by Francis Ray
“And you?”
“Hennessy please, and a lunch menu.”
“We serve from the buffet, but I’ll be happy to bring your food,” she said, and named the entries.
“Just a spinach salad with vinaigrette,” Cade said.
She smiled and turned to A.J. “What about you?”
He wasn’t smiling. “You know what I like.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And stop calling me sir.”
“I didn’t mean anything.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you say.”
The smile returned. He was appeased. It seemed the hostess had a bigger BS meter than A.J. did. She probably loathed him and he’d never know it.
“I’ll send the drinks over right away and personally go into the kitchen and prepare your food,” she told them, and left.
A.J. leaned back in his chair. Obviously he thought he was the big man and wanted to be treated accordingly. He didn’t like that the hostess had paid more attention to Cade, which meant he was insecure and petty.
“You come here often?” Cade asked.
A.J. grinned and looked around. “A man’s gotta have a little diversity.”
“Here you are.” A woman in a revealing red bustier and short shorts set the drinks on the table, serving A.J. first. “Scotch for Mr. Reed. Hennessy for his guest.”
Another twenty hit the table. She swiped it up and ignored the hand on her butt. If ever a man disgusted him more on such short notice, Cade couldn’t remember. He sipped his drink and watched A.J., who watched the dancer on stage.
Cade motioned toward the ring on his hand. “Aren’t you concerned?”
A.J.’s eyes hardened. “No. My life is my own. You single?”
Cade thought about Sabrina, the life they might have had together and then pushed her away. “Yes.”
“Smart man.” A.J. leaned closer. “But you’d be surprised at the women who fall for the old trick about not being happy, especially when they see I’m loaded. Get more tail than I can handle.”
Cade clenched the glass to keep from shoving his fist into A.J.’s crude mouth. “What about the consequences?”
“Here you go, Mr. Reed,” the hostess said, serving A.J., and then Cade. She wasn’t making that mistake again.
“He’s a doctor from Dallas. He drove from Houston to buy one of my cars,” A.J. announced proudly, then he picked up his knife and fork to cut into his steak.
“You made the right decision. Mr. Reed is known for miles around because of his dealership. If you need anything else, just let me know.” She moved away.
“What kind of consequences?” A.J. asked around a mouthful of bloodred beef.
Cade’s hand tightened around his glass. “Children.”
A.J.’s dark brown eyes hardened. “You mean bastards,” he snapped. “I only had one child I claim. A son.” His voice quivered, strengthened.
Cade’s heart raced. He had a brother. He wasn’t alone. “Where is he?”
A.J. visibly swallowed. “Gone. The governor and mayor came to his funeral. He was an important man. The world loved him.”
Grief hit Cade. He leaned forward in his chair. “When? How?”
A.J.’s face contorted with fury. “Almost five years ago. Damned drunk driver. If he’d just done what I taught him about women he’d be alive today.” Bitterness coated each word. He snatched up his drink and downed half the contents.
“I’m sorry,” Cade murmured, wondering if A.J.’s son had been as careless with women as his father.
“Maybe you heard of him? Wes Reed.” A.J. said the name proudly. “He was a nationally known news correspondent and lived in Dallas.”
Cade had. If he had come to Dallas sooner he might have met him. “Wasn’t he married to a Dallas talk show hostess?”
“Madison Reed,” A.J. snarled. “I hope she rots in hell. If she’d been the kind of woman Wes needed he wouldn’t—” He emptied his glass. The waitress quickly refilled it and moved away.
Wheels were turning in Cade’s head. Madison Reed still lived in Dallas. Hadn’t he seen her on TV in one of his patients’ rooms talking about her family a couple of months ago? “I seem to remember seeing Madison on TV with a little girl around five. Is she your grandchild?”
A.J. looked as if he wanted to lunge across the table and choke the life out of Cade. “It ain’t fair that Wes died and that whelp lived. She should have died with her no-good mother. That bitch Madison let that bastard step into Wes’s shoes just like he always wanted. But I’ll never claim—” A.J. snapped his mouth shut and straightened.
