by Terri Reed
The Tuesday of Thanksgiving week, Ross ignored the murmured voices of the nurses in the neonatal unit of the Children’s Hospital as he stared at his son in the sterile incubator, hating the tubes running out of Cameron’s small body. Useless rage choked the breath from his lungs. Ross curled and flexed his fingers. He was going to nail the person who did this to a high pole.
Despite Zach’s pressure to back off the investigation Ross had continued his search for Wendy Kates and who had paid Harcourt so much money to keep quiet about the baby girl.
The Bon Secours Richmond Community Hospital where Wendy had given birth had microfiched their records but because they dated more that forty years ago they hadn’t inputted them into a computer yet. Ross had asked Eric to go to the records department and search for Wendy’s medical records. Eric had discovered that Wendy Kates had died in childbirth. Her body had been cremated and buried in Richmond.
Another seemingly dead end.
Except one notation by the doctor, indicating there had been blunt trauma to the head, nagged at Ross. How had she sustained an injury to the head while giving birth? Had the injury occurred during delivery? Was someone trying to cover up Wendy’s death? Or had she gone into labor because of the blow to the head? Who had hit her? The unnamed father of the baby? And where was that baby now?
Questions, questions and more questions.
“Ross?”
He turned to see Trista standing just inside the neonatal unit. She was dressed in a very professional-looking two-piece dress suit with black pumps and her dark hair was pulled back into a fancy twist. Her coat was draped over her arm. Her eyes looked grim and there were lines bracketing her mouth.
He went to her and gave her a hug. “Put on a gown and come in.”
“I can’t right now. I have to be in court in a few minutes, but I need to talk with you first.”
They stepped out into the hall. The overhead lights cast a green glow over her complexion. “Are you okay?”
She made a face. “I wasn’t going to burden you with this, but I figured you should hear it from me before you hear it from someone else. Kevin’s suing me for custody of Aidan.”
Feeling as though he’d just sustained an electrical shock, Ross shook his head. “What did you say?”
“I know. It’s ludicrous, but I’m on my way to the preliminary hearing now.”
He stared at her. “When did this come about? You haven’t said anything about Kevin for months.”
She grimaced. “I didn’t want to worry you, and then Kelly had her accident and mom broke her hip—it’s just been too much for you.”
Ross ran a hand through his hair. “Kelly and Sandra went for coffee. They should be back any moment. I’ll come with you as soon as they return.”
“No,” she protested and placed a restraining hand on his arm. “I can handle this. You take care of your family.”
“But you are my family.”
“And believe me, I’m thankful you’re my big brother. But today I need to stand up for myself.”
Ross clenched his fists. “I’ll strangle him when I see him.”
One side of her mouth lifted in sardonic amusement. “I share the sentiment, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Her gaze grew earnest and beseeching. “But you could say a prayer that all goes well.”
“I will.” He hugged her again, wishing he could take care of this for her. “You call me if you want me there, okay?”
“You bet,” she assured him then glanced at her watch. “I better run. I’ll come back to see Cameron this afternoon.”
He watched his little sister walk away. He was so proud of who she’d become. For a few years she’d been so rebellious and out of control that he’d doubted she’d make it, but somewhere along the way she turned into a woman of substance.
A few moments later, Kelly, Sandra and Pastor Scott pushed through the stairwell door.
Seeing Ross in the hall, Kelly rushed forward, her arm with the broken wrist in a sling across her body. “Is Cameron okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. Trista was just here. Kevin is suing her for custody.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Can he win?” Kelly asked.
Ross shook his head. “Doubtful. He’d have to prove her an unfit mother. Which won’t happen. But still I should be there with her at the hearing.”
“Of course you should,” Sandra agreed. “I’ll stay here with Kelly and Cameron.”
“She doesn’t want me there,” Ross stated and realized that not being needed by Trista hurt a little.
“Well, someone should be there with her,” Kelly said, her gaze shifting to Scott. “Did you know about this?”
