This is my first Hart of Dixie fan fic, hope I can do the characters justice. This is a little AU version of how I imagine it could have gone if Wade had known more about Zoe before she arrived in town than we saw in the show. Also in this version Zoe comes to Bluebell already knowing Harley is her father, and maybe Harley had a little more to his plan to get her to Bluebell than we thought. Like perhaps some matchmaking….

"Well doc, I guess she's agreed to come to Bluebell after all," Wade sank onto the decorative cement bench in front of the old man's grave. He tried to get out here to the cemetery once a week or so to leave flowers for his mom and make sure no weeds were creeping up around her stone, and leave the letters Earl wrote her because he was too stubborn to come out here himself. Last couple months he'd always stopped by Doc Wilkes' grave on the way out as well to say a few words.

It had taken all of them in town by surprise, just how fast Harley got sick. A stark reminder that absolutely no one was invincible, even the town hero.

Wade's mind went back to the last conversation he'd had with Harley.

"I do appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to take care of those hedges, Wade," Harley Wilkes said as he sat in his rocking chair on the back porch. A pitcher of sweet tea and two glasses of ice sat on the patio table nearby, brought out a few minutes ago by Emma, who was Harley and Dr. Breeland's nurse at the office and also stopped in a couple times a week lately to look in after him since he'd officially retired a couple months ago.

"No problem Doc, glad to help," Wade said as he leaned the ancient trimmer against the side of the house and climbed the porch steps to drop into the wicker chair across from Harley. He watched as Harley lifted the pitcher of tea, but the old man's hands shook, and it took him a couple tries to make the glass without spilling it.

A pang of sadness hit Wade as he watched. The old man was sick. They all knew it, but nobody said it outloud or asked questions. He was getting thinner and thinner all the time. They all just tried to pitch in where they could, taking care of the lawn, the house, his old dog Jake, making sure someone from the Dixie Stop delivered groceries a couple times a week.

Harley Wilkes has been Bluebell's doctor since before Wade was born, since long before Brick Breeland bought into his practice. Every broken bone, stitches, shot he'd ever got as a kid had come from Doc Wilkes. When his mom died, it was Harley who lead the town effort to made sure Earl's boys stayed in one piece, even if sometimes he had to literally stitch them back together.

The memory stood out in Wade' s mind of himself at 12 years old, running through the woods barefoot terrified, pounding on Harley's backdoor because his dad was passed out in the chair again but it was different this time. He couldn't hear Earl's raspy breathing. Jesse was leaving for the army in a few months. His mom had lost her life to cancer a couple years ago. Without Earl he'd have no one, even if the old man was more than a little bit of a crazy drunk. Harley had saved his dad's life more than once.

Harley cleared his throat. "You know I'm sick, Wade. I'm not going to make it much longer."

Wade tried to brush it off. "Are you kidding me? You'll probably outlast all of us, except maybe Crazy Earl."

Harley's wizened old eyes looked sad. "I was just hoping….well, I was hoping I'd be able to convince her to come here….."

"Her?"

"My daughter," Harley said quietly.

Wade gave Harley a sideways glance. Jeez, maybe the poor old man really was starting to lose it. As far as he knew, Doc Wilkes had never married or had children. He'd given his whole life taking care of the people of this town.

"Uh…you have a daughter?"

"Yes indeed. She lives in New York City last I knew. I think you'd like her, Wade. She's not much younger than you. A doctor, even. And such a pretty thing."

Wade laughed outloud, amused. "A New Yorker, huh? In Bluebell? I can just imagine. Fancy coffee and expensive shoes….Probably wouldn't last a day."

"Oh no," Harley smiled. "She's feisty, this one. Tough. Good stock. Maybe some day I'll get her to come here after all. When that happens, will you do something for me?"

"What's that?"

"Tell her I was proud of her. "

Not even a week later, Harley Wilkes had died in his sleep, and the town of Bluebell had mourned his passing deeply. Funny how in a small town the loss of just one person could feel like such a gaping hole. But life went on, quietly and slowly. Brick took over the medical practice. Rumors abound that Harley had left the other half to someone, but nobody knew who it was except for town lawyer George Tucker, who refused to spill the beans, and Emma, who continued to send the mysterious Zoe Hart the postcards Harley had written out before he died. And Wade. Nobody had confirmed it to him personally but he knew.

