He felt the blood draining from his face. “I won’t be treated like a child or a woman!”
“Then cooperate.”
“Why are you being so pushy today? You said yourself yesterday—or whatever day it was—that I need more time.”
“I might feel that way, but you know Ezio. He says to bring you downstairs because he wants you to meet someone, and he said if you don’t cooperate with me, he’ll handle it. You and I both know Ezio isn’t going to accept that you don’t want to get into your chair. He won’t even give you the chance to complain, especially since he told me to bring Dean with me. I told him you wouldn’t fight me.”
Cason grumbled some more. He knew what she was saying was true about Ezio. “Why didn’t he send—” He stopped cold, and guilt washed over him as it always did. Following that was despair. This was his life. It was his fault that his bodyguard was killed in the accident.
“Fine, I’ll go.” He struggled to lift himself into the chair when she brought it over and required her help. Where had his upper body strength gone in such a short time? Plus it wasn’t that easy to judge distance and positioning with one eye functioning. Because he didn’t do anything day in and day out, he hadn’t adjusted.
Shakarri panted when they were done, and Cason used the controls on the battery-powered wheelchair to maneuver out of the room. He crushed his leg against the doorframe, and Shakarri cried out.
“Be careful.” She bent to rub his leg. “That must have hurt.”
“Leave it,” he growled. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Cason…”
“I’m out of the room. You should be happy!” He dealt with a lot of pain in his life, more than he ever thought he’d have to endure, and she felt sorry for him about a little thing like smashing his useless leg. “Where’s the stupid elevator?”
For a moment, he thought he saw hurt in her eyes, but it disappeared, and she smiled. “This way.”
Shakarri led the way to the end of the hall, and Cason took the opportunity to watch her hips sway. He figured he wouldn’t get a woman again, so he could just look. Shakarri was beautiful, but so was Romy’s woman. He never thought the house would be so full with so much family. Maybe Romy and Sonya would get married eventually and have more kids. Thinking about their happiness sank him into further darkness, so he dismissed his thoughts.
Once they were on the first floor, Shakarri led him to the back of the mansion, outside of which was the main garden. He hoped none of the family was out there to annoy him—especially the kids. They had too much energy and were too happy.
Fresh warm air touched his face at the same time he spotted his older brother and a woman sitting at a table on the lawn. Clara, the housekeeper, served them coffee and refreshments. Cason frowned. Surely, his brother didn’t plan on trying to set him up with a black woman? That was just getting ridiculous. He and Romy’s women were black, but that didn’t mean Cason had to keep the trend going. Besides, what woman would want half a man as he was?
Cason drew closer and felt better. This woman was mousy and small, not as small as Sonya, but still nothing to look at. He wasn’t sure if there was a shape beneath the loose-fitting clothes, and the color and style were drab. Looking into her round face with short-cropped hair framing it didn’t stir anything in him either. Maybe some might like the big almond eyes that spoke of innocence and a lifetime of hard living at the same time. He didn’t know how that could happen. Either way, she was nothing to stir his interest, so he dismissed her and concentrated on the coffee Clara placed in front of him.
“Cason,” Ezio said, “this is Solette Turner, your new full time nurse.”
Cason choked on his coffee. “What? I don’t need a nurse! I—”
“She’ll take care of your every need, and because she is also skilled in physical therapy, she’ll oversee that as well. If she has a problem with any part of your recovery process—or if you give her a hard time—she’ll let me know, and I’ll deal with it.”
Cason slammed his cup down and spilled the contents. Solette, the mouse, jumped and clutched her purse tight in her lap. Clara sprang forward to mop up the mess. “I don’t need a nurse. I’m fine, and Shakarri brings me my food. That’s enough.”
Ezio’s brows crashed low over his eyes. “Oh? You’re under the impression that my wife is on staff to serve you? You forget that she has my son and daughter to take care of as well as making herself available to spend time with me.”
