by Angel Smits
“I took care of myself.” He didn’t seem to think that was odd. “My mom worked and supported us. She was always there for me, but I didn’t need her to take care of me.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “She passed away a few months back. She’d have loved Tyler.” His voice cracked hard.
“I’m sorry.” Emily paced to the window to look out over the lawn that stretched across nearly a city block. She didn’t look back, but she could see him in her mind’s eye. Tall. Intense. Strong.
Everything she expected. That was what worried her most. He couldn’t really be that good. There had to be some flaw. She had to find it, had to expose it. Then she’d know if this was really going to work. For Tyler’s sake. “Your sisters don’t live nearby, do they?” she asked. “Do you have any family here?”
“At the ranch? No.”
“And you’re not married, are you, Mr. Hawkins?”
He laughed, but the sound held little humor. “No.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Is something funny?”
“Well,” he drawled, “either you’re channeling my mother—she always bemoaned the fact that her kids had yet to marry—or you’re making a pass at me.”
She glared at him and spun around to fully face him. “I am most certainly not.”
He laughed again, this time warmly. “At least now you’re looking at me.” He stood and moved around the desk toward her. “I realize you have your concerns, but don’t judge me before you know me. I’ve been taking care of Tyler just fine these past weeks.”
His laughter was gone, and she realized she’d squandered her opportunity to see the smile she’d wondered about earlier. He’d moved into her space, and she wanted desperately to move away. The cool glass of the window at her back stopped her. She looked up and noticed how tall he was. And how close.
“I’m only trying—”
“To do your job? I know.” His voice softened. Could he actually have moved closer? “Don’t be the judge right now. Save that for the actual courtroom. You said you’d be the caseworker. Be that now. Let me show you I can do this.”
She stuck to her guns. “Words are easy to hear, not necessarily to believe.”
His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw. She’d hit a button somewhere.
“Then come see the world I live in, the one I’m sharing with Tyler.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn wallet. “Here’s my business card. Come out to the ranch and then we’ll start this conversation over again.”
He tossed the card onto the desk and turned on his heel. He reached the door before he spoke again. “Afternoons are best, and no, I’m not trying to hide anything.” He frowned at her over one broad shoulder. “Tyler starts school tomorrow, and I refuse to have him miss any more class than he has already.”
And with that, he left.
* * *
WYATT STALKED TO the elevator, resisting the urge to slam his fist into the lit button beside the double metal doors. The woman was a pain. She’d practically called him a liar, which grated on his nerves.
She obviously thought a woman made a better caregiver than a man. He’d done just fine with his brothers and sisters, thank you very much. Granted, he’d had his mother around part of the time, and Addie. He cursed. He should have told her about Addie.
No. That would be admitting defeat. He wanted her to realize he was perfectly capable of taking care of Tyler.
“Mr. Hawkins.”
He turned around and saw the judge walking toward him. He tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the sway of her hips and how her hair rippled with her movement. She looked as ticked as he felt. Good. That meant they were in the same boat. “Yes?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. At three. Does that work with your schedule?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
Wyatt would have laughed if he weren’t so ticked. She’d be on his turf. He felt much more comfortable with that. “Perfect.”
The tiny ding of the elevator announced the car’s arrival. The doors swished open, and he stepped inside. He lifted his hat and settled it on his head before tapping the brim just as the doors closed.
He figured she’d be there right at three. He’d be ready at two-thirty, since Tyler got off the bus at two forty-five.
Suddenly, Wyatt felt all of his thirty-two years. He couldn’t let Tyler down, but for the first time since he’d picked up his nephew at that godforsaken house, he didn’t want to go home. He couldn’t reassure Tyler that things were going to be okay, when one wrong thing tomorrow could end it all.
Once Wyatt reached his truck, he sat in the cab and stared at the uglier-than-sin building. How long he sat there, he didn’t know, but the West Texas heat had permeated the very air he breathed before he turned the ignition. The air-conditioning kicked on but did little to alleviate the scorcher of an afternoon. “Damned infuriating woman,” he mumbled as he pulled out of the parking lot.
All the questions she’d asked him rang through the air in time with the whine of the tires on the highway. No, he didn’t have a wife. No, his sisters didn’t live nearby. No, he had no intention of taking Tyler to Mars anytime this week.
He growled at his own stupidity and frustration. He knew what he had to do. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t do this by himself. He’d always been the one to take care of things. The one in charge. The one who needed no one.
This time he needed help.
He wasn’t a fool. His pride might get in the way, but keeping Tyler was far more important than his ego. He’d learned that a long time ago, when he’d been young and stubborn.
He thumbed open his cell and pushed the speed dial for his sister. Addie had gotten back from vacation last night. When he’d first received the letter from Tyler’s mom, he’d toyed with the idea of calling Addie, but she would have cut her trip short, and he hadn’t wanted that.
He’d almost given in a couple times, especially that first night Tyler had come to stay at the house. But they’d gotten along well, and while the boy had been sad when he’d gone to bed, he hadn’t made any fuss. Only later when he’d peeked in on the boy had Wyatt seen the tear tracks on the boy’s cheeks.
Now he had no choice. And if he thought the judge had given him a rough time, it would be nothing like the tongue-lashing he knew Addie would give him for keeping this a secret.
Part of him hoped it would roll over to voice mail. It didn’t. “Hi!” Addie’s voice sounded like the girl he remembered instead of the tired woman he’d come to know since Mom’s diagnosis.
“Hi, yourself. How was the trip?”
“Awesome. Stupendous. I’m exhausted.” She laughed and Wyatt knew it wasn’t the bone-weary kind she’d lived with for years. This was a happy tired.
“That’s great. It wasn’t the same without you.” They usually talked several times a week, and her absence reminded him of all that was missing in his life. “I have something to tell you.”
“Uh-oh.”
“It’s not bad. Not really.”
“Double uh-oh.”
He laughed, thinking that maybe he’d avoid the tongue-lashing after all.
“Spill it, brother dear.”
Okay, maybe he’d been thinking too positively. Here goes. “Right after you left, a registered letter arrived.” He paused and sucked in a couple lungfuls of hot Texas air. “Apparently, DJ has a son.”
The silence on the other end of the call grew heavy and thick. Was that a storm brewing or just shock?
“I... Tyler is with me. He has been for almost three weeks.” There, he’d said it.
“Tyler?” she whispered.
“That’s his name. He’s eight. God, Addie, he looks just like DJ at that age.” Wyatt’s voice broke. He missed his brother and worried where the special
forces soldier was in the world. And if he still was.
“How... I don’t understand.”
“His mother abandoned him. She sent a letter and just left the boy.”
“He’s with you, there?” He heard her moving around and hoped it meant she was heading to her car.
“Not right here. He’s back at the ranch with Chet and the crew.” He knew his foreman, a father of four, was well acquainted with little boys. “I’m just leaving the judge’s office. I’m trying to get custody.”
“Good.” More rummaging. “I’ll be there in a couple hours.”
“Thank God.”
“What?” She was silent a long minute. “Who are you and what have you done with Wyatt?”
Her comment did as he knew she intended and he laughed. “I... The judge keeps asking me about a woman in my life to help take care of Tyler.”
Addie laughed this time. “Oh, this is gonna be fun. I’m on my way. ’Bye. Oh, and we’ll discuss your failure to tell me about this later.” She hung up.
Wyatt groaned. Addie’s ire was legendary, but at this point he couldn’t let DJ or Tyler down.
CHAPTER FOUR
EMILY DIDN’T MIND coffee. She actually enjoyed a cup, heavily laced with cream and sugar on a bitterly cold, winter day. Otherwise, she’d rather drink pretty much anything else.
There was, however, something comforting about its scent that reminded her of the mornings before she left for school, back when it had been just her and her mother. Mom would make a pot while she fixed Emily’s breakfast, then halfway through the second cup, she’d scoot Emily out the door to the bus.
It wasn’t until just this instant that Emily wondered what her mother had done with the rest of the pot...or even what her mother had done the rest of the day. Helen had never worked outside the house. And to Emily as a child, it was as if either her mother vanished while she was at school, or just sat there, in a holding pattern, waiting.
Emily sat outside Sunset Haven, the assisted living that had been her mother’s home for a couple months now, staring through the windshield, the scent of the coffee wafting around her.
It felt good to sit. Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes, though she couldn’t do that for long for fear of falling asleep. She was so tired.
With Judge Ramsey still out on medical leave and Judge Helton announcing his retirement yesterday, Emily was swamped.
And to top it off, she’d barely slept last night. Why couldn’t she get Wyatt Hawkins and his nephew out of her mind? At the most inopportune moments yesterday, his words had echoed back at her. She’d tossed and turned all night, seeing his face, hearing his accusations.
And why the uncle? Why not the little boy? That was whom she really cared about, wasn’t it?
Maybe it had something to do with where he lived. She sighed, knowing that she’d started thinking about Wyatt Hawkins again the instant she’d looked up his address online.
He and Tyler lived out in ranch country. The same part of the county she’d grown up in.
Emily knew she was stalling. She wasn’t in the mood for Mom today, and no one, except a few staff members at the facility, would ever know if she didn’t visit. No one would begrudge her. But Emily would know she’d let her mom down. Again.
For Emily, her mother had been gone a long time already. All that was left was the shell of a woman whose mind, as well as her body, had faded.
Slowly, she reached for the door handle and climbed out into the hot Texas sun. She grabbed the two cups from the holders and closed the door with her hip. Her heels sank in the soft black pavement, and she hurried to the concrete walk. If she slowed down or stopped now, she might not make it. Luckily, the air-conditioning was on in full force today and the small lobby felt blessedly cool inside.
“Hello, Ms. Ivers.” The bouncy little receptionist greeted Emily. She was always there, always chipper. Emily hadn’t a clue how the woman could be so happy.
“Hello.” Emily nodded and headed down the hallway. It seemed eternally long today, though she only had to pass four doorways before she reached her mother’s.
The large bundle of yellow silk roses attached to the door were just as she’d last seen them. They were from the house, something the staff here had encouraged Emily to bring in to help Helen find her own room more easily. It worked sometimes, though Emily had received several reports about her mother being found in other people’s rooms. It saddened her. The mother she remembered would have been mortified by such behavior.
“Mom?” she called from the open doorway, knowing that startling her mother was a bad thing. It only increased Helen’s confusion. “Mom, are you here?”
“Oh, yes, deary.”
Uh-oh. Deary. Emily’s heart sank. That meant her mother didn’t remember who she was today. Deary was her catchall name for everyone. Her mother stuck her head around the divider curtain and smiled blankly at Emily.
“Well, hello.” Helen stepped around the curtain. “Can I help you?”
Emily’s heart hurt. She missed the long-ago days when she’d come home from school and her mother would open her arms to give her a big hug.
“It’s me, Emily.” She often had to remind her mother who she was, but just because she was used to it didn’t mean she liked it. “I brought you some coffee.” She lifted the cup marked decaf. She’d learned that trick a long time ago, too. No caffeine for Mom. Not if the staff here ever wanted her to go to bed at night.
“Oh, how lovely. You shouldn’t have.” Helen frowned, but gladly took the cup. “Won’t you come in?” She led the way to the sitting area just inches away. The two chairs that had been in Helen’s front room all Emily’s life were situated just as they had been at the house. Yet another clue for Helen as to who and where she was that the staff had suggested. Sitting in the chairs was a comfort to Emily as well, and she smiled. They were worn and comfortable. Home.
“How are you today, Mom?” She sipped her own cinnamon-laced, caffeine-enriched chai. She needed to stay alert so she had no qualms about a fully leaded drink for herself.
“Oh, Emily!” Helen shook her head. “When did you get here?”
Emily smiled. “Just a minute ago. How’s your coffee?” she asked, reminding her mother of the drink in her hand.
Helen looked down at it with a frown that quickly vanished. She took a tentative sip then smiled. “Very good.”
Emily knew not to let the conversation stop or she’d lose the connection with her mother, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Work filled most of her waking hours, and she couldn’t tell Mom about the cases she was working...though it wasn’t as if Mom would remember.
God, this sucked. Emily wished she had someone to talk to, someone whose advice she could trust.... She missed her mom even more right now, though the woman sat right in front of her.
The sudden wave of sadness took Emily by surprise and made her quickly change her train of thought. She immediately slammed into the image of Wyatt Hawkins.
Cursing under her breath, she stood and paced the tiny confines of her mother’s room.
“What’s the matter, hon?” Helen’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Oh, nothing.” What a lie.
“Now, you can’t hide from me, you know.”
Emily laughed. Mom might be disconnected, but she was still Mom. “No, I never could. It’s just work stuff.”
“Are you in trouble?” Helen frowned over her coffee cup.
Emily laughed again. “No.” The fern in Mom’s window looked healthy, but Emily busied herself cleaning dead leaves and rearranging the tiny branches. “Hey, Mom? When we lived out at Grandpa’s place, did you know anyone named Hawkins?” She could have bitten her tongue.
“Hawkins. Hawkins.” Helen repeated the name several times before lookin
g up with a smile. “I do remember them. Lots of kids in that family. Five or six, I think.”
Emily wasn’t sure if her mom meant her generation or the current one. She knew there were six in the current one.
“Nice family.” Helen took a sip of her coffee, the cup hiding her face for an instant. Once the cup was back down, Emily felt a little hitch. The distance was back. She wasn’t going to learn any more from Mom about Wyatt and his family. Maybe that was a good thing. It wasn’t appropriate to combine her personal life with business.
“Have you heard from your father?” Helen asked. “I haven’t seen him.”
“Me, either,” Emily whispered. It always hurt when Mom asked about Dad. She never asked about Earl, which Emily was thankful for—she couldn’t discuss that jerk. But it was also hard to discuss the father she missed so much.
“Helen?” A man’s voice came from the hallway, and Emily looked up to see an elderly gentleman leaning on his walker, standing in the open doorway.
Helen frowned for just an instant, then smiled. “Hello.” She didn’t say the man’s name, so Emily knew she didn’t remember it. But she did recognize the man, if the warmth of her smile was any indication.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you had company.” He started to move away, but Emily knew an escape when she saw one.
“I was just getting ready to leave.” Emily stood.
“Oh.” He smiled. “I came to see if Helen was ready to head down to dinner. They’re having a round of bingo beforehand, and I thought we could play.”
“I think Mom would like that.” Emily smiled at Helen and stood, hoping her mother would get the hint. Thankfully, she did. Setting her coffee on the table, Helen headed to the door.
“I love bingo.” Helen fell into step as the man led the way down the hall, Emily once again forgotten.
Emily stood there, a half-empty cup in her hand. Suddenly she didn’t want any more. She just wanted to get out of here and go back to the office. She could think there. She knew what to expect from the stack of files that needed to be read.
