by Nan Dixon
Sage’s shoulder rubbed against hers. “You’re incredible.”
She turned for a brief second and smiled at him.
Above Sage’s head on a bookshelf sat a globe. Lord. Was it the one that her mother had given her father? Was this Poppy’s globe?
“Stop distracting the talent, Sage,” Kaden called.
Her breath puffed out. She’d stopped playing and singing.
Sage brushed a kiss on her nose. “I can’t help it.”
He turned her face back to the music. Where had she been?
She picked a measure and started, stumbling with the keys because her hands shook. She covered up the flaws by singing louder and her voice cracked.
“Relax.” Sage stood behind the bench and rubbed her shoulders.
She got through the song, concentrating harder than when she’d cut her first demo. The Fitzgeralds didn’t notice she’d flubbed the words or skipped two verses. They clapped like she’d given them a standing-ovation-worthy performance.
After the applause died, she closed the keyboard cover and twisted around on the bench. Out of the corner of her eye, the globe caught the light. She swore it sparkled.
How would she answer her mother’s questions now that she’d found the globe that had been in their family for generations? Even she remembered Poppy holding it.
“Are you all right?” Sage asked. “You’re pale.”
“I’m...fine.” But she wasn’t.
Sage put an arm around her shoulder and she tucked her head into his body. The Fitzgeralds’ conversation swirled around, never really including her.
Only minutes ago she’d felt a part of this group. She was a fool. An outsider. The illegitimate daughter of this family’s father.
* * *
WHAT THE HELL had happened during that second song?
Sage swore the life had drained out of Carolina along with all the color in her face. She tripped climbing the carriage house stairs and he caught her.
Usually she caught him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She opened the door. “Wrong?”
“You’ve been upset all night. And something happened in the music room.”
“I... I looked at you and lost my place.” She dropped her keys in the bowl on the small entry table.
He turned her to face him, wanting to see her eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”
Tears made her blue eyes swim like the sea. “I... Couldn’t you see how much of a family they were?”
“Ye-es.” He drew the word out, not understanding why she was upset.
“You wouldn’t understand.” She chewed her lip.
If this was a suspect he was interrogating, he’d assume she was thinking up a lie. But this was Carolina. He cupped her face. “Help me understand.”
“They have each other. The sisters. They’ve always had each other.”
This was about her mother—and her. “And you only have your mother.”
She nodded. A single tear slid down her cheek, ripping a steer-size hole in his heart. Her mother was dying.
“You aren’t alone,” he whispered. “You have me.”
He kissed the tears streaming down her face away. Kissed each eye. Kissed her salty lips. “Carolina, you have me.”
Her mouth sought his. Their breaths heaved together and comfort turned to passion.
He toed off his shoes, his mouth never leaving hers. Twisting and turning, never pulling apart, they stumbled down the hall and collapsed on her bed.
“Please, Sage.” She tugged on his shirt as he unknotted her sundress.
Her nipples tightened as he brushed his palm over them. He took her breast in his mouth and her hips rose. Each trail of his tongue had goose bumps popping up on her body. He kissed his way to her hips, tugging aside fabric and dress until she was laid out on the bed, a banquet, just for him.
Her breasts heaved up and down. She held up her arms. “I need you.”
She needed him. The words filled him with joy as only Carolina could. He wasn’t falling in love with Carolina, he loved her. The big L.
Sage ripped off his shirt and shorts, wanting to feel her skin on his. His heart pounded harder than if he’d ridden a bucking bronc for the mandatory eight seconds. He couldn’t refuse her, she made him spiral out of control. He grabbed a condom and rolled it on, settling into the cradle of her body.
“I’m here for you.” He nudged into her body, surprised at how easily they slid together. He wanted to remember this night. This sensation. The first time he truly made love to Carolina. “I love you.”
Her eyes went wide. And her cute mouth hung open. Her hips jerked, seating him deeper.
He circled his pelvis, rubbing against her tight bundle of nerves and watching her face.
“Sage!” Her body clutched his. She stared into his eyes, her hips rocking.
The waves of her orgasm started, squeezing, trying to force him to lose control.
No. He held on. Waited. His breath rose and fell, synchronized with hers.
She dug her fingers into his butt. “Move.”
He did. Short, small strokes. He wanted her to repeat the words. Wanted her to reciprocate his love.
But talking in full sentences was impossible. Groans and moans echoed in the moonlit room. One-word directions in this land of pleasure.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oo-oh.”
He wanted to hold on, but her next orgasm took him over. He pumped deep, swearing he touched her soul.
Joy. Power. Pain. Ecstasy. And love. They filled him as their breaths heaved in and out. With her, he would be whole. With her, he could do anything.
Collapsing, she hugged him to her damp body. He nuzzled into her hair, needing to stay connected.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
And the surge of joy blinded him like a flash-bang grenade. He held her tight. With Carolina by his side, he could be a man that would make his family proud.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SAGE WOKE SMILING. He reached for Carolina, but there was only empty bed. Damn. He’d wanted to wake her. Instead, he smelled coffee. He could grab a cup and head home and try his modified workout. Then maybe Carolina would be up for lunch and dinner.
