Texas Whirlwind

by Bonnie Blythe

  The judge, his face more florid than ever, stared daggers at her. “I call for a recess. This court will reconvene Thursday at one in the afternoon.” He slammed his gavel down again before standing and striding from the bench.

  “Miss Hayes,” her lawyer said in a tortured voice, “it’s imperative that you let me do my job. Believe me, I understand how you feel, but there are guidelines.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Belling, but I’m so angry!”

  “I can truly appreciate your anger, but unless you’re willing to trust me implicitly to handle this through proper channels, I’ll have to ask to your find other counsel.”

  Emma bit her lip, wondering if her attempt at bravado might’ve cost her the twins. Way to go, Emma. You’re a real piece of work. But hearing the itemization of her failures had stung. “I’m sorry. Please stay. I need your help and I promise to keep quiet from here on out.”

  He regarded her for a moment before nodding his head. “Okay.” He scooped up his paperwork and slid it into his briefcase. “Hang tight. We’re going to work this out.”

  As he turned to leave, Emma stood and grabbed her purse. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the plaintiffs. When she turned and raised her eyes, she saw Travis, standing, staring at her. Formulating what to say to explain her horrible performance in court, she opened her mouth. Travis leaned forward, gripping the wooden railing, until his head was inches from her own. His dark eyes seemed to burn with some inner light.

  “Marry me, Emma.”

  20

  Wind or rain or starry heaven.

  —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  “It’s a perfect solution, Emma Hayes, and I can’t imagine why you’re fighting it.”

  Emma spun around to stare at Charlotte leaning on her cane, sending her a beady look. Her gaze sliced to Travis where he stood in her living room regarding her with an inscrutable expression.

  Swallowing, Emma cleared her throat. “Again, Travis, I appreciate the gesture, I really do.”

  “It’s not a gesture, Emma.”

  Her heart twisted like a wet rag. The strain of the hearing combined with Travis’s outrageous idea made her head swim.

  Charlotte headed for the door. “I’ll let you two work this out, but Emma, you’ll be even a worse fool than when you left the first time.”

  Emma gasped—a retort springing to her lips.

  Travis crossed the room to Charlotte’s side. His voice was cool. “Pardon me, Mrs. Evans, but that was uncalled for. It won’t help matters any to upset Emma no matter how you feel about this situation.”

  As he helped her to the car where Rosemary waited, Emma spun on her heel and went into the twin’s bedroom. The girls lay tangled together amid rainbow print bedding, their little mouths open as they slept.

  New worries assailed her after the disastrous hearing. Why had things gone as far as they had? Her lawyer had been certain this would be nothing to worry about. Her confidence was shaken, especially after hearing the record of her pathetic past—a record she couldn’t deny.

  She reached out to touch Kendra’s hand. It was hot.

  Oh, no.

  “Emma.”

  She turned at the sound of Travis’s voice. Before he could speak, she motioned to Kendra.

  “She feels hot.” She touched Katrina’s arm and felt the same heat radiating from her skin. “They both do.”

  Travis reached out and touched the back of his hand on both girls. “They do feel warm, but Rosemary said they started coughing a few hours ago. It’s probably just a cold, but bring them in tomorrow and we’ll take a closer look. If anything happens to concern you before then, you can call me.”

  “What time should I bring them in?”

  “Call Wendy and tell her what I said. We’ll work you in sometime in the afternoon.”

  Emma rubbed her face, struggling to hold rising hysteria at bay. “Could it have anything to do with that other condition?”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll take a look tomorrow.”

  She nodded and headed back to the living room. Travis followed, and when she turned to face him, his expression was closed, his gaze steady.

  “Emma, I’m sorry about Charlotte’s sharp tongue.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a listless shrug. “It’s just one more failure to add to the list we heard earlier today.”

  Travis approached her and put his hands on her arms. “I want you to consider my proposal, Emma. I really think it would put any doubts to rest about your fitness to parent—”

  She began to sputter. He put up his hand.

  “Not that there’s any real issue—but in the eyes of the judge it may make a difference.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  His expression became tense. “Then do it for your children.”

  “Travis, that’s just about as low a blow as what Charlotte said. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the girls, but I can’t marry you to placate some bad judge!”

  He stared at her for several moments, his grip on her arms firm. “You can’t deny that we have feelings for each other. Am I really asking you to do something so distasteful? Besides, you know I love the girls.”

  But how could you love me? I’m such a screw-up that I need an excuse to get married!

  She studied his face, the planes and hollows of his features, his compelling dark eyes, the grim set to his lips. She would like nothing more than to marry him, but not for some bizarre reasoning that seemed to exclude love. “You know that at some point the novelty of this noble deed will wear off and you’ll find yourself resenting it, Travis.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I do.”

  He smiled suddenly. “Those are the two words I hope you’ll say to me in three days. If we get the license today, we can be married Thursday morning, with the deed done before we arrive back to court later that afternoon.”

  She frowned, her heart pounding in her ears. “This isn’t a joke.”

  His smile disappeared. “No, it isn’t. It’s deadly serious.”

