respect his privacy and trust my judgment.”

“What could be so bad that he can't disc—” Her mother stopped abruptly.

“Exactly. Stephen and I were both abused. He refuses to talk about his past even now. I'm not saying that's Cade's issue, I'm just reminding you that it isn't as important how you got to where you are as it is where you are now. For some, the past needs to be left in the past.”

“You know being cryptic makes me nervous,” her mother told her.

“I'm sorry, but Cade means a great deal to me,” Sabrina said. She wasn't going to be like Kara, miserable and torn because her mother distrusted the man she wanted to be with. She and Tristan hadn't been out all week. Every night her mother had a physical complaint or something for Kara to do. Sabrina refused to let her mother keep her from the man she loved. “He knows how much I love you, and I can tell he's worried that you'll try to break us up. It's not happening.”

“Sab—”

“I love you, but it's not happening,” Sabrina repeated sternly.

Her mother stared at her a long time. “He better not hurt you.”

Sabrina hugged her mother. “He won't. Now let's go put him out of his misery.”

Cade rose as they neared the table. He held the chair out for her mother. Sabrina winked at him. He breathed a sigh of relief. For the moment at least, he was safe.

*   *   *

Christine Thomas couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was about Cade Mathis that made her feel uneasy, but it was there nonetheless. Perhaps it was Sabrina not wanting to discuss his background. He was handsome, attentive to Sabrina, courteous to her. Her husband had balked at having him checked out except for a few discreet questions. He didn't want Sabrina to think they didn't trust her judgment.

But Christine knew how a smooth-talking man could sweep a woman off her feet. Her hand clenched on the steering wheel. She hadn't thought of her own bad decision and the consequences in a long time. She'd go months without thinking about it, and then something would trigger the memory of that night. Her father had patiently helped her through that dark period in her life, made her see that her life wasn't over. Like her husband, her father was the rock of the family.

Her father. She activated the Bluetooth.

“Hello, Christine,” he said when he answered on the second ring. As a doctor, he'd always been a light sleeper.

“Daddy, everything is all right, but I need to talk to you,” she quickly said. It was past eleven. Late phone calls never boded well for a man in his profession.

“I'll be downstairs waiting.”

“Thank you, Daddy. I'm ten minutes away. Bye.” He'd always been there for her. Why hadn't she remembered that sooner?

Christine took the next exit, still thinking about the past. For months she'd been so ashamed and unable to look at her father or mother. They'd been patient, supportive, and loving when she thought she didn't deserve to be loved. Eventually she'd put the past behind her and started to live.

She turned into an upscale neighborhood of stately homes. She'd grown up riding her bicycle down these streets, playing tennis on the private courts a couple of blocks over. She'd been sheltered, but had learned the harsh truth at nineteen that men lied as easily as they smiled.

Flicking on her signal, she turned into the driveway of a two-story white brick mansion with dark green shutters. Getting out, she went up the steps and rang the doorbell. The door swung open.

“You're sure you're all right?” her father questioned as she stepped into the wide foyer.

“Reasonably,” she said. “Marshall isn't due back until tomorrow and I needed to talk to someone tonight.”

He took her arm. “Your mother is asleep. Come into my study.”

Christine smiled in spite of the tension she felt. Her father's study was the place for family discussion. Other people might converge in the family room or media room, but for them it was her father's large study with its book-lined walls, large windows, and comfortable chairs.

He sat on the leather sofa she'd grown up sprawled on, reading while he worked. “Now, tell me.”

In his direct gaze, she saw patience and love. “I love you, Daddy.”

His hands closed around hers. “I love you too. You're the best part of your mother and me.”

She wanted to glance away, but didn't. “You haven't always been proud of me.”

“That's not true.”

She shook her head. “We both know there was a time I let you and Mama down, let myself down.”

“Now, you hold on a minute,” he said, his voice tight. “You were fooled by scum masquerading as a man.”

Her eyes briefly shut. “I thought he loved me,” she whispered. “How could I have been so foolish, so gullible?”

“Because you're honest and thought he was too. I wanted to take my forty-five and go find him.”

She gasped, her hands closing on his. “Daddy, no.”

“I realized that if I did, I wouldn't be here for you and your mother. That bastard had taken enough from us,” he said tightly.

“Do-do you ever think about that night?” It was a question she'd been afraid to ask all these years.

“All the time,” he admitted. “It was hard on all of us.”

“He was your first grandchild.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Not being able to have other children is my punishment for giving him away.”

“You stop that nonsense,” her father told her. “Lots of women have only one child. You did what you thought was right.”

“But you didn't agree with me, did you?”

He looked tired, but resigned. “You were so adamant on what you wanted to do. You wouldn't even look at your mother or me. If we had kept the baby we wouldn't have been able to keep you, and that would have killed us.”

“Daddy, I'm sorry I made you choose.”