“I did,” he said. “Trista confided in me on Sunday. And as her pastor I couldn’t break that confidence.”
Ross saw the gleam in Kelly’s eyes as she tilted her head and stared at Scott. “Is that all you are to her? Her pastor?”
A flush crept up Scott’s neck. “That’s all we can be.”
“Why?” Kelly asked and planted her good hand on her hip.
“It’s complicated?” he said, almost as if he were seeking the answer himself.
Ross had a feeling there was more going on between his sister and the young pastor. And he approved. “I sure wish Trista wasn’t going through this alone.”
“She won’t be alone. I’m going over there,” Scott stated firmly.
“Go now, then,” Ross directed.
Scott nodded and headed for the elevator, his loafers making soft squishy sounds as he went.
Kelly hooked her arm through Ross’s. “Are you trying to do a little matchmaking?”
Ross gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m just looking out for the welfare of my family. And it couldn’t hurt to have a pastor on her side in the eyes of the judge.”
“Right,” Kelly agreed. “Let’s pray the judge sees the truth.”
Chapter Twelve
With its gleaming hardwood floors and arched doorways, The Chestnut Grove courthouse gave Trista an odd sense of the past. The building had been built in the late 1800s and though there had been modern updates in the plumbing and electricity, the detailed craftsmanship had maintained its beauty.
But today, Trista’s nerves were strung too tight to appreciate the architecture.
“Sit down, Trista. Pacing isn’t helping.”
Trista paused and turned her attention to her lawyer, Nora Daley. Trim, professional and sharp-eyed, Nora exuded controlled confidence. Her blond bob framed her oval face and bright green eyes to perfection. Her smart-looking tweed pantsuit was stylish yet understated. Trista wished she could be as calm, but Nora’s life wasn’t on the line. If Trista lost Aidan, she didn’t think she could handle it. Please, Lord, let this end well.
“I’m too keyed up to sit,” Trista said as she resumed her pacing. In ten minutes they would go before the judge. Trista shivered with dread and apprehension. No matter how much Nora reassured her, she still felt vulnerable.
It was just like Kevin to use his family’s money and influence to push the hearing up so soon. What if the judge decided Kevin would be a better provider for Aidan? Her stomach rolled with dread.
To stay sane and to avoid heaving what little she’d managed to eat that morning all over the floor, she shoved that thought away. She was armed with her journal and she would make sure the judge knew Kevin’s true motives for his actions today.
“Trista.”
She spun around to find Scott walking toward her, looking good in his tan suit and geometric patterned tie. Her heart did a double take and pleasure at seeing him leaped through her. “What are you doing here?”
“Your brother asked if I’d come and offer my support,” he replied.
“Oh.” Disappointment dampened her joy. He was here simply out of duty. Her pastor, her friend. Nothing more. “That was sweet of him and sweet of you for coming.”
“He’s worried about you,” he said.
She searched his g
aze, hoping to see his feelings about her, but his direct gaze was sincere and polite. She acknowledged his words about Ross with a nod. “Scott, this is my lawyer, Nora Daley. Nora, Pastor Scott Crosby.”
Nora rose and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Pastor. It certainly won’t hurt to have you here.”
“Good. I want to help in any way I can,” Scott replied.
The door to the courtroom opened and the uniformed officer motioned for them to enter.
Trista’s stomach rebelled and for a panicked moment she was sure she was going to throw up. Scott’s comforting touch at the small of her back calmed and settled her as he guided her into the room. She followed Nora to one of the tables at the front facing the judge’s bench. Scott sat on the bench behind her.
Another man came in a moment later and moved to the other table. Trista recognized the man as Kevin’s lawyer, Ted Argus. In his midfifties and balding, Ted resembled one of Trista’s high school teachers.
Trista glanced at the door wondering why Kevin hadn’t arrived yet. Typical. The man had no regard for anyone else’s time. Not even a judge’s.
