Friday morning started out hectic. Delaney woke up cranky and pulling at her ear. Even a newbie like Simon knew that could spell trouble. But just to be sure, he put in a call to Cord.

Cord had been up all night with a sick stray pup that hadn’t made it. Irritable from lack of sleep, he listened to Simon’s concerns until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Simon, you’re right to be worried, but she probably has an ear infection. Didn’t you tell me you were taking her for her well visit today anyway?”

“Yeah, but I just wanted to run it by you first.”

“And now you have. The next step is showing up at Quentin’s office. Can you handle that?”

His curt reply finally hit Simon the wrong way. “You’re an ass. I’m just worried.”

“That’s because you’re overreacting. Kids get ear infections. She got off a plane four days ago. What happens when you fly? The eardrum pushes outward. If she was already building up fluid, she might be feeling pressure in there. Look, man. I know this must be hard. You’ve got the doctor’s appointment, get in there and see what he has to say before you come unglued.”

“This is all new for me.”

“I know and I’m trying to find my supportive gear.”

Delaney wailed in the background.

“I gotta go. I don’t like it when she cries. I feel helpless.”

“I know that, too. According to Nick, this is all part of fatherhood, buddy. Get used to it before you buckle under the pressure. Take it day by day. Some days will be better than others.”

Simon took that bit of advice and got Delaney ready for the trip into town. He showed up at the doctor’s office, a Mission-style house two blocks off Main Street, two hours ahead of his scheduled appointment time and waited in the parking lot for someone to open up.

When a small, nondescript Chevy sedan pulled in beside him, he watched a lanky woman crawl out wearing a nurse’s outfit in turquoise-colored scrubs. She had graying blond hair and looked like an older version of Gilly.

“You waiting for me?” she asked, a slight annoyance in her tone.

“I’m way early for my appointment but I think she’s sick,” he told the woman as he followed her to the front door and watched her stick a key into the lock. “I’m Simon Bremmer and this is Delaney.”

“I remember the names of the patients on the docket for today,” the woman snapped. “I’m Connie Grant, Gilly’s mom. I’m the one who wrote you down in the appointment book.”

“Nice to meet you. I had dinner with Gilly and Jayden last night.”

Fifty-nine-year-old Connie Grant had a no-nonsense nature about her and a nurse’s instinct that went back years. She’d worked in San Sebastian for so long and made the commute, she considered herself lucky now to be able to work in town less than three minutes from her house. In fact, Connie could’ve walked to work. She felt it was a miracle that Quentin Blackwood had given her a job. Which was probably why she’d bonded instantly with him. But at this stage of her life, Connie could be a tad overbearing with a sharp edge. She could also be overly protective, sometimes to a fault. She brought that attitude to work with her, fiercely guarding Dr. Blackwood’s interests.

Now, her cautious nature flared up, raising her shields to protect Gilly and Jayden. Which probably was the reason she took such an instant dislike to Simon, a man she knew nothing about except that he mostly stayed to himself running his tourist business, a business she considered frivolous. From the moment her daughter had mentioned Simon Bremmer coming over for dinner, Connie’s suspicious nature had kicked in. Now that she got a look at him for herself, she didn’t trust those bluebonnet-colored eyes of his. They seemed too cocky, too over-confident.

Although his concern seemed genuine, especially with the toddler in his arms, she kept her reservations in place as the man followed her inside the office. “You told me when you made the appointment that this would be Delaney’s well visit. Now you’re saying she’s ill?”

Simon had a hard time ignoring the cold attitude emanating off Connie Grant. It could’ve frozen Mother Teresa in her tracks. “Yeah. That’s it. I think it might be an ear infection.”

From years of dealing with a variety of panicky parents, Connie’s skeptical nature kicked in again and she raised a brow. His rookie status was shining through loud and clear and she didn’t like it. “We’ll see if Dr. Blackwood shares your diagnosis, won’t we?”

She went around to the front desk and picked up a clipboard and a pen, shoved both into his hands. “Fill this out. You can set her down to play with the toys we have set up over in the corner. It’ll keep her occupied while you fill out the paperwork.”

Simon did as he was told and was shocked when Delaney toddled over to the toy chest and plopped down to explore its contents, her mood changing from the cranky baby she’d been at home to almost normal. He quickly completed the insurance stuff and handed the clipboard back to Connie.