Cade’s agile brain, which had helped him finish in the top 3 percent of his class, quickly processed A.J.’s rage-filled words. “So the little girl is Wes’s and Madison’s husband is Wes’s half-brother,” he guessed.
A.J. quickly glanced around as if to make sure no one had heard Cade. He reached for his drink only to push it away. “I never said that. We’re here to talk about cars.”
Cade wondered about the reason behind the flash of fear in the other man’s eyes, and casually picked up his drink. “I always heard grandparents doted on their grandchildren.”
“I didn’t say anything about a grandchild.” A.J. cleaned his hands with a paper napkin. “We need to get back.”
Cade wanted to keep him talking, but he could see A.J. retreating. He was mean, hateful, and angry. If A.J. had loved anyone, it was the son he’d lost. But … “What if you had another son?”
A.J. jerked his head up and stared hard across the table at Cade. “I just told you I only had one son. The rest are bastards.”
It was now or never, Cade thought. “Christine James is my birth mother and she says you’re my father.”
A.J.’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardened. He started to rise then sat back down. “She meant nothing to me. Anything she birthed means even less.” He picked up the glass he’d pushed away and drained the contents. “Wes was my only son. I’d trade every bastard who ever claimed my seed and the women who birthed them for Wes to be alive.”
There it was. He wasn’t wanted.
“And you can get it out of your head if you think to get my money. You aren’t the first one to come crying to me. Just like the rest, you mean nothing to me,” A.J. flung.
“You mean even less to me.” Cade pulled out his billfold, making sure A.J. saw the black Centurion American Express credit card, the platinum and diamond stud cuff links as he tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table. He came to his feet. “I could buy and sell you if I wanted. I’ve succeeded. People respect me. They loathe you and you deserve every second of their scorn. One day you’ll need someone, and no one will be there.”
Cade walked away. He didn’t look back. He had the answer he wanted. No one wanted him, not then and not now.
* * *
Cade hit the freeway with a burst of speed, leaving Sugarland behind him. He’d be in Houston soon. He was driving straight to the airport. His hand gripped the steering wheel. He’d hoped his father— He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going there.
At least he’d learned he had a half-niece, and a half-brother. Perhaps he could connect with them and finally be a part of a family. Or would they turn their backs on him as well? He had an abysmal track record for people who wanted him to be a part of their lives.
Sabrina’s smiling face flashed in his mind before he could stop it. He ruthlessly tried to push the image away. He succeeded only for it to be replaced with one of tears sparking in her eyes. He muttered a curse.
His ringing cell phone blessedly chased the image from his mind. He eagerly snatched it from the inside of his coat. “Hello.”
“Cade, oh, God, Cade.”
His grip on the phone tightened. She sounded frightened. The overwhelming need that she be safe overruled everything else. “Sabrina, what is it? Are you all right?”
“No. Yes.”
Cade slowed on the busy freeway, and pulled over to the outside lane to take the next
exit. “Sabrina, are you hurt?” He tried to stay calm, but his hands were trembling. She wasn’t a hysterical or indecisive woman. “Sabrina?”
“It’s Stephen. He’s been hurt.”
The younger brother she loved. Taking the exit, he pulled into a service station and parked. He didn’t have to ask if it was bad, he heard the fear in her voice. “Has the doctor had a chance to evaluate him?”
“He-he says the head injury is too extensive for anything to be done, but he’s wrong. You have to come and see Stephen. You can save him. Please.”
“Sabrina, I’m sorry.” Families often found it difficult to accept the truth. He’d give anything for her to have been spared this. Rubbing the back of his neck, he paced beside the rental. “Who saw him?”
“Dr. Fielder. Dad says he’s supposed to be the best, but he’s not. You are.”
Cade knew Fielder, had done a consultation with him several weeks ago, but he lived in Houston. “Fielder has a good reputation.”
