Читать книгу A Family for Tyler - Angel Smits - Страница 12

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 looking 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.

“Did Helen already go to dinner?” A nurse’s aide entered the room.

Emily recognized her as Rose from her earlier visits. She liked Rose. “A gentleman with a walker came by and is going down with her.”

Rose laughed. “That describes most of the men here. I’ll bet it was Hal. He’s taken a shine to your mom. Keeps her out of other people’s rooms by getting her back here after every meal.”

Relief that Mom had someone watching over her slid through Emily. She grabbed her mother’s barely touched coffee and took it to the sink to pour it out. She emptied her own as well then tossed the cups into the trash.

“She really is doing well.” Rose came to stand beside Emily. “She’s going to activities, she cooperates with care most of the time and she even joined in yesterday’s sing-along.”

Such simple progress...and yet it was very big news. Helen was different now from the skin-and-bones, withdrawn and frightened woman who’d been brought here just a couple months ago. She was still thin, but she was clean, neat and eating regularly. Though it didn’t help ease Emily’s guilt.

“I’m glad.” She smiled at Rose. “And I appreciate everything you all do for her, really I do.” She gathered her purse and headed to the door.

“She talks a lot about you, you know.”

That stopped Emily. She slowly turned back to look at the aide.

“When I help her get ready for bed, we talk.” Rose stepped close. “She’s so proud of you. She talks about you and your horse, Sugar. She told me how hard you worked to get into law school.”

“She remembers all that?”

“Yeah.” Rose took a deep breath. “The best part of this job is that I get to see that. She’s still in there, she just doesn’t show up often. Usually at night, after the sun sets, she’s more...” Rose seemed to struggle with the words. “More aware? I don’t know how to describe it. But she seems to wake up, just for a little bit.”

Emily was surprised. “I wish—”

Rose interrupted her. “Don’t do that. Just accept her for who she’s been and who she is. She’s a very sweet lady.”

Emily nodded, fighting the tears that were tight in her throat. “I know. You should have known her when I was a kid.” She laughed as a myriad of images flashed through her mind. Happy times, not the painful memories from after Dad’s death, or when Earl had entered their lives. She recalled sitting on the couch reading storybooks, putting together puzzles and watching soap operas on school holidays.

“You keep those memories.” Rose patted her arm. “I think she’d like you to.”

Emily watched Rose leave the room and head to the dining room. She’d needed that today. Needed to be reminded that she was still important to someone. She didn’t even cringe when she went past the dining room and saw her mother struggling to read the bingo cards. Emily just smiled, waved at Hal, at Rose and the other dozen people seated at the square dining room tables.

The sun was low in the afternoon sky as she reached her car, though the heat hadn’t lessened any. The door handle was still hot and she cursed as she gingerly opened it. She dreaded getting inside the scorching car.

She was just a block away when her cell phone rang. She pulled to the side of the road to dig it out of her purse. She’d never paid attention to the thing before, but now, with Mom where she was, she tried to keep it handy. It would help if she had a smaller purse. Her heart pounding, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the number was her office. She glanced at the clock. What was Dianne still doing at work?

“Hello?”

“Emily? It’s Dianne. Are you coming back to the office?”

“I’d planned to. Why?”

“I, um... There’s a man here.” Dianne’s voice lowered. “He says his name is Drew Walker? He says he knows you?”

Emily’s heart sank. Drew? She hadn’t seen her stepbrother in five years, and then only for a few hours—which was fine with her. What did he want? “I’m on my way. Is he willing to wait—” she glanced at her watch “—fifteen minutes?” She heard Dianne ask someone the same question.

“Yeah, he’ll wait. See you soon.” Dianne hung up.

Emily sat there for a long minute. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to shift gears. She was no longer the heartbroken daughter. Now she was back in legal mode. Much better. Much easier.

* * *

WYATT WATCHED AS Addie stared down at the little boy lying in the huge double bed. He could almost hear her thoughts, he knew his sister so well. They’d been together all but a few years of their lives, the first two before she was born and then the four years she’d been away at college. They were close, and he realized he should let Tyler go live with her. She’d make a great mom.

He turned his focus to the sleeping boy. It was eerie, really. He looked so much like DJ. Wyatt swallowed. The worry about DJ that had taken up residence since he’d gone overseas leaped into his throat.

“I want to reach out and hug him,” Addie whispered. “It’s almost like I’d be holding DJ. I wish I knew where he was.” No one in the family had heard from him in nearly three months. This wasn’t the first time since he’d joined the military that he’d essentially disappeared off the face of the earth. No news was good news, Wyatt kept telling himself.