 While she checked his information, Simon made small talk. Or tried to. “Gilly’s the one who suggested I bring Delaney in and let the doc check her out, make sure she’s okay. I thought it was a good idea.”

“It’s always a good idea to get established with a doctor when you have small children.”

Simon couldn’t get past the block of ice that was Connie. This woman was nothing like her daughter, that warm, caring individual he’d had dinner with the night before. When several more attempts at dialogue ended in frosty, clipped retorts, he finally gave up and took a seat in the reception area.

While other patients drifted in, the wait to see the doctor lasted another half hour.

Quentin came out wearing a white coat to greet him personally. The man had longish dark brown hair that turned up at his collar with cool gray eyes that seemed friendly and caring.

“Who do we have here?” Quentin asked, looking over at the toddler.

“That’s Delaney.”

From her desk, Connie piped up, “Dr. Blackwood, I’d intended to take them into an exam room later because they’re an hour early for their appointment.”

“That’s okay,” Quentin said. “They’re here now.” He looked around the waiting room and waved at the others. “I think we can squeeze you in.”

“I hope everything you need is in the file because that’s all they gave me on Monday,” Simon explained, glancing over at a stern-faced Connie as he passed by her desk. Gilly’s mother seemed either perturbed that her authority had been usurped or was disappointed that Dr. Blackwood hadn’t kept him waiting longer. He thought he could actually see the nurse’s ears perk up like radar. “I brought Delaney’s medical records with me from Boston.”

Quentin took the folder and led them into an exam room down the hallway. “Boston? That piques my interest. What’s a Boston girl doing this far west?”

It wasn’t until the doctor closed the door that Simon very quietly told him the story of how Delaney had come to be in Pelican Pointe.

Quentin took a seat on a rolling stool. “And for two years you’d had no contact with this woman?”

“Not a word or a postcard. She never even asked for child support. I hadn’t heard the name until she died, and the lawyer showed up with all this paperwork that said Amelia had put me on the birth certificate as Delaney’s father and made out a will that named me her legal guardian.”

“Very strange indeed. These past few days you must’ve been overwhelmed with this coming out of left field the way it did.”

“I was. I still am. I’m trying to figure out what’s next.”

“Is she eating okay since all this disruption in her life?”

“She eats okay, but sometimes likes to play at dinnertime. When I asked Jordan about it, she said that’s normal. But then I’ve only had four nights to figure out normal. I did have a question about teething. She seems to chew on everything.”

“Couple of things to try that might make teething more bearable. Take a banana and cut it into thirds, then push a popsicle stick in the middle of each piece and slide them into the freezer. When you notice she’s fussy, hand her one of those and the ice-cold texture will help soothe the gums. Same is true with freezing any flavor of Kool-Aid in those pop-out trays with the stem. You can also try freezing apple rings. Just peel and core an apple, slice it so it looks like rings, then stick them into the freezer. They make great finger food. All three options give her something to chew that’s cold.”

Simon looked awestruck. “See? I didn’t know any of that.”

“If you don’t know, use the Internet to look up a solution. I’m not suggesting you follow the medical advice you find there because there’s a large amount that’s downright crap. But there’s nothing wrong with looking up a few shortcuts for things like teething.”

“Good to know. There is something Kinsey thought you could help me with. I’d like you to do a paternity test.”

Quentin nodded and continued to study the folder until he leaned closer. “The file says your girl is type O. By any chance do you know your blood type?”

“B positive.”

“You’re sure?”

“I was in the military, Doc. Believe me, I know my own blood type. Why?”

“If Delaney’s type O, that would mean the mother must have been type A or O.”

“Is that significant for paternity?”

“Not really. I’m looking at it purely from a medical perspective. If Delaney were to ever need a blood transfusion down the road, I’d have to rely on what’s in here. It’s good you’re willing to do a quick test today to make sure. We’ll have the results back by Monday.”

“I think that’s the way to go, check everything.”

“Not a problem. Although you should know that a difference in blood type doesn’t rule you out as Delaney’s father. If that’s what you’re thinking, I could go into a detailed genealogy explanation or you could trust that I know what I’m talking about. With a type B father, Delaney could only be type O if the mother was A or O. Since we don’t have the mother’s medical records it makes sense to find out for certain, even if you weren’t going for paternity.”

“Does that mean drawing blood?”

“Nope, just a little stick to the finger just to be sure. And since we’re sticking both of you, truth won’t come without a little pain. But I see here she’s due for her DTP immunizations anyway, so...”

“Even if I think she might have an ear infection?”

“Ah. Let’s take a look at that.” Quentin picked up his otoscope to check the ear canal. “There is some redness and fluid in both ears.” He used a digital thermometer to take her temperature. “Ninety-nine, which means she might be on the cusp of an infection.”

“She had ninety-nine Monday night, too. That’s the reason I took her to the hospital. She wouldn’t stop crying. That’s where I met Gilly.”

“Gilly knows her stuff. I’d say, it looks like all this stress in Delaney’s little life is finally catching up with her. Tell you what…” From a drawer, he pulled out a prescription pad. “Let’s put her on Amoxycillin for ten days and get her completely healthy before we do the immunizations. I think that’s best with all the stress she’s gone through lately. Her medical records indicate she isn’t allergic to penicillin, which we’re counting on to be right. I’m delaying the booster because when you bring her back in healthy, we’ll no doubt want to add her measles and chicken pox shots in there to get her up to speed.” He stood up as if finished. “I’ll send Connie in to prick your fingers and get that started.”

“Does it have to be Connie? Couldn’t you just do it?”

Quentin’s gray eyes warmed. “So you and Connie didn’t hit it off, is that it? Well, you aren’t the first one to hint at that kind of friction. Between you and me, I miss my wife here in the office. But she’s a superb ER nurse and it’s best for the hospital if she’s there during the day rather than being stuck here, helping me with the everyday routine stuff.”

“What happens when there’s an emergency?”

“We have that covered. Sydney assesses the situation and then calls either me or Gideon. At night, if there’s an accident or someone goes into labor, I rely on the duty nurse to make the call. That’s either Gilly, Aubree Wright, or Sheena Howser.”

“Everyone working different shifts is confusing.”

“It may sound that way, but we have it worked out, team-wise. We all know our role in an emergency situation. Sydney and I are very proud of how we lured Sheena down from the Bay Area. We stole her away from a top-notch facility and gave her the hours she wanted. Our staff might be new, but we’re motivated to be the best for our patients. In fact, we’re having a fundraiser for the hospital toward the end of October, right before Halloween. You should plan to participate.”

“What’s involved?”

Quentin rubbed his fingers together in a money gesture. “Bread. Moolah. We need to build up our cash reserve to continue to operate down the road. Don’t get me wrong. We still get our grant from the feds but having cash on hand always makes it easier to buy everything we need. Drugs and supplies don’t come cheap.”

“How much are you looking to raise?”

Quentin tossed out a low six figure. “We’re not asking for the moon.”

“That sounds doable.”

 “Sydney’s been planning this bash since July. An auction with food, music, dancing, the whole bit.”

“And you’re getting dragged into all of it.”

“Not really. Sydney’s drafted a handful of recruits to help her. And I’m gladly letting her take the lead.”

“I’m about to buy a house, but hey, count on me to help out. I’m good for a contribution.”

“Then why are you squirming?”

Simon scratched his jaw. “Is Connie any good at that blood-drawing thing?”

Quentin’s lips curved. “I’d think a tough Army guy like yourself wouldn’t have a problem with needles.”

“Usually I don’t. But that woman doesn’t like me and it’s obvious.”

The smile left Quentin’s face. “At one time, I thought Connie was one of the best hires I’d made. Her skills and instincts are what you’d expect from a nurse who’s been doing this for decades. But I learned early on that if she doesn’t like you, it tends to show. She wears her feelings on her sleeve and doesn’t bother to hide them at all.”

“Oh, it shows,” Simon admitted. “I’m not sure what I did except have dinner with her daughter and grandson.”

“There you go,” Quentin muttered. “She tends to make snap judgments.”

“I thought Gilly and I had hit it off because I asked her to come out to the farm for dinner Saturday night. I didn’t realize I might have to clear it with the mother first.”

“Connie’s been a tough read for me. I thought I had her all figured out until an incident with another patient last week. She seemed to get upset over nothing and it went from a little thing to a big blowup. Drama is something I don’t put up with around here.”

