Читать книгу A Family for Tyler - Angel Smits - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

A WEEK LATER, Wyatt found himself headed toward the county court offices. The building was old. Not ancient old as to be pretty, but built-in-the-1970s old, with harvest-gold siding. Wyatt stared at the ugly-as-sin building and frowned. Why had the judge asked to see him without Tyler? What was she up to?

Not knowing the answer made him uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. He’d climbed out of his truck into the late-spring heat and headed for the glass doors. By the time he entered the cool air-conditioned inside, he was irritated.

He hadn’t dealt much with the legal system—that was his brother Jason’s arena—but he’d been in the cattle industry a long time, so he had plenty of experience with government agencies. This felt very similar.

Hat in hand, the brim cupped in his wide palm, he took a calming breath and approached the desk. The brunette sitting there looked up at him over a pair of half glasses that seemed to practically glow in the dark. What color were those supposed to be?

“Can I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Magistrate Ivers.” Wyatt didn’t even recognize his own voice. So formal. So distant.

“I’ll let her know.” The woman stood and walked down the short hall to disappear behind a thick wooden door.

He sat down on one of the chairs lined up neatly along the far wall. He was the only person here and the room was quiet. Where the outside of the building had hurt his eyes, this office was polished and modern. He liked the marble and glass.

A rack of brochures on how to be a guardian caught his eye. He’d just read the titles on the third row when the woman returned. “She’ll be right out.”

Wyatt nodded and stared at the sign beside the door. E. J. Ivers. He leaned closer to read her full name printed in smaller letters beneath. His frown deepened.

In Wyatt’s book, E. J. Ivers, magistrate, was not supposed to be Emily Ivers of the soft, feminine variety. Before last week, he’d had a vision of a graying older man with a booming voice. Or maybe one of those polished judges like on TV. Showed what he knew.

All through court, Wyatt had been stunned by the much younger, much prettier, definitely female judge. The long, black robes had hidden everything except the collar of the vibrant pink blouse that had set off her dark hair.

On the bench she’d been thorough and direct, and intelligence had snapped in her dark eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Now here he sat outside her office wondering what the hell to expect next.

* * *

EMILY GLARED AT the stacks of papers and files lined up on the conference table that took up nearly half her official chambers.

Even if she wanted to have a meeting here, she couldn’t. The piles never really seemed to shrink, though she knew Dianne frequently shuffled them around.

Emily stalked past the stacks and flopped down into her desk chair. She arranged the current file neatly on the blotter, reluctant to add more to the table.

She was tired. Court had been exhausting this week, covering for Judge Ramsey as well as her own responsibilities. And then there’d been Wyatt Hawkins and his nephew.

Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Half of last night she’d tossed and turned, seeing Wyatt’s handsome face and feeling his reassuring hand on her own shoulder. She’d awoken before dawn this morning from a particularly vivid dream so clear she’d known there was no sleep left.

Now here she sat, waiting for the man to arrive at her office, barely able to keep her eyelids open. Shaking herself out of the stupor, she sat forward and opened the file.

Tyler Easton was an adorable kid. Instead of seeing the brown folder, she pictured his earnest young face. He wanted so badly to believe his mom was coming back for him and that his dad would want him. He’d pulled every worldly possession from his pockets to prove to her how important he was, to prove he belonged.

She smiled, wondering at the depth of those pockets. How could a boy carry so much around with him?

Once again, Wyatt Hawkins’s face came to mind. He cared for the boy—it showed in the softening of his eyes as he watched Tyler, in the protective hand he kept on the boy’s shoulder as they sat together and the reluctant smile that tugged at his lips. By granting provisional custody, she’d preserved Tyler’s hopes and given the uncle an out, if necessary.

Emily flipped through the file and reread her notes. Next she pulled out the preliminary caseworker’s notes that had been in the file, but which she hadn’t had time to review until afterward. She frowned as she reread the tightly typed paragraphs.

Wyatt Hawkins lived in the country in an aged ranch house. He’d owned it for just over five years. He was single and his family lived in Austin, a two-hour drive away. No one here to help him raise a child. No wife. No mother. No sisters. Not even a girlfriend?

That thought lingered just a moment too long.

The caseworker had managed to visit the house before going on maternity leave, billing for eighteen point seven miles from town. The house had been clean, uncluttered and drafty. It sat just yards away from the barn and outbuildings. An environment fraught with potential for risk and danger.

Emily almost smiled. She’d grown up on a farm far from the safety of city streets with their gang shootings and drug deals.

The woman’s final remarks were short and to the point. The caseworker didn’t believe Wyatt Hawkins could provide a safe family environment for a little boy.

