Unexpected Daughter. Suzanne Cox
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the silvery water of the creek rippled beyond the edges of the white sand banks. Cade Wheeler leaned against the kitchen counter as he set his glass in the sink. A ham sandwich and iced tea were the extent of his lunch—not exactly like dining at one of his many lunch haunts in Dallas. But he definitely wasn’t in Dallas now. When he’d first begun working at the busy family practice in the city, life had been idyllic. Or at least that was what his mother kept telling him. His clients had been the wealthy and often self-absorbed. When he wasn’t seeing them in his office, he tried to avoid them. Occasionally, when his mother insisted, he’d attend the same functions as they did on the weekends—extravagant parties or golf outings. Life had taken on a surreal facade as he worked diligently to build his image as family physician to the upper crust. It should’ve been easy, should’ve felt right—after all, he’d been part of the upper crust his whole life.
From his office window in Dallas he’d had a view of the designer shopping village across the street, and he’d occasionally wondered if somewhere along the way he’d made a career mistake, perhaps even a life mistake. He had. He should never have imagined he could work there when his heart wasn’t in it. One ugly incident at the clinic had exposed the truth about who his friends really were. Most of his colleagues had turned their backs on him when he’d needed their support. Even his mother had been damaged in the fallout. He might not have agreed with her ideals, but he’d never wanted to see her treated badly. Their idyllic life had been forever changed. Where exactly that change would take them remained to be seen.
Empty boxes surrounded him. The wood floors in the kitchen glowed with a new unscuffed coat of varnish. Cade recalled the owner’s reluctance to rent the expensively renovated old home. The man had been hoping to sell the place, but after a year on the market and not even one offer, he’d finally acquiesced to the inevitable. A little money each month was better than none.
“It’s too much house for you,” his mother had griped when she’d seen it, for the five minutes she visited. He gazed across the yard once again. Sure, the rambling two-story contained more rooms than he’d ever use, but the huge master suite with its luxury bathroom had been like an oasis in the desert of this town. The final draw had been the very scene in front of him. Nowhere in Dallas did you get a house or apartment with a view like this from your kitchen window. Willow trees bent toward the gurgling water of the creek, surrounded by grainy sand. Green grass dotted with oak, hickory and pine trees took up the space in between the water and his house. He’d signed a lease for six months; after that he’d leave Cypress Landing and open his own clinic in Dallas. It was the only life he really knew and he’d promised his father just before he died to make sure his mother’s life remained as unchanged as possible, which meant Cade needed to be in Dallas, where his mother was happiest. For now, he’d enjoy the view.
A tree limb flopped at the edge of his yard and he thought he saw something moving near the water. An object appeared to fly through the air and land with hardly a splash in the middle of the stream. It was a fishing cork. Another soon appeared a few feet away from the first. Trespassers already. Whoever had tossed the cork in the water might not know the house was occupied now. The idea of a couple of old men shouting, drinking beer and generally interrupting his quiet afternoons on the patio made him decide to go down there to make sure the fishermen knew he had taken up residence.
Cade let the screen door slam behind him intentionally, but neither cork moved. Still invisible behind the edge of the trees, the fishermen either hadn’t heard him or just didn’t care. People had different ideas about property and propriety. If they wanted to call him an ass from the city for asking them to leave, that would be okay.
You don’t belong in that town. Never will. His mother’s words from years ago echoed in his ears. But that wasn’t true. He had fit in and would have gladly stayed forever. That was before he’d learned that even simple country people had hidden agendas. Coming back now had been a matter of obligation, a show of respect for his uncle and nothing else. Starting his own clinic in Dallas wouldn’t be easy, but at least he knew what to expect from the people there.
Cade nearly walked on top of the fisherman before he realized it. One lone fisherman with two homemade cane poles—or should he say fisherwoman…or fisher-girl. Ragged, cut-off blue-jean shorts revealed a pair of spindly legs connected to dirty bare feet. Muddy tennis shoes sat beside the trespasser. The girl pulled at her blond ponytail, then wiped a gritty hand across her forehead.
“Hi. You’re the guy that’s renting that house.”
“How do you know that?” His eyes narrowed. Was she psychic? And weren’t kids taught not to talk to strangers?
“I was in the car yesterday when my babysitter, Norma, brought you that cake. You’re a doctor and you work at Doctor Wheeler’s clinic. She said you were a nice young man, so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I fished at your house.”
What was he supposed to say to that? If he sent her packing, would she go and tell the whole town what a mean guy the new doctor was? Finally, he sighed and stuck out his hand. “I’m Cade Wheeler. You seem to know everything else about me.”
She giggled as she laid the poles on the ground and scrambled to her feet, placing her damp, grimy hand in his. Huge green eyes fringed with thick lashes studied him briefly before she sat down again.
“Wanna fish? I got two poles.”
The moment had arrived when he could let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t want people fishing in his yard. What if she fell in the water, drowned and the parents decided to sue him? Or worse, what if someone came along and suspected he was some kind of child molester, hanging out with a young girl he didn’t even know. He knew what he’d do in the city: run back to the safety of his house. But the country was different. People knew their neighbors and took care of each other and their kids. Overhead, the sun fought its way through the leaves and flickered in the emerald eyes shining up at him. Well, hell, he couldn’t resist that, could he? He couldn’t be mean to the kid.
He sat on the bank and held out his hand. She grinned, passing him the extra pole. “I’ll fish with you for a minute, but then we probably need to let whoever’s in charge of you know where you are.”
She nodded. “I’m Dylan. That’s a big ole house just for you, or do you have some kids coming later?”
“No, it’s only me.” The girl sighed and he hated having to dash her hopes of future playmates. “You live around here, Dylan?”
“Not too close. A few miles that way on the other side of the road.” She waved her hand in the general direction. “I stay with Mrs. Norma during the day when my mom works. Mrs. Norma lives right there.”
She pointed up the creek to a clearing a few hundred yards away, where the creek disappeared around a bend. The frame house had probably once been part of the same property as the house he now rented. But over time, as with many things around here, the property had likely been sold for cash.
“Your mom and dad work in Cypress Landing?”
She didn’t reply immediately, watching him instead, as though trying to deciding how much information she should give a stranger. He wondered how old she might be. He’d seen kids in his clinic but guessing their ages hadn’t been one of his strong points. This one could be anywhere between eight and thirteen.
“My mom works in town.” She didn’t supply more, but gripped her pole when she noticed that her cork had disappeared. Pulling her line in with no fish attached, she dug into a plastic cup sitting next to her, producing a soggy piece of liver to put on her empty hook. “Mrs. Norma keeps this for me in the freezer for bait.”
“She doesn’t care if you’re fishing here by yourself?”
“I probably shouldn’t go this far, but there aren’t any fish behind her house. I can swim and this creek isn’t more than waist-deep. Besides, she’ll come look for me in a few minutes.”
As if on cue, a figure appeared at the clearing. Dylan waved and the woman moved out of sight.
“She’s probably coming.”
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