“I’m not sure we really want to know.” Wyatt turned away from the door and headed to the kitchen. There was no escaping the nightly news or the daily headlines. Wyatt had a pretty good idea that whatever DJ was doing would scare the hell out of Addie.

Grief and worry shone in her eyes and she stepped away from the door, leaving it ajar.

“What if he never gets to see Tyler?” She followed Wyatt to the kitchen.

Wyatt poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair he’d brought from Mom’s house after the funeral. Dad had sat like this, at the head of the table, hundreds of times when they were kids. Now Wyatt took that spot. It felt right. Maybe some of Dad’s wisdom would seep out of the worn wood.

“We’ll cross that bridge when, and if, we get to it.” He took a sip of his coffee.

Addie headed to the stove. “How can you drink that stuff this late and not bounce off the walls until dawn?” She made herself a cup of the chamomile tea he kept at the ranch especially for her before sitting down to face him. “Have you learned anything about the mother? How could anyone just abandon him? He’s such a sweet kid.”

Wyatt laughed. “You’ve only been here a few hours. Give him a chance. He’s a boy, remember? And he’s DJ’s son.” Amazingly, Mom hadn’t died of a heart attack from some of DJ’s antics.

“The letter didn’t say much. No one seems to know a thing about his mother except Tyler, and he isn’t saying much. I’m not pushing him.”

“Where’s the letter?” Addie asked.

“The judge has it. I’ve hired a private detective to look for his mother, but he hasn’t come up with anything.”

“I’m still confused as to how she found you.”

He sighed. Might as well get the tongue-lashing over with.

“She didn’t. She sent the letter, registered, to Mom’s place. As executor, all the mail’s being forwarded to me, so it came here.”

“Gotcha.” Addie sipped her tea thoughtfully. He was surprised when she didn’t say more, like “Why didn’t you call me?” or “Don’t you think I should take care of him?” The thought of Addie taking Tyler home with her twisted something inside him. Wyatt didn’t like admitting it, but he was getting attached to the kid.

“So tell me about this judge.” Addie interrupted his thoughts.

“What’s there to tell?”

“What’s she like? I need a little preparation. She’s going to be here tomorrow to scrutinize everything about us, about this place. We have to be ready.”

“I know that.” He set his cup down and stared at it for a long minute. “She’s younger than I expected. I pictured some crotchety old goat of a judge, like half the other judges in the county. But she’s probably our age. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Smart. She listened to everything Tyler had to say. She’s got a way with kids.”

Silence permeated the room. And then Addie laughed. “What?” Wyatt frowned at her.

“You’re attracted to her.”

“I— What are you talking about?” Wyatt felt the heat rise up his neck. “You asked what she’s like,” he accused.

“I asked about her as a judge. You just described her as a woman.”

“I—” This time he didn’t even bother to deny or say anything. What was the use? It’d be a lie. He was attracted to her. Damn it.

“Oh, this is good.” Addie leaned back, obviously enjoying the moment. Her grin widened.

“Stop it, Addie. This is serious.”

“Oh, I’m definitely serious. You know, big brother—” She’d always loved reminding him of that relationship at times like this. “You could make this work. Is she attracted to you?”

“Addie!”

“What? I’m only looking at the realities. Come on, Wyatt. You’re single. Good-looking. Available. Wine and dine her, for God’s sake. Win her over.”

“I can’t believe my sister actually paid me a compliment.” He turned away and shook his head, but not before he felt a flash of guilt. He’d already thought about and discarded the idea Addie was suggesting.

The silence grew long before Addie spoke again, and her words came out soft. “What if she comes back?” Addie sat quietly sipping her tea, not meeting Wyatt’s eyes.

“Who?” he asked, knowing full well who Addie meant. “The judge?”

“Don’t be obtuse.” Addie suddenly shot to her feet and moved to the fridge. She opened the door and stared inside.

“What are you looking for?” They’d just finished dinner. Addie wasn’t hungry. She was anxious despite the usually relaxing tea. Wyatt sat for a moment watching her.

“Nothing.” She closed the door and sat back down, only to squirm in her chair.

Something about all this was bugging Addie, something more than the judge’s impending visit. Something about Tyler had set Addie on edge, had turned his normally calm and together sister into someone he barely recognized. “You gonna tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I—” Finally, she looked up. Wyatt was shocked to see a flash of deep pain run through her eyes. “What if DJ doesn’t make it home?”

“Is that what all this fidgeting is about? Don’t think about that. He’ll come home safe.” Even Wyatt doubted his own words.

