MORGAN FOLLOWED TARA into the comfortable kitchen of the Hawkins ranch with a fair amount of trepidation. Kissing the girl for saving the day had been one of his better ideas. At least in his mind. The dozen sets of eyes staring at him when he’d pulled away from Tara hadn’t been quite as...enthusiastic.
Before he could recover, though, an older woman had come out of the house and called everyone inside. Lunch was ready, and even his unexpected arrival wasn’t about to stop this crew from eating. She bustled around the kitchen, putting huge platters of food on the big wooden table.
“Have a seat.” The woman smiled and waved them toward the table.
Morgan would have liked Tara to sit with them, but she was bustling around, too, not meeting his eye.
“Daddy?” Brooke’s tiny voice broke through the din the same way it broke his heart. He’d never heard a more beautiful sound. He had to fight to swallow the lump in his throat.
“Yeah, baby?” He sat beside Brooke and barely resisted the urge to scoop her up in his arms again. She felt so small against him.
“Don’t go away.”
“No, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”
Brooke snuggled close and held on tight. He could keep her here like this forever. Slowly, she pulled back just a little, so she could look up at him. “Mama said you didn’t want us no more.”
He didn’t say, “Mama lied,” though the words were on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe she misunderstood. I’ll always want you.” Right now wasn’t the time to bash Sylvie or let the reality of what they still had to deal with—custody—into the situation. Now was the time for him to just hold and love his little girl.
“Are we gonna go home?” she asked.
“Yeah, soon.” He smiled at her, feeling the warmth of her grin wash over him.
“Welcome to our home.” A slim, young woman moved along the table, filling water glasses from a pitcher. “I’m Emily Hawkins.” She extended her hand to him, and he took it, surprised at the strength in her handshake. “It’s been nice having Brooke visit us.”
Her eyes were astute and never wavered as she looked at him. Moving away, she sidled up next to Wyatt and got a brief kiss for her efforts. The cowboy was a lucky man, if the love shining in her eyes was any indication. Morgan glanced at Tara, not sure what to think.
“Thanks for having us,” Morgan said to the entire room, his voice quickly drowned by the chaos of the crowd. The mounds of food soon disappeared, leaving empty plates behind. This had to be where Tara had learned to cook.
Finally, Wyatt and his men prepared to get back to work, gathering at the door. A young cowboy stuck his head around the corner. “Hey, Boss. Dutch is back.” A puzzled look passed between the ranch owner and his wife. Morgan glanced at Tara, who’d kept her distance through the meal and was now sitting quietly beside her brother on the other side of the table. Her face paled and she clasped her hands together.
“Who’s Dutch?” Morgan asked Tara, not sure if he was butting into family business.
“The sheriff,” Wade volunteered from the counter where he was helping the cook—whose name Morgan had learned was Juanita, and who was married to the ranch’s foreman. “Maybe he’s got news about the diner.”
Morgan had nearly forgotten about the diner, his truck, the flooding—all of it had vanished as soon as he’d seen Brooke. The sadness in Tara’s eyes brought it all slamming back.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” an older, burly man with a badge on his chest said from the doorway.
Morgan barely had time to register that before Sylvie burst into the room.
“There you are,” Sylvie said, strutting to where Brooke stood hugging Morgan’s side. “Come on, Brooke, it’s time to go.”
Brooke only pushed closer to Morgan, hiding her face against his leg. “Don’t wanna.”
That’s when Sylvie did what Morgan had feared she’d do earlier. Her temper flashed in her eyes as she rounded on him. “What did you say to her?” She turned to the sheriff. “Arrest him, Sheriff.”
“Uh, ma’am, why exactly would I do that?”
“He took my daughter and put her at risk.” Sylvie reached for Brooke’s arm. “Come on, Brooke.”
“No!” the little girl cried and tried to pull away from Sylvie’s hold.