And finally, finally a couple months later word had come through.

Harley Wilke's daughter was coming to Bluebell.

"Guess Lavon's got it set up for her to live in the carriage house," Wade said aloud. "She's supposed to be here next couple days. Probably gonna drive me crazy from the sound of it."

Among the sound of birds chirping in the misty mid-morning air and the wind rustling among the trees, he could almost hear the old man's deep laughter, feel that hand on his shoulder. You're a good man, Wade. Some day I hope you learn to believe that. Your mama would be proud of you."

He didn't know what to think of that. He hadn't done much to deserve anyone's praise. He was a playboy and a hell-raiser who worked as a bartender for a living, and he'd resigned himself to the fact that it was how people saw him and always would.

With a sigh Wade got to his feet. "Well anyway, I promised you I'd look out for her, and I'll do my best," he brushed his knuckles across the top of the stone. He owed the old man that much.

A gust of warm wind blew up, and he got an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Anticipation, maybe. Funny how you could wake up one morning and think it was just another day and by the time the sun set that night everything was different.

##########################

Nobody knew exactly when Zoe Hart was coming, and to be honest, well, the thing about small towns is not only that everyone knows each other, but they know each other's business. And from the second Harley's daughter dragged her suitcases off the bus, everyone knew it.

"Well," Wade said as he stood in Lavon's kitchen, hands braced against the counter. "You met her. What's she like?"

Lavon seemed to contemplate his answer. "Cute. Got a mouth on her, alright," he shook his head and smiled. "She's…going to require an adjustment period," As the mayor of this town, he heard and saw all. And he'd heard and see enough already.

The doctor had arrived yesterday, took one stroll through town, insulted half the people in it, showed up at the plantation and demanded her room, then disappeared into the carriage house. She hadn't been seen since, but tongues in town were wagging and the comments on the Bluebell Blawker were practically overloading the town's gossip website.

Wade read the blog post on the ipad over Lavon's shoulder. "She told Lemon Breeland she looked like a stick of butter?" He slapped his knee and laughed. "Well that's like sticking your hand in a tiger cage and expecting to pull it back out with all your fingers. And what's with all these comments about her shorts? I'm gonna have to see this in person. Must not have much in the way of manners, she gets here and going into hiding right away or what? Seems kinda rude to me. Might have to teach her a lesson or two."

Lavon raised his eyebrows. "Don't even think about it, Wade."

Zoe Hart seemed nice enough, if a little…out of place. She had determination, Lavon Hayes could see that. Trouble was, were the rest of the people in the town going to be able to see it. Harley Wilkes' legacy was a lot to live up to.

Wade gave him an innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I told Harley I'd look after her. Gotta keep my promise, don't I?"

"Oh, I'm sure you will. Be nice. And keep your hands off."

Wade smirked and grabbed a peach out of the fruit basket. "I'll try, but you know me Lavon. I'm a hands-on kinda guy." He walked towards the door whistling a little tune.

"I know," Lavon yelled behind him. "That's what I'm afraid of."

#####################################

Zoey told herself she was NOT hiding, even though her first day in Bluebell had been a bonafide disaster. Good grief, the place was like something out of a bad southern movie from 1985. But she was determined to make this work. Harley had obviously wanted her here for a reason, and maybe she could make a difference somehow. Maybe she could even bring them into the 21st century. Tomorrow she'd go over to Harley's practice and ask for his patient files and dive right in, Brick Breeland be damned.

"I can do this,"she said out loud to the dusty walls, even though nobody was listening. I mean, she was a surgeon for god's sake. She had handled traumatic situations every day for the last four years. She saved lives. She could surely make friends with a bunch of yoo-hoos in a backwards corner of Alabama to treat their bumps and bruises for the next 12 months.

Tonight, though, she would settle for putting her good Kate Spade sheets on the bed, trying to find a damn wifi signal, and reluctantly calling her mother and reassuring her that no she was not having a nervous breakdown.

Although, in her own defense, she didn't know what the hell the woman was expecting to happen when a person found out their father was not their father at all.

The news had stunned her.