Cason tried snapping his fingers but failed. Nerves in his right hand were damaged, and he’d had to learn to use his left. The most he could do with it so far was hold a cup. “That’s right. What was I thinking? She’s your servant.”
His brother’s eyes held a dangerous glint, and Cason almost hoped he’d try something. Not that he thought he could take Ezio, neither in this state nor before his accident. He’d always handled his older brothers with words.
“Solette will take care of you. End of discussion. If you don’t like it, you can sulk in your room and starve to death. Shakarri has been forbidden to bring you anything from here on.” Ezio stood. “I’ll leave you two here to get acquainted and work out her schedule. Shakarri, let’s go.”
Shakarri hesitated. “Wait, Ezio. Are you sure about this? She doesn’t look… I mean…”
He wrapped an arm about his wife’s shoulders and compelled her toward the house. Cason ran a hand over his head and sighed. He gazed at the woman on the opposite side of the table who hadn’t spoken at all since he met her. “And there you have the Sartoris. Don’t put your resume away too soon.”
Big caramel eyes met his, and he was startled for a minute.
“I’ll do what I was hired to do, Mr. Sartori. I promise you.”
He looked away from her toward the wildflowers. None of the detail met his gaze, but he made out the purples and blues and yellows and greens. “No one calls me mister.”
“I-I couldn’t…”
“I could fire you.”
He looked at her in time to see her raise her chin just a hair. “You can’t. The first rule Mr. Ezio gave me was that you don’t have the authority to fire me. Only he does.”
Cason swore. He checked on her to see if she was offended, a soft thing like her. She didn’t react at all. “What are the other rules?”
“I’m to make sure you attend every meal your family eats together and make sure you leave your bedroom for at least two hours every single day.”
“You work seven days a week?” He shrugged. “Sounds like you’re not smart enough to be my nurse.”
No reaction.
“Every single day I’m here.” She stood and placed her purse on the table then moved around to take a seat closer to him. “Mr. Cason, I’ve seen people in your position many times before, and the ones that were assigned to me I’ve helped to live better lives than they could have imagined. I’m sure I can help you too.”
He scoffed. “I hope your bonus doesn’t depend on it. If you think I’m going to get a better attitude forget it. I’ve lost everything, and I don’t have anything left.”
“What have you lost?”
He gaped at her, surprised she could even ask, and he gestured to his legs. “I can’t walk. I’m blind in one eye. I have more lines on my body than a map, scars left over from the accident and from the surgeries. You name it.”
“You have a family that loves you. You’re still rich. Every medical bill is paid, and you live here in this beautiful place. All you’ve mentioned are physical things.”
“So have you,” he snapped back.
“Love,” she repeated.
He waved a hand. “Is one of the rules that you can smart off to me?”
To his surprise, she appeared fearful, but then her countenance cleared. “No, I apologize. What I want you to understand is it doesn’t matter how hard it is, I’ll be here with you, and we’ll get you to a good place.” She allowed a tiny smile to touch full lips and took his breath away. “Your bonus is you can cu
ss like a sailor. It won’t bother me at all. So, why don’t we get started?”
Cason started to think his brother was far cleverer than he realized, and he was in for a load of trouble from here on.
Chapter 3
Solette squeezed the steering wheel of her old clunker and let out a heavy breath. She glanced over at her son. “Okay, Joe, baby, just keep your head down when we go in. Don’t call attention to yourself. Hopefully, no one will notice you, but if they do, don’t say anything. Act like you belong.”
Her son groaned. “Mom, call me Joseph. It sounds more dignified.”
“You’re twelve. There’s nothing to be dignified about. Boy, don’t give me lip. Just do what I asked. Please?”
He looked up at the mansion, his brown eyes full of curiosity. “I can’t make any promises. This place is amazing. You think they have a library?”
“Don’t even think about wandering around. You stick by me. I mean it. We need this job. The pay is… Never mind. It’s a great opportunity, so keep it on the down low.”
