When Morning Comes (35 page)

Sabrina was right again, Kara thought as she hurried past the beautiful clothes displayed in the window that ranged from casual to elegant all with style and glamour. She opened the door of the spacious shop and headed for the counter, noting several other shoppers in the store and three deep at the two cash registers.

Kara glanced at her watch: 5:27. The shop closed at six. She went to the closest cashier. “Please excuse me,” Kara said to the woman waiting in front of the line, then to the cashier, “This is sort of an emergency. My name is Kara Simmons. Sabrina Thomas said I should ask for Patrice and to tell her that she sent me.”

The cashier smiled at Kara, then spoke to the woman waiting. “Is it all right if I take a moment to call?”

The well-dressed woman with several items of clothes looked from Kara's wind-blown hair, past the seven-year-old navy blue suit to her sensible pumps. “Definitely an emergency. Make the call.”

“Thank you,” Kara said, trying not to notice that the other women in line were looking at her as well.

“You wanted to see me?”

Kara turned at the slightly husky voice and blinked. The woman was at least five-nine, stunning, with a figure to match. She wore a sleeveless coral and black sheath that stopped mid-thigh, and silver bangles jingled on both of her toned arms. She looked elegant and earthy.

“Ms. Simmons,” she prompted.

“Sorry,” Kara said, extending her hand. “I didn't expect you—I mean…”

“That's all right. I caught you off guard. I'm Patrice Solomon, how can I help you?” The handshake was brief.

Kara quickly explained the situation. “I don't want to look like this.”

“That won't be a problem,” Patrice said drolly. “Come with me.”

Kara followed. True to her word, in less than fifteen minutes, Patrice had found four dresses that Kara fell in love with and accessories to match. Although she said she wouldn't, she took a peek at the price tags and almost swooned.

“I like the peach and the white. Both can take you from a pool party to a night on the town with just a simple change of jewelry and shoes,” Patrice said. “It's almost closing. I'll leave you to decide.”

Kara nodded. She was aware that Patrice had seen the sticker shock on her face and was giving her time alone. She wanted to be sensible, then thought why? For once, just go for it. She picked up the two dresses, the accessories, and hurried to the cashier. Patrice said there was a shoe shop a couple of doors down that closed at eight.

“I see Patrice worked her usual magic,” the middle-aged cashier Kara had spoken to earlier said, smiling. “Will that be cash, check, or charge?”

“Charge.” Kara opened her wallet, drew out the credit card she saved for emergencies, and handed it to the smiling woman. It would be the only charge on the card when the bill came in and she could pay off the balance with Zachary's check in her wallet.

The cashier's smile faltered as she swiped the card for a second time. “Do you have another card? This one has been declined.”

“Declined! There must be a mistake. The card has a zero balance. Please run it again.” Kara remembered paying off the balance when the water heater burst in the end of December.

“I'm sorry.” She handed the card to Kara. “Do you have another card?”

“There must be a mistake,” Kara said, taking the card and pulling out her cell. “Please hold these things while I call.”

“Of course,” the cashier said, moving the merchandise aside and motioning for the next woman in line.

Kara went to a quiet corner and called customer service for the credit card. In less than a minute, she was talking to a representative. She shook her head. “There must be a mistake. I can't be over my credit limit or behind on a payment. You must have my account mixed up.” She repeated her credit card number and was given the same information. Perhaps someone had stolen her card, she was told.

“I have the card in my hand,” Kara replied. “Where and when were the charges made?” she demanded, ready to dispute each one. But as the man on the other end went through the charges and dates, Kara's anger shifted in a different direction.

“Do you recognize any of those retailers or the merchandise?” the man asked, then repeated the question when Kara didn't answer.

“How could she?” Kara whispered.

“What did you say?” the man asked.

“Good-bye.” Kara had never felt so angry or such embarrassment when she turned to see Patrice a short distance away. Stiffening her shoulders, Kara went to her. “I'm sorry to have wasted your time.”

