To Catch A Thief

“Sure.”

Carolina would apply for the waitress and bartending positions listed on Tybee Island. She pulled out the tea a nurse recommended for Mamá’s headaches, making two mugs. She’d had a headache since she’d added up Mamá’s bills.

“Shall we take this to the porch?” she asked.

Her mother stared at the job posting on Carolina’s laptop, her nails clicking against the wooden table. “Maybe. Maybe.”

Carolina headed to the porch, wishing she’d shut the computer before she’d fixed her mother’s tea. Even talking about the Fitzgeralds made her mother rant.

“I was thinking we could have fish tacos tonight.” Carolina pushed open the door.

Her mother stared at the screen.

“Mamá?”

Her mother’s head jerked. “What?”

“I thought we’d have our tea out on the porch.”

Her mother’s eyes didn’t focus as she walked outside. She sat in a chair and Carolina took the rocker.

“I think you should do it,” Mamá blurted out.

“Do what?”

“Apply for the job with the bitches.”

Carolina choked on her tea. “I don’t want to meet them.”

Her half sisters wallowed in wealth while she and Mamá struggled to survive.

Her mother’s dark eyebrows came together. “I want to know what they’re up to. I want you to see the birthright they kept from you.”

Carolina clenched her fists. “I don’t.”

Her mother bounced out of her chair. “You could be a...a spy.”

Was this her mother’s obsession with the Fitzgeralds talking or her brain tumors? Every muscle in Carolina’s body tensed. “I don’t want to spy.”

“It would be for me. For your mother.” She clasped her hands against her chest and swayed. “For all the things I couldn’t give you. You deserve this. We deserve this.”

“Mamá, sit.” Carolina eased her back into a chair. “I need a job closer to home.”

Maybe if Carolina never brought up the job again, her mother would forget.

Please let Mamá forget.

* * *

“MOM, I’LL BE all right.” Sage said for the tenth time that morning. He sat at the kitchen table and sipped his coffee. He sure would miss Mom’s coffee, but he hated having her hover.

“You’re still as rocky on your feet as a newborn calf.” She brushed back his hair. “I wish Jackson could have stayed longer.”

Sage didn’t. Jax had stayed for three days, his presence a constant reminder Sage had screwed up. Not that Jax or Mom ever said anything. It was their looks of concern and disappointment. He’d failed to live up to the Cornell image. Honor before everything. “Jackson had to get back to saving lives.”

Mom crossed her arms, staring down at him. “Your head still aches.”

“I’ll handle it. You’ve been here a week. Go home to the ranch.” He wanted quiet. He hadn’t had true peace since he’d awakened in the hospital.

He liked people, he really did, but he needed space. And he wanted to get back to work. “I’m okay. Besides, the ranch needs you.”

“Uncle Dale is running the ranch.” His mother frowned.

“He’s almost eighty.”

“And sharp as a tack.” She pointed a finger at him. “Managing the ranch makes him feel useful.”

“I’ll be fine.” Another headache brewed, but he couldn’t tell his mom. She’d cancel her flight and stay another week. His River Street warehouse condominium was too small for the two of them.

“Then you’d better answer my calls. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be back.” His mother softened the order with a kiss on his cheek. “I worry about my baby.”

“I’m twenty-nine.” He grinned. “I don’t need burping.”

“Ha ha.” She sat next to him and squeezed his hand. “I worry about all my boys.”

“Why would you need to worry about Jax and Bart?” They were heroes.

“Because they’re my sons.”

“But every breath they take honors Dad.”

Mom closed her eyes and shook her head. “I know you idolize your brothers and father, but...they’re still mortal.”

Cornell men were supposed to be more. Sage needed to live a life so heroic, his father and brothers would be proud of him. It was all he wanted in life. “You raised two very special men.”

“Three.” She cupped his cheek and stared him in the eyes.

He tried not to blink, not wanting her to examine his soul.

He was the weakest Cornell. Would his father have let a dog keep him from his mission? Would his brothers have ended up wounded, suffering massive headaches and dizzy spells?

No. Because that wasn’t the Cornell way.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

“If you have problems, you’ll call?” his mother asked.

He made a cross over his heart. “Absolutely.”