She climbed out of the car, and Joseph came around to her side to stand next to her. He was small for his age, the top of his head coming only to her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Mom.” He patted his narrow chest. “Everybody loves me. You’ll see. I might even get you a raise, and you can thank me with a gift certificate.”
She eyed him with her lips pursed. “I don’t know where you get your confidence, but I’m not kidding, Joe. No nonsense, and definitely no endless questions.”
Solette lied when she said she didn’t know where Joseph got his confidence. His whole attitude came from his dad, always wanting to be the center of attention, always wanting to be seen and heard. On a kid, it was ridiculous but funny in some ways. With Joe, Sr., she often wanted to yell at him to shut up. He embarrassed her sometimes, throwing out half-truths and outright lies as if he was the leading authority on any subject.
At least Joseph didn’t do that. He read a lot but usually just his favorite subject—history. His grades were average overall, but she liked to think he hadn’t reached his full potential yet. He was her baby, and she loved him dearly, even when he reminded her of his dad.
They strode into the mansion, using the front door. That first day, Solette had asked about a servant’s entrance and was told it wasn’t necessary. She had liked the Sartoris right from the start because of it—even Cason. When her patient came to mind, her thoughts shuddered to a halt.
Above her, on the second floor landing, Cason rolled into view. The fact that he was out of his room shocked her. The presence of the man himself shook her in a different way.
“I’m out,” he growled in his usual griping tone. His gaze slid to Joseph. “Who’s he, and why is he here?”
She should have known better. Cason appeared to be absorbed by his own misery and pain, but he never missed anything. She had learned that over the last two weeks since she started working with him.
Solette stepped closer to her son and wrapped an arm about his shoulders. She took in the man at the top of the stairs, and while he was too far to see exact detail, she knew his features well. An angry red scar ran down one side of Cason’s face and disappeared beneath his shirt collar. The nerves were too damaged at the moment for doctors to do surgery, and the hope was that over the next few months, maybe a year, they would heal enough that plastic surgery wouldn’t do more harm than good. The same went for his right eye, but the prognosis for replacing the cornea was good.
After working a little with Cason, Solette felt good about strengthening his right hand to be of use to him again and especially working on his legs. That is, if she could get him over the hump of feeling sorry for himself. She was used to belligerent patients who weren’t sure they wanted what she was offering—healing.
“This is my son, Joseph Junior. I’m sorry I had to bring him today, but I promise he won’t be any trouble.”
Cason frowned. “Shouldn’t he be in school?”
“They have a professional development day.” For a moment she felt defensive, but then the emotions rolled away. “I’ll take him into the kitchen, and he can work on homework there.”
She moved out of Cason’s sight quickly, and she and Joseph ducked into the kitchen. Her son ignored the chair she pulled out and the older woman standing at the stove. He frowned at her. “Mom, he was mean. I don’t know if we should keep this job.”
She pushed him toward the chair. “Sit down. At what point did my job become our job? I’m not quitting. You’re going to behave yourself. This position is paying better than I’ve ever gotten before.”
He sank slowly into the chair. “But he seems like Dad.”
“Cason probably…isn’t like your dad.” Guilt rolled through her as it usually did because Joseph shouldn’t even know that his dad often got physical with her. He should just happily experience life, innocent of the insecurities.
“Probably?”
“Hush up, Joe. I have to get started. Buzz my phone if you need me. Don’t come upstairs. Cason is a little touchy.” She turned to the housekeeper. “Miss Clara. How are you? Is Mr. Cason’s snack ready?”
Soon Solette carried Cason’s snacks into his room and sat them on the side table. She moved about opening the bag of chips and cutting the apple. Then she opened his soda and poured it over the glass of ice. Solette wasn’t a fan of the snack choices, and she had said so to Clara. That resulted in the apple. She needed to take a firmer hand on Cason’s meals.
The wheelchair squeaked behind her, and she felt Cason’s gaze on her. Muscles in her back tensed, but she did her best to stay relaxed. After a few minutes, he spoke. “You’re too young for a boy that big. Is he adopted?” No beating around the bush for him.