  The doorbell rang. Emma closed her eyes briefly before heading to the front door. She opened it to find a woman in a business suit and clipboard standing on the porch. She had startling green eyes and course brown hair pulled back in a stiff bun.

  “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “My name is Maya Stokes and I’m with the Department of Family and Protective Services. There’s been a report of neglect regarding children living at these premises. I’m here to investigate.”

  Emma’s gripped the door jamb. “What?”

  “We received an anonymous call and are responding according to Family Code 261.101 with cause to believe that two children’s physical or mental health or welfare have been adversely affected by abuse or neglect.” She glanced at her clipboard. “Are you Emmaline T. Hayes, legal guardian of Kendra and Katrina Hayes?”

  “Yes,” she said faintly. “Does...does this have something to do with the lawsuit?”

  The woman looked at her clipboard. “This investigation will be conducted without regard to any pending suit affecting the parent-child relationship.”

  “Then I don’t understand. Who called?”

  The woman firmed her lips. “It was an anonymous call.”

  Could the plaintiffs stoop to such a level? They must have. There can be no other source! Oh, God!

  Travis walked up behind her. “What’s going on, Emma?”

  She wearily waved her hand in the woman’s direction. “An investigation of neglect of the twins.”

  “What!” He moved past her to the threshold. “What’s going on?”

  The woman repeated her intention. Travis turned to Emma. “Maybe you should get your lawyer here first before you allow this to happen.”

  She shook her head and stepped aside. “Ms. Stokes, please come in. I’ll cooperate fully with whatever you need.”

  Travis whispered fiercely in her ear. “This is a sham! Call your l
awyer. You don’t have to go through with this!”

  “It will look worse if I refuse.”

  “I disagree.”

  She moved away and followed the woman to where she stood in the middle of the living room. Travis strode into the kitchen and picked up the phone.

  Holding out her hand, she smiled wanly. “Call me Emma. They’re sleeping right now. Would you like to see them?”

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions first, if I may.”

  Emma nodded. “But can I know what the exact charges are? I mean, what kind of neglect was reported?” The implications sickened her, and the possible consequences made her dizzy.

  “That’s confidential, I’m afraid. How long have you had custody of the twins?”

  “This was an open adoption. Since it’s all a matter of public record, surely you can access that information yourself.”

  The woman’s face reddened. “I need to hear it from you for confirmation.”

  Emma tried not to let her growing feeling of impotent fury show. She gave the woman all the pertinent information and offered to show her all the documentation, vaguely aware of Travis speaking in hushed tones on the phone.

  Ms. Stokes nodded, “We’ll get to that later. Now, I’d like to see the girls.”

  Her heart skipped several beats. She swallowed and led the way to the bedroom. When she went through their bedroom door, Kendra had awakened. Kendra looked up and sent her a beautiful smile and held out her arms. “Momma!”

  Emma picked her up and hugged her tight, noting the warmth of her skin. Kendra coughed a couple of times. Great, the girls are sick while I’m being investigated. Maybe the fact that my girls inhaled a virus reflects on me as neglect. She closed her eyes for a moment, struggling to hold her growing despair at bay.

  Unable to stand as tension mounted within her, she sat on the side of the bed, settling Kendra in her lap. The movement on the bed stirred Katrina, who popped her head up and stared wide-eyed at the stranger.

  “I’m right here, Sweetie.”

  Katrina twisted around and crawled out from under the sheet, snuggling up with her sister, letting out a string of coughs that sounded worse than her twin.

  The woman edged away. “They sound sick. Why haven’t you taken them to a doctor?”

  “I’m their doctor.” Travis entered the room behind her and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Is this some kind of house call?”

  “You could say that,” he said, his voice flat. “They have an appointment to visit me at my clinic tomorrow.”

  The woman raised her brow. “And your name is?”

  “Dr. Travis Taylor of Roberts Family Medicine.”

  She scribbled the information on the paperwork attached to the clipboard.

  Emma took a deep breath, squeezing the girls a little tighter. “Do you need to examine the twins now?”

  Clearing her throat, Ms. Stokes looked up. “That can wait until they’re well.” She glanced around the room, apparently looking for evidence of who knew what. “I’ll need to see the girls’ medical records.”

  “Of course.” Emma glanced at Travis. “Whatever they want, let them have it, okay?”

  He nodded, obviously displeased with the whole scenario.

  Ms. Stokes held her clipboard against her chest. “Well, I think that will be all for now. With the twins’ medical doctor present, I think it’s obvious that they’re not in any danger at the moment.”

  Emma bit her lip hard against a barrage of protests at the cruel assumption.

  “From here, our department will formally conduct the remainder of the investigation. You will be asked for all records pertaining to the twins. After review, Texas statute states that review will be complete by two weeks from today.” She straightened and looked at Emma directly. “If the review finds the accusations correct, the twins will be removed from your care and placed in foster care until the courts direct otherwise. Do you have any questions?”

  Emma shrank back, inwardly wincing at the veiled threat. She shook her head, struggling to control her breathing.

