by Floyd, Jacie
The comment, coming out of the blue, surprised Kara. “Why does she think I’m not?”
“You’re too careful to be happy.”
“It makes me happy to be careful.” She opened a packet of mustard and spread it on her turkey sandwich, knowing better than to let him see her expression.
“Unh,” her father grunted, a sound he made that all of his children recognized as disagreement.
They chewed in silence for a moment, but Kara had little appetite. After forty-eight hours of hospital food, everything tasted like the paper it came in. Maybe they could leave the hospital long enough to have a real dinner. If her mother continued to improve, a breath of fresh air would do them good.
Kara’s eyes drifted around the stark room. Her mother’s unnatural stillness made the room’s sterility seem all the colder. Bouquets of flowers and a row of family photos were the only bright spots. Sean’s smiling picture caught Kara’s attention. She wondered what he was doing right then in Atlanta. Aching to go to him, she knew her parents needed her to stay a bit longer.
“I like your young man,” her father said.
“Who, Sean?” Kara asked, removing her gaze from the photograph.
“That goes without saying,” her father said, chuckling. “He’s a dandy, that one, but I meant Wyatt.”
Her father had been so distracted and upset when she arrived at the hospital that Kara was surprised he even remembered meeting Wyatt. She looked at the basket of spring flowers he had sent and nodded. “He’s good to have around in difficult situations.”
Her father had been an air traffic controller, and even retired, Karl Sherman didn’t miss much. Hooking his eyebrows together over his nose in an expression that made him resemble an eagle, he fixed Kara with a formidable stare. “And not good to have around otherwise?”
She shrugged. Her mother’s illness had already brought her emotions too close to the surface, and a discussion of her uncertain future with Wyatt Maitland was not a conversation she wanted to have.
“He seemed pretty attached to you and Sean.”
“He does seem so, doesn’t he?”
“Why do you put it like that? Don’t you trust him?” Her father cleared his throat, apparently as uncomfortable as Kara at the personal nature of the comment.
“It’s not that, exactly.” What little appetite she had suddenly disappeared. She wrapped up the remains of her lunch and put it in the trash. “I’ve been hurt before by someone I trusted. I’m not sure I could handle it again.”
“You didn’t handle it the last time.”
She pulled back in surprise. Why wasn’t her father more sympathetic to her pain?
He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind my saying, you ran away and hid. We didn’t understand that. Your mother and I let you do it because we thought you were entitled to handle your grief in your own way. But I’m thinking, you still haven’t handled it. And now you’re letting something that happened to you almost seven years ago prevent you from leading a happy, healthy life.”
Her cheeks flushed from the criticism. “You know what I’ve been through, and how much it hurt me.”
“Kara, your pain went way beyond hurt,” he said, gently. “You let what happened destroy the best part of you.”
“You don’t know what it’s like! You don’t know how hard it is.”
“You’re right, I don’t. You wouldn’t talk to me or anyone else about it. We begged you to go to counseling, but you refused. But I do know I’ve been scared spitless these last few days. Your mother and I have been together for forty years. She’s my life, and I can’t imagine going on without her. But I do know this. I’d be grateful for every second we’ve shared. Love lives on even if the person doesn’t, and I’d never close myself away from the people who mean the most to me just to protect myself.”
Kara stared in disbelief at her normally kind, gentle, understanding father. “You’ve been stewing over this for a while now, haven’t you?”
“Yep. If I wasn’t so tired and you weren’t so stubborn, I probably wouldn’t have said anything now—”
“I know you mean well—” Kara wanted him to stop.
“—but it needed to be said, missy.” His voice overrode her interruption. “It looks to me like you care about this man, but you’re letting unreasonable fears rule your decisions. Don’t let cowardice continue to paralyze you. Your mother and I raised you to be stronger than that.” His gaze turned back to the woman he adored, and he gently picked up her hand. “Love doesn’t come with any guarantees, but if you don’t make the most of it while you can, all you end up with is a lot of regrets.”
The doctor confirmed Isabelle’s diagnosis, and Wyatt followed her instructions to the letter. Sean’s fever abated with regular doses of Tylenol, and the irritation from the rash seemed to be controlled with corn-starch baths and Benadryl. Still, Wyatt attempted to limit him to quiet activities.
His first thought was not to concern Kara with the information. He knew how she would react—she was already upset about her mother—and he had the situation under control. But he also knew he couldn’t encourage Sean to lie, and the child had no concept of secrecy. As soon as she asked to speak to her son, he would blurt out all the news according to Sean. The first day, Sean had been sleeping when she called.
The second day, Wyatt could tell immediately that Kara’s spirits had rebounded. Mrs. Sherman’s condition had improved significantly, and she would be returning home very soon. Kara’s sister, Gretchen, had returned from Australia and could stay with her parents for a few days. Her entire family was urging Kara to join Sean and Wyatt in Atlanta.
“Do you still want me to come?” Her voice quavered with uncertainty. “I can be there by three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Yes, of course. That will be great,” he said, aware he could no longer avoid telling her the truth. “I can send a jet for you.”