“But he’s not you. I want you.”
He wanted too, wanted to be there for her, wanted her. He’d learned long ago you didn’t always get what you want. “I’m out of the city.”
“Where are you?”
He paused. “Outside of Houston.”
“You saw him, then?”
Her mother must have told her. His hand flexed on his thigh. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. His loss.”
My loss. The way it had always been. “I’m driving to the airport to catch a plane back to Dallas.”
“Thank God. Stephen is in Texas Hospital in Houston. I came back with my parents. Please come.”
His fist clenched, he shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Cade, please. He won’t make it if you don’t. The doctor hasn’t given him much time. Mother is hysterical. Father isn’t much better. Neither are my grandparents.”
No matter how selfish, one thought ran through his mind. “Stephen has people who love him, cried for him. I never have.”
“Yes, you have. Me,” she told him.
How he wished that was possible. “I can’t help you.”
“Cade, don’t blame Stephen for what happened to you.”
“I don’t blame him. I envy what he had. I have to go.”
“Cade, please. The man I fell in love with, the man who fights for his patients, the man who overcame incredible odds to rise to the top of his profession, wouldn’t turn his back on a young man who desperately needs him.”
“He has a doctor,” Cade reminded her.
“He’s not you,” she said. “Stephen needs the best to make it. He needs you. We both do.”
Cade silently shook his head again. She was asking too much.
“I love you, Cade. You have to come for your sake as much as Stephen’s. You care. Helping people is not just a job to you, it’s who you are. He’s on the eighth floor in ICU. You can’t turn your back on him.”
“Why not? Everyone turned their back on me,” he said, and disconnected the call. He didn’t want to see Stephen’s mother crying for her son when she’d never shed one tear for him. He couldn’t.
Starting the motor, he got back on the freeway and headed for the airport.
Twenty
“Is he coming?” her grandfather asked, his face strained.
Sabrina briefly shut her eyes. “I don’t know.”
He nodded and turned to look at his daughter, who was softly crying in her husband’s arms. “I’ve only felt this helpless one other time in my life.”
Sabrina leaned her head against his shoulder, her arm going around his waist as his went around hers. “The night Cade was born.”
She felt his sigh rather than heard it. “She changed from an outgoing young woman to a depressed, fragile thing who wouldn’t even look at me or her mother. Giving him up wasn’t easy.”
“Thirty-eight years ago it wasn’t as accepted for an unwed mother or the child,” Sabrina said. “I know you and Mother meant well, but his childhood was horrible. The emotional scars run deep.”
Her grandfather faced her, then he lowered his head for a moment. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t. He was my first grandchild. I would have moved heaven and earth to have kept him, but your mother was too fragile. The family he went to was supposed to be decent, hardworking Christians. I thought he was all right.”
He visibly swallowed. “I stayed out of his life until he graduated from high school. I asked the lawyer who located the couple and handled the paperwork to check and see which college he planned to attend. I wanted to ensure he had the opportunity and learned he wasn’t going because they couldn’t afford it. Through the lawyer I arranged for a ‘benefactor’ to pay for his full tuition.”
“You,” she guessed.
He almost smiled. “He graduated summa cum laude and continued to be the best.”
“Medical school is expensive,” Sabrina said.
“He was my first grandchild,” her grandfather said as if that explained everything. “I wanted him to have every chance in life.”
Sabrina kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. Cade thinks no one has ever cared for him, cried for him. I’m glad I’m not the first.”
“And I’m glad he has you.”
“I just hope he does,” she said, turning as the door to the ICU opened and Stephen’s doctor came out. She and the family members and friends waiting converged on the thin, weary-looking man.
“Is there any change?” Stephen’s father asked.
“Not for the better I’m afraid,” Dr. Fielding said. “The swelling has increased. His neuro signs are decreased.”
“No. No,” her mother sobbed.