“He’s mine.”
Cason grumbled. “How old are you?”
She smiled with her back to him. “Twenty-seven.”
“And the boy?”
“His name is Joseph, or you can call him Joe, but he hates that.”
“How old is Joseph?”
She turned and straightened. “Mr. Cason, your snack is ready. Do you want me to get someone to help you to the chair? I admit I was surprised to see you in the hall, but I’m proud of you. I knew you could enjoy yourself more if you just gave it a try.”
He maneuvered the wheelchair in front of her and pinned her in place with the backs of her legs against his armchair. Her heartbeat kicked up a few notches, and she clenched her hands together behind her. An angry blue eye narrowed on her.
“You’re scared. Why should you be afraid?” His tone was flat, not even hinting at curiosity. Rather he simply made the observation.
Solette rushed to cover herself in case he asked questions she really didn’t want to answer. “Joseph is twelve, and yes, I had him young. I was foolish, but I’m doing the best I can to raise him right. Would you like this snack here or outside?”
For a minute, she thought he would press, but he let the matter drop. “I’m sick of this stupid chair! Ezio dumped me in it hours ago and left. I came into the hall to see if you were here yet. Now get someone to get me out of it. Goro went to run errands, but one of the bodyguards might be around.”
He rolled away from her, and she smiled. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Cason. I know just the thing. We’ll get you all set up outside in the sunshine in a nice comfy chair.”
“I don’t want to go outside.”
“Now, now. Don’t be a baby. I’ll even play you some music.”
“Are you implying I’m a beast to be soothed?”
“A beast? Never.” She laughed, and he stared at her.
“You’re almost pretty when you smile.”
She cleared her throat. “I’ll see if there’s anyone around before we go down.”
He grabbed her hand, and she froze. Their gazes met, and something new passed over Solette that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She almost didn’t recognize it. Cason’s hand was soft but firm at the same time. His gr
ip, not as strong as it should be for a man of his size, was still solid. If he didn’t have to suffer so much pain, she was sure she could never take him in a battle of strength. And yet, it wasn’t fear that she felt. It was desire.
A man like him would never…
“Let me go, Mr. Cason.” She spoke calmly.
“Cason,” he demanded. “Say it once. Just call me Cason.”
“We need to get you moving so you can be ready for your exercise in an hour or so.”
He bared straight white teeth, winced, and then frowned. “I should call you Bunny. You’re like a frightened little rabbit, always skittering away from me. Shall I capture you and eat you up?”
She strode to the door. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Cason.”
“No, not bunny. Mouse.”
She kept moving and shut the door. Something smashed against it a second later. Sonya, Romy’s girlfriend, met her in the hall. “He’s throwing a temper tantrum again? Don’t let him get to you, Solette. He likes to provoke people with his filthy mouth.”
“Don’t worry. Mr. Cason has never cursed at me. Well, not directly at me.”
Sonya rolled her eyes. “That’s because you’re sweet. We get into it sometimes, and I told him as soon he’s up and walking I’m going to clip him so he falls on his stupid face.”
Solette gasped. “You didn’t?”
“I did. You have to know how to deal with his ego. Trust me, that thing will take over the house unless you beat it down.”
“Um, okay.”
Sonya burst out laughing. “Never mind. You just keep doing your thing. I’m sure you know better. I don’t like Cason’s personality all that much, but even I don’t wish him to suffer like he’s been doing. Help him for the family’s sake, Solette. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course. I’ll do everything in my power.”
“That’s all we ask.” She patted Solette’s shoulder and wandered off. Solette watched her disappear around the corner and pondered not for the first time about the Sartori family. They were close, even Sonya who wasn’t technically a part of the family. They loved honestly and fought the same. She knew all the Sartoris were rooting for her to get Cason well.
Reaching His Heart: The Sartoris Book Three Page 2