Emily sighed. Why did she feel as if he was the enemy? She’d never felt like this before about a case or a man. It totally unnerved her. He unnerved her.

One last look at the caseworker’s notes and she moved them to the back of the file. Something about all this didn’t feel right. She needed to figure out what that something was.

Dianne didn’t bother knocking when she came in. She never did if Emily was alone. She grinned broadly and winked at Emily. “A hunky cowboy is here, right on time. Whew.” Dianne fanned herself. “That man’s sure got somethin’ goin’ on.” She grabbed half a dozen files off the table. “And if you don’t want some, I’m ready for a hefty helpin’.”

The clerk left the room before Emily could respond. She never should have asked him to come here. She should have kept it all in the courtroom where she had distance and her robes to protect her. And where Dianne couldn’t add her two cents’ worth. Standing, she took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt. This was just a case. He was just a man.

Just a man. If only.

* * *

WYATT LEARNED THAT “right out” meant at least another five minutes. Finally, the woman he’d last seen in the courtroom stepped through the doorway. Instead of the dark robes, she wore a pale blue blouse and narrow black skirt. There were the curves he’d suspected.

Her hair hung loose around her face instead of being pulled back. For an instant, he simply stared. She was pretty. Very pretty.

“Mr. Hawkins. Welcome. Won’t you come in?” She smiled stiffly and extended her hand.

She sounded so distant and formal. He frowned, trying to chase the worry away as he followed her down a narrow hall.

The walls of her office were lined with shelves of thick legal books. She led him past a conference table stacked high with files to a pair of wing-backed chairs that faced a Chippendale desk. Not a thing was out of place on the desk, but she straightened the blotter before sitting down behind it, anyway.

He got the impression she was trying to intimidate him for some strange reason. She didn’t know him, he reasoned, or she’d have realized she was wasting her time. Wyatt Hawkins wasn’t easily intimidated.

“I know you’re wondering why I asked you to come here without Tyler.”

“Yeah, it’s crossed my mind.”

“I need to know the truth.” She scooted back in her chair. “Please be honest with me—do you really want to take on the responsibility of being Tyler’s guardian?”

There was no hesitation in her stare. He knew she hadn’t become a judge by being a wilting flower, but the distance in her eyes sent a shiver through him. He knew a smokescreen when he saw one.

And this lady had more than smoke around her. She’d put up full, solid walls. What the hell had he done to piss her off? Taken aback, he shifted into negotiation mode and met her gaze with a stubborn one of his own.

* * *

EMILY STARED AT the man from across her desk. She’d purposefully put the desk between them. Originally, she’d thought to sit in the other chair, beside him, seeking a friendly, nonthreatening meeting.

That plan had flown out the window the minute she’d seen him sitting there in the lobby. He’d taken up all the space in the narrow chairs. Now he seemed to inhabit her entire office, stealing all the oxygen from the room.

She took a deep breath, waiting to hear him admit that he really didn’t want the boy. That he had a life, and a nephew he’d never met before had no place in it. It was what she expected. His words startled her.

“Ms. Ivers,” he said through clenched teeth. “You don’t know me, I get that.” He turned the brim of his cowboy hat along his palm. “That’s why I’m not totally ticked off by your question. That, and I know you want what’s best for Tyler. But let me explain.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hat in hand. He looked up and that deep blue stare held an intensity that made her flinch.

“I’m the oldest of six kids. My dad died when I was fifteen and ever since then I’ve been taking care of my brothers and sisters. And my mom.” His eyes grew distant for an instant. “A man doesn’t turn his back on responsibility. Right now, until DJ comes home, Tyler is my responsibility.” He waited a long beat, letting his words soak in.

She analyzed them as her gaze roamed over him. His gaze intensified, if that were possible, and the lines around his eyes and lips indicated he smiled often. He wasn’t smiling now. She didn’t expect him to, but suddenly she wanted to see him smile. Wanted to experience his strength. He was a strong man.

“Mr. Hawkins.”

“Please, call me Wyatt. This feels too danged formal for me.”

She tried to smile. “Wyatt.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve been a magistrate for too long to trust the initial impression. I have to ask the hard questions. If I don’t, someone, and that someone is usually the child, gets hurt.” She couldn’t let her mind go any further. If she thought about the abuse she’d seen...that she’d experienced...

Stop. She put her thoughts on hold, refusing to go there. Not now.

“I understand,” he said, saving her from the threatening morass in her mind.

“Actually, I don’t know that you do.” She couldn’t sit across from him any longer. Even with the desk between them, he was too close, too real. “You said you cared for your siblings. Who took care of you?”

“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.