When Morning Comes (33 page)

Frown lines pleated his brows. “Playing ball.”

“You were hit by a line drive, but you're going to be all right,” Sabrina said. “Can I go get Mother, please?”

“Mother's here?” Stephen asked.

“Where else would she be?” Sabrina asked. Then, realizing what she'd said, looked up at Cade. His face was closed. “Cade—”

“Go get his mother.”

“We're going to talk,” she said, then rushed out of the room to tell her parents.

*   *   *

Where else would she be?
Sabrina's statement rang in Cade's ears as he slipped from Stephen's room and left the ICU. There was no place for him there. He'd served his purpose, just as he had when the man who raised him used him for free labor, just as the patients did when he helped them. No one wanted him for just himself.

Lifting his hand to push open the waiting-room door leading into the hallway, he wondered if anyone ever would. The people who loved Stephen certainly hadn't.

“Cade Mathis, you come back here.”

Cade spun on hearing Sabrina's voice. He was as surprised to see her as to hear the sternness in her voice.

Sabrina caught his hand. “I love you. I'll keep telling you until you believe in us. I'm not letting you go. We had a shock, but we can get though this.”

Cade wanted to love her, but seeing all the people who should have been his family, he felt like an outsider. “There is no place in this family for me. I gave them Stephen back. Good-bye.”

He turned away from the tears in her eyes.
Just keep walking,
he told himself as he headed for the doctors' lounge to change clothes.
Don't hope. You always end up with the shaft.

In his street clothes, he rode the elevator down to the first floor. The sun was bright, the air muggy. He'd never felt worse or more alone. He was afraid this time the ache wouldn't go away.

He stepped off the sidewalk and started across the drive to his rental. He needed to call his office and have Iris get him the first available flight back to Dallas, but putting one foot in front of the other took all the strength he had. He fished the car keys from his pocket.

“Cade Mathis!”

Hearing Sabrina's voice, he hung his head, silently admitting to himself why he was walking so slow. He wanted to see her again. Yet, he wasn't sure how he could handle seeing her, wanting her, and knowing their impossible situation.

Or was it? His steps slowed.

The man who had raised him had been a cruel, lying bastard who wanted to hurt Cade with every self-righteous breath he drew. He took pleasure in Cade's pain. The best way to do that was by telling him his socialite mother hadn't wanted him.

“Cade.”

Sabrina cared about people. She fought for what she believed in. She wouldn't love a selfish woman who only thought about herself and her social standing.

Finally, he turned and frowned. Sabrina wasn't alone. Besides her parents and her grandparents, it looked as if most, if not all, the people in the waiting room were following them. “Why aren't you all upstairs with Stephen?”

Swallowing, Sabrina's mother briefly touched his shoulder. Her teary gaze held him. Her lips trembled. “Because I wanted to introduce my son.”

He felt a tightness in his chest. He swallowed, swallowed again to ease the constriction in his throat.
Son.
He'd waited all of his life to hear his mother say that one word. Sabrina stepped beside him, slipped her hand into his and squeezed.

Mrs. Thomas's smile tremulous, she faced the people behind her. “Thank you for coming with me. I want to introduce someone I'm very proud of, my son, Dr. Cade Mathis, a gifted neurosurgeon. Because of him, Stephen is alive.”

People stared from Cade to his mother, their mouths gaping. Questions swirled around them. A young man in the back cracked, “I defy anyone to do our unusual family tree.” People laughed.

Sabrina briefly leaned her head against Cade's shoulder. “He might be fighting it, but he's also the man I'm going to marry. You'll all receive wedding invitations.”

There were more shocked whispers from the older adults, and the younger ones applauded. Smiling, her mother's parents ushered everyone back into the hospital.

Cade was too emotional to speak. His mother and her parents had looked at him with pride and love. His mother's husband had slapped him proudly on the back.

“You're not alone anymore.” Sabrina hugged him. “You just have to believe it, and we'll go from there.”

