Head thrower: A bull that tries to hit the cowboy with its head or horns while the contestant is on its back.
Rhett wished Tara could sit beside him, but Lamar said she couldn’t because she wasn’t the one filing for custody. He glanced over his shoulder. She perched on the edge of her seat in the front row behind him, wringing her hands in her lap.
He took the animal cracker from his pocket, held it up for her to see.
She smiled, and that lifted his spirits. Things had been a little bumpy since his wreck, but they’d make it through this. He felt certain of their love.
Directly across the aisle from Tara sat Claudio Limon. The Brazilian shot him a smug, screw-you smirk. The same self-satisfied smirk he wore every time he scored more points than Rhett staying on the back of a bull.
This was his life in a nutshell. His adversary on one side, but his rock-solid woman on the other. He shifted his gaze back to Tara, caught her in a worried frown. The minute she saw that he was watching her, she dragged out that tepid smile again.
Ah shit, his rock was looking like sandstone. That was okay. He’d be her rock today.
He mouthed, I love you, realized it was the first time he’d actually said those words to her since he’d come home. He needed to do better. Tara worked tirelessly to help others; she deserved a million I love yous a day.
Her eyes rounded and her smile cracked open, and she mouthed back, I love you too.
Reluctantly, he let go of her gaze, craned his neck to see Rhona from around the back of her lawyer.
Their eyes had met when he’d first walked in, and he’d seen fiery determination lurking there. Rhona was dressed in a matronly outfit, looking nothing like the buckle bunny who had shown up at his trailer door over a year ago. She wore a stiff white blouse with a high collar, an ankle-length skirt, and modest lace-up boots. Playing the part of reformed party girl.
Rhett wasn’t buying it, but would the judge?
You changed, a thought balloon popped into his head. She can too. Great, just what he needed. Empathy for the woman trying to take his daughter away.
“All rise,” bellowed the bailiff.
The people assembled got to their feet as Judge Brando swept into the room in her black robe, reading glasses on a gold chain around her neck.
Rhett gulped and pulled at his tie, suddenly swamped with sweat.
He was playing a part too. Really no different from Rhona. The only reason he deserved custody of Julie was because of Tara. Because of her, he’d become a better man. Because of her, he’d learned how to be a father. Because of her, for the first time in his life, he felt grounded and anchored and balanced.
All these years, he’d believed that being solid, committed, dependable meant boring. That if he allowed himself to settle down, it meant he’d be settling for a common life. He’d thought a wife and kids meant the end of fun and happiness.
Because of Tara, he’d learned the exact opposite was true. Now he had to convince Judge Brando that he was a changed man.
Across the aisle, Rhona and her legal team would be arguing the same thing. Both of them clamoring to the court, a court naturally inclined toward giving a child back to its mother, Pick me, pick me, pick me.
“Mr. Lockhart,” Judge Brando said once the fanfare of opening a courtroom session was over.
He looked into the judge’s face, and in that instant when her eyes met his, Rhett knew the truth. He didn’t have to wait to hear her decision. He saw it in her face. His goose was cooked. He’d lost Julie.
His hopes dropped, shattered. From behind him, he felt Tara rest a hand on his shoulder. Warm and reassuring. She had his back. His heart swelled, and he picked up his hopes. He couldn’t give up. For Tara’s sake.
“Mrs. Limon.” Judge Brando peered at Rhona.
Rhona stood straighter.
“Please have a seat,” Judge Brando invited the courtroom.
The congregation lowered in unison.
Time seemed to warp and stretch, simultaneously elongating and compressing. A tick of the courtroom clock and ten minutes had passed. A heartfelt plea from Rhona’s attorney dragged on into eternity. He spoke of how his client was deeply ashamed of leaving her baby. How she’d made amends. How she learned that she was bipolar but knew that was not an excuse for abandoning her child. How she was now on medication and under the treatment of a psychiatrist who was there to vouch for her ability to care for her daughter. How she’d married Claudio and they could provide a stable home for the child.
In his head, the voices were coming out deep and distorted as if a recording was being played at a slow rate of speed under water. It felt as if someone had inserted a giant screwdriver into his chest and had twisted it to the right. Righty tighty, he thought inanely.
Was it lingering effects from the concussion? Or raw fear?
He understood what was being said, but it was as if he couldn’t absorb it. Lamar pointing out how Rhett changed from a rambling rodeo cowboy into a father and husband. Lamar was some kind of spin doctor, laying it on thick how Rhett was a valuable member of his community, how Tara was a NICU nurse with the requisite skills to care for a preemie.
But Rhona’s lawyer was just as adept. She’d learned the error of her ways, she was repentant, yada, yada. She had a husband now who desperately wanted her and the baby she’d fathered with another man. Claudio did not care that she’d strayed; he loved her that much. Claudio came from a culture that was all about family. He would love and raise Julie as if she were his own daughter.
At that, Rhett glanced at Claudio again. His rival’s handsome face mocked him. Eyes narrowed, chin hardened. He mouthed a silent obscenity.
Anger blasted through him. Not so much at Claudio’s cockiness, but at the thought of his daughter being raised by him. Claudio did not love Julie. He might not even love Rhona, although the brawl he’d had with Rhett suggested that maybe he did. Either way, his love for Rhona was not his primary motivation.
Claudio was all about winning. He lived it, breathed it, thought about nothing but winning. On the back of a bull, in bed with a woman, in the courtroom trying to steal another man’s daughter.
Rhett knew because once upon a time winning had been his end-all, be-all. But right now, he’d give every trophy, every accolade, every penny he would make in prize money to Claudio, if he and Tara could just get custody of Julie.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was really only about twenty minutes, Lamar and Rhona’s lawyer concluded their arguments.