He patted her hands. “I thought for a while you might change your mind.”

“It wouldn't have done any good. I had signed the adoption papers.”

“But they weren't filed until later.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You thought we were ashamed of you. Disappointed that you had gotten pregnant by that scum. I had hoped you'd realize that we loved you more because of what you were going through and that you'd change your mind about giving the baby up.”

“I didn't know he was married. He was so cruel when I told him about the baby.” She lowered her head. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“You loved the wrong man.”

Her head lifted. “That's why I came. I'm worried about Sabrina and the man she's dating. But, first, what do you mean about the adoption?”

“He wasn't adopted until later,” he said. “I had the baby placed with a church-going couple who were upstanding members of the community my lawyer found. If you changed your mind about the adoption in a month or so, I wanted you to be able to get the baby.”

Wide-eyed with disbelief, Christine came unsteadily to her feet. “What?”

Her father stood as well. “I'd hoped time would help you to realize you had nothing to be ashamed of, to stop blaming yourself. You never did. Whenever I tried to bring that night up, you'd withdraw into yourself. Then when you couldn't have children you blamed yourself even more. It tore me up to see you so miserable, but by then it was too late to get him back.”

“Then-then you know the family who adopted him? You can find him?” she said, feeling almost light-headed.

“I've always kept my distance. The first time I had my lawyer check on him was when he graduated from high school. I was afraid if I actually saw him, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from trying to meet him,” he confessed.

“Oh, Daddy. I cheated you and Mother out of so much. I'm so sorry.”

“You were barely nineteen. You were hurting. You made what you thought was the best decision for both of you.”

“I didn't want him called names or gossiped about. But he's all right? Where is he?” she asked, excitement growing with each passing second.

“In Dallas.”

“Dallas?” Christine repeated, the strange feeling of foreboding returning.

Her father almost smiled. “You'd be proud of the man he's become. In a strange twist of fate, he's a doctor, and a darn good one.”

A chill raced down her spine. “Do-do you know his name?”

“Dr. Cade Mathis.”

 

Eighteen

“I'm not sure your mother likes me,” Cade said later that night with Sabrina sprawled on top of him.

Sabrina kissed his chin. “She doesn't want me hurt.”

“I don't either.”

The phone on the nightstand rang. Sabrina eyed the phone. Cade glanced over as well, then looked at her. It was almost midnight. “She called you from the Houston airport to let you know she'd landed safely.”

The phone rang again. He lifted her off him. “I'll give you a moment.”

She caught his arm when he stood. “No matter what, I'm not going anyplace.”

“Answer the phone,” he said, and continued out of the room, picking up his pants as he went.

“Hello,” Sabrina said, picking up the phone just before it would have gone into voice mail. She only had to think about the misery she saw daily in Kara's face to remain strong.

“Oh, Sabrina. You can't see Cade anymore.”

Her mother sounded almost hysterical. Sabrina did not want to have this conversation. Sighing, she sat on the side of the bed, drawing the sheet up over her naked breasts. “Mother, we've been over this.”

“Things have changed.”

“Nothing has changed. Mother, I love you, but you can't dictate whom I date,” Sabrina said, trying to keep her voice low so Cade wouldn't hear her.

“Sabrina, please. I'll explain everything in the morning. Your father and I are flying back to Dallas in the morning.”

“Mother, ple—”

“Just do as I say,” she said. “He isn't there with you, is he?”

“No, he isn't here with me,” she said, which technically was the truth. He was in the other room.

“Thank goodness.” Her mother sounded relieved.

“Mother, Cade is a wonderful man. He—”

“Sabrina, you don't understand. We'll be there in the morning.”

“All right. Good night,” Sabrina said.

“Good night.”

Hanging up the phone, Sabrina went to the closet for a robe. She found Cade on the love seat on the patio in front of the fireplace with his bare feet propped up on the ottoman.

She sat beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “When I couldn't find you, I thought you might have gone.”

“I probably should have.”

“I'm sorry, Cade. I don't know why she's so upset,” she said, misery creeping into her voice.

His hand cupped the back of her head, angling her head upward. “I'm the first man you've been serious about. I have a reputation for being a coldhearted bastard.”

She straddled him, her knees denting the padded cushion, her arms around his neck. “That's not the man who makes my heart beat faster with just a look, the man who makes every day brighter, the man who touches me with such tenderness.”

His hands clenched around her waist. In the lamplight she saw the glitter in his eyes. “None of that matters to your mother.”

“It does to me.” She took his face in her hands. “As she pointed out, I'm a grown woman. I'm where I want to be, and nothing she says will change my mind.”

“Your mother—”

“I love her, but she doesn't run my life.” She leaned closer. “Perhaps you need a demonstration that I'm not going anyplace.” She pressed her lips to his, her woman's softness rubbing against his turgid manhood.