"You can't go there," Candice Hart demanded as she watched Zoe pack her suitcase in her Manhattan apartment . "Bluebell, Alabama? Are you insane? I know you got dumped and all, but this is ridiculous. This is New York City, there's plenty of other eligible men."

"It has nothing to do with needing a man! I need to find a GP fellowship, Mom, and there's not one open within 400 miles of here," Zoe said impatiently, throwing her favorite Christian Louboutin heels on top of the pile. "Harley seems like he really needs my help."

"You don't even know him."

"I know," she said lightly. "Apparently my speech much have had a bigger effect on him than I thought."

And with that, her stuffy high society mother gave it all up. Maybe she thought it would change her mind. Maybe she was just tired of dealing with the secret she'd been keeping for the last 30 years.

"Oh, get over yourself. Harley Wilkes wasn't some random old man who showed up at your graduation to listen to your speech." Candice said flatly. "He was your father. And he's dead. And I have been informed that he died four months ago. Are you happy now?" She turned and stalked out of the apartment.

And with that, what was left of Zoe's carefully crafted existence pretty much crumbled.

She'd lost the guy who she thought was the love of her life. She'd lost the fellowship that was supposed to be the next step in her career. She'd lost the man she had grown up thinking was her father and her hero, because now that it was out in the open, Ethan Hart was no longer "required" to have anything to do with her.

Bluebell right now, apparently, was her best option for the next year. So here she was.

Living in the purgatory of southern Alabama.

With a sigh, she tucked herself into bed and settled in for the night with a notepad in her hand, making a list of everything that needed to be done…and everything she needed to order from back home for this old shack if she planned to stay.

First order of business….best espresso machine on the market.

Her mind strayed though, and absently she looked down to realize she'd written.

2nd order of business...make my father proud of me.

The lights overhead flickered, and through the open window she heard the obnoxious sounds of electric guitars floating across the pond.

"Ugh, seriously?" She complained at the ceiling. Lavon had told her that the electricity system at the plantation was pretty old, and he'd be doing an upgrade in a couple months between her house and the gatehouse. Until then she apparently had to be careful not to overload it with whoever the guy was who lived over there.

Which evidently did not concern whoever was over there making all that racket.

And with that, the lights in the carriage house went completely dark.

Grumbling, Zoe threw a sweater on over her pajamas top and stumbled outside in her newly purchased knee high rubber boots to walk around the pond and bang on the door of the gatehouse. When nobody answered she just walked right in.

The offending racket-maker was having himself a party, alright, banging on a guitar from a video game while two girls who barely looked old enough to drink danced around behind him. There were empty beer bottles and pizza boxes everywhere.

Gross, she thought, wrinkling her nose.

"Hey," Zoe yelled. "You overheated the generator. My power's out."

Wade paused mid AC/DC guitar riff and the fake crowd on the tv booed, signaling he was out. He barely noticed.

Well. Now he got why the hell Zoe Hart's shorts had gotten a 47% disapproval rate on Dash Dewitt's latest town poll.

Too bad. He didn't disapprove of them much at all.

Oh, this is going to be fun, he thought, amused and intrigued at the same time. Of course it just so happened he'd plugged every appliance in his house in tonight, even turned on the window air conditioner and the bug zapper just for good measure so that soon as she plugged anything in over there, something was gonna blow.

And she'd have to come out of hiding.

"You must be the doctor's daughter," he threw her an easy smile and held out his free hand. "I'm Wade. Wanna join the party?"

He didn't know what he'd exactly been expecting, but this little spitfire was a pleasant surprise.

And the sparks flying out of the fuse box were nothing compared to the gold daggers she was shooting him with her dark brown eyes.

Zoe didn't miss one bit of the way he looked her up and down like she was a cheap waitress at the nearest bar and grill. He would have been cute in a backwoods way, she thought, studying him, if he got a haircut and put on a clean shirt, maybe. But she wasn't that desperate. Yet.

Instead of holding out her hand and returning the gesture, she kept her arms firmly across her chest. "No thanks. I'd like to keep my dignity. Save your cute little pickup lines for the girls at the church social."

Wade took a step back. Lavon was right, this one had a mouth on her. He liked a girl with sass. she wasn't going to make this easy. Well two could play at that game.

He raised his eyebrows. "First lesson in southern hospitality sweetheart. Rudeness doesn't get you anywhere."