He wanted that more than anything.

“Mother and Granddad made a horrible mistake, but they did it out of love,” she whispered. “Sometimes love isn't easy, but it's worth the risk.”

Staring down at her, he realized again how much courage Sabrina possessed. She wasn't afraid to lay her feelings out there for him and all the world to see. He pulled her to him. He had to be just as brave. The past needed to stay in the past. “You make me weak, but you also make me believe.”

She hugged him harder. “I love you, Cade. Nothing will ever change that.”

He smiled. “I finally believe you.” Lifting his head, he told her about meeting his father and finished by saying, “Grandfather”—he paused as if savoring the word—“was right. My father hadn't wanted me.”

On tiptoe, she kissed him on the lips. “We do.”

“I might have a half-brother and a niece,” he said, excitement in his voice. “When things settle in my head a little bit, I plan to do some checking.”

“I'll help. We'll find them.”

He placed his forehead against hers. “You're always there for me.”

“Where else would I be?” she said softly.

He recalled her saying the words in relation to her mother and Stephen. Loving someone meant being there for them. “When you come back, we need to talk.”

Uneasiness entered her eyes. “Am I going to like this talk?”

Laughing, he kissed her long and hard. He never wanted her to regret loving him. “I certainly hope so. I'll call you tonight.”

Her smile returned. “I'll be waiting.”

Cade got in the car and pulled away smiling.

 

Twenty-two

Kara should be feeling great. Sabrina had called to tell her that Stephen was awake and steadily improving. And Kara was days away from the open house. She should be hopping with excitement. She wasn't.

She was driving to Tristan's house later. The sundress she had on was five years old, the small yellow-and-purple flowers faded. She wished she had a pretty summer dress to wear to meet the wife of the builder whose luxury home her paintings were displayed in.

Kara was sure the wife would look great, and so would Tristan's mother, if she happened to drop by. Kara always felt like an old shoe next to her. She'd caught his mother a couple of times looking at her with a frown. She could almost hear her thinking Kara needed a major wardrobe makeover.

Unwillingly Kara recalled Tristan's ex-wife's condescending comments about her clothes. Yet, not once had Vera ever made Kara feel uncomfortable in any way. She was always warm and solicitous, but she still probably wondered what her gorgeous, well-dressed son was doing with Kara.

Kara wondered herself. She heard the kitchen timer go off and headed in that direction. All she needed was to burn her mother's food. Opening the oven, she took out the smothered steak and sat it on the stove, then mashed the potatoes with real butter and cream. Her mother demanded both.

“Dinner ready yet?”

Kara kept whipping the potatoes. “Almost.”

She heard then saw her mother lift the top of the casserole top with a pot holder. “I thought you meant a real steak when you said we were having steak.”

Kara clenched the handle of the whisk. “T-bones and rib eye are seven ninety-nine a pound.”

“You can't afford eight dollars to feed your mother?”

Kara carefully scraped the potatoes into the Lenox dish her mother preferred her food served in. It wouldn't have occurred to her mother that Kara might want a steak as well.

“I asked you a question.”

“We have to save every place we can.”

“You act like we're paupers. What about those paintings? You promised your daddy to take care of me. We still haven't gone to Dillard's for my shopping trip. I can't do anything fun,” her mother complained.

Kara whirled. “Did it ever occur to you that neither can I? You spend four times as much as I do. I pay the house note, the utility bills. You ran up my Dillard's card so much that I can't even use it. What more do you want from me?”

Her mother's lips tightened. “I took care of you and never said a word while you went to college and moved to New Jersey. The least any self-respecting daughter could do is help out a bit and not complain.”

“Father and I paid for my tuition. I worked all through high school and college. I paid for my move. You never worked.”

Her mother's chin lifted belligerently. “That doesn't mean I wasn't there helping him manage things. Without me, he would have had nothing. I pushed him every step of the way.”

