A kind of numb calm came over her. “But you didn’t think it would go that far.”
“There’s no reason, but somehow reason has been removed from this process.” He cleared his throat. “Nevertheless, Miss Hayes, I want you to rest assured that the twins will not be removed from your care. I’ve gone over and over laws and cases and this just doesn’t happen.”
She gripped the phone. “Has it ever happened?”
“Excuse me?”
“Has there ever been a situation where a contested adoption went wrong?”
“Uh, yes. I did see one instance.”
“What was the circumstance?”
“A rogue judge.”
****
Lucy gripped Stephen’s hand, needing his support. Her heart hammered as she walked into the lobby of the building where her uncle’s office was located. She paused before the elevator doors and cast a look of appeal toward Stephen.
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m here for you.”
She nodded, wondering why her stomach twisted. Travis deserved to have his guns spiked for abandoning her, so why did she quail when it came to the point? Her uncle called, saying he’d been assigned to the Hayes case, and she had no trouble hearing his underlying hint for a fresh infusion of funds.
With her other hand, she gripped her purse, thinking of the envelope stuffed with cash. It had taken a bit of financial gymnastics to liquidate some assets, but with Stephen’s encouragement, she’d done it. In fact, without his constant, gentle presence helping her along, quashing her doubts, she might have given up.
The ride up to the third floor of the building made her stomach lurch another way. She felt sweat beading on her upper lip as she approached his office door. Inside, the secretary looked up as they entered.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Nathan’s niece. He said he wanted to see me.”
The secretary buzzed the judge, then waved them to the inner door.
Lucy blew out a breath and entered her uncle’s chambers. He rose at her entrance, his beetled brows inching up his forehead at the sight of her friend.
“Hi, Uncle Nathan. This is my friend Stephen—” She decided to avoid mentioning his last name, for reasons she couldn’t identify at the moment. Her uncle’s narrowed gaze confirmed that he noticed the omission.
Doubt swelled again within in her—that she was taking this revenge thing too seriously—and that any kind of deal-making with her uncle was a bad idea.
“Got yourself a new pretty boy real quick,” he said. “Thought you were so in love with your doctor friend.”
His words felt like a slap in the face. Anger stiffened her spine. “That’s none of your business.”
“‘Course it is,” he barked. “Everything’s my business.”
Lucy pulled out the envelope and slid it across his desk. “You’re being paid to hear this case, not ask personal questions.”
Her uncle’s beady eyes fastened on the envelope. He looked up at her, his face a mottled red. “You sure you know what you’re doing? I’ll disavow anything to do with you regardless of the family connection.”
He would. She suppressed a shudder. “Yes, I understand.”
The money disappeared from the desk like magic. Lucy didn’t know the man could move that fast.
“I ain’t guaranteeing anything. I’m just agreeing to hear the case.”
She wondered, not for the first time, how he’d made his way through college, much less a judgeship. His speech gave no indication of any education. He acted more like a brutal thug.
“Don’t worry,” Stephen piped up from behind, “there’s plenty of evidence that will come out that the Hayes woman is parentally unfit.”
Her uncle stared at him from his small, mean eyes. She glanced at Stephen, wishing he hadn’t spoken. His red face looked like he agreed.
“What’s it to you?” the judge demanded. “Got some kind of interest in the case?”
“Uncle Nathan, he’s just being supportive.” She squeezed Stephen’s hand, hoping he’d take the hint to be quiet. “So, when’s the hearing?”
“In two weeks, on the fourteenth.” A sneer curled his lip. “You gonna be there to watch a mother be separated from her children?” His gaze shot to Stephen. “Ought to be right entertaining.”
Stephen’s face turned even redder. Lucy wished she hadn’t brought him. But without him, she probably wouldn’t have made it this far. “See you on the fourteenth.” With Stephen at her side, she strode from the office.
Once they were outside on the street, she closed her eyes. “I have a feeling I just made a big mistake.”
Stephen turned her to face him, his hands on his shoulders. “No way, Lucy. Think about Emma. She doesn’t have any trouble swooping into town and stealing Travis. And your uncle will find out the secret truth of her past. Those little girls deserve someone who isn’t a heartless manipulator. They deserve real love.”
Lucy gazed into his earnest blue eyes. Real love. Do I even know what that means?
17
Who has gathered up the wind in the hollow of his hands?
-Proverb 30:4
Travis sat in his living room, staring at the TV, not caring what was on. He felt deflated with Emma’s lack of trust in him. But it was his own fault for hoping again, for trying to pick up where they’d left off.
She doesn’t want you, cowboy. Not then, not now. Get it through your thick skull.
Anger churned in his gut that someone was contesting custody. He’d like to have a little chat with the couple who dared try to break up a family. His fists ached with a need for release.
Travis blew out a ragged sigh, struggling to put a more positive, faith-inspired spin on the turmoil within. No matter how Emma felt about him personally, he could pray.
Dear Lord, You know my heart and how I thought I was given a second chance with Emma. Please help me get through this disappointment. And Lord, take care of her and those precious little girls. Let good win out.