Judge Brando sat stone-faced, unmoved and unmoving. The courtroom was pin-drop silent. She steepled her fingers, turned her cold stare first at Rhett and then at Rhona. “We’ll recess for lunch,” she said in a sharp clip. “I’ll give you my ruling upon our return.” She picked up her gavel, smashed it down hard enough to make everyone jump. “Court dismissed. We’ll resume at two p.m.”
Pacing the marble hallway outside the courtroom, Rhett ripped off his tie, wadded it in his fist. Tried not to make eye contact with Claudio and Rhona as they scurried toward the exit with their attorney.
He ground his teeth, struggling to get a handle on his fear. Recalled something Tara had told him once. You can choose courage, or you can choose comfortable, but you can’t have both. It hadn’t made sense at the time she’d said it to him, but now he totally got where she was coming from.
She was right. He’d chosen courage, going all in on fatherhood, and he had not been comfortable since. On any other day, he would have been proud of his choice. But today, on the day he’d come to fight for his daughter, he could feel her slipping away from him. And he realized he wasn’t merely uncomfortable; he was steeped in raw, aching pain.
Tara touched his arm. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
He jerked back from her, saw hurt flit across her face, but she quickly schooled her features to a calm, neutral position. “I’m not hungry. You go ahead.”
“You skipped breakfast. You need to eat.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snarled, and the second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Tara was only trying to help the only way she knew how, through nurturing. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m just upset.”
“I know.” She hovered a hand over him. She wanted to touch him, but she was giving him his space.
“I . . . you . . .” He looked her in the eyes. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
Her dark eyes lit with alarm. “You sound like you’re giving up.”
He shook his head. “Judge Brando is going to give Julie to Rhona.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“So you’re a mind reader now?”
“I don’t know what’s in her heart and mind. All I know is that I’ve got that same feeling I did on the back of Widow Marker just before he went vertical and I knew I wasn’t going to stick.”
“Gut instinct?”
He nodded, pressed a fist to his belly.
She moved to touch his back but stopped herself before she did. “Try not to project.”
“Now you’re sounding like a therapist.”
Tara cleared her throat, folded her hands over her chest. As a barrier against him? Or an attempt to control her urge to nurture? “How can I support you without upsetting you?”
“Go get yourself something to eat.” He threw her the keys to his truck.
“You won’t come?” She sounded infinitely sad.
He shook his head. “I’d be miserable company.”
“Do you want me to bring you something back? Tacos?”
“I can’t eat.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go.” He hardened his features because he wanted so badly to give in and allow her to comfort him. But he had to stay strong. Had to prepare himself for the verdict he knew was coming. Had to be strong for her, because when Judge Brando gave Julie to Rhona and it fully sank in on Tara what it meant, she was going to need his strength.
She hesitated.
“Go,” he insisted, desperate to protect her. “And please don’t come back at two.”
She gasped, looked as if he’d hauled off and slapped her. Raised a trembling hand to her cheek. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“How will you get home?”
“I’ll get Lamar to bring me by.”
“That’s out of his way.”
“I’ll find someone.”
“But not me?”
“No.”
That came out far harsher than he’d intended. He wasn’t upset with her, far from it. That’s why he was sending her away. He yearned to fall hopeless into the circle of her arms, stay in that sweet, comfortable spot for the rest of his life. He couldn’t afford that luxury. Not today.
A single tear rolled down the side of her nose. He wanted so badly to reach out to her, draw her back to him. Beg her forgiveness.
But if he didn’t get Julie, and he knew in his heart of hearts that he’d already lost her—the slight smile Judge Brando had directed at Rhona before the break convinced him—he didn’t want Tara to see him fall apart.
“Rhett,” she whispered.
“Go,” he growled. He had to get her out of here before he collapsed. “Just go, dammit.”
She pursed her lips together, blinked hard against the tears now streaming down her face. “As you wish.”
Turning, she walked away, leaving him broken and lame in a way no bucking bull ever could.
Unable to accept Rhett’s demand—she knew he was just hurting and lashing out—Tara returned to the trial at two. She understood he was terrified of losing Julie and she tried not to take it personally. She was not going to allow his fear to chase her off.
But she waited until the last minute to slip in, when he was distracted by the proceedings, and took a spot at the back of the courtroom.
The family was assembled. Tara had put out a call to them all after Rhett told her he knew they’d lost. Lockharts and Alzates presenting a united front. Ridge, Duke, Vivi, Kaia. Archer and Casey were there too. Mom and Dad were watching the kids at their place. Rhona had no one but Claudio and her legal team in her corner. Tara and Rhett had a village.
Kaia turned and spied Tara, motioned for her to join them.
Tara shook her head. Rhett had made it clear he didn’t want her here. Kaia lifted her shoulders, looked confused. Tara twirled her finger, indicating that her sister should turn back around. Family was a blessing, but sometimes they could really gum up the works.
Judge Brando returned to the bench. Took an extraordinarily long amount of time to sort herself out. Swallowed a glass of water. Cleared her throat. Shuffled through papers.
Tara’s nerves frayed. C’mon, lady, spit it out. She watched Rhett’s back, saw his shoulders drop and his spine stiffen as he prepared himself for Judge Brando’s ruling. Tara crossed the fingers of both hands, closed her eyes, sent up a quick little prayer. Please, please.
“I’ve made my decision,” Judge Brando announced.
The courtroom inhaled a collective breath.
Judge Brando swept a glance from Rhett to Rhona. Tara wished she could see his face. “Temporary custody of the minor child, Julie Elizabeth Lockhart, shall be transferred to the child’s mother, Rhona White Limon. Permanency hearing to be held December 9.”