Kathie DeNosky - His Baby Surprise

They sat in silence for a time before Freddie asked, “What’s he doin’ in Dixie Ridge, anyway?”

Lexi shook her head. “I wondered that myself.”

Freddie rose to her feet. “When do you think he’ll let you know what his intentions are?”

“I don’t know.” Lexi rubbed at the pounding in her temples. “But I don’t think I’ll have too long to wait. I think what he did with the birth certificate is proof enough that Ty isn’t the type of man to bide his time once he’s decided on a plan of action.”

Ty started counting mailboxes when he spotted the old wagon wheel leaning against a rail fence. In the city, he’d used building numbers, street names and well-known landmarks to find his way around. But here in the mountains, addresses weren’t always that easy. He found himself looking for stumps and wagon wheels, counting mailboxes and relying on a tremendous amount of luck to find where he needed to go.

He turned onto the steep lane past the sixth box, a self-deprecating smile curving the corners of his mouth. When Martha informed him that he’d have to make house calls in order to treat a few of his older, less mobile patients, he’d thought the practice inefficient and outdated.

He’d been wrong.

The more he drove the winding roads snaking their way up the side of Piney Knob, the more Ty appreciated the morning ritual, felt a little more tension drain away. For the first time in more years than he cared to count, he was taking life at a slower pace, paying attention to things he’d never had time to notice before. He was beginning to like the difference in the way it made him feel, too. He liked being able to gear down and lower his guard. Not only was he getting to know the people on Piney Knob, he was beginning to know himself.

Ty gazed out the windshield at the panoramic view. Making house calls gave him the chance to enjoy the earthy tones of autumn painting the mountains with their rich hues, to see the ancient peaks and valleys shrouded with the smoky mists the area had been named for. He found he liked the frosty bite of the morning air, the clean smell of pine, instead of the sulfuric smog of the city. And this morning the practice provided another bonus.

Glancing at the packages in the passenger seat, his smile widened. Every patient on this morning’s list of house calls had heard about the baby and asked if he would mind taking their gifts to Lexi. In doing so, they’d inadvertently handed him the perfect excuse to check on his son.

“Not that I need one,” he muttered.

As far as he was concerned, being Matthew’s father was reason enough for him to stop by the Hatfield place any time he damn well pleased.

He steered the truck around a sharp bend in the road, pulled to a stop in front of a small rustic cabin and looked around.

The place was nothing like he’d thought it would be.

In Chicago, Alexis’s apartment had been highly fashionable, ultra modern and very expensive. But Lexi’s house was humble and unassuming. The place looked like it had been constructed of giant Lincoln logs and might possibly have a little shed out back with a crescent moon carved in the door.

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