As he breathed an amen, a new thought occurred to him. This situation needed to be bathed in prayer. He picked up the phone and called Charlotte Evans.
“Evening, Mrs. Evans. This is Travis and I have a request for the church prayer chain.”
****
When the doorbell rang, Emma experienced a familiar feeling of dread. Don’t be so negative, maybe it’s the Publisher’s Clearing House with a million dollar check...even though you’ve never entered.
She shrugged off the nonsensical thought and went to the door. Charlotte Evans stood on the other side of the threshold.
“Mrs. Evans! Come in. What brings you here?” Emma frowned at the thought of the elderly woman climbing all those stairs. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Yes, a glass of water will do me fine.”
“Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” Emma rushed to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. She poured it over crushed ice in a large tumbler and brought it to Charlotte.
The woman took a long drink before setting the glass on the coffee table. “Where are your girls?”
“Napping.”
Emma braced herself for whatever she had to say. When Charlotte was in the mix, there was sure to be trouble.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I came.”
“You’re welcome here any time, Mrs. Evans.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes bright. “I found out that there are some legal problems to do with the twins.”
Travis! The blabbermouth! “Um, yes, but my lawyer assures me everything will work out.”
Charlotte snorted. “Lawyers, smawyers. What will really help is prayer. I’m the prayer chain committee chair and after the request came through, the church has decided to hold a special prayer service on behalf of you and the girls.
Unexpected tears flooded her eyes. Emma blinked them away. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”
“It’s not thoughtful, it’s
war. And we mean to win it.”
Emma smiled. “When is the service?”
“Thursday night at seven. We’ll expect you to come.”
“Of course.”
Charlotte rose to her feet. “Well, that’s that, then. You being a bit of a slippery fish, I was afraid if I called on the phone you might not be so easily persuaded.”
Emma refrained from rolling her eyes. Slippery fish indeed. “You afraid, Mrs. Evans? Impossible.”
The older woman grinned and held out her arm. “Some assistance please. I spent everything I had getting up the stairs and will need a bit of help getting back down.”
Emma walked alongside Charlotte, taking the steps slowly. At the bottom, Charlotte patted her cheek and climbed into the passenger side of a car she didn’t recognize. An equally elderly lady sat in the driver’s seat, her tall beehive hairdo squished against the ceiling of the car. She smiled.
“That’s Janey, my prayer partner. Between the two of us, and the rest of the church, we’ll make sure everything works out God’s way.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma,” Janey said, her frosted orange lips curved in a kind smile.
Emma nodded and assisted Charlotte into the seat. After the pair drove off, Emma went up to the deck. Instead of going back inside the house, she stood staring out to sea.
How strange for Charlotte to come over herself. Something doesn’t fit there.
Then it hit her.
Travis called in the request, but wouldn’t come to tell me about the meeting.
A dark cloud blotted the warmth of the day. And I don’t blame him one bit.
****
The prayer service had drawn much of the congregation. Emma found herself surprised by the attendance. Adults and children wove among the pews as the pastor looked over his notes while sitting in a chair facing the congregation. He glanced up and smiled, waving her and the twins over.
Emma gripped the girls’ hands and walked to the front of the sanctuary. “Thank you, Pastor Kean. This really means a lot.”
“Not a problem.” He reached out and tickled Kendra. “We love these little girls and want to keep them around.”
She sat down and pulled them onto her lap.
“In a few minutes I’ll make the announcement that we’re to begin and you can explain what the situation is—as much as you feel comfortable. Then we’ll have a time of prayer.”
Emma nodded. She wondered if Travis would come. Of course he’ll come. He probably arranged the whole thing.
Her musing was interrupted when the pastor stood and raised his hands. “If everyone will find their seats, we’ll get started.” He paused and looked around. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. After the service, refreshments will be served in the meeting hall. For those of you who have yet to meet one of the newest members of our congregation, allow me to introduce Emma Hayes and her daughters Kendra and Katrina, the reason we’re meeting tonight.”
Emma stood and turned to face those assembled, holding the girls close to mask her nervousness. She smiled, her gaze scanning the crowd. She recognized most of the faces, including the redoubtable Charlotte Evans. Once again, her heart swelled with thankfulness to be part of such a caring and generous group.
“Why don’t you explain a little about the situation we’ll be praying for tonight?” The pastor held out the microphone.
“Thank you all for coming. This means so much to me and the girls.” She took a deep breath, noticing one face remained missing. Where’s Travis?“Well, um, a couple I’ve never met are contesting my legal adoption of the twins. It seems to boil down to the fact that they saw them on the website and want them, regardless that they’re no longer available for adoption.”
“Monstrous!” someone said in the back.
“My attorney is confident they have no legal bearing, but prayers will make all the difference—”
Travis entered the sanctuary. Emma stared at him, then looked away, unable to bear his flat expression. He didn’t even smile.
