by Francis Ray
“Of course. If you need anything else, just have me paged. Good-bye.” Sabrina left the room, hoping that she had helped, annoyed with herself that she hadn’t handled things better with Dr. Mathis, and even more annoyed with him.
* * *
Sabrina Thomas annoyed the hell out of him, Cade thought as he went through the hospital’s double exit doors and headed for his car. He paid no attention to the hot blast of June air that enveloped him. He might not have been in Texas for long, but he was used to the stifling heat. What he wasn’t used to was being questioned.
His mouth tight, he activated the locks on the black Lamborghini. No one at Texas Hospital, not even the chief of staff, had questioned Cade in the years he’d been associated with the hospital. Doctors from all over the country sought his advice. He was respected, feared, revered. He knew he was maligned—but never to his face.
Except by Sabrina Thomas.
Yanking open the door, he slid inside and started the engine. His mind still on Sabrina, he backed out of the space and headed for the exit gate. At first he’d thought she was on a power trip until he’d seen her more than once holding a less than clean child while talking to a patient or family member or buying food from the vending machine for patient family members. Dirty bedpans didn’t even faze her. She didn’t appear to mind doing menial things for patients or working late to push departments and agencies to help a family in need.
Sabrina Thomas cared about her patients. But she had to understand that patients didn’t look at their medical conditions logically. Unfortunately, neither did she, which made for a bad combination, especially since he preferred a calm, nonconfrontational life at work and at home. His life had been too chaotic and uncertain growing up not to crave peace. He wasn’t going to get that when they had the same patient.
The ringing phone interrupted his thoughts. He pushed ACCEPT on the wood grain control panel. “Dr. Mathis.”
“Dr. Mathis, you have a call from Mrs. Ward. She says it’s urgent,” came the cool, efficient voice of his office manager, Iris, through his radio. “Your three late appointments just signed in.”
He stopped at a red light. “Please tell them I’m on the way and put them in a room. I’ll be there in less than five minutes.” Some of his patients had difficulty getting off work so he had late appointments one day a week. “Put Mrs. Ward through.”
“Dr. Mathis?” came the tentative voice. By all rights she shouldn’t be alive. He’d stopped believing in a higher power for himself long ago, but he realized that for others there was such a thing.
He was different. He ruled his destiny, not some unseen force.
“Yes, Mrs. Ward.” She sounded shaky. “Are you feeling all right?” As much as he disagreed with her decision, she was still his patient and deserved his best. He never wanted to give less.
He’d gone into medicine to show a man he hated that he wasn’t worthless as he’d been told all of his life. Yet, somehow along the way he’d learned he could make a difference in people’s lives, and perhaps make up for the fact that no one had been there to make a difference in his.
“Yes. I-I…”
“Mrs. Ward, I have patients waiting at my office.”
“If it’s not too late, I want to have the surgery in the morning as scheduled.”
Frowning, he pulled through the light. “I haven’t taken you off the schedule so there shouldn’t be a problem. What changed your mind?”
“Sabrina.”
Surprised, he turned into the underground parking lot of his office building. “Ms. Thomas?”
“She said if she needed a neurosurgeon, you would be at the top of her very short list.”
Stunned—a rare occasion for him—Cade was momentarily at a loss for words, an even rarer occasion. He’d had the impression that Sabrina Thomas didn’t think too highly of him. He hadn’t minded. Usually, he could care less what people thought of him. Never had. Had always thought he never would. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
Cade disconnected the call, pulled into his reserved parking spot, and got out of his car. He had patients to see and then he was going to track down Sabrina Thomas. They were going to figure out a way to work together without all the friction.
Which meant she wouldn’t interfere with his patients’ care and he would have his calm, quiet life back, just the way it was before she’d come into it.
Two
Still peeved, Sabrina opened the door to her office on the first floor of the hospital and came to a complete stop. Her tightly compressed lips softened. Her stiff shoulders relaxed beneath the red linen suit jacket. Slowly she continued across the room, past the woman standing quietly to one side, until she was behind her desk.