"I'm a New Yorker," she said, her chin high in the air. "We're a tough bunch. Now are you gonna fix my fuse box or not."

"Sure," Wade turned away from her and went back to the tv and the two ditzy looking girls again. He couldn't remember their names. Laura and Leah, maybe? Not that it really mattered. It never did. "In the morning."

Zoe gaped at him. "How about right now?"

"Kinda busy at the moment. If you're scared feel free to spend the night, though."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and turned around and stalked out, boots clomping.

Watching her leave might have been his favorite part, in more ways than one.

He had a suspicion Bluebell, Alabama was about to get ravaged by the biggest hurricane since Katrina had almost leveled the place in 2005. And he got that feeling in his gut again, the one that meant everything was about to change. Resolutely he pushed it away and went back to the video game as one of the "L" girls draped herself around him from behind.

#########################################

Zoe made it three days before she hit what she considered rock bottom. Almost eaten by an alligator, almost gotten two people killed, pissed off her "partner" in the other half of her dead father's practice, pissed off the Belles women, whatever the hell a Belle was. Some stupid poll on the town gossip website was declaring that "87% of the citizens of Bluebell think Zoe Hart needs to go back to New York." Yeah she was doing a crackerjack job of fitting in.

She couldn't hide in the carriage house another night. And everyone in town was treating her like a pariah. So she settled for the next least worst thing. She started walking. It was pretty out here, she had to admit. A big change from the constant traffic, the horns honking, people yelling at all hours of the night. Quiet. You could see the stars. This part, maybe, she could get used to. If everyone in town stopped hating her guts.

God, she didn't even know when the last time she'd been able to look up and see the stars was. Or maybe she'd never just paid attention.

"I'm not doing such a good job here, Harley," she said out loud as she stumbled along the back road to the plantation with a box of wine in her hand from the Dixie Stop. "Can you send me a sign or something? Preferably not in the form of a very large alligator." Her eyes darted to both sides of the road. Or any other crawly four-legged creature. With a sigh, she sat down right on the side of the road, kicked her high heels off her sore feet, and cracked open the box of wine, draining it into a paper coffee cup.

Not even a minute later, headlights shown over the hill behind her when she looked over her shoulder.

And Wade Kinsella pulled his dusty, faded red and white camaro to a stop next to her.

Zoe raised her eyes to address the night sky. "Hey Harley, this was not what I had in mind!"

"Look at you girl," Wade said with a lazy grin, shaking his head. "Drunk as a boiled owl. Everyone knows old man Jackson memorized the eyechart years ago."

"Not everyone," she informed him, trying to shove the paper cup under the wine spout again and missing.

"I'd offer to give you a ride," he said casually. "But I wouldn't want you getting any ideas."

She glared at him. "I'll be just fine."

"Watch out for Burt-."

"Reynolds," she finished. "I know. We've met, so don't try to scare me. I've taken the subway after midnight. I think I can handle walking home by myself."

He gave her a smirk. "You know you'd be cute if you weren't so salty. Lighten up a bit."

"You know you'd be cute if you weren't such a jerk," she mimicked him.

Not even phased, he put the car into park. "Cmon. I'll give you a ride back to the plantation."

"No thanks!" Zoe said again, more vehemently, rising wobbly to her feet, swinging the box of wine next to her.

"There's a hell of a lot more things in these woods than Burt Reynolds" he said impatiently. "Just get in the car."

When Zoe ignored him and kept walking, stumbling along in her ridiculous heels, he swore under his breath and got out of the car. It didn't take much to catch up with her.

"What are you doing?" She took a step back and tripped and almost fell.

"Just making good on a promise," he said, scooping her up and slinging her over his shoulder. She was a tiny thing, and she shrieked bloody murder and beat on his back with her fists, not phasing him a bit and making him laugh loudly as he dumped her into the front seat of the car, and went around to the driver's side, tossing the mostly empty box of wine in the backseat.

Zoe righted herself haphazardly and blew the hair out of her eyes. "Who do you think you are anyway?" she spouted off. "God's redneck gift to women?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said calmly. "People in this town don't take much to someone coming around thinking they're better than everyone else. You want to win em over, better get that stick out of your cute little ass first."

