Searching for Cate Read online

  “I guess that’s all we can do,” she added quietly.

  Shoving her hands deep into her pockets, Cate watched him for a long moment as he attended to the girl. Common sense said leave well enough alone, but then, she’d never been a great one for common sense. Deciding she had nothing to lose, and maybe even something to gain, she finally asked, “Were the roses from you?”

  Christian looked up from the chart and she couldn’t tell if he knew what she was talking about or not. Now he had a poker face, she thought. “I received a dozen long-stemmed roses on Saturday. When I got back from the office, they were on my doorstep. No card, except for the one the florist always includes, telling you how to care for the flowers.” A half smile played on her lips. “I suppose I could have the box dusted for fingerprints, but that won’t help if they were delivered by messenger.”

  His eyes met hers. Damn, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. So much for that bit about eyes being the windows to the soul. Unless his soul had moved.

  “They were from me.”

  “Why?”

  He never flinched. “Why not?”

  She wasn’t about to back away. “Answer my question first.”

  He gave a half shrug, returning the chart back to the hook at the foot of the bed again. “It seemed like the thing to do.”

  Maybe to him, but not to her. Not like that. “Without a card? I didn’t know if you were saying last night was great, or last night was a mistake, here’s a consolation prize. Nice knowing you.”

  He found that there was something immensely appealing about her when she began to get worked up. “Which did you want it to be?”

  She blew out a breath, curbing her exasperation. “God, you should work for the bureau. You bob and weave with the best of them.”

  He returned the compliment with an easy smile that found its way straight to her gut. She realized that her pulse hadn’t leveled off yet. On the contrary, it seemed to be elevating. No two ways about it, the man was bad for her. Bad for her concentration.

  “So do you.”

  Okay, so he was putting her on the spot, asking for her answer. Couldn’t say she hadn’t asked for this. Cate took a chance. “I guess I would have liked for it to be the former—” And then, afraid he might misunderstand—not completely sure she understood it all herself—she quickly added, “With no strings.”

  He played the moment out a little longer, just to see her reaction. “And if it’s the latter?”

  She raised her chin, her eyes narrowing just a touch. “Then I would have expected you to be man enough to tell me face-to-face, not hope I’d put two and two together and somehow get the message.”

  There was one more option. The one he’d been toying with originally. Because the one worried him and the other, well, he found himself not really wanting the other. “Maybe when I sent them, I wasn’t sure which it was.”

  Past tense. He was using past tense. Did that mean he knew his mind now? Knew how he wanted to proceed? Damn it, why couldn’t her pulse stop racing like this? “And now?”

  He turned his back to the patient, for now blocking out everything in the room except for the woman he was talking to. The woman he’d made love with. The woman who had stirred things up inside of him to the point that he wasn’t sure if he could find his way safely back again.

  Or even wanted to.

  “And now we take it one step at a time.” He watched her face as he told her, “I do know I want to see you again. Whether that’s wise—”

  “Why does it have to be wise?” Cate countered. She was not only asking him, but herself as well. She was playing devil’s advocate out loud. “Why can’t it just be?” The more she spoke, the more she knew that this was what she believed, what she wanted. “One step at a time, one moment at a time. If there’s anything I’ve learned in these past few years, it’s that the moment is all we have. Because the next moment could bring huge changes you wouldn’t believe.”

  He thought of Alma. How one moment he was a married man with a baby, the next, he was a widower grieving over the deaths of his wife and daughter.

  “I’d believe,” he said softly.

  She could tell he had a story. A story he wasn’t ready to tell. Lydia had merely hinted at it, saying that her brother-in-law was a widower. She supposed she could try getting more information out of Lydia, but it wouldn’t really count unless it came from him. Because if he confided in her, they would be establishing a basis of trust. A beachhead from which to build. He had to trust her enough to share his pain with her. And he didn’t yet.

  She thrived on challenge. “Someday you’re going to have to tell me about that.” And then she realized how that might have sounded. “Assuming there is a someday.”

  “Someday,” Christian repeated, for the moment leaving it at that.

  Lydia looked around at the people sitting at the table. Except for her mother, everyone she considered part of her family was here. And she had something to tell them.

  It burned on her tongue all through dinner. With every second that went by, she was having a harder and harder time containing her excitement. She always felt this way when things were finally taking on a positive shape.

  And things were very positive right now.

  The name Katya had said she’d overheard one of the other men use turned out to belong to someone presently working at the American embassy in the Ukraine. The hunt to bring down what amounted to a white-slavery prostitution ring had taken on international proportions that extended far up the food chain. It had taken some doing on her part, but after much haggling and opposition, A.D. Sullivan had finally agreed to send her to the Ukraine. Once there, she was going to bring back Brad Baker, a twenty-six-year veteran of the diplomatic corps with a spotless record and a nondescript life.

  “I guess he got tired of just being the reliable man in the shadows. Greed got the better of him,” Lydia said to the others, still refraining from saying that she was going after him.

