Unexpected Daughter

“Dylan doesn’t bother me, and I didn’t ask you to stay in the car so you could thank me.”

At last Cade could get his mind back on track to the most important question he’d ever ask.

“Right.” Brijette brushed a stray wisp of hair off her face. “Which patient did you want to discuss?”

“I don’t want to talk about a patient. I wanted to speak to you in private.”

She squirmed in her seat and he imagined she knew what was coming.

“I want you to tell me who in hell is the father of that child.”

Dear Reader,

Sometimes we all have secrets we want to keep and preconceived ideas that are hard to let go. In this story, Brijette Dupre has to deal with both. But she’ll learn that occasionally when the truth comes out and we let go of our preconceptions, life can be all the richer for it.

I hope you enjoy Brijette and Cade’s story as I revisit Cypress Landing, Louisiana, and their volunteer search and rescue team. I love to hear from readers. You can send me a note at Suzanne Cox, 107 Walter Payton Dr., # 271, Columbia, MS 39429 or by e-mail to [e-mail]. Be sure to visit me on the Web at suzannecoxbooks.com or superauthors.com.

Sincerely,

Suzanne Cox

Unexpected Daughter

Suzanne Cox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Suzanne remembers writing her first stories when she was about nine or ten years old, and she’s been writing ever since. In February of 2002 she decided to try to get her writing published. On February 14, 2005, she sold her first book, A Different Kind of Man, to the Harlequin Superromance line.

While trying to decide what she wanted to be when she grew up—besides a writer—she worked a variety of jobs. She has a bachelor of arts in English with a minor in secondary education, a bachelor of science in nursing and a master of science in career and technical education with an emphasis in adult education. She’s also a National Board Certified Teacher in career and technical education. Along the way she’s worked as a high school English teacher, an elementary school teacher, a registered nurse on a cardiac unit, brain injury rehab unit and several different medical-surgical units. She’s also done stints as a home health nurse and a community health educator at a hospital. These days, when she’s not writing, she’s at her day job as an allied health instructor at a high school career and technology center.

In her spare time, when she can find some, Suzanne enjoys reading, painting, biking and fishing. She’s presently “livin’ her dream” in south Mississippi with her own personal hero husband, Justin, and her boy in puppy dog clothes, Toby, who masquerades as a miniature pinscher.

To my husband, Justin, for being perfect

even when it’s hard, like when

I’ve misplaced my checkbook, again.

To my friends at CLCC—Jan, Steph, Lisa,

Cathy and the guys, who are more like family than

anything else.

To my in-laws for just keeping me in the family

amid all this insanity.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN the side of Brijette Dupre’s brow and a few loose strands of jet-black hair stuck to her damp chin. The ancient air conditioner in the other room did little good, especially in this heat. Brijette wiped her face with a paper towel as she counted sample packs of an antibiotic.

“He needs to take these three times a day with food and try to keep those stitches dry and clean. I’ll be here next Thursday all day and I’ll want to see that cut.”

The bony woman moved her head in agreement, her stringy hair falling into her eyes. She held on to the barefoot eight-year-old boy. Brijette made a last swipe with a sterile towel in an attempt to remove one more spot of dirt from the child’s skin. She wanted to tell the woman to take the kid home and give him a bath, or at least toss him in the creek. But you didn’t tell these people what to do or expect them to live by any other standards than the ones to which they were accustomed. She should know. She’d been one of them for the first seventeen years of her life.

Brijette helped the boy off the portable exam table and led mother and son to the door. The breath of cooler air made her wish she could leave the door open, but she couldn’t treat patients in front of the customers who came and went in the run-down store. Anton Guidreaux, who owned the place, had been good enough to let them use an empty storeroom attached to one side of his building as an exam room. As a nurse practitioner, Brijette worked under the license of the doctor in town. She normally practiced in the clinic with him, helping him see patients. But on Thursdays she came to the small community of Willow Point and offered medical care to those not likely to get it otherwise.

More than a few of the people in Cypress Landing wondered why she came here. They figured if those people wanted to see a doctor, they could come to town. Those people. Other folks in town made it sound as if she jetted off to another country every week. As though the simple people who still chose the life of the backwater and swamps were of a different species. This was Louisiana, not some Third World country. How would the woman who’d just left feel, sitting dirty with worn shoes in the pristine waiting room at the clinic in Cypress Landing? No, Brijette was doing what she had to, for them and for herself, or at least for the girl she used to be.

“Brij, I see trouble coming.”

Brijette left the storeroom, to see what Alicia was talking about. Alicia Ray was the nurse who assisted her at the weekly clinics in this rural community off the Mississippi River. Brijette joined her on the porch steps and unconsciously gripped the other nurse’s shoulder.

“Oh, no!” she whispered.

Ten feet away, a young girl staggered toward them with the help of a boy who looked as if he might faint or run at any minute. The girl struggled with her very large and very obviously pregnant stomach.

The two women jumped to the ground, grabbing the girl. With the young man’s help they managed to haul her into the exam room and hoist her up on the table, which was definitely not intended for delivering babies. Unfortunately, Brijette figured transforming the space into a delivery room wasn’t an option.

“Go see if you can fine a land-line phone—there’s no reception here on your cell. Call the clinic and have them get in touch with the helicopter rescue service. We’ll need it. Let them know what kind of situation we’ve got.”

Alicia hurried from the room and the boy followed her.

“You can stay if you want,” Brijette called to him, but he didn’t respond, shutting the door behind him instead.

“He’s scared,” the young girl on the table mumbled.

“What about you?”

She started to reply, then gritted her teeth and tossed her head from side to side in pain.

“What’s your name?” Brijette tried to hold the girl’s hand and dig into her supply box at the same time.

“Regina.” The word exploded on a whoosh of air from the girl’s mouth.

Brijette let go of Regina as the girl relaxed a bit, and moved to open another box. They didn’t stock delivery supplies. But unless the paramedics could materialize on the spot, she might have to deliver this baby with whatever equipment she could find.

“Yeah, I’m scared.”

Brijette glanced at the girl who watched her with wide, watery eyes. She’d almost forgotten she’d asked that question.

“Regina, have you seen a doctor during your pregnancy?”

The girl shook her head. Brijette didn’t bother to ask why not. At this point her lack of medical care couldn’t be helped. She piled the items she might need to use onto the tray by the table.

“How old are you?”

Regina stared at the wall, giving no answer.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen to you or your boyfriend if you tell me.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“And your boyfriend?”

“He’s twenty-two, but he’s my husband. We’ve been married more than a year.”

“That’s good.” Brijette tried not to sigh out loud. What else could she say? She thought of her own daughter, Dylan, who still hadn’t reached her teenage years. Kids occasionally had to grow up fast and, like herself, Regina seemed to be one of them.

“Do you have family—mother, father, grandmother—we need to contact?”

“No. My mama and daddy moved a year ago. I didn’t want to leave my boyfriend, so they let me stay and get married.”

Brijette heard sad stories nearly every time she came here. This was simply another one to add to the list. What kind of parent dumped their teenage daughter off on her boyfriend because she didn’t want to move? In the middle of searching for a box of gauze, she paused. How could she be thinking like that? She knew exactly what kind of parent would do such a thing, one less mouth to feed and no kid hanging around your neck. Without her grandmother, that could very well have been her about to have a baby with no family to help.

Brijette pulled more supplies from a box. “Is it time for the baby to come?”

Regina’s brows knitted into a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how many months have you been pregnant? Is this your ninth month or is this baby early?”

The girl fisted the sheet covering her and didn’t answer.

“Regina, I really need to know if I’m going to deliver a premature infant.”

“I think it’s eight or nine months. I’m not real sure.”

If they ended up with a two-pound preemie Brijette would really be in a mess. Her mind raced to the few times she’d had to help DocArthur with emergency deliveries at the small local hospital in Cypress Landing.

She heard the door open as she finished tying a sterile towel to the metal rods on the side of the table, fashioning stirrups as best she could. As Brijette finished preparing the supplies, Alicia entered the room with Regina’s husband behind her.

“T.J.” The girl reached toward the young man. He looked as if he might keel over.

Brijette smiled at him. “I’m glad you decided to come in.”

Alicia began to help Regina remove her clothes and put on the hospital gown Brijette had unearthed from the bottom of a box.

With the girl positioned on the table, she moved the sheet to check her. Brijette sucked her breath in between her teeth and Alicia looked to see what was wrong. The nurse gasped. Brijette reached for sterile cloths, piling them at the end of the table.

“What’s the matter?” the girl asked as she groaned with a contraction.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine,” Brijette responded, which was true in a sense. She couldn’t see a thing wrong and the vital signs Alicia called out were good. But there was no way to monitor the baby, who didn’t plan to wait for the paramedics. The top of the head was already visible.

“Regina, on the next contraction, I need you to bear down and push.”

“Is the baby coming now?” Regina started to cry. Alicia wiped the girl’s face with a moist cloth. The temperature in the room had soared and sweat rolled from the four of them.

“I’m sorry, Regina, but this baby is coming now and I need you to work with me.”

WHEN BRIJETTE COULD finally step away from the table, she sighed at the sight of her blood-stained scrubs. After throwing her gloves in the garbage, she dumped plenty of antiseptic gel in her palm, rubbing it lightly on her hands and arms before wiping with a paper towel. Not exactly prescribed usage for the stuff but the sink was in another part of the store and this would have to do for now.

There was a banging sound outside and loud voices broke the silence that had finally settled in the small room. With only a brief knock beforehand, two paramedics rushed in with a gurney.

They stopped short at the sight of the healthy baby.

“Guess you don’t need us after all, Brij.”

She snorted at Michael, the lanky medic. “Well, it wasn’t by choice, I promise. At least you can give Regina and her daughter a quick ride to the hospital. I didn’t even hear the chopper come in.”

“I’m not surprised.” He paused as he and his partner eased mother and child onto the gurney. Alicia helped roll the bed to the door, while Michael stayed behind. “The chopper’s across the river. We’ll have to go back to it by boat. That’s where the nearest clearing is.”

“I guess if the two of them have made it this far, they can survive a boat ride.”

He didn’t respond but glanced around the room instead. “So, this is your clinic.”

“Yep.” Brijette grinned, realizing that most of the medical people in town knew she came here, but few had actually seen her exam room.

Michael took a deep breath. “Stinks like a pigpen, and it’s hot as hell.”

If she hadn’t been friends with the guy for years she might have been offended. “Thanks a lot. We did just deliver a baby in here. Besides, we don’t all have the luxury of an air-conditioned ambulance or helicopter.”

“Relax, I didn’t say you stink, which of course you do.”

She laughed and threw the near-empty bottle of antiseptic gel at him. He caught it with a grin. “I better go before your nurse and my partner drop our patient on the stairs.”

Brijette followed him out front. From there she watched as Michael trotted down the dirt road after Alicia and the other paramedic, who were rolling the gurney toward a waiting boat. The breath she’d been partially holding since she’d seen the girl struggling to the clinic slipped from her lungs and she leaned against the wall of the store.

“Whoowee, chère. Never ’spected that when you set up shop here.”

Brijette turned to see Anton Guidreaux sitting in a rocking chair several feet away. She hadn’t noticed him before.

“Neither did I, A.G.” Brijette pushed sweat-soaked hair off her neck. Anton Guidreux was too formal a name for him, so it had been shortened to A.G. long before she remembered making the trek to this place to buy flour, sugar and whatever else her grandmother needed.

A.G. got up to go back inside and paused to pat the top of her head as if she were still five. “Glad you were here, girl. Don’t never think folks ain’t proud to have you. Might not say it, but you know how that is.”

Her head bumped the wall as she nodded. “I didn’t come here expecting thank-yous.”

“Know that, chère. Don’t mean I can’t tell you thanks here and there.”

She bobbed her head again, staring at the floor as A.G. left her standing alone. After one more deep breath she went back to the exam room. Fanning the door, she tried to encourage a bit of cool air to come inside. She wrinkled her nose. Michael hadn’t been joking. The scent of sweat and blood hung in the room, making it positively reek. And me, too, she admitted with a wry smile. Disinfectant spray bottles sat on top of a box and she took one, squeezing the trigger, shooting generous amounts on the exam table.

“Are we done for the day?”

Brijette continued cleaning the table as Alicia rejoined her. “Unless it’s an emergency, we’re going to pack and go home. I’m exhausted. Besides, it’s going to take an hour to clean up and get the supplies loaded on the boat.”

With a shove, Alicia moved a box against the wall and began to mop the floor. In minutes, they were both dripping sweat again.

BRIJETTE SET the last plastic storage container onto the deck of the twenty-eight-foot fishing boat. She could get to her field clinic by car, but it would take hours, beginning with a ferry ride across the river. Traveling by boat made more sense. Alicia untied the vessel from the old dock and Brijette started the engine.

As she steered the boat away, she caught a final glimpse of the wooden store on the slight rise above the water. Past the store sat the small community church with white paint peeling off the walls. A couple of wooden houses on stilts were visible in the distance. They were a ten-minute ride from the river and another ten minutes to Cypress Landing. A trip she knew well. She’d made it more times than she could count, and the summer after her senior year in high school she’d made it every day to work at the tire factory in Cypress Landing and, frequently, the coffee shop on Main Street. But that was another life.

