Island of Secrets and Scars

“I don’t know about that.” He slipped his stethoscope into his ears and motioned for her to lean forward. “She was very happy to see that you were okay last night.”

“I scared her. She always tells me to stay in one spot. I wasn’t there when she tried to find me.”

“Where were you?” He listened to her breathe, satisfied that her lungs were clear.

She grinned. “I was exploring. Creek and I were looking for mermaid caves for when they come on shore and use their legs.”

“Of course,” he played along, “did you find any?”

“No.” She huffed. “Mommy says they don’t live in caves, but she won’t tell me where they live. Keke says they live at our house because Mommy’s a mermaid.” She giggled at this bit of information.

Ian’s stomach pitched. “Keke?”

“My daddy.” Her face lit up as she spoke. “I call him Keke, because Mommy and everyone calls him Keso, but I’m special so he lets me call him something different.” She smiled proudly at the information.

“Maybe you’ll find some mermaids next time.” He didn’t think he wanted to hear anything else about Keso. He’d hoped somehow Keso and Cameron weren’t in love, that their family wasn’t happy. Not that he wanted Cameron unhappy. He just wanted her happy with him. From Arabella’s words though, it seemed her parents cared for each other.

“Can I go home now?” The girl smiled up at him in an obvious ploy to charm him into saying yes.

He’d be lying if he said those cute dimples didn’t almost have him caving. “Uh, I don’t know.” She needed to stay still and have someone look after her, but who better to tend to her than her doctor mother? “Your mom still has to look after Mr. Hunte and the other patients. Who will take care of you?”

“Creek. Mommy says he’s a very responsible dog. He can stay with me when she’s working.”

Ian chuckled and shook his head. “I doubt that,” he confided, “but maybe if your dad’s going to be home—”

“Keke doesn’t live at our house.”

A small surge of triumph flared in Ian’s chest. “He doesn’t? Where does he live?”

Arabella screwed up her little face, thinking deeply. “Mommy,” she called over his shoulder. “Where does Keke live?”

Ian spun around. Cameron stepped into the room, followed by a gangly teenager with a towel pressed to his forehead and an older woman, ringing her wrinkled hands.

“What?” Cameron motioned for the boy to have a seat, then came to stand by her daughter’s bed.

“Dr. Ian wants to know where Keke lives, but I can’t remember.”

Shit. He didn’t need Cameron thinking he was poaching her daughter for information.

Cameron turned, her eyes meeting Ian’s. “Why do you want to know where Keso lives?”

“I don’t,” he replied. “I mean, I asked when she said he didn’t live with you, but it was just conversation.”

As she turned to her daughter, her blue eyes narrowed.

“I want to go home,” Ara told her mother, employing the same wide-eyed gaze she’d tried to use on him.

“I told her you’d probably be busy here, but maybe if her father were home, she could go in a day or two.” He almost strangled on the words her father. He didn’t know Keso Lawrence, but he envied the man.

“Keso usually stays on his boat or the big island when he’s not with us.” Without looking his way, Cameron stepped away, directing her attention to the boy she’d brought in.

* * *

Ian’s gaze bore into Cameron’s back, urging her to turn and confront him, but she refused. When she’d walked in and spotted him with her daughter, her heart had dropped to her stomach. These two people from two separate parts of her life were never supposed to meet. She’d stayed on this island, sure her daughter and former fiancé would never cross paths. And now. Well, now she had him to thank for saving the girl’s life.

Behind her, Ian laughed, followed by a soft giggle from Arabella. She glanced over her shoulder to see his mouth stretched wide in a grin as he focused on her daughter and whatever story she spun. Cameron’s eyes warmed. She’d pictured Ian and their daughter together so many times—imagining how they’d interact, wondering if he’d love her as much as she did. Their daughter would be only slightly older than Arabella. If she let herself, she could forget, for a moment, all that had happened and pretend Ara was their daughter. She could let herself pretend Ian had truly loved her and wanted her. That maybe he still did. Shaking her head, she forced those thoughts away. Ian was an impossible dream—one she’d given up years ago.

She turned back to her patient. “If you’ll stay here, I’ll go get what I need to patch you up.”

“Oh, he’ll stay,” the boy’s grandmother assured her.

Tommy just nodded, still holding the bloody cloth to his forehead.

Cameron hurried down the short hall to her “office” and the locked storage cabinet. Locking the cabinet was pointless. If someone wanted to get into it, they’d have no problem. Besides, if someone were desperate enough to go through the trouble to break in for gauze, numbing gel, sutures, and the like, they probably needed the items more desperately than she did. Still, she unlocked the cabinet, then began searching for what she needed to stitch up the boy’s head.

“Why doesn’t Keso live with you?”

Startled, she jumped, banging her head on the metal door. Wincing, she rubbed the tender spot. “What?”

“Why doesn’t Keso live with you? Why does he stay on his boat or another island?”

“Is that part of Ara’s medical examination?” She forced her voice and breathing to remain steady as she turned and met his dark eyes. They always reminded her of good whiskey, and she hadn’t forgotten how easily she could get drunk on them. That same dizziness washed over her now as she breathed him in. The scent of coffee and mint brought back memories of lazy Sundays on the couch and the comfort of being loved.

“No. I want to know. If he’s Ara’s father, why doesn’t he live with you?”