egocentric. âNo, but youâre a hell of a doctor. You fight for your patients, you just donât always fight with them.â
âI donât have time to pamper them like you do,â he said. âMrs. Ward is a prime example. Letting her postpone the surgery without pointing out the risk would have been negligent of me.â
Sabrina thought of pointing out that he hadnât had to scare her, but then perhaps he had. âDr. Mathis, you have your ways and I have mine. Iâll promise to try and see your point, if youâll agree to try to see mine.â
âThereâll be no more confrontations?â he asked, staring intently at her.
âIâll do my best,â she told him.
He didnât like the answer. She could see it in his clenched jaw. She smiled inwardly. Who would have thought it, that she was the one person Cade Mathis couldnât ignore.
âI donât want to have this conversation again,â he said.
She tossed the towel on the chaise and folded her arms. âI wouldnât bet on it, but just remember, weâre on the same side.â
âGood-bye, Ms. Thomas.â He turned.
âSabrina.â
He glanced around at her. His expression was stoic.
At that moment, she decided that sheâd see him smile. âSince weâre going to have a better working relationship we shouldnât be so formal, donât you think?â
âSomething tells me it doesnât matter what I think,â he said, and kept walking.
Sabrina smiled, then laughed. âYou might be right.â
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
âDid she pay you for the painting?â
Kara signed inwardly, and fought to be patient with her mother, but it was becoming more and more difficult. Nothing Kara did pleased her, but at least she hadnât started in on her the moment she got home. âIt was a gift, Mama. Sabrina is a friend.â
Her mother, sitting at the small table in the kitchen, tsked and punctuated the remark with a thump of her cane on the tile floor. âIf she was a true friend, she wouldnât take advantage of you.â
Her back to her mother, Kara continued stirring the shrimp in the skillet. Reasoning with her mother had always been challenging. Since the death of her father eighteen months ago, it had become impossible. Hazel Simmons had been pampered and sheltered by her husband of thirty years, her every wish granted. She was angry that he had been taken away from her, angry that she had to do with less since his death. In return she made life miserable for everyone around her.
âSheâs coming over for dinner in a bit,â Kara said, steeling herself for the disapproval.
She didnât have long to wait. âShrimp is expensive.â
âMama, we arenât so bad off that we canât invite a friend over for a meal.â Kara set the sizzling shrimp aside and faced her mother. âI enjoy cooking and having friends over.â
âThen invite Burt.â
Kara shoved her hand through her hair. Her romance with Burt Collins, an internist at Texas, had lasted only three weeks. âBurt doesnât want to be here any more than I want him here.â
Her mother pushed herself up on her cane. âHe would be if you werenât so hard on him. You could take him back, and we wouldnât have to watch every dime.â
Money. It always boiled down to money. Their father had worked hard, but he hadnât saved very much. The money from his life insurance policy had barely paid for his medical and funeral expenses. Near the end of his lengthy illness, he had worried about his wife more than himself. Kara had assured him sheâd take care of her mother. Sheâd known it wasnât going to be easy when she moved back in, but she hadnât realized how demanding it would be.
âMen are entitled to sow a few wild oats before they get married,â her mother said. âTake him
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley