by Leigh Duncan
Karen gasped and started forward. Amanda restrained her.
“Not yet,” she whispered. If she were sitting in Mitch’s place, she’d have another argument up her sleeve. She watched the muscles in the lawyer’s neck bunch into thick cords. His jaw clenched so tightly she wondered how he’d manage to get any words out.
“Your Hon—” Mitch stopped and cleared his throat. In a hoarse voice, he stated, “Your Honor, four years ago, when Karen walked out on our marriage, she left with our building contractor. Now, Ron faces embezzlement charges. Because of her association with known criminals—”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Amanda was on her feet. “My client has no criminal record and there’s no evidence that she—”
“Sustained.” Dobson’s fingers waved her into her chair. Any hint of compromise faded from his voice as he turned to Mitch. “Mr. Goodwin, your ex-wife’s friends and associates are no more a matter before this court than yours are. You had to know before coming in here that the state of Florida has never completely refused visitation rights for a parent. I’m disinclined to buck that trend.”
Karen had claimed Mitch possessed a violent streak. She’d even hinted that both she and Hailey had suffered from it. That was the only part of her story Amanda had refused to believe. Despite the fact that she’d seen Mitch react in anger—once—she couldn’t accept that the boy she’d loved had grown abusive. She told herself prosecuting attorneys didn’t rise to the top of the heap by losing control. Still, she’d checked around. No one had ever seen so much as a single hair rise on the back of Mitch’s neck.
Judging from the waves of anger now rolling off the man, those who claimed Mitch Goodwin was incapable of losing his temper had been wrong. Railing against the family court system, he launched into an angry tirade. His strenuous objections echoed through the room.
Dobson lifted his gavel and rapped it sharply on the bench. A single tap was enough to stem Mitch’s torrent of harsh words. The tall lawyer’s expression grew shuttered, his eyes blank.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” he stated.
Dobson gave him a hard look. “You should be. If you ever raise your voice in my courtroom again…”
Mitch never lifted his eyes. “Yes, Your Honor. It won’t happen again, Your Honor.”
“Court is adjourned.” Dobson’s gavel struck again and, with a flurry of black robes, the judge hustled into his chambers. Practically before those watching had surged to their feet, the door slammed in his wake.
“Well.” Karen flounced back in her chair and pointed a finger at Mitch. “On TV, he’d go to jail for contempt.”
“Real court is different.” Amanda settled her hand over Karen’s forcing down her client’s outstretched arm. “We won more than we expected,” she soothed in her most lawyerly voice. “Why don’t you let me work out the details? That’s what you pay me for.”
Karen raked her manicured fingers through her hair. “Fine,” she agreed, although her angry glare said she was anything but pleased. “As long as you remember that he stole my daughter—and my life—from me. When we’re done, I don’t want him to ever see Hailey again. Have I made myself clear?”
This was a different side of the client who’d quietly slipped into her office two weeks earlier. Amanda reminded herself that emotions ran high in child custody cases. Karen wasn’t the first parent to want revenge. But proving Mitch unfit even to see his daughter? The man might be coldhearted—he’d definitely been in the wrong in preventing Karen from seeing Hailey. But the courtroom was no place to extract vengeance. Truth be told, his objections and the judge’s reaction to them were so vehement, Amanda almost felt sorry for Mitch.
She mustered a conciliatory expression, but by the time she swung around to face the man across the aisle, the door to the hallway was closing behind him.
Chapter Three
Halfway down the wide corridor, Mitch dropped his briefcase to the floor at his feet. He leaned back against the wall and concentrated on drawing strength from the hard concrete blocks. In five years as a prosecutor—no, longer than that. On the Law Review and at a thousand Sunday dinners where the senior partner of Goodwin & Sons dished out arguments along with the mashed potatoes, he’d never lost his cool the way he’d lost it in court this morning.
Mitch rubbed his temples, surprised his hands still shook with anger.
He was lucky Dobson hadn’t cited him for contempt and locked him up overnight. Worse, the way things stood, the Suwannee River would freeze over before the judge ruled in his favor on the simplest of motions.
And that wouldn’t protect Hailey.
The doors to the courtroom swung open. His ex-wife and her lawyer emerged. The sight of the two women chatting like old friends drove a spike right through the center of his gut. While Amanda guided her client into a waiting elevator, he studied the polished and astute woman who bore so little resemblance to the girl who’d worn T-shirts and shorts like a second skin. Even wearing an off-the-rack business suit, she outshone the sequined “Mandy” he’d waltzed around the Boots and Spurs barn.
She was good at her job, he’d give her that. She’d always had a competitive edge. After that summer, she’d used it to rise to the top in professional rodeo. But now she was putting it to work against him. And that only made him more determined to get back in charge of himself. He ran through possible scenarios for their upcoming conversation as she crossed the carpeted hall on three-inch heels that put an extra dash of sass in the swing of her hips.
“Hey, Mitch.”
She’d lost her familiar smile, replaced it with a frown. He warned himself not to mistake her expression for concern.
“Amanda,” he acknowledged.
“Looks like we have some things to sort out.”
She settled against the wall beside him. Her face lifted into the sunlight streaming through banks of windows, and gave a small sigh. Her lashes drifted down until they lightly brushed the translucent skin beneath her eyes.
Mitch straightened and edged away. “The other night, why didn’t you tell me you were an attorney?”
“We were at the bar association’s fundraiser.” Catlike, Amanda continued to soak up the sun. “It wasn’t obvious?”
“Not when you were racing across the arena astride a horse, it wasn’t,” Mitch grumbled. “I didn’t see any other lawyers there dressed in leather and spurs.”
Amanda faced him, the light turning her eyes more green than gray. “No, they’d all donned plaid shirts and denim. Definitely courtroom attire,” she said drily. “But since you ask, I was in charge of entertainment. I hadn’t planned to perform—I gave that up years ago. But my dad skipped out at the last minute. I…” She scowled. “The show had to go on,” she said, her jaw tight. “I filled in.”
Mitch thought back to the quiet nights when he and Mandy had stayed up after all the other campers had turned in. Those days, her attitude toward her dad had been one part hero worship, two parts neglected kid. If Mitch was hearing her right, Tom Markette’s image had lost its shine.
“Amazing performance,” he conceded. Seeing her precariously balanced on one foot atop a thousand pounds of thundering horseflesh had stirred feelings he hadn’t experienced in all the years since his marriage had crashed and burned. Later, when he’d held Mandy in his arms, swaying to country music, he’d wondered if the time was finally right to try again.
He swallowed hard and looked up to find Amanda staring at him. Keeping their conversation on track wasn’t as easy as he’d expected. He struggled to regain his composure.
“Have you talked to Karen about our past? Or the stampede?”
Amanda made a derisive sound. “She knows.”
“And she doesn’t care?” Not that he’d believe that for a minute.
“Why should she? It’s not as if we’re involved. We knew each other as kids. The other night, we shared a couple of dances.”
“We did a little more than dance.”
“We kissed. Which yo
u obviously didn’t enjoy, because the next thing I knew, you’d left me standing in the middle of the floor with egg on my face.”
She brushed her fingers across the lips he’d been crazy enough to devour.
“I owe you an apology for that,” Mitch admitted. “The guy who spoke with us—”
“The pole bender. Royce.”
Mitch nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one. From what he said, I assumed you’d be heading out with them the next morning. It made me stop and think.” He stopped now, not wanting to insult her by saying what was on his mind—that his days of getting involved with women who didn’t stick around were over.
Beside him, Amanda stiffened. She leaned closer, her words a whisper no one could overhear. “Just so we’re clear on a couple of things. One, I don’t sleep with men I’ve just met. Even if we do have some kind of history. And two, not that it made any difference then or makes one now, I’m here to stay.”
Mitch met her glare with raised eyebrows. She was right when she said it didn’t matter. If timing was everything, theirs couldn’t be worse. Amanda stood on the opposite side of the one issue that meant more to him than all the convictions he’d ever attained. Even if he were interested in a woman who could ride a horse at breakneck speeds and still feel meltingly soft in his arms—which he assured himself he wasn’t—she represented his ex-wife and was, therefore, off-limits.
“Karen doesn’t do anything without a plan. You don’t think she picked you at random, do you?”
“Sorry to disappoint… .” Amanda’s expression said the joke was on him. “But, yeah. There just aren’t that many family law specialists in town. Most of the others refused to take her case. Or they quit once they found out who they’d be up against. I was simply the last on the list. Besides,” she added pointedly, “she signed me before the rodeo.”
Amanda’s brow furrowed. “You do know what they say about you, don’t you? That you won’t cut a deal, no matter what.”
She made it sound like a bad thing, but his reputation was something he’d worked hard to achieve. He refused to apologize for it. “You didn’t walk away,” he pointed out. “What makes you so different?”
He could name several attributes that made her stand out from every woman he’d ever known, but that kind of knowledge wouldn’t help him in court. And, if he was going to protect his daughter, he needed to know more about Amanda Markette than he’d known about her when they were teens.
She stretched her arms before folding them securely across her chest.
“I happen to believe my client has right on her side. Karen wants to be a part of Hailey’s life. Every child needs their mother.”
Mitch stifled a groan. Of course Amanda would feel that way. Her own mom had died the summer before rodeo camp. But Karen…well, Karen was a whole other ball game. “She doesn’t want our daughter any more now than she did four years ago.”
He’d thought long and hard about what had brought his ex-wife back into his life. Their marriage hadn’t really had much chance to begin with. He’d done the honorable thing, marrying Karen after he’d gotten her pregnant, but she’d always been money hungry. She’d never understood why he wanted to prosecute criminals, not defend them. Or why he turned down his dad’s annual offer to rejoin Goodwin & Sons and the membership in the swanky golf club that came with it.
Any hope for their marriage had died while their house was being built. She and their contractor, Ron, had accused him of nickel-and-diming it into mediocrity. A few months later, Karen had handed Mitch the keys to the front door, placed a squalling infant in his arms and climbed into Ron’s SUV.
Now, with the builder in a serious financial jam, Karen was most likely looking for a new source of income. Mitch would bet his last dollar that’s all their daughter meant to his ex-wife. And since Florida courts rarely awarded child support when the guardianship was shared, first she’d have to win sole custody. Something he’d do everything in his power to prevent.
He eyed the woman next to him and kept his insights to himself. There were things about her client Amanda would have to discover on her own. His job was to make sure Hailey didn’t suffer in the process.
“You should know I intend to appeal Dobson’s ruling.”
“I expected no less. You won’t succeed, but I understand why you have to try.” A silky strand of hair had escaped Amanda’s bun. She smoothed it into place. “In the meantime, you’ll have to abide by the ruling.”
“Whatever,” Mitch growled through clenched teeth. “Let’s work out the specifics. A week from Friday, where would your client like me to bring my daughter?”
He read the hesitation in Amanda’s eyes. When she suggested it might be better if they met someplace neutral, such as her office, the ruse didn’t fool him for a second.
“What don’t you want me to see?” Certain she was hiding something behind her innocent expression, he sharpened his focus. “How bad is this place where she’s living?”
“It could be better,” Amanda admitted. “The social worker approved it but…”
“But their standards are lower than mine.” His head throbbed and he rubbed a hand over his forehead. He lifted the lid on the potent mix of fear and anger that had simmered ever since he’d been served with papers on the custody suit.
“I’m holding you personally responsible for Hailey’s safety. And now, if you don’t mind, I have to go home and tell my four-year-old her mother is back in town and determined to ruin our lives.”
He turned to leave, but Amanda’s hand on his forearm stopped him. If he thought he’d read concern in her expression earlier, there was no mistaking the worry on her face now.
“She’s just a little girl,” she murmured. “Are you really going to drag her into this?”
The implication hurt more than Mitch cared to admit. “Of course not,” he blustered. The bands across his chest tightened. “Give me some credit, will you? I will fight you with every fiber of my being, but I’ve never prejudiced Hailey against her mother. I won’t start now. I’ll present it as an adventure, a sleepover with her new best friend.”
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he walked away, the same way he’d walked away at the end of summer camp and again after the Saddle Up Stampede. Only this time, he didn’t have the memory of soft kisses to sustain him.
* * *
ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, Amanda shifted in her chair in the cozy seating area where built-in shelves housed hundreds of books on family law. “Are you ready for this?”
“You know Mitch and I can’t be in the same room without drawing blood.” Karen’s noisy exhalation sent coffee sloshing over the side of her cup.
Amanda handed across a napkin and said firmly, “You will.” While her client blotted, she dredged up the tone she’d used whenever a horse had balked at a new trick. “For Hailey’s sake, you’ll be civil with each other.”
And I’ll keep my distance.
She had her own reasons for avoiding Mitch Goodwin. Though he would never make it onto her list of Mr. Possibilities, he’d managed to awaken feelings she didn’t want to admit. It took effort to remind herself that a man with single-minded dedication to his career was not who she wanted in her life.
“Do you and Hailey have big plans for the weekend?” Deliberately, she switched subjects so her thoughts wouldn’t drift toward the hot summer nights when she’d dreamed of sharing more than kisses with Mitch.
Karen smoothed the skirt of a dress Amanda recognized from last year’s fashion magazines and sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow. I’d really like to take Hailey to Disney World.”
An uneasy feeling bloomed in Amanda’s chest. Cautiously, she asked, “What will she do while you’re at the store?”
“Why, come with me, of course. She can hang out in the employee lounge, watch TV.”
The answer triggered memories of all the scary, lonely nights Amanda had spent in their trailer while her parents performed to the roar of a crowded st
adium. Her own years in arenas where disaster was only a loose stirrup away helped her maintain her composure. “I don’t think you should take your daughter to work.”
Karen’s brows arrowed down over her eyes. “I don’t see why not.”
“I’m thinking safety issues. It was hard enough to childproof your apartment.”
Amanda bent forward, setting her glass of soda on the serving tray. She thought she’d made it clear that the visitation rights they’d won in court could be ripped out from under them if Hailey got hurt. But one glimpse of Karen’s blank expression and Amanda knew she needed to try again.
“Think of all the dangers in the back of the store. Coffeepots within reach. Needles and scissors. What if Hailey walks out the door while you’re busy with a customer and wanders down the sidewalk?”
“Well, I hadn’t thought of that.” Karen rummaged through her trendy little purse until she pulled out a sleek cell phone. She thumbed the device and glanced at the screen. “You know,” she said, resettling the expensive bag at her side, “it’s just not fair that Mitch can afford to give our daughter anything he wants when I can’t.”
The lament was becoming so familiar, Amanda couldn’t ignore it. She stared openly at her client, willing the woman to understand that money wasn’t the determining factor in whether or not someone made a good parent. Sure, a man like Mitch, with his high-octane career, could provide for his daughter financially, but at what cost? The little girl spent most of her time with a housekeeper. What children really needed was their parents’ time and attention. That was something Karen could provide.
“Okay, okay,” the blonde huffed at last. “I’ll take the day off. I don’t know how I’ll make my rent at the end of the month if I can’t work on Saturdays, but I’ll do it if I have to.”
“I’m sure it’s the right thing—”
When their talk was interrupted by a loud knock, Karen’s cup chattered against her saucer. “Is that Hailey?” She placed the coffee she’d barely touched on the table.