“Who wants to put up with a confrontational nurse? All I want to know is, can she prick my finger without making it black and blue? I’ve had blood drawn before, Doc. And it’s all in the technique.”

Quentin chuckled. “All right. I’ll do the slide for both you and Delaney. I should have the results back on Monday. We’ll talk in greater detail then.”

 

 

After getting Delaney’s prescription filled, Simon stopped at the bank to talk to Nick. He waited longer to see him than he had waited to see Quentin.

Nick had a string of people, six total, waiting in his outer office. When it was Simon’s turn, he watched a young married couple emerge he didn’t recognize. But since they came out of Nick’s office all smiles, Simon figured they must’ve received good news.

“I found a house,” Simon announced before going into a litany of its features. He stopped when he noticed Nick wasn’t as enthusiastic.

Nick simply leaned back in his chair. “Simon, should I worry about these impulsive decisions you’re making?”

“No. Why?”

“Because…I’m not sure how to say this.”

Simon frowned, his good mood going south. “Just say it. I’ve found that’s the best way.”

“All right. You’re making all these life changing decisions. What if⸻and I’m just playing devil’s advocate here⸻what if you discover Delaney isn’t yours? What if you find out this Amelia person has family somewhere that wants to fight you for legal custody? What happens then? Have you even heard from Brent about the background check? What if all this comes tumbling down around you and you somehow discover it’s all been…some kind of trick?”

Simon dropped into a chair. “You don’t think I haven’t considered all that? Because I have. I just left the doctor’s office. Quentin is essentially doing a paternity test. You think my stomach isn’t in a knot knowing Amelia may have lied about this whole thing? That Delaney might not even be mine? But tell me this, Nick. What am I supposed to do? Let someone else take care of her? Put her in foster care? Try to find a bunch of strangers on her mother’s side and then dump her on them? That isn’t me.”

Nick blew out a heavy breath. “I know it’s not. And I think that’s why you’re in the spot you’re in. Without knowing anything about Amelia other than what you’ve said, I think she knew you were a stand-up kind of guy.”

“So you don’t think Delaney’s mine?”

“I didn’t say that. She certainly looks like you, especially around the eyes. But as your friend, I have to consider the most basic question of all. Why didn’t she want child support from you? Have you asked yourself that? It’s highly irregular.”

“I don’t know. I have a lot of questions. I’m afraid of the answers. I already told my mom and she’s flying out here next week, full of excitement. Amelia isn’t just playing with my feelings from the grave, she’s at the root of my getting my mother all jazzed about being a grandmother. It’s all…so very confusing and scary. Amelia and I do have history. I keep thinking it isn’t just possible, it’s probable.”

“Okay, but do me a favor. Step back from the house angle until Monday. Give yourself a weekend to digest everything. If by then, you want to buy that house on Tradewinds, fine. I’ll make it happen. But try not to make any more of these big decisions until a couple of things happen. One, you get the results back from the paternity test. And two, you get Brent’s findings from the background check. That’s all I’m suggesting. If it turns out that Delaney isn’t yours, then you can still be her father. No one’s gonna make her go away. I see you’ve fallen in love with her just like I did with Hutton. And Hutton isn’t mine by blood. But that child is as much mine as she is Scott’s. So I know the bond you’re feeling. All I’m saying is just slow down, take a breath, maybe get out of hyperdrive for two minutes. You already have a shitload of paperwork that says at the very least, you’re Delaney’s legal guardian. No one can change that, not even Amelia’s family, if there is any. That’s huge.”

“Unless it’s all phony documentation,” Simon stated flatly. “I’ve thought of that angle, too. I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re one of the sharpest men I know. And one more reason to proceed with caution. At the very least, you’ll know the truth, and from there be able to know what’s real and what isn’t.”

Simon decided it was good strategy. As he got to his feet and turned to go, he stopped and stared at Nick. “But I really want that house. Could you at least call Logan and make sure no one else buys it?”

Nick cracked a grin. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. That house has been sitting empty for quite some time. But I’ll make the call just in case.”

Simon cocked his head and stared at his friend. “Now it’s my turn to give you some advice. Did you ever think about spending more time at home away from this rat race you’ve built up? Hutton’s right. I know you help people but…you look tired all the time.”