The Mississippi loomed in front of them and Alicia grabbed a handhold as the boat lurched into the faster-moving water. Brijette slowed the engine.

“Can you believe what we did?” Alicia shouted above the hum of the motor.

Brijette stared at the river in front of her. The thought of all the things that could have gone wrong with the delivery hadn’t actually hit her until now. Her legs turned to jelly and she leaned against the seat behind her. She and Alicia had brought a life into the world. What would’ve happened if they hadn’t been there? What if the girl had delivered at home or in the back seat of a car? Or even worse, on the bottom of a rusty aluminum fishing boat as she tried to get to a hospital?

“I’m glad you were there with me,” she shouted back at Alicia. To her dismay, her throat clogged and her eyes filled with tears. Getting all weepy wasn’t her style, but she’d never delivered a baby by herself before.

A hand touched her arm. “Don’t worry, me, too.” Alicia pointed to her own cheeks, wet with tears, and started to smile. They were both laughing with tears trickling down their faces as the boat bumped toward Cypress Landing.

“I HEAR YOU HAD an adventure today.”

Brijette chuckled, stacking the last container in the storage room at the clinic. “It was more of a nightmare than an adventure, Emma.”

“Well, the baby and mama were both fine, so you must’ve done a great job.”

“Nature did the work, I just…caught the package.” She glanced at her soiled clothes and shook her head at the clinic’s longtime receptionist. “I need to go home and clean up.”

“Doc Arthur wants to see you before you go.”

“I’m on my way.”

Located a block off Main Street, the clinic was actually an antebellum home that Doc Arthur had refurbished to use as his business nearly thirty years ago when he’d first arrived in Cypress Landing. Brijette crossed the lobby and went down the hall to his office. Tapping on his half-open door twice, she pushed into the room.

“Emma said you wanted to see me.”

“Brijette, come in. Good work you did today.”

“Like I told Emma, I didn’t do much. The baby came without much help from me.” She didn’t bother to say how petrified she’d been that something would go wrong or that the baby would be premature.

“Still, you were there. You do good work in that community.”

She shrugged. “I hope so.”

The older man tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “You do, and don’t ever forget it.”

“What did you need me for?” She didn’t want to sound as though she was rushing him, but she was beginning to smell herself, which wasn’t a good thing.

He sat back in his chair, shoving papers across his desktop. “You know I’ve been having problems with that valve in my heart. They say I can’t put off the surgery much longer.”

Brijette rubbed her hands together in her lap. Doc Arthur had been like a father to her since she’d lost both parents when she was young. He needed the surgery, but she wasn’t sure how they’d make it at the clinic without him. She sat a little straighter in her chair. Wait, as a nurse practitioner, if there was no doctor here then she couldn’t work.

“Don’t panic, I’m not going to close and make you find a new job.”

“I’m sorry. Was I that transparent? You know I’m worried about you, but I have to admit I really love my job and all the people I work with, especially you. I’d hate things to change.”

“Unfortunately, I will have to make a change. I’m bringing in another physician.”

“But, that’s great. We’ve been so busy.” She couldn’t stop smiling, not just because she’d get to keep working here, but because they’d needed help more than she was willing to admit to Doc Arthur.

“I hope he’ll want to stay, but in all honesty he’s only coming to help out while I’m at home recuperating. He’s planning to open his own clinic in Dallas later on.”

“We’ll have to make him fall in love with Cypress Landing.” Brijette couldn’t imagine that would be too hard.

The older man studied the far side of the room and she wondered if they were finished. She leaned forward to get to her feet and Doc Arthur suddenly started speaking again. “He’s been here before. You know him. That’s why I wanted to see you.”

Brijette narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“It’s my nephew, Cade Wheeler. You remember him, don’t you? The two of you were friends that summer he visited, before he started medical school and you and your grandmother left to live with your aunt.”

Despite the air-conditioning, a droplet of cold sweat formed at the base of Brijette’s neck and began a slow trickle down the middle of her back. She’d come a long way since that summer and could happily live the rest of her life without seeing Cade Wheeler again. For a brief second, she thought she might get a new job else-where—possibly, New Orleans. But she loved her life in Cypress Landing, and she couldn’t imagine trying to raise her daughter in the city. The mention of his name made her insides gel with fear. She’d prepared for this possibility, had tried to tie up the loose ends, but her plan had never really been tested. That was about to change.

“Yes, I remember him.”

“Good, I know you two will be able to work together.”

She could only move her head slightly in agreement. Beneath her feet, the floor seemed to tilt.

CHAPTER TWO

THROUGH THE WINDOW, 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.