Addie curled her fingers around the mug, not lifting it to her lips, just staring into the cooling contents. “His mother could come back at any time and take him.”

“Yes, she could,” Wyatt admitted, reaching across the table to cover Addie’s hand with his. “But legally, she can’t. She abandoned him, and the judge wants this custody to be permanent. I agree.”

She sighed, breathing deeply, before looking at him again. That look struck a note inside Wyatt. This was his family, and while Tammie Easton had given birth to DJ’s child, he didn’t see where she had any place here. She’d given up that right.

The protective instinct that was so ingrained in Wyatt surged to the surface. “She shows up here and she’ll have one hell of a fight on her hands.” He spoke the words loud and strong, ignoring the doubt they covered.

He could fight her, legally, but what would that do to Tyler? What would DJ do? He’d obviously felt something for the woman at some point. What would he feel once he learned she’d kept his son a secret for eight years?

With a curse, Wyatt rose to his feet and dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

He shoved the screen door open, letting it slap shut behind him. The night engulfed him within only a few feet, but he didn’t have to see where he was going. He knew the path to the barn well.

His eyes easily adjusted, and he soon could make out the forms of the barn, the stable, the corral, the garage. Movement caught his eye and a sense of relief washed over him. His feet made their own way to the corral fence. Prism waited for him. The beautiful white horse shook its big shaggy head, greeting Wyatt as it always did. A friend saying hello.

“I should’ve brought you a treat, huh, boy?” Wyatt whispered and rubbed the smooth brow. Long minutes passed. The horse’s breathing, the distant croaks of the frogs down at the pond, the faint whisper of something—probably a rabbit in the grasses—soothed him. He closed his eyes and took it all in, letting home comfort him.

Addie’s question haunted him. What if Tyler’s mom did come back? What would he do?

“You up for a ride, boy?” He patted Prism’s neck and the horse seemed to nod his agreement. “Come on.” Wyatt opened the gate and just as he had dozens of times before, he climbed up on the horse’s bare back, hanging on to the thick mane. “Let’s go.”

This was no orderly canter; they both knew this. Prism knew him. Prism understood. And Prism ran. As if the troubles of the world were on his tail. Just as Wyatt wanted and needed.

* * *

FROM HIS PERCH on the dresser by the windowsill, where he’d climbed after Aunt Addie and Uncle Wyatt had gone to the kitchen, Tyler stared out across the yard at the starry sky. He’d waited until they’d walked down the hall to open his eyes. Playing possum, as Mama called it, had let him learn lots of things grown-ups didn’t tell him.

He could still hear Uncle Wyatt talking. Aunt Addie seemed nice enough, but her questions worried him. Especially the ones about Mama.

Tyler liked Wyatt. Liked him a lot. For an instant, his view wavered, and he rubbed the heel of his hand against his right eye, then his left.

He refused to cry. Big boys didn’t cry, Mama had always said. Then she would describe how Tyler’s dad was big and tough and strong. He was a soldier, and Tyler didn’t think soldiers ever cried.

Was his dad like Wyatt? Tyler wondered. They were brothers. Tyler wondered what it would be like to have a brother. He thought he might like it. Sisters, he wasn’t so sure about. Sometimes, he thought, he’d just like to have someone around when he was lonely.

He hadn’t felt lonely since Uncle Wyatt had come and gotten him, though. But the lady judge scared him. He didn’t want to be alone again. He’d tried really hard to make her understand that he wanted to stay with Uncle Wyatt, that he wanted to get to know his dad when he got home. And that Mama wasn’t bad; she just had stuff to take care of.

That word, abandoned, didn’t sound good. Uncle Wyatt’s frown had told Tyler he agreed with the lady judge. But Mama hadn’t left him forever. No, his heart cried. She’d be back. He knew she’d come back. She’d promised him.

But would she even know where he was? Panic made him hiccup and his eyes watered again. Aunt Addie had asked Uncle Wyatt about Mama’s letter and he’d said it had been delivered someplace else. Was that where Mama would go to get him? But he wasn’t there—what if she couldn’t find him?

Tyler scrambled off the ledge and reached for his jeans. In the right front pocket he pulled out the one thing he hadn’t shown anyone.

Mama had called it a locket. She had shown him how to open it, but he couldn’t remember how she’d done it. Instead, he curled his small fist around the locket and its chain before stuffing it back into his pocket.

When she’d given it to him, she’d promised she’d come back for it and for him as soon as she could.

He believed her.

He had to.

She was Mama.

His eyes burned and he curled his arms around his knees and rested his face on the patches of his jeans.

She’d be back.

She would.

Wouldn’t she?