Where there once hung a bland reproduction of a lighthouse, now hung a vivid oil painting of children playing in a lush field of wildflowers. She could almost hear the laughter, smell the fragrance of the flowers, feel the sun on her face.
“Kara, your talent never ceases to amaze and delight me.”
Kara Simmons’s tense shoulders relaxed as much as Sabrina’s had earlier. She came to stand beside Sabrina. “I’m glad you like it.”
Sabrina turned to the woman who had become her best friend since her move from Houston. Tall, slim, with a striking face that often turned heads—which she never seemed to notice—Kara was the calmest, most forgiving person Sabrina knew, and woefully insecure when it came to her paintings.
The connection between her and Kara had been immediate. They’d met Sabrina’s first day of work, when she’d gotten lost and asked the first friendly face with a Texas Hospital employee badge for directions. Kara, a social worker, had gladly shown Sabrina to her supervisor’s office located in the same wing as Kara’s department.
Hours later, in the cafeteria with a cold sandwich and a Pepsi, her head swimming with information and procedures, and a briefcase full of notes and forms, Kara had waved her over to her table. Over lunch, when Sabrina had mentioned she was looking for a place to rent or buy, Kara told her about a house near hers that turned out to be perfect.
“All of your paintings have been fantastic and this one is no exception.” Sabrina folded her arms across her chest. “Although I’m still annoyed that you won’t let me pay you for it.” She touched the carved mahogany frame. “Unlike the particle board that masqueraded as a frame on the previous painting, this is real wood and expensive.”
“I framed it myself, so that cuts down on cost.” Kara smiled. “Besides, it’s payback for letting me ride with you last week while my car was in the shop.”
Sabrina waved the words aside. “We work at the same place. It was fun driving in together. I just wish our schedules weren’t so erratic so we could do it more often.”
“You won’t get an argument from me, but neither one of us knows when we’ll have to work late,” Kara said. “Two days you had to wait over an hour while I worked with a nursing home to get a patient admitted.”
“And I used the time to catch up on paperwork that I’m always behind on,” Sabrina reminded her with a wrinkle of her nose. Although she enjoyed helping people, she detested the paperwork needed to get them that help and document what she’d done. “The painting is worth way more than what I did.”
“Not from my way of thinking. I didn’t have to rent a car or ride the DART.” Kara swept her hand over her head. “It rained two days and I would have gotten wet and this head would have been a hot mess.”
Sabrina laughed with Kara. She had thick, naturally curly hair that hung several inches past her shoulders. Today it was loose, but most days she wore it in a ponytail. “You have beautiful hair. I’d trade you any day for this.” Sabrina flicked straight strands of her smooth hair in a layered cut that framed her face. “I wish I had some curl, but one thing I wouldn’t trade is your friendship.”
“Same here. The picture before this was pitiful.” Kara touched the corner of the wooden frame.
“No argument,” Sabrina agreed. “It makes me smile, and today I need it.”
“What happened?” Kara asked, instantly alert. Her compassion was only one of the reasons that made her such a wonderful social worker and friend.
“Dr. Mathis,” Sabrina said. “Don’t say it,” she quickly added when Kara’s mouth began to curve into a smile.
Kara grinned, showing even, white teeth in her dark chocolate face. “You do like to live dangerously.”
Sighing, Sabrina placed her notebook on the desk. “Dr. Mathis sets my teeth on edge.”
Kara folded her arms and leaned against the desk. “He also revs your engine.”
Sabrina tsked and blew out a disgusted breath. “I didn’t know who he was at the time,” she defended. A week after she’d arrived, she and Kara had been headed to the cafeteria for lunch. The elevator door opened and he was there. Tall, muscular, and incredibly handsome in a white lab coat, she’d almost sighed. Her heart had actually thumped. Obviously, he hadn’t felt the same punch, because he’d walked past her as if she didn’t exist. Naturally, she’d asked about him.