Shoot. She closed tonight.
Stretching, he rolled his head, testing his pain level. Nothing speared behind the eyes.
Maybe falling in love was the cure for what ailed him. He swung his legs to the floor, this time grinning. If he could just return to work, the world would be right. He’d get back to his life’s mission.
As he exited the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, his phone rang. “Hey, Jackson, are you still saving the world?”
“One fire at a time. Although right now, we’re fighting grass fires.”
“Is the ranch in danger?” Here he’d been thinking about his own recovery and Carolina’s mother and hadn’t thought about his family.
Carolina poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him. He brushed a kiss on the top of her head and wrapped an arm around her, keeping her by his side.
“Nothing near the ranch. We’ve been lucky. Lightning’s been setting off the prairies. What we need is a good soaker.”
“How are Mom and the family?” Sage took a gulp of coffee, burning his throat.
Carolina snuggled into his chest, a perfect fit.
“Good,” Jackson said. “But how are you doing? How’s the head wound?”
“Healing.” He blew on his coffee before taking another sip. “I was cleared to start working out.”
Carolina stiffened in his arms. Shit. He hadn’t told her. He’d sat on the news, worrying about her reaction.
“That’s good,” Jackson said. Alarms clanged in the background. “Gotta go.”
“Stay alert,” Sage said.
“You, too.”
Sage shut off his phone and set his coffee on the counter. He hugged Carolina but she put her hands on his chest, keeping him at a distance.
“You’ve been cleared to exercise?” Her blue eyes were wary. “That’s a big step, right?”
“Yeah.” He slid his hands to her hips and tried to pull her closer. No go.
Her neck muscles worked up and down as she swallowed. “When were you going to tell me?”
“I... I was going to tell you. But with your mother in the hospital, you have enough on your plate. I don’t want you to worry.”
“Worry?” She wiggled out of his embrace and crossed her arms, leaning against the stove. “My mother’s been holding steady.”
“But she...” He stopped. He hadn’t told her because she’d been upset. “It was the day you were upset you were going to lose your mother and I was going to get better and you’d be alone.”
“So you couldn’t tell your fragile girlfriend.” Flames burned in her eyes.
“No that’s not it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Carolina, I love you.”
“Don’t haul out love and think it can smooth over you not telling me something this big.”
His spine straightened. “I’ve never told anyone I loved them. Now you’re making it sound—flip. I care when you’re sad. Shoot me. I care that your mother is suffering and it makes you hurt. I don’t want to hurt you, too.”
“Well you just did.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Come on. I thought what I was doing was right. I know you’re strong. I just don’t want you to worry you’ll lose me.” He cupped her face. “You won’t.”
She stared into his eyes. “Do you think I’m weak?”
“No.” Did he? “But, honey, you’re dealing with your mother.”
She snorted. At least that was better than tears. “I’m not sure I like being called honey.”
He was stepping on land mines left and right. “It’s what my father called my mother. They really loved each other.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Oh.”
“I’ll try not to call you that.” He reached out to touch her cheek but let his hand drop to his side.
“I’m a mess.” She stepped into his space.
He hugged her. “You’re dealing with your mother, a new job and an idiot boyfriend.” He hoped she’d laugh.
She rolled her forehead on his chest. “Thanks for putting up with my craziness. But please don’t keep things from me. It makes me feel—weak.”
“You’ve got it.” He kissed her. “I promise to always tell you the truth.”
She stiffened. “Thank you.”
He cupped her face. “I hope you’ll do the same.”
Panic flared in her eyes. “Of...of course.”
She kissed him, a desperate kiss. He had to reassure her. His ripped his mouth away. “I love you. You won’t lose me.”
“I love you, too.”
He’d dodged a bullet. He hoped. Sage couldn’t take another hit to the head—or his heart.
* * *
CAROLINA KICKED A stone from the sidewalk, sending it into the shrubbery. She couldn’t stop her sigh. She should be dancing with happiness. Sage loved her. She should be ecstatic.
But he expected her to tell the truth. She couldn’t. Not about her father. Not about the things her mother wanted her to do.
She almost didn’t want to go see her mother. She was in a bad mood. Her mother was volatile enough without Carolina adding to her worries. But Mamá was expecting her. Exhaling, she pushed away her negative thoughts.
She called each staff member by name as she headed to her mother’s room. Would Mamá ever come home?
“Hey, Mamá.” Her mother sat in bed, staring at the TV. “Don’t you look pretty? Did a nurse wash your hair?”
“Well, you weren’t here.” Mamá tucked her robe around her legs. “I couldn’t stand the itching.”
Carolina kissed her cheek. Was it possible that her skin had gotten thinner overnight? “I told you I would be here before lunch. Did they use the cream rinse I brought you?”