  “The man should be boiled in oil,” Juanita commented in disgust as she leaned back in her chair. She sat at the head of the table, surrounded by Lukas, Lydia and John on one side and Henry, Christian and Cate on the other.

  It took effort on her part not to stare at the new face at her table. When she’d extended the thinly veiled mandate for her sons to come for dinner the following evening, declaring that it had been a while since they had both graced her table at the same time, she of course had meant that Lydia was to come, too. It hadn’t crossed her mind that Christian would bring anyone with him. He never did.

  So when he walked through the door with the young blonde behind him, she’d thought at first that it was Lydia. She had to admit that her daughter-in-law’s people did all look alike to her. But she quickly realized that this wasn’t her daughter-in-law, but someone new.

  Someone who had come with Christian.

  Lydia made the introductions, saying the woman, Cate Kowalski, was her partner, and for a moment, Juanita thought she’d made a mistake and a wave of disappointment had followed. Ever since Alma’s suicide, she’d been waiting for Christian to come around.

  But the moment she saw the way her younger son looked at the newcomer when he thought no one else saw, she knew she hadn’t made a mistake after all. It seemed that perhaps he was finally on his way. Her sharp eyes saw that there was more going on here than anyone wanted to say. Perhaps even more than either one of them was aware of.

  During the course of the dinner, she set about probing the situation with her subtle questions. Somewhere before the meal was over, she decided that she liked this young woman. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that Cate was the girl she’d dreamed about. The blond woman who would come to change her son’s life. The dreams she remembered were rarely wrong.

  Lukas knew how much this case meant to his wife. He nodded as she paused in her narrative. “Looks like it might finally be coming to a conclusion.”

  Lydia took a breath,
her eyes on Lukas’s face. This was what she’d been leading up to. “It definitely will be on that track as soon as I bring the bastard back in chains.”

  Lukas put down the glass he was raising to his lips. “You?” He frowned at the thought of her having to fly overseas. “Can’t they send anyone else?”

  “I don’t want them to send anyone else,” Lydia protested a little too heatedly. “This is my case, this is what I’ve been working toward.” She glanced toward her mother-in-law, confident that Juanita would understand. The strong-willed woman thought in terms of right and wrong, not male and female. Besides, the Navajo were a matriarchal society, which made Juanita an ally. “After all the time and legwork I’ve put into the case, I need this sense of closure. I need to bring down whoever’s responsible. I have to be the one who goes.”

  “No, you don’t,” Christian said firmly. “You know you can’t go.”

  All eyes at the table looked toward him.

  Henry shifted in his armchair. “Don’t you think you’re a little out of line, Chris?” he asked mildly. “If Luke isn’t against Lydia flying over there…”

  Christian saw the warning look that came into Lydia’s eyes. She was silently pleading with him. And he was torn. Torn between his oath as a doctor and his loyalty to his brother. Not to mention what he felt as a member of the family. To let her go, to have her risk not just her life but the life of the child she was carrying, he didn’t know if he could live with himself if anything happened to either one of them because of his silence.

  There was a time when rules had to be bent and consciences followed, even if that was not the most popular way to go. He looked at his brother first before turning toward his uncle. He did his best to shut out Lydia, knowing that to look at her would only cause him to falter.

  And he had to say this.

  “That’s because Lukas doesn’t know.”

  Chapter 31

  “Know what?” Lukas demanded, looking from his brother to his wife. He had absolutely no idea what to think, what could possibly be going on between his brother and Lydia, or what they had been keeping from him.

  The others were silent, waiting.

  Christian still wanted to leave the telling up to Lydia. News like this should come from a man’s wife, not his brother. He hated the position he was in. “Don’t you think it’s about time you told him?”

  “Told me what?” Lukas demanded again. He was on his feet now, his attention focused on his brother. “What the hell is going on here, Christian?”

  Christian rose to his feet as well, not wanting to be at a disadvantage. It wasn’t all that many years ago that they’d faced each other over raised fists in the boxing ring that Henry oversaw. Then it had been a healthy way to get rid of aggression. If this came to blows now, the results might not be so healthy.

  She’d never wanted it to come to this. And she’d never dreamed that she’d get Christian in trouble. Lydia got in between the two men. Facing her husband, she cried, “That I’m pregnant.”

  The news, something that ordinarily he would have greeted with bottomless joy, stunned him now. Lukas stared at her. “How long have you known?”

  “Not long.” Her voice was a great deal quieter than it had been a moment ago. “A month maybe.”

  “And you?” Lukas turned to his brother, no less amazed. “You knew, too?”

  He knew that tone, Christian thought. It was the calm before the storm. “Yes.”

  An angry cloud descended over Lukas’s features. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Juanita stood, afraid of where this could lead. Afraid of words that wouldn’t be able to be taken back.

  “Calm down,” she ordered both her sons. “I won’t have shouting in my home.”

  “Too late,” Henry commented more to himself than to her. Juanita shot him a dark look before turning back to Lukas and Christian.

  “This can be worked out,” she began. Lukas was slow to anger these days, but when he got mad, it was a fierce sight to see. And the path back was not always an easy one. “We’re family.”