“I’ve already booked a flight.”
“Uh, Kara...”
“Can you give me your mother’s address? I’ll get a taxi to bring me there to pick up Sean, I guess, but where will we stay? Did you cancel our hotel reservations?”
“Text me your flight info. I’ll send someone to pick you up at the airport, but I think you’ll want to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Well—” This was worse than any confession he’d ever had to make. “You see, Kara, Sean has the chicken pox.” There, now it was out in the open.
“When did he get sick? Has he seen a doctor? Are you sure he has the chicken pox? What symptoms does he have? Why didn’t you tell me?” With each question, fear pushed the tone of her voice higher.
He understood her concern and even her outrage at being kept in the dark. The only course open to him now was to reassure her and get her here as soon as possible. He told her about the doctor’s visit. “She said chicken pox is a common childhood illness. It’s going around right now, and it’s nothing to be worried about. She’s seen cases much worse than Sean’s.”
“But it affects each child differently,” Kara objected. “How can she be sure Sean isn’t suffering?”
“He doesn’t appear to be.” Wyatt looked across the room at the boy enjoying a bowl of banana pudding. “But I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”
“Has he been asking for me?” she demanded. “I’ve never been away from him when he was sick before.”
“I’ll let you talk to him.”
The boy took the phone and Wyatt let him conduct his own conversation. Talking to Sean would reassure Kara more quickly than anything Wyatt could say. Words like itchy, hot, and ice cream peppered Sean’s part of the exchange.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let him go with you,” Kara said when Wyatt recovered the phone from a small sticky hand.
“How would that have helped? The doctor said he was exposed two to three weeks ago.”
“Oh, no!” Kara moaned. “That’s when we started taking him out in public. I knew we shouldn
’t have taken him out.”
“Kara,” Wyatt said, trying to retain his patience, “he’ll be fine.”
“But I’ve read that in small children it can cause pneumonia or encephalitis.”
“Only in severe cases without medical supervision.” He heard Kara take a deep breath before continuing her harangue, but he stopped her. “There’s no point in arguing about it. You probably have a lot to do to get ready for your flight, don’t you?”
Chapter Nineteen
Sean settled down for his nap after lunch. Wyatt headed to the sunroom in response to a summons from his mother. He’d expected the request to come sooner rather than later and was relieved she hadn’t insisted on the confrontation while he’d been tending a sick child.
The sunroom, with a view of the gardens and pool, was a favorite spot of Rosalie’s. Never one to waste time, she held a rosewood lap desk and wrote personal notes while she waited.
Watching her for a moment before she became aware of his presence, Wyatt considered the false picture of frail Southern gentility she portrayed. Still a beautiful woman, her hands were the only part of her that showed any sign of her age.
As he stepped into the room, she looked up, and her face, her posture, and her eyes betrayed the steel beneath the magnolia, the woman who ran an empire. He recognized that look from every business negotiation he’d ever attended with her. It usually meant there was a plan afoot and she intended to have her way. She usually got it, too.
She set the desk aside and removed her reading glasses. “I understand Kara is arriving this afternoon.”
He took a seat in a wicker rocker. “She’s getting in at three.”
“Is Jonah picking her up?”
“No, Allie.” Wyatt might consider Jonah a member of the family, but Rosalie didn’t. He knew she recognized very well the significance of having his sister perform the service.
Her mouth compressed into a disapproving line. “I’m sure Allison has more important matters to attend to.”
“Maybe, but she agreed to do this as a favor for me.”
Rosalie made a tsking sound accompanied by a shake of her head. “I don’t know why that woman is so important to you when you have all the women in the south to choose from.”
“Not quite that many.” Wyatt swallowed back a more biting retort. He was determined not to argue with her on the eve of her birthday, but his caution was based on more than that. Of late, he had wearied of their adversarial relationship. Maybe he’d come to realize it wasn’t that easy to be a parent, or maybe, he was just tired of the drama it involved.
One of Izzy’s young relatives entered the solarium and poured glasses of ice water with lime. “Will that be all, ma’am?”
Rosalie dismissed the girl with a nod, but Wyatt stopped her. “Lucy, Izzy’s upstairs with Sean. Would you check and see if they need anything?”
“How is the little darling this afternoon?” Rosalie almost glowed at the mention of her grandson.
“Much better, except for all those spots.”
“He’s behaving very well for a child who’s not feeling well.” Rosalie beamed with pride.
Wyatt sipped his water and set it aside. “After lunch he wanted to go out and play. I said he had to stay inside while he’s sick, and he said, ‘I’m not sick, Daddy, I itch’.”
Rosalie smiled. “So bright, so clever. Just like you at that age. Much like your father, too.”
Wyatt’s eyebrows soared. “You don’t mention my father very often.”
“I should, I suppose. We were married a long time. But the way he died was such a betrayal to me, to my name, to our marriage and the life we shared. I find it hard to forgive him for that.”
Wyatt supposed she’d known about his father’s mistress before his fatal heart attack in the woman’s bed. But still, it would have been a terrible blow to her pride to know that the rest of the world was aware of it, too.