Zoe leaned in way too close to him, til their eyes were almost level across the middle console. "I knew you were looking at my ass," she said, satisfied.

"Don't flatter yourself, doc," he said, amused.

He didn't know how it happened. Well he did, but he'd deny it later. One moment she was leaning over to say something else sassy, and the next moment his tongue was in her mouth. He just wanted to shut her up, really. He expected to get punched. Or kicked in the junk, which could be dangerous considering those heels she was wearing.

What he did NOT expect was for her to climb on his lap and go to town. And holy mother of god did she go to town. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was Zoe Hart had a fire in those little shorts of hers she needed put out, but before he knew it they had a good start at ripping each other's clothes off and she was reminding him loud and clear how long it had been since he'd found any girl within 50 miles that rated more than a B+ in the sack.

She tasted like red wine and strawberry lip gloss, and the expensive perfume she wore lingered around them in a cloud that went right to his head a little more than he would have liked.

This is it, Zoe thought hazily as his hands slid up the back of her shorts and squeezed her ass and hers yanked up his tshirt and aimed for his belt next, all while their mouths practically ate each other alive. Rock bottom. She was making out with the electricity stealing jackhole from next door. Her mother would be so proud.

And this wasn't her, really. She wasn't a one night stand kind of girl. But he just made her so mad. A crazy kind of mad she wasn't sure she'd ever realized existed.

And then it happened.

Her butt hit the car horn and it played some ridiculous song. Dixie. It played Dixie.

Good god. Now, this was rock bottom.

Zoe yanked back from him abruptly and fell into the passenger seat, her shorts unbuttoned and her sweater up around her boobs, bra straps falling down.

"This never happened, you got that?" She said breathlessly.

"My lips are sealed, doc."

She buried her face in her hands.

"Thanks," she muttered. "Thanks for making a horrible day worse," she stumbled for the door handle.

Wade felt like a grade A jackass. His smirk faded, and he reached over her hand and stopped her. "I'll give you a ride home."

"Don't bother."

"I mean it. I don't need to be getting blamed for you to wander off in the woods somewhere and never come back. Although, most of the town would be okay with that right now," he added for good measure. "Especially Brick. And Lemon. You know. The stick of butter."

She scowled.

"Only if we don't talk."

"Deal."

He stared straight ahead and kept his eyes calmly on the road, pretending not to notice when she took a quick swipe at her eyes a couple times. It wasn't like he cared or anything. She'd just gotten under his skin a little bit.

"You know…" her voice trailed off.

He shook his head. "You just can't shut up, can you?"

Zoe bit her bottom lip. "Ohhhh you haven't met my mother or it would make perfect sense," her words came out in a slur. "Did you know him? Harley?"

"Course. Everyone did. He was a great man."

Zoe got real quiet again, considering his words, but she didn't ask anything else. By the time they got back to the plantation, she was passed out cold in the passenger seat. With a sigh, Wade parked the car in front of the carriage house and carried her inside, yanked back her fancy quilts and laid her down on her bed. Then he covered her with a blanket, and reached over to smooth her hair back from her face.

She never even stirred.

Wandering around the room for a bit, Wade picked up various items that she'd started unpacking. Shoes, there were shoes and clothes everywhere. There was a picture of Harley in his younger years on the bureau next to a fair-haired woman. Another picture of Zoe with some guy who looked 100% New York yuppie. So thats her type, huh? Typical. He thought with a little bit of scorn. A notebook was laid open on the table next to the bed.

It was hard not to see the first couple lines on that page.

Buy an espresso machine.

He rolled his eyes. City folks and their damn fancy coffee.

Make my father proud of me.

Something in his middle was turning around again, and he pushed the feeling away resolutely.

With a sigh, he dimmed the light switch and took one last look at Zoe Hart sprawled out on the bed, completely dead to the world. It struck him how much more young and vulnerable she looked when she was asleep. Even without the wine, he figured she had to be exhausted. It had been a hell of a couple days. But she was still here, and some part of him had to give her credit for that. Hell no, she didn't belong here. But most people would have already given up the fight.

The promise he'd made to Harley came back to him, and he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This was going to be a hell of a lot more difficult than he'd ever imagined.

"Sweet dreams, Zoe Hart."

Quietly Wade slipped out of the carriage house and back into the night.