When Judge Harvey Komorow entered the room a few minutes later and took his seat behind the huge wooden bench, Kevin still hadn’t shown.
“Hughes vs Van Zandt in the custody of Aidan Hughes,” the judge intoned as he read from the document in front of him. He looked up, his lined face falling into a frown. “Is the petitioner and the respondent here?”
Nora stood and replied, “The respondent is, Your Honor.”
Ted slowly rose, his gaze darting to the door. “Uh, Your Honor, I’d like to request a continuance.”
Judge Komorow raised his bushy black-and-silver eyebrows. “Am I to take it the petitioner is a no-show?”
Ted tried not to grimace, but his uncertainty was clear. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, Your Honor. This is very important to my client.”
The judge huffed. “Well, if it were important then I would assume your client would be here.” Judge Komorow turned his attention to Trista. “Are you the mother?”
On shaky legs, Trista rose. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“And the child in question lives with you currently?”
“That is correct, Your Honor.”
The judge shifted his attention back to Ted. “Mr. Argus. I suggest the next time you choose to take up this court’s time, you will make sure your client is present. Is there anyone here who would like to speak on behalf of either party?”
“I would, Your Honor,” Scott said as he stood.
Trista’s heart melted to her ankles.
“And you are?” the judge asked.
“Pastor Scott Crosby of Chestnut Grove Community Church,” Scott replied, his voice clear and strong.
“Well, Pastor Crosby, speak.”
“I would like the court to know that Trista Van Zandt is a loving and devoted mother. Aidan is well cared for. Trista is a caring and generous woman. This court should not even contemplate taking Aidan from his mother.”
Trista’s eyes misted at the unexpectedness of Scott’s words.
Judge Komorow inclined his head. “Duly noted. Now, Mr. Argus. Since your client still has not shown and I see nothing in these documents to support a change of custody, it is the ruling of this court that the petition for sole custody filed by Kevin Hughes be dismissed.” The judge banged his gavel and departed.
Swamped with relief, Trista sagged back into the chair as soon as the judge disappeared. The ordeal was over. Thankfully, Kevin had shown his true colors.
“Well, that was easy,” Nora stated as she picked up her briefcase.
“Thank you,” Trista said, tears burning at the back of her eyelids.
“Honey, don’t thank me. Your ex shot himself in the foot. The court has a long memory and will use his actions today against him in the future if he tries this again,” Nora replied. Scott moved to stand beside Trista. Nora inclined her head. “Pastor, it was nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Scott replied.
Nora waved goodbye and left the courtroom. Scott held out his hand to Trista. “Let’s celebrate.”
Trista took Scott’s hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. With regret, she said, “I can’t. I have to get back to work.”
“Right.”
“Thank you for today. I’ve never had someone other than Ross ever stand up for me.” She squeezed his hand with affection. “I can’t begin to tell you how much that means to me.”
“I care about you and Aidan,” he stated, his gaze direct.
The little girl inside of her jumped with joy. He said he cared! She swallowed back the yearning to have him take her in his arms. Just because he cared didn’t mean anything more than that. “I…we care about you. You’re a good pastor and a dear friend.”
One side of his mouth tilted up and he released her hand. “Right. Glad to be of service.”
As they left the building, Trista had the uneasy feeling that she’d somehow offended Scott.
She wished how he felt didn’t matter to her so much.
Thanksgiving Day arrived in a flurry of activity for Scott as the church prepared to feed the homeless. First he helped the youth set up rented banquet tables and chairs in the youth center.
Townspeople arrived to help serve the food, and a line of the homeless and poverty-stricken formed outside the building. The freezing temperatures made Scott take action. He had Jonas Fraser and Alex Donovan usher the people into the sanctuary where it was warmer to wait.
As the morning turned into afternoon, Scott’s thoughts returned to Trista again and again. His pulse always picked up speed when he thought of her. He hoped her visit with her mother was going well. She’d been nervous about taking Aidan there when he’d talked with her last night.