“But there was good there, too, and there’s much of him in you and your son.” Something new and calculating in her expression warned Wyatt they had reached the crux of the conversation. “I’d like to think Sean’s future is in good hands.”
“Whose did you have in mind?”
She lifted her blue-veined, pampered hands as if they contained an invisible ball. “Right now, it’s in mine.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “How do you figure that?”
She lifted her chin to its most imperial height, the way she did when issuing a proclamation. “As it has been for generations, the future of Wyatts is controlled by the one who runs the business.”
“My future and my son’s future,” Wyatt retorted, “are not synonymous with the future of the business.”
“But they should be,” she stated. “They could be.”
“No, Mother,” Wyatt said firmly. “They could not.”
“Tomorrow night, at my party, I plan to officially name you as my successor.” She folded her hands in her lap and calmly waited for the salvo to land.
“No, Mother.”
She hesitated only briefly before forging onward. “I know you’ve always said you didn’t want the position, but isn’t that simply idle talk leftover from your adolescent rebellion? I was patient with your need to distance yourself from your destiny for a while, but I’ve always believed you would set aside that teaching nonsense one day and resume your true place in the family hierarchy. Now that you have your own child and I’m getting older, you must accelerate your return to Wyatt Enterprises.”
“Spare me the inspiring call to arms,” Wyatt broke in when she paused for breath. “This is very touching, but we both know you have no intention of retiring. I’m certain if I agreed to this scheme, in twenty years you’d still be at the helm and I’d be dead from boredom as your successor-in-waiting.”
“If that’s what’s holding you back, we’ll draw up a formal agreement that will ensure my removal by a specific date.”
“That isn’t what’s holding me back.” He could see her eyes sharpen as she prepared to change tactics, and he took her hands in his. “We’ve had this conversation before, Mother, but you never listen. This time I want to make sure you understand. I have no intention of ever returning to Wyatt Enterprises on a full-time basis.”
“But we need you.” She played the sense of responsibility card, the one she had crafted just for him over the years. “You’re the logical choice.”
“Only to you.” He squeezed her hands gently. “There are others far more capable than I, if you would be willing to consider them.”
“You mean Allie.” Rosalie returned her hands to her lap. “I should have known you’d take her side.”
“You should be taking it yourself. She’s worked her way up from every thankless position you’ve ever stuck her in and earned the respect of every person around her while she did. Everyone’s respect but yours.”
Rosalie waved away his words. “She doesn’t have the kind of business intuition that can’t be taught. You have it, and I have it. Jackson used to have it until he got old and wanted life to be comfortable rather than interesting.”
“Allie has something better. She has the desire to succeed. And she will, with your help or without it. I think you should give her your backing. Share your expertise with her,” he urged, “and you’ll be surprised at how far she’ll go. Otherwise, she just might decide to go somewhere else. Like I did.”
His mother tapped her manicured fingernails against the arms of her chair and considered. “If I agree to start making an integral place in the business for Allison, will you agree to come back and share the responsibility with her?”
“No.” He had to give her points for not giving up, but that’s all he’d give her. “If you name her as your successor tomorrow night instead of me, I’ll agree to stay on the board and lend her my advice and support whenever she needs it. And if you don’t, I’ll never work another day for Wyatt Enterprises.”
Not much of a threat, but he knew Rosalie would recogniz
e the underlying meaning of his words. His sister meant more to him than the business did, and he would walk away from it if it came to a choice.
They looked at one another across the space of a few feet, but their clash of wills spanned decades. This time, she blinked first. “You don’t work many days now.”
“Those will dwindle to none.”
She sighed, and with a bat of her eyelashes, she signified her decision. Still, she made one more stab at changing the outcome. She wouldn’t have been his mother if she hadn’t. “You drive a hard bargain. See why I want you to take over for me?”
“No, I don’t. On a personal level, you disapprove of every choice I’ve ever made. But regarding the business, you’ve always acted like I’m the next coming of Christ. Allie has been devoted to you for years, and if it comes to that, Chase worships at the Wyatt altar along with her. I have never understood your obsession about drawing me back into the fold.”
“It’s simple, really.” Her look softened, and for a moment, she looked more like a mother than a businesswoman. “You have a natural gift for it, but you’ve always been so independent. I’ve been afraid that if you aren’t tied to the company, then you aren’t tied to me.”
Years of resentment and misunderstandings dissolved with her honesty. Now that he was a parent himself, he understood her concerns more clearly. “Mother, we aren’t tied together by the company. We never have been. We’re tied together by love and blood and so much shared tradition and history. If I never stepped inside the office of Wyatt Enterprises again, I’ll still be bound to you more tightly from inclination than any contract you could devise.”
“You’ve broken away from us many times,” she said, an observation rather than a criticism.
“And yet, I always returned. And I always will.”
“With Sean?”
“With Sean.” He bent over to kiss her lightly on the cheek. “And Kara too, if things work out the way I hope.”
“Is she the really the one who will make you happy?” For once, she seemed concerned, not critical.