Too hard, Kara wanted to say, but she turned to pour the green beans into a companion serving dish. “Dinner is ready.” Stepping around her mother, she placed the dishes on the table. She'd already set the place setting for one. Wordlessly, her mother took her seat and briefly bowed her head.

“I'm going out,” Kara said. “I'm not sure when I'll be back.”

Her mother turned and pinned her with a look. “I know I told you to watch them, but if you get into trouble you're no daughter of mine. That man is no good, I can tell. He just wants to use you.”

The only person using me is you.
“I have to go,” Kara said. Arguing with her mother never solved anything. It just left her feeling miserable and trapped.

“You just be sure you don't let him cheat you out of the money for the paintings.”

Halfway out of the kitchen, Kara stopped. “I trust Tristan. He believes in my paintings.”

Her mother sucked her teeth and went back to her food. Kara noted she had a big slice of smothered steak on her plate. “We both know the reason for that.”

“Good night, Mother.” Trembling with anger, Kara couldn't get to her car fast enough. She had never wanted to be away from her mother as much as she did now.

She was still shaking when she pulled up in front of Tristan's house twenty minutes later. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

The door suddenly opened. Startled, she turned to see Tristan, his brow furrowed. She didn't give herself time to think, she just reached for him. His arms closed securely around her.

“I got you, baby. I got you.”

She tried to stem the flow of tears and lost. Tristan placed her on her feet, grabbed her purse, car keys, and then swept her into his arms again. He didn't stop until they were inside and he was sitting on the sofa with her in his arms.

His lips brushed against hers. “I'm here. I'm here.”

She felt his warmth, his solidness, enjoyed the comfort he generously offered. He didn't question her, badger her, belittle her. “Why can't she ever be satisfied or happy for me?”

He tensed. His arms gathered her closer. “Baby, I'm sorry.”

She looked up at him through tearstained eyes. “Nothing I do pleases her. She always wants more.”

He lifted her chin. “You might not like to hear this, but I'm going to tell you anyway.”

She pushed upright. “I probably won't.”

He caught her face in his hands. “She does it because you let her. When was the last time you said no, gave her back some of her own?”

“She's my mother and I promised Daddy that I'd take care of her,” she reminded him.

“Which she uses to her advantage. Stand up to her,” he told her, his face hard.

He thought she was weak and a coward. She stood. He was right. “When do you think your friend and his wife will be here?”

Tristan stared at her a long time. “If you don't fight for yourself, you only have yourself to blame.”

She picked up her car keys. “I made us some sandwiches. They're in the trunk.”

He pushed easily to his feet and took the keys from her. “I might have known. You know where the wine and wineglasses are and the rest of the things. I'll get the sandwiches while you set up the kitchen.” He took a couple of steps away, then turned back and kissed her on the cheek. “You know you can tell me to go to hell and I'll still help you, don't you?”

“I do and I would if you weren't right.” She glanced away. “I'm all she has.”

“You're all she has, and that hasn't stopped her from telling you what she thinks.”

“She's my mother.”

“And that's why I bite my tongue when I'm with her. You're a strong, caring woman. One day I hope she'll see that.”

Kara shook her head as he walked away. He was wrong. She was weak, not courageous as he'd once said. Worse, her mother would only become more critical and demanding as the years passed.

*   *   *

Once outside, Tristan cursed all the way to Kara's car and all the way back with the tray. She did so much for others, and her mother treated her like crap. She seemed to enjoy belittling Kara. Tristan stopped on the porch and took one, then another, calming breath.

Tonight was important for Kara. It was another person validating her work. In the coming weeks and months she was going to be extremely popular, and he was going to make sure, at least in her paintings, that no one took advantage of her.

Going inside, he went to the kitchen. She had everything set up. He liked seeing her there, could easily imagine her there cooking one of her incredible dishes.

She glanced up, sadness in her eyes. Putting the tray down, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. “Think about that or how you're going to be very famous. Nothing else.”