“I’m sorry. As you know, closed head injuries are tricky. The baseball was hit with an aluminum bat, which propels the ball faster, which in turns makes the injury worse.”
“Can’t you go in and relieve the pressure?” her grandfather asked.
“Ordinarily we could, but another problem has presented itself. The CT scan revealed a tumor exactly in the area we need to go in.”
“A tumor?” Sabrina said.
“Yes. He was probably having vision and depth perception problems, which explains why he missed the line drive and the ball hit him in the head,” Dr. Fielding went on to say.
“He thought his vision problems were because he was studying so much,” his mother said softly. “He didn’t want to be bothered with contacts or eyeglasses. I should have insisted he be checked.”
“It’s not your fault, Mother.” Sabrina gently touched her mother’s arm. “Is surgery our only hope?”
“Yes,” Dr. Fielding answered.
“We’ll sign the consent,” her mother said.
For the first time Dr. Fielding looked uncomfortable. “Marshall,” he began, calling Sabrina’s father by his first name. “Can I talk with just the immediate family?”
Sabrina clutched the hands of her grandparents, as everyone except her parents and grandparents left them with the doctor. She knew before he spoke that none of them were going to like what the doctor had to say.
“All right. Say it,” her father said tersely.
Sabrina understood and hoped that Dr. Fielding did as well. Her father was angry at the situation and his helplessness to help his son, not at the doctor.
“There’s nothing more that can be done,” Dr. Fielding told them.
“You’re the best. You have to operate,” her father said.
“I’m sorry. I won’t go in,” Dr. Fielding repeated. “I don’t know of any doctor who would.”
“I do.” Sabrina pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her slacks.
“Put the phone away, Sabrina,” her grandfather said.
“No, Cade has to come,” Sabrina said, fighting tears.
“He already has.”
* * *
Sabrina jerked around to see Cade walking toward them. He wore the forbidden expression that intimidated people. Sabrina intim
ately knew and loved the man behind the façade. With a shout of joy, she rushed to him, her arms going around his waist, just holding on.
“I knew you’d come. I knew it.”
She felt the hardness of his body, the warmth, then his arms curving loosely around her. For now it was enough. She made herself straighten and look up at him.
“Thank you.”
“I’m not promising anything,” Cade said.
“You’re here.” Taking his hand, she started back to Dr. Fielding. Her parents and grandparents stepped away. Sabrina hurt for all of them, but Stephen came first. “Dr. Fielding, I think you know Dr. Mathis.”
“Dr. Mathis,” Dr. Fielding greeted, extending his hand.
“Dr. Fielding,” Cade said. The handshake was brief.
“Dr. Mathis has agreed to consult on Stephen’s case,” Sabrina said.
Dr. Fielding’s stance changed. He turned to her parents who were standing a few feet away. “Marshall, is this what you want?”
“I want Stephen to have the best, and you two are the best,” her father placated. “Would you want any less for your child?”
Dr. Fielding seemed to lose some of his hostility. “Dr. Mathis, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the reports and you can examine him.”
Cade glanced down at Sabrina, then followed Dr. Fielding through the double doors of the ICU.
“Will he help Stephen?” her mother asked, her voice unsteady.
“Cade fights for his patients.” Sabrina hugged her mother, aware she had evaded giving her a direct answer. From the expression on her grandfather’s face he hadn’t been fooled. The first hurdle was Cade’s assessment of Stephen’s condition. He very well might agree with Dr. Fielding, but if he didn’t, would he try to save Stephen’s life?
* * *
Cade had wrestled with his decision to come all the way to the hospital. His birth mother and her parents had turned their backs on him and now they expected him to save their son, their grandson. His love for Sabrina had been stronger than his hatred of them. He’d finally stopped fighting that truth at least.
“As you can see, the tumor is sitting in a delicate place,” Dr. Fielding said. “Even if you were to try and remove it, the chances of him dying on the table are high. If he did make it off, he might never come out of the coma or he might have permanent brain damage.”