Nick took a deep, soul-cleansing breath. “I’m exhausted by the time I get home in the evening. There’s never time for the kids anymore. So about a month ago I decided to start interviewing for a VP, who can take care of a lot of this paperwork. I’ve got a few lined up, good candidates. Hopefully I can make a decision soon and get them in here as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Simon, has Jordan said anything to you about this?”

Simon was no fool to stir up trouble between couples. “Not a word. But anyone can see you’re struggling to breathe under all this bureaucracy. It’s not you.”

That evening, Simon and Delaney settled in at home because the toddler was still running a fever. After supper, he took her outside on the porch where they could sit in the rocking chair and take in the sights and sounds on the farm.

With Merlin at his feet, he rocked back and forth, talking softly about things around them, things she didn’t understand. But he’d read on the Internet that it didn’t matter. Just talking to her was an important part of bonding. Her hearing his voice was important, the subject matter immaterial.

Silas had harvested the corn that day, along with a batch of arugula and spinach, squash and zucchini. Nearby, in another field, Sammy sat atop one of the huge tractors, busy plowing a patch of ground where he’d replant kale and broccoli.

They’d finished picking the cherries that day and a few workers were still carting them into the packing house.

Simon waved to the seasonal farmhands, hard at work under the setting sun, their bodies bent, picking strawberries and blueberries destined for markets north and south.

“The same crew comes every June,” Simon told Delaney. “They travel from the central valley to the coast and bring their families, live in trailers or RVs, camping out near the farm. I never understood until now just how hard that has to be, traveling from one farm to the next with kids in tow to find work.”

Delaney answered with baby babble.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Simon returned. “Maybe we should do something about that. I can’t imagine doing all that moving around with you.”

His perspectives were morphing into a man’s outlook that he didn’t quite recognize. But that was okay. Since mustering out of the Army, he knew well that change could often bring on a badly needed attitude adjustment. It could be a good thing.

“Now you’re beginning to get the picture,” Scott said from the other side of the porch. “You’re here for a reason.”

Simon slowly turned his head to see Scott sitting in the other rocking chair, swaying back and forth as if in sync with the harvester’s engine sounds. He tried to keep his voice level when he leaned past Delaney to answer. “I’m here to make sure farm workers have a better lot in life?”

“Stop worrying. You’re not the next Cesar Chavez,” Scott cautioned. “Although you could speak to Nick about building better housing for the farmhands; a bunkhouse for the single guys would work. And maybe a few two-bedroom units for any head of household who wants to stay on for longer than a season. If you went out there right now and took a poll, most of those workers would tell you they’d love to settle down in one spot, but the opportunity just isn’t there. This farm is a tremendous cash cow. Finding the money for housing shouldn’t be a problem. Look at this place. It isn’t working for you and Delaney, but it could work for another family. You talking to Nick about hiring more permanent workers would eliminate the hassle each year of trying to find enough quality people to get the job done, folks who’ll stick around and send their kids to school in town and contribute to the community.”

“Jordan’s right. You love this town.”

“Everything about it deserves to be better.”

“Why don’t you talk to Nick yourself? From what I hear, you don’t have a problem bugging anyone for any reason.”

“I don’t need to bug Nick when I have you. Besides, Nick has other important things to take care of before going home to all the other necessary stuff he does for family. He’s spreading himself too thin. Maybe you should bring that up to him the next time he starts preaching to you about what’s wrong with your life.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“You like Gilly?”

“Oh, God. Don’t tell me you’ve zeroed in on my love life.”

“You don’t have a love life.”

“Neither do you,” Simon shot back.

“But you aren’t dead,” Scott countered. “You forget that I know what Amelia did to you. I know the real reason you haven’t bothered with women since you’ve been here.”

Simon bristled, the hilarity gone. “Some things should be kept private. You don’t get to stick your nose into everything just because no one can stop you.”

“Fair enough. But remember this. Gilly has her own secrets.”

By the time he opened his mouth to respond, Scott was gone. He propped his chin on the top of Delaney’s head. “Remind me to tell you a bedtime story. No ghosts allowed.”

Delaney pointed toward the strawberry field.

Simon followed the track of her eyes and realized she was pointing at Scott, who was now standing in the middle of the farmland surrounded by the pickers. “Do you see that man?”

“Man,” Delaney repeated.

“Weird,” Simon muttered. “Very weird.”