“If you’ll just have a seat here in the chair, Emma, then all who wish can gather round to pray. Before we start, I’d like to read a passage of scripture. I’m sure you’re all familiar with the story of Jesus and the disciples in a boat during a storm, so feel free to join me in the book of Luke if you have your Bibles.” He opened his and began to read.
“One day Jesus said to his disciples, "Let's go over to the other side of the lake." So they got into a boat and set out. As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Master, Master, we're going to drown!" He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. "Where is your faith?" he asked his disciples.”
Pastor Kean closed his Bible. “We are often told to have hope that Jesus can calm the storm, but I want to look at this from a different angle. We see that Jesus told the disciples to get in the boat and cross the sea. They obeyed. A storm came up. They freaked out.” He smiled. “As we all do from time to time. What I want to show is that the disciples were in God’s will during the storm.
“Too often we see storms as some kind of punishment that we’re in the wrong. We begin to doubt that we’ve made the right choice when a bit of rain comes our way.
“Emma, you adopted these girls at God’s guiding. You don’t have to doubt that you’re in His will because a storm has come up. God is certainly aware of it and wants us to have faith that He’s aware.”
Emma nodded, hating the memory of Stephen’s cruel words, wishing she had complete assurance that she was supposed to have the girls. She glanced at Travis. His implacable features made her sigh.
“Now, with our hearts full of faith and trust, let us pray.”
Emma closed her eyes and bowed her head, snuggling the girls close. Several hands descended onto her shoulders as prayers began to pour forth, for safety, justice, faith, and wisdom, encouraging her heart and spirit.
She tried to pray on her own, but her throat clogged with emotion and words evaporated from her mind. Emma focused on the prayers sent up for her, piggybacking on the strength and confidence of the petitioners for now.
****
As the days passed, Emma tried to tell herself that Travis’ absence from her life was for the best. The fact that he hadn’t approached her after the prayer service was telling.
Let’s face it. I’m a mess and he’s too chivalrous, hence the problem. What do they call it these days? Co-dependently dysfunctional? As time goes on, the pain will lessen and Travis will realize he’s well out of it. Some deserving female who actually has something to offer will sweep him off his feet and he’ll say 'Emma who?'
She endeavored to ignore her enforced heartbreak with ruthlessness—but it wasn’t always that easy. The girls should’ve kept her busy and helped her move on from thoughts of Travis, but somehow they reminded her of him. His compassion for them, all the toys and suckers.
Maybe the only sucker is me.
Two days before the hearing date, the girls awoke crying and feverish. Once again, Emma ran the emotional gamut from frantic worry to reasonable explanations. She gave them children’s pain reliever and kept an eye on them for the morning. By the afternoon, their fevers had worsened and they’d become lethargic.
With shaking hands, Emma dialed Travis’s clinic. They gave her the last appointment of the day. She arrived at the clinic out of breath with worry, fear for the girls eclipsing her dread of Travis and the way she’d hurt him.
After the nurse brought her to the exam room and took the twins’ temperatures, Emma sat in silent dismay. Something didn’t feel right with them. Somehow she knew whatever plagued them was worse than the garden variety illness.
When Travis strode into the room, she felt an instant measure of relief, despite the fact he wore the same shuttered expression as he had during the prayer service.
“Looks like the girls aren
’t feeling too good today,” he said without preamble. Kendra held out her arms to him. He scooped her up and gave her a hug before setting her back down. Emma nodded, her heart pounding at his nearness. She described their symptoms as he readied an otoscope.
“Let’s have a peek in their ears.”
Travis sat on the stool and rolled toward her until his knees touched hers. She swallowed at the contact, but held Katrina still while he looked in her ears. He checked her eyes, tongue and throat as well, repeating all with Kendra.
Abruptly he rolled away and stood. With their charts spread out on the exam table, Travis scribbled notes.
Emma tried to discern something from his features. “Is anything wrong?” she asked, hating the quaver in her voice.
He turned to her, his gaze hooded. “I’d like to do more blood work.”
Poor kids. “Okay.”
“There’s been a slight elevation in their temps for a while now, and along with a few other symptoms presenting today, I want to dig a little deeper and see if there’s an underlying cause. We don’t want to miss anything.”
“Do—do you think there’s any reason to worry?”
Travis sent her a tight smile. “Sometimes in treating the symptoms, we can miss the actual illness until it festers so long it finally comes to a head.”
Emma nodded, her heart twisting. “And?”
“It’s time to get aggressive. Band-Aids only work for awhile.”
She looked down, avoiding his steady gaze. Band-Aids? Swallowing, she glanced up. “Um, what then?”
He closed the charts. “After the results of the blood work, we’ll go from there.” He put his hands in his pockets and pulled out two suckers.
Kendra reached out for one, but merely held onto it, apparently too tired to open the wrapper. Katrina tucked her head into Emma’s shoulder, obviously uninterested.
Travis touched each of their little shoulders and smiled into their eyes. “Can’t even be lured by a little sweetness, huh? You must not feel good.”
Texas Whirlwind Page 16