  Lukas snorted at the words. “Well, maybe someone should have told him that.” He jerked a thumb at his brother.

  Because he could easily place himself in Lukas’s shoes, Christian kept his own temper and tried to explain what had happened. “Lydia came to me as a patient, Lukas. She asked me not to tell you. You know I can’t violate a trust.”

  Lukas clenched his hands at his sides to keep from striking out. He didn’t know who he was angrier at, his brother or his wife.

  “What about the trust between us?” he asked his brother. Thoroughly disgusted, he threw down his napkin and strode toward the door.

  Anxiety telegraphed through Lydia as she saw him opening the door. Walking out on her. “Where are you going?”

  “Back to where things make sense to me.” He grabbed his jacket off the coatrack and didn’t bother to put it on. “Bedford.”

  The slamming door punctuated his statement.

  Lydia raced after him, knowing they couldn’t just leave it this way. They had never, ever had an argument, much less one of this proportion. She knew she couldn’t just wait for him to cool off. She had to make him understand why she did what she did, and why she’d made Christian promise not to tell him first.

  “I’ll make him see it wasn’t your fault,” she promised Christian, then looked at Juanita just before she left. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, worry about Lukas,” Juanita advised.

  Without another word, Lydia hurried after her husband, the door closing behind her. The next moment, they heard the sound of a car starting up.

  Well, that had gone less than well, Christian thought in disgust. He glanced toward Cate. “That was our ride.”

  His mother gave him one of her looks, the kind that seemed to penetrate clear down to the bone. He congratulated himself for not flinching. “What’s the matter with you? You know better than to come between a man and his wife,” his mother said.

  He made no excuses, sticking only to the facts. “I urged her to tell him, but my hands were tied.”

  Juanita shook her head. There was a place for professional ethics, but this was about family and family always came first, no matter what. “There’s always wiggle room.”

  It was an argument not to be won, especially since his heart wasn’t entirely in it. So rather than try to back up his position, Christian merely nodded and then looked at Cate. “I’d better get you back.”

  She knew he thought she felt uncomfortable, but in an odd way, she wasn’t. She was witnessing the natural fallout between family members who cared about one another. It made her feel extremely nostalgic and wistful, but not uncomfortable.

  “How?” she asked. “The car just left.”

  “I can take you,” Henry volunteered. He was already moving his chair back. The legs scraped against the wooden floor. “Truck’s not much to look at,” he admitted, referring to his ’89 pickup, “but it can get you from here to there.”

  “That’s all we need, Uncle Henry,” Christian told him. After walking over to the coatrack, he got Cate’s coat off the peg, then took his jacket. He slipped it on quickly and held out Cate’s for her.

  She slid it on, very aware of his hands as they guided the jacket onto her shoulders.

  “Go after your brother,” Juanita urged him. “Make peace.” The expression in her eyes was somber. “You owe me that.”

  And he’d have no peace of his own until he achieved a truce, Christian thought. His mother would see to it. Like the dutiful son he was, he nodded and then kissed her cheek.

  Cate queued up to take her turn. “It was a very nice dinner.” About to shake the woman’s hand, she was surprised and pleased when Juanita embraced her instead.

  “Up to the entertainment portion of the evening,” John quipped, standing behind his adoptive mother.

  Juanita gave him the same kind of warning glance she’d given
Christian. It was obvious to Cate that the woman made no differentiation between the sons who were part of her flesh and the one she’d chosen to take to her heart.

  “It’ll be better next time,” Juanita told her at the door just before closing it.

  The woman’s words replayed themselves in Cate’s head as they followed Henry to the truck. She eyed at Christian. “Did I just get invited back?”

  Before Christian could reply, Henry looked at her over his shoulder. His many wrinkles melded into one another, arranging themselves around the smile that formed on his lips. “Sure sounded like that to me.”

  All in all, Cate thought, it had been one strange day. When she’d gotten up this morning, she never thought she’d be invited to meet Christian’s mother. Despite their last conversation in the hospital, she hadn’t even been sure that she would ever see Christian outside the hospital again.

  Even when he’d said that the invitation came at Lydia’s suggestion, it hadn’t diminished the magnitude of the gesture. Christian didn’t strike her as a man who did anything he didn’t want to.

  She watched him now as they drove away from John Wayne Airport, where they’d landed not half an hour ago. “So that was what was going on between you and Lydia.”

  At a light, Christian glanced in Cate’s direction. It was the first thing she’d actually said to him since they’d left his mother’s house. Henry had brought them to the small airstrip where he and Cate, Lydia and Lukas all boarded the same commuter plane back to Southern California. The silence before the engines started up had almost been deafening. But Christian had known better than to talk. Lukas had looked far too angry to approach, so they had all kept their distance as well as their peace.

  The rattle of the plane was the only sound that was heard the entire return flight.

  Cate didn’t envy Lydia right now. Lukas had every right to be angry. This was his baby as well as hers. A pregnancy wasn’t the kind of thing you kept from the man you loved, no matter what the job called for.