“How would I know?” Her mother’s mouth pursed. “It doesn’t itch as much anymore.”
“Good.” Carolina slid the chair to the side of the bed. “Are you ready for your treatment today?”
“I had it. They changed the schedule. I like it better in the afternoon. You weren’t there. I like knowing you’re in the waiting room for me. Instead, they had to wake me.” Her mother’s words spun out of her mouth. It was like her mother was having a manic episode.
“I’m sorry.” She took her mother’s hand but Mamá shook her off. “I would have tried to get here if I’d known they were going to reschedule it.”
“But you didn’t.” Her mother peered around. “And you didn’t bring me anything.”
“I haven’t had a chance.” And she’d run out of gift shop items. She needed to buy more soon.
“You never make time for me.”
“I’m here every day.” She hated the bite in her voice.
“But are you thinking of me or that young man who comes with you? What’s his name? Parsley?”
“It’s Sage.” She hoped her mother was making a joke and not losing her mind.
“Right.” Her mother tapped her finger. “He’s handsome, at least. Keep that one around. If you get pregnant, he’ll take care of you.”
Oh, Lord. “I’m not going to get pregnant.”
Mamá’s cheeks flushed bright red. Too bright. “He’s not married, is he?”
“No!”
“Make sure. Don’t get pregnant, unless he’s divorced. Don’t make my mistake. And make sure he has the money and not his wife.”
This was ugly. Had her mother actually tried to get pregnant? She wanted to cover her ears and hum. Her mother couldn’t have been that underhanded—could she?
“He’s not married,” Carolina whispered.
“Good. Is he rich?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Mamá pointed at her. “If you’re going to spend time with a man, at least make sure he has the wherewithal to keep you in style.”
Carolina shifted. Had her mother always thought like this or was this the tumors talking? “I’m hoping you’ll be well enough to come see me sing.”
“I want to leave. I want to go home.” Her mother picked at her covers.
Please no more seizures. Her mother hadn’t had one since before she’d started her radiation treatments. “Mamá, how do you feel?”
“Fine.” She stopped plucking. “Where are you singing again?”
“A new restaurant.” If her mother couldn’t remember she was singing for one of the Fitzgeralds, she wasn’t going to bring up the name.
“Right. Right.” Her mother sat back, her arm waving as if she heard music. “I loved singing in clubs. Handsome men always flirted with me. I looked good back then.”
“You’re still beautiful.” She’d always been gorgeous.
“I would pick out the best-looking man in the room and sing to him.” Mamá swayed. “That’s how I snared your father. He came to see me sing as often as he could. I let him kiss me.”
Oh, God. Mamá was talking about trapping men. Carolina’s heart should be full with Sage’s love, but it was breaking. Year after year Mamá had proclaimed her father was her only love. Could love have grown from something so...calculating?
“I’m going to help the restaurant owner buy a piano for the restaurant,” Carolina said. “What should I recommend?”
The question kept her mother from slipping into past. They discussed the best pianos to ensure Carolina’s voice would be heard.
“I always loved singing with a grand piano.” Her mother closed her
eyes and her voice slowed. “Maybe you can find that red-sequined dress I used to wear. It was perfect against a black piano. Make sure they get you a spotlight.”
“I remember that dress. It was stunning.” She would look for the dress next time she went to Tybee. “Maybe you can wear it to my opening.”
Her mother’s eyes stayed shut. Carolina slid back in the chair and watched her mother sleep.
Weight crushed her chest. She didn’t want to remember her mother lying in a hospital bed. She wanted to remember her mother dancing in the sunlight on the beach or watching her dress for the evening. Her mother would dust powder on Carolina’s face and tell her how beautiful she would be when she grew up. She wanted to remember the bright laugh when her father would come to the door carrying a bundle of flowers.
But he’d been someone else’s husband and father. And her memories tarnished like silver.
Mamá woke with a jerk. She sat up and pointed a finger at Carolina. “Did you find Poppy’s globe?”
“What?”
“Find it!” Her mother’s blue eyes were crazed. “Find it. Find it. Find it.”
Carolina swallowed and looked at the floor. She couldn’t tell Mamá she already had. “I don’t know where to look.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’re lying.” Her mother grabbed her hand. “It’s mine. Poppy brought it from Spain. Bring it to me.”
“I can’t.” She tried to pull her hand away.
“It’s mine.” Her mother’s fingernails dug into her skin. “I want it back.”
Her mother’s hand shook. Her head arched back, neck muscles standing out.
“Mamá!” Carolina pushed the call button. She yanked up the railing and rolled her mother to her side. “Mamá.”
Her mother’s body convulsed so hard the bed bounced on the floor.
Stroking her mother’s hair, she sang a lullaby, her voice breaking. “Please, come back to me.”
Teri rushed to Mamá’s bedside and checked her airways. “I thought we’d seen the last of these. How long ago did it start?”
“Right when I pushed the button.” Carolina didn’t trust her sense of time when her mother had a seizure. “Maybe two minutes?”