“Helping a customer is never a waste of time,” Patrice said graciously and handed Kara her card. “We open at ten on Saturdays, but I'm usually here by nine.”

With over a five-thousand-dollar bill hanging over her head, there was no way she could even think about buying the clothes. She slipped the card into her pocket. “I'm sorry. Please put everything back. Good-bye.” Kara walked from the shop, her anger growing with each step. Her mother had finally crossed the line.

*   *   *

Sabrina grabbed a taxi and went straight to Cade's office. She'd spoken briefly to his office manager and knew he was scheduled to be there until six to see the patients he'd had to reschedule. During the taxi ride, Sabrina Googled Zachary Holman and located his construction company. By the time she arrived at Cade's office, she had an appointment with Zachary at the open house site at seven that night.

After reading several articles about him and the scandal of Madison's announcement that they were going to get married and raise her husband's child by another woman, Sabrina thought Cade might be right about Zachary possibly being his half-brother. She'd thought of requesting the appointment as newlyweds or newly engaged, but she didn't want Cade to think she was being pushy. In the end she'd given a false name.

Paying the driver, Sabrina went to Cade's office and straight to the reception window. “It's extremely important that I see Cade when he's free. Please tell him that Sabrina Thomas is here.”

The older woman's eyes narrowed. “You sent all those things.”

“Yes.”

“I don't guess you'd be here if your brother wasn't doing well.” She came to her feet. “I'll show you to his office and tell him you're here.” She met Sabrina at the door leading to the exam rooms. “Iris Johnson. Glad to finally meet you. You did what I was beginning to think impossible.”

“I love him,” Sabrina said simply.

“It shows. On both of you.” Iris opened another door. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Sabrina stepped inside the office, where she was struck by all the degrees, certificates, accolades, the shelves that held books and journals, but none of the family mementos and items her father and grandfather liked. That would change.

The door opened behind her. She whirled to see Cade. “I found Zachary Holman.”

*   *   *

Kara screeched to a halt in her drive and slammed out of the car. She went straight to her mother's closed door. She opened it without knocking.

Her mother rose up from the chaise longue. “What's wrong with you?”

Kara went to the walk-in closet and pushed open the sliding doors. “Where are they?”

“Where's what?” her mother called. “Get out of my closet.”

Kara ignored her mother and went to the back of the closet. Her teeth clenched on seeing the dust covers for four designer handbags. There were six hanging bags with clothes.

“You get out of there,” her mother called from directly behind her.

Kara whirled, stepped around her mother, and went to where she kept her jewelry. The diamond earrings were in a velvet case by themselves. Kara picked them up and faced her mother. “Why? Just tell me why?”

“I need things and you're too stingy and mean to give them to me,” she said, reaching for the earrings.

Kara kept them out of reach. “So badly that you stole my credit card?”

“Don't you dare talk to me like that,” she said. “I saw that check in your wallet.” Kara's eyes widened. “You weren't planning to tell me, were you? If you were paid that much for four paintings, you stand to make a small fortune when you sell the rest, so stop complaining.”

“Why did you have me?” Kara asked. “Why? Answer me!”

Her mother flinched, then her eyes narrowed. “Because your daddy kept on me about having a baby,” she shouted. “I grew up with nothing. There was never enough to go around with fourteen children, not food, not clothes, not love. I swore when I got grown and married I'd have it all.” Her eyes fired. “Your daddy promised he'd give me anything I wanted. He promised.”

“And worked two jobs, sometimes three, that sent him to an early grave, to give it to you,” Kara said, her voice and body trembling. “Did you ever love either of us?”

“I wanted someone just for me,” she said.

“That's what you had, but you were too greedy and too selfish to recognize it.” Kara tossed the earrings on the bed. “I'm leaving.”

“Where're you going?”

“Anywhere, as long as it's away from you.” In her room, she grabbed an overnight bag and stuffed things inside.