  “Thank you for your time.”

  Travis reached down and picked up Katrina, and together they walked the woman to the front door. As she descended the steps and drove away, Emma looked up at Travis, noticing the deep furrow between his brows, the grim line of his lips. Thank you, Lord, that he was here.

  He glanced down at her, his expression tense. “Now do you understand why we should get married? It’s for the girls.”

  For the girls.

  Suddenly fear rose up like bile and choked off rational thinking. A future without the twins was beyond bearing; even a glimpse of it was like a yawning blackness threatening to consume her. All her worries, horror, and dread of the unknown effervesced within her in a noxious cloud.

  She gazed up at Travis, clutched at Kendra, and took a deep breath.

  “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  21

  ...as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes.

  –Milton

  Emma stared at the ceiling fan above her bed, her swirling thoughts echoing the motion of the blades. What have I done? Am I out of my mind? Do I really have any choice?

  She closed her eyes against the murky morning light creeping into the room. Today is my wedding day and all I want to do is curl up under the covers and cry.

  Emma dashed away one of the straggling tears that had appeared throughout the course of the night and heaved herself to a sitting position. Once again, the twins had found their way to her bed. She gazed down at their peaceful features, longing for that same sense of peace. Since she’d made her decision to marry Travis, a fresh tumult of confusion churned within her heart and mind.

  Wonder what Travis will think when the girls climb into bed with us. She sucked in a breath. What am I thinking? Surely we won’t be sleeping together. This is a marriage in name only, right?

  Emma called herself a coward for not having the guts to ask him about the exact arrangements. From the moment she’d agreed to the hasty wedding, plans had been set in motion in a frantic flurry that left her breathless. Travis seemed unruffled—though remote—through it all. He’d obtained the marriage license, arranged the appointment for the ceremony to take place in the pastor’s office, and seemed to take in stride the fact that he was about to be a husband and father.

  All the pain without the pleasure. Stephen’s words wormed their way into her mind, making her feel ill. She slid from the bed and headed to the shower.

  When she emerged fifteen minutes later, she found the girls still asleep. They were on the mend from what Travis had officially deemed a minor cold. A part of her was thankful that their colds had served to keep the social worker standoffish.

  In fact, Emma hadn’t heard from the Department of Family and Protective Services since their visit. Her lawyer had been outraged and promised to do an investigation of his own. She shook her head, still dumbfounded at the sequence of events that had assailed her since arriving in Galveston only a few months earlier.

  But then she wouldn’t have run into Travis. Emma walked to the window and looked out at the incoming storm—black clouds boiled up against the horizon, turning the Gulf to a choppy dark mass of water. God, where is Your peace? I’m so confused. The more I pray, the worse I feel. I need Your guidance!

  She glanced at the clock and sighed. I have to be at the church at nine. Two hours until my life is forever changed—for better...

  Or for worse.

  ****

  Travis was tempted to monitor his heart rate. At its current level, he might be a candidate for a heart attack. He checked his watch again and blew out a breath, stifling the urge to fidget.

  In the pastor’s office, where the deed was to be done, he stood with Gary and Charlotte who would act as witnesses. Rosemary was present to keep watch over the twins during the necessarily short ceremony. Gary looked more nervous than he, while Charlotte stood ramrod straight, her chin high. The pastor flippe
d through his notes, occasionally checking his watch as well.

  Okay, Emma. Now would be a good time to show up. Travis glanced at the door that stood ajar waiting for her to return from the bathroom. Earlier, she seemed resigned to the whole ordeal—which wasn’t particularly flattering. Travis closed his eyes for the barest moment, wishing his conscience would calm down. Feelings of guilt and shame fought for dominance within him.

  He knew she was acting under duress, a situation he used to press his own advantage. But it’s in the best interest of the girls. The notion of Kendra and Katrina—who now sat with Rosemary in fluffy pink matching dresses—being taken from Emma wasn’t worth considering. But is it fair to Emma?

  Travis knew the answer to that one, but the part of his heart that had never healed from their earlier relationship still pained him, reminding him that she had the power to hurt him all over again. The size of the stone in the wedding ring he’d purchased probably testified to the size of his agitation. Although I know she has feelings for me, does she love me? If I confessed that I loved her, would she reject me all over again?

  I’m a coward!

  The door to the pastor’s office opened and Emma slowly entered. He eased a silent breath between his teeth. Maybe, but a desperate coward.

  She wore a sleeveless pink linen dress without any other adornment. Her hair had been pulled up into a stylish twist, although the flyaway strands defied any attempt to be sleek.

  She looked at him, her eyes troubled, and her face pale above the bouquet of white roses in her hands. Travis clenched his jaw, wishing she wouldn’t appear so terrified. He was hardly an ogre. He glanced away and faced the pastor as she came to stand beside him.

  The room was unnaturally quiet. The girls seemed transfixed by the tableau before them, as unsmiling as their mother. He stuffed down an impulse to grimace and straightened his shoulders.

  “Well, shall we begin?” the pastor asked, his smile obviously forced as if he was aware of the undercurrents in the room.