“And now that you do?” Kara asked innocently, her light brown eyes twinkling.
Sabrina made a face. “He needs to learn not to dump information on patients. He’s so pragmatic.”
“Unfortunately, so are a lot of doctors, but we both know he cares about his patients. He’s spent many a night in the doctors’ lounge when he’s had a patient in crisis. If there’s a problem, he’s there. He’s only had one vacation in the time he’s been here.”
“I know. I’d think he was on an ego trip if he didn’t brush aside any and all accolades with that ‘My patients deserve the best I can give them’ speech. There’s a heart somewhere under that Valentino double-breasted suit.” Sabrina plopped into her leather chair behind her desk. “I trust you to get the full scoop of what the grapevine is saying about me.”
“The nurses will applaud you,” Kara said.
“The doctors will crucify me,” Sabrina said, then smiled mischievously. “It won’t be the first time. At least my direct supervisor won’t be back until Monday.”
“I’d say that calls for a celebration. Why don’t you come over tonight for dinner? I’m doing a new pasta and shrimp dish.”
Sabrina’s smile wavered. As much as she liked Kara, her mother barely tolerated Sabrina. In all the four months since Sabrina had moved in two doors down and all the times she’d been to Kara’s house, Sabrina had never seen the woman smile.
“It’s Thursday, so Mama will be glued to the TV set, watching her programs,” Kara coaxed, her smile a bit forced.
Sabrina immediately felt a twinge of guilt. “Since you’re a fabulous cook and hostess, you talked me into it. I’ll bring the wine.”
“Deal. See you when I see you.” Kara went to the door. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Sabrina said, then pulled the notebook toward her. She had one more patient to check on before she called it a day. Her mind tried to veer toward Dr. Mathis’s sexy body, but she pulled it firmly away. He was off-limits.
* * *
Cade looked at the GPS, then at the one-story cottage home on the quiet street off Polk Street in an older, slightly affluent neighborhood in Oak Cliff and frowned. The quaint brick-and-stone home wasn’t what he’d expected.
Sabrina Thomas dressed well, wore understated but expensive jewelry and the orthopedic-surgery-waiting-to-happen killer heels that women tortured their feet to wear. He thought she’d prefer a more happening and carefree place to live.
He had expected to see one of the new high-rise town homes or one of the apartments that catered more to an easy, affluent lifestyle that were popping up all over Dallas. A home meant work, permanence, and the very reason he’d chosen to live at Navarone Place.
He’d been lucky enough to purchase one of the highly prized penthouses that rarely came up for sale. The twenty-four-hour chef on duty meant Cade never had to worry about his dinner. He simply put in his weekly order on Sunday and the food was delivered to his penthouse at 7 P.M. each night. And, if he was going to be late, all he had to do was call and reschedule.
Getting out of the low-slung car, he rounded the hood and started up the curved walkway. By the door and under the two large oak trees on either side of the neatly trimmed yard were blooming flowers in a rainbow of colors. He couldn’t imagine her having the time to take care of the place herself.
However, if she liked flowers, perhaps he could smooth the tension between them with a bouquet or two. He wanted this animosity, or whatever it was between them, gone. Others on the staff might disagree with him, but they kept their opinions to themselves.
He just needed to get Sabrina to be the same way. He’d had enough chaos growing up to last several lifetimes.
Memories tried to surface of that forgotten time, but he ruthlessly pushed them away. He wasn’t a man to live in the past. His long finger pressed the doorbell almost covered by English ivy. He waited, and then rang again. He glanced at the late-model red Audi convertible in the driveway. He had no idea if that was her car or if she lived alone.
“Are you looking for Sabrina?” inquired a scratchy male voice.
He turned to see an elderly couple. The tall man in jeans and a white shirt leaned lightly on a cane. The woman similarly dressed stood close beside him with a four-foot section of a broom handle clutched in her right hand. “Yes.”