“If you think he wants you for anything more than what you're giving him, you're wrong,” her mother said nastily. “He doesn't want you.”

Kara jerked up her bag. “Neither do you.”

“You come back here! You promised your daddy!” her mother screamed, trailing after her. “Who's gonna take care of me?”

Kara whirled at the door. “That's no longer my problem. Good-bye.” Kara went through the door, hearing her mother screaming her name. She got in her car, backed up, and drove away with absolutely no idea where she was going.

*   *   *

Cade pulled up behind the big black truck at a quarter to seven. He'd never been this anxious, not even the first time he'd assisted in the operating room.

“It's going to be all right,” Sabrina said from beside him.

He caught the hand that reached out to him. She was his one constant. “As long as I have you, it will be. Come on.” Releasing her hand, he got out. By the time he rounded the car, a tall, brown-skinned man with broad shoulders was coming down the walkway. Cade paused, then felt Sabrina join him and curve her arm around his waist.

“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.” The man extended his hand, tipped his baseball cap to Sabrina. “I'm Zachary Holman of Holman Construction.”

Cade had been studying the man for any resemblance so intently it took him a moment to remember he and Sabrina were the Thompsons looking for their second home. The handshake was firm, the eye contact direct. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Cade said.

“No problem.” Zachary glanced back at the two-story mansion with a balcony on the second floor. “It gave me a chance to look everything over again before the open house. Come on, I'll show you and your wife around.”

“Thank you,” Sabrina said.

“If you like to cook, Mrs. Thompson, the kitchen has all Viking appliances with a Sub-Zero refrigerator, warming oven, and wine refrigerator. After seeing the hardwoods on the floor and the cabinets, my wife has been hinting at remodeling our kitchen.” He opened one of the iron doors and stepped back for them to enter first.

Although Cade wasn't interested in a house, he was impressed by the extensive use of molding, the wide Italian marble entryway, the double staircase, the infinity pool beyond the wall of glass in the living room. Sabrina paused to look at the paintings in the entryway.

“They're good, aren't they? The artist, Kara Simmons, will be here tomorrow. You'll see her work throughout the house. She's a talented young woman,” Zachary said.

“You don't mind spotlighting someone else's work at your open house?” Sabrina asked, almost positive of the answer.

“Of course not,” he said easily. “Her work shows the house better. Besides, I was always taught that if you could help someone, do it.”

“Did your father teach you that?” Cade asked.

“And my mother,” Zachary said.

Cade couldn't wait any longer. “What about your biological father?”

Zachary frowned. “What?”

“A.J. Reed,” Cade answered.

Anger swept across Zachary's face in a heartbeat. His weight shifted. “Get out of my house. Now!”

Cade realized he had to talk fast. “I was given up for adoption when I was less than a day old. I grew up not knowing about my biological parents until recently. I learned a few days ago that A.J. Reed, no matter how despicable, is my father. I went to meet him and he talked about Wes, the only son he'll ever recognize, but he also talked of you finally stepping into Wes's shoes. He was livid and stopped short of saying he wasn't going to ‘claim' you.

“I guessed you were his son, and the daughter you and your wife are raising was Wes's. A.J. became nervous and denied the little girl was his granddaughter. Since I later found out it's public knowledge that Manda was Wes's, I reasoned he must be afraid of you. There has to be a compelling reason for a braggart like A.J. to fear you.” Cade swallowed. “Are you my half-brother? Do I have a niece?”

Zachary stared at Cade a long time.

“Please,” Sabrina said. “All he wants is to know if you're related. You can ask Tristan about him. Kara is my best friend.”

“Let me see your driver's license,” Zachary said.

Cade pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. “We didn't give you our real names because Sabrina just found out today from Kara that you were married to Madison and how to locate you. I wanted to meet you privately. What other information do you need?”

“I was looking for your birth date,” Zachary said.

Cade lifted his head. “What?”

“A.J. is scum.”