Page 81 of The Sandbar saga

"Mommy?" said the child at her side.

His gaze lowered to a spitting image of Katie when she was younger. The child's blonde hair braided on both sides of her head. The slim arms and legs peeking out from a white dress with purple flowers across the chest. Blue eyes stared up at him curiously, and it was like looking in Katie's eyes, except the mistrust wasn't evident.

The realization of what was happening came instantly. She'd had a child since she'd left him.

She'd loved another man.

Started a new life.

His heart ripped to shreds, he wanted to be happy for her. Wasn't that his goal all those years of helping her cope with the tragedies of her past?

He clenched and unclenched his hands. All he could feel was the hurt of losing her all over again.

"I called." Katie rubbed her lips together and looked at her daughter before meeting his eyes again. "My daughter needs you."

He shook his head. She asked too much.

"I can, uh,..." He inhaled swiftly, rubbing his hand down his lower face. "Give you a referral."

"No, nobody else. Just you. It has to be you." Katie reached out and grabbed his arm. "Please. I know it's a lot to ask, but I need to talk to you."

He dipped his chin and stepped back. She dropped her hand from him.

Leading her into his office, he took the chair behind his desk, needing to sit down.

Katie took the chair across from him, reached into the bag she carried, and handed her daughter a book, whispering, "Callie, can you sit over on the sofa? Here are new paper dolls for you to do while I have a visit?"

Callie took the book and skipped over and sat in the back of the room without any hesitation. Lightheaded, he steepled his fingers under his chin. He couldn't get over the new Katie, a mother, clearly succeeding in finding her happiness.

Katie faced him, clasping her hands together on her lap. The movement reminiscent of her at twelve years old, trying not to mess up in front of her mother.

"I'd like you to counsel Callie," she said softly, obviously trying to keep the conversation away from her daughter.

"I don't—"

"I know you concentrate on adults now, but I'll pay you." She glanced behind her and then leaned forward, grabbing the edge of his desk.

She might as well have thrown herself in his arms.

"Please," she whispered.

The ramifications of her asking anything from him piqued his curiosity after everything they'd been through together. That she would trust him to help her child, knowing how personal and close he had become to her during the years he'd actively been in her life, as a psychologist, a guardian, a lover.

"You must know what it's doing to me to see you." He pressed his lips together and looked over Katie's shoulder to the corner of the room. "I would do anything for you, but asking me to..." He brought his gaze back to Katie and looked into her eyes. "I can't."

"You must."

The desperation in her eyes wrapped around him. He could never deny her. "Why me?"

She stood as if to protect her child. "Because she's your daughter."

"My...?" He looked at the child.

The blonde hair, upturned nose, blue eyes, all he could see was Katie in the child. But, Katie never had the patience, the calmness, to sit contently by herself. He exhaled loudly, having held his breath. Nicole from answering service had mentioned the child was four years old. Katie left five years ago.

It took nine months to have a baby.

He snapped his gaze back to Katie. He floundered over all the questions. Before he could speak them, another one attacked, and he was left speechless.