The man studied Cade closely. “Why do you want to see Sabrina?”
“We work together. I’m Dr. Mathis.”
“You have any proof?” the woman asked.
Cade pulled out his wallet. They were right to be cautious. Opening his wallet, he showed them his driver’s license and a wallet-size replica of his medical degree.
Both peered at the identification a long time as Cade waited. He had several patients with visual problems who refused to wear their eyeglasses.
Lifting their heads, they smiled. “That’s her car, so she’s at home. She likes to swim in the evenings. The gate isn’t locked, but I keep telling her it should be.”
“Ms. Thomas likes to follow her own dictates,” Cade said.
“Most women do,” the man said, looking affectionately down at his wife with a smile.
“Nothing wrong with that,” the woman added. “Please tell Sabrina the Goldens said hello.”
“I will,” Cade assured them as the couple continued down the sidewalk. Turning, he went back up the walk and around the side of the house. As the woman had said, the gate of the eight-foot wooden fence was unlocked. The neighbors didn’t have to worry. Ms. Thomas struck him as a woman who could take care of herself, Cade thought.
Rounding the corner of the house, he stepped onto lush grass in a flower-filled backyard. To his right was an eight-foot stone fireplace with a cushioned group seating in front. He heard a splash, looked deeper into the yard. He saw the water rushing over a rock waterfall into an odd-shaped swimming pool close to the back fence. His eyes narrowed as Sabrina climbed out of the water.
His gaze slowly swept from the soft features of her face over the black two-piece swimsuit, then narrowed on seeing the skin-graft scars that resembled a faded patchwork of skin that ran from her left forearm, beneath her left breast to mid-thigh. He’d done a rotation in the burn unit in medical school. Gauging from the extensive scars and the smoothness of the skin grafts except beneath her left arm, she’d suffered third-degree burns at a very young age.
Unconsciously his mouth tightened at the thought of the pain she must have endured. Burn therapy had come a long way in the past fifteen to twenty years. But before that time she would have had to suffer the excruciating pain of dressing changes to help heal and debride the wounds without any anesthesia or medication to dull the pain.
She had suffered.
He now knew another reason she fought so hard for her patients. She knew what it was to rely on others for the best medical care, and be at their mercy when it wasn’t given.
&
nbsp; * * *
Sabrina climbed out of the pool, a daily ritual to keep the mobility in her left arm, and reached for the towel she’d tossed on the chaise, and froze. Her head jerked up. Dr. Mathis was the last person she expected to see, even if she had been thinking about him since she left the hospital.
Mrs. Ward had called Sabrina to tell her she’d spoken with him. She’d said he was as abrupt as usual, but he also sounded concerned that she wasn’t feeling well. She and her husband had decided, if they had to choose between bedside manners and skill, they’d choose skill. They—
Her thoughts slammed to a halt as she remembered the burn scars. She reached for the towel. Her fingers clutched the soft material, but something inside her refused to hide behind it. So let him be disgusted like Howard in high school when he’d come over unannounced and saw her in a halter top and shorts. That had put an end to their dating.
She hadn’t even thought of dating again until she was a freshman in college. Again disaster struck when Kent saw the scars on her arm when her knit sleeve rode up. She hadn’t tried dating again.
Her chin jutted the tiniest bit. Let him get a good look. His reaction would put an end to those crazy thoughts she was having about him.
Yet as seconds passed, his expression remained unchanged. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his tailored slacks, his direct gaze on her, and remained silent. She waited for his gaze to flicker over the scars she’d carried since her mother, high on meth, spilled boiling water on her. Nothing. His expression remained impersonal. For some odd reason, that annoyed her.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped.
“I rang the doorbell and no one answered,” he said by way of explanation.
“That didn’t give you the right to enter private property.”
“The Goldens said I should. They said to tell you hello.”
She didn’t doubt him. She and Kara were the only single women in their neighborhood association. A few of the older couples had made it no secret that they’d like to see them married.