Although he’d used the excuse of the church dinner to call her, he’d really just wanted to hear her voice. He enjoyed the soothing tones and the way talking to her came so easily.
And when it came time to say goodbye, he hadn’t wanted to hang up. He was becoming attached to her. And to Aidan.
That was a problem.
She only thought of him as her pastor and friend. He’d set that boundary himself for both their sakes, but the more he got to know her, the more he wanted to be with her. Now he wanted to erase the boundary and start over.
He wanted her to see him not only as a pastor and friend, but as a man.
“Hey, Scott.” Eric Pellegrino called from the doorway of the youth center. “We need some help in the kitchen.”
Scott hefted his end of a table into place. “Be right there.”
He left the teens to finish up and followed Eric into the kitchen where covered dishes donated by the church members filled all the available counter space. Scott recognized Mrs. Lumly’s flowered Crock-Pot and he hoped the green dish was Mrs. Avery’s sweet potato pie.
Scott had learned after the first year not to sample too many of the dishes because he’d end up feeling like a stuffed turkey.
Eric’s girlfriend, Samantha smiled her super-model smile. Tall, gray-eyed, the former model had returned home to small-town life not that long ago. “As you can see, we have an abundance of food and thought maybe we should start putting some out on the tables. But we weren’t sure if you had a specific order or plan in mind.”
“Whatever you two think will work best is fine. I’ll send the kids in to help,” Scott replied, his stomach rumbling from all the delicious smells wafting up from the dishes.
He left Eric and Samantha to their work and then sent several teens in to help.
“How about we put the buffet tables along the back wall,” said Reverend Fraser.
“That’d be great,” Scott replied. “Jeremy and Andy, can you help?” Scott called to two of the older teens. Between the four of them, they made short work of placing the tables.
Naomi gathered a patchwork selection of loaned tablecloths to put on the buffet tables. She set to work as soon as the tables
were set.
“Hello, hello.” Sandra Lange breezed in rolling a cart full of pies in front of her. “I hope fifty pumpkin pies will be enough.”
“Plenty,” Naomi said and directed Sandra to the last buffet table. “We’ll have them start at the other end and finish here with your pies.”
Scott went to the kitchen and gave the go-ahead for food to be brought out.
Soon the buffet table was laden with savory foods and behind each dish stood a church member ready and waiting to begin serving. Excitement bubbled in the air. Scott motioned for Alex to escort in the masses. Hungry men, women and children of all ages formed a line at the front of the buffet table.
Reverend Fraser and Scott walked around visiting with the people as they took their plates to the table to eat, offering encouragement and prayer. A reporter and photographer from the local newspaper were in attendance, as well, snapping pictures as the reporter interviewed several people.
Scott kept an eye on the door, expecting to see Trista arrive. Finally he noticed her standing just inside the doorway, holding Aidan. His heart tightened with gladness. Her gaze searched the crowd and landed on him. Her face broke out in a smile and she waved. He hurried to her side.
“Hi. I’m so glad you came,” he said.
She gave him a tentative smile. “Me, too.” Aidan pumped his chubby legs and wiggled in her arms. “I should get him to the nursery.”
“Let’s go. Several of the high school girls are watching the little ones. They’re all very responsible kids,” he assured her as he led the way to the nursery where one of the teens, Nikki, took Aidan and cooed over him.
“This okay?” Scott asked Trista, waiting to see if she’d be okay with the arrangement.
After a moment, she nodded. “He loves all the attention and everyone seems to love him.”
Scott sure did. He’d fallen for the little tyke the first time he’d seen him.
Satisfied that Trista was okay leaving Aidan in the high schooler’s care, he led her back toward the youth center. “So tell me how your visit with your mother went.”
Trista’s smile lit up the hallway as she stopped. “Really well. Mom fawned over Aidan. I thought at first she might have been confused, thinking that Aidan was Ross as a baby, but then she told me I did good and that she knew I’d be a good mother.”