“That’s enough, Sylvie.” Morgan’s hands were fisted at his side, but he relaxed enough to put his arm around Brooke’s shoulders. “You’ve traumatized her enough.”
“Traumatized? See?” Again, she turned to the sheriff. “This is why you need to arrest him. I realize this is the boonies, but surely you know how to arrest someone.”
Brooke’s sob broke the quiet of the room, and Morgan bent to lift her into his arms. She snuggled against his shoulder, reminding him of when she’d been a baby and he’d walked the floor to soothe her to sleep. The idea of Sylvie being able to take her again was like a knife in his gut. He couldn’t let her go.
“Now, ma’am, let’s calm down here.” Dutch stepped forward, nearly in between them. “Wyatt, you got someplace private we can all go for a chat?”
Wyatt nodded. “You can use the den. Follow me.” Wyatt led the way into a room with a fireplace and a bar that covered an entire wall. On the opposite end of the room, a large, wooden desk sat in front of a picture window that overlooked half the county. It was beautiful.
Was this where Tara had grown up? Morgan couldn’t help but feel the inadequacy of his own past in comparison. She entered after everyone else had gotten settled, hanging back by the door.
“This is ridiculous,” Sylvie started to say as soon as everyone stepped inside. “Brooke and I are leaving. Now.”
“You’re welcome to leave, Sylvie,” Morgan said through clenched teeth. “Brooke isn’t going anywhere with you.”
“Wanna bet?” Again, Sylvie reached for their daughter.
“That’s enough.” Emily might be small, but her voice carried across the room. She’d come in at the head of this group and was seated behind the massive desk.
“And who the hell are you?” Sylvie stood with her hands on her hips. Morgan thought he actually saw the woman’s lips twitch with a smile.
Brooke clung to Morgan’s neck, her arms nearly too tight.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, wishing this weren’t happening in front of Brooke. She didn’t need to see this.
Needing to feel grounded, he looked at Tara, who was leaning against the wall just inside the doors. She wasn’t looking at him, but seeing her there eased some of the tension in his chest. She glared at Sylvie with more venom than he’d thought possible.
“I’m Emily Hawkins.” She looked directly at Sylvie. “Judge Emily Hawkins, senior magistrate in family court.” She didn’t even blink. “I took temporary custody of your daughter last evening, when it was apparent neither of her parents were around to look after her well-being.”
“Excuse me?” Sylvie glared. “I left her with a babysitter. She—” Sylvie pointed at Tara. “She took her and...and kidnapped her.”
“You sure that’s the story you want to go with?” Emily looked at Tara, then at Sylvie.
“It’s true.”
“No, it’s not.” Brooke said, lifting her head but not loosening her grip. Her bottom lip trembled, but it didn’t stop her from speaking. “I went there all by myself. She made me grilled cheeses.”
Morgan wanted to hug his daughter tighter. For once, that independent streak of hers was a blessing.
Sylvie turned and frowned at Brooke. “What have I told you about talking when you’re not supposed to?” Sylvie snapped. “We’ll discuss your disobedience later. We’re leaving. Now.”
“Not so fast.” Emily stood then. “Dutch. I’m pretty sure my courtroom is unavailable due to the flooding.”
“Yeah. The entire courthouse is closed off today.”
“Can you give me a hand? I’m calling an emergency hearing here. Now.”
“What are you talking about?” Sylvie looked around the room as if they were all crazy.
Morgan almost felt sorry for her. Almost. “Sylvie, quit while you’re ahead. Judge Hawkins said she works for family court.” He walked over to her, still not letting go of Brooke. “Right now, neither of us has custody. Sorry, baby.” He patted Brooke’s back, wishing he could protect her from what was going on.
“You can’t do that,” Sylvie told Emily.
“Actually, she can.” The sheriff stepped forward. “And she is.”
“Brooke is my daughter. Mine.”
“She’s our daughter,” Morgan corrected her. “But we could both lose her if you don’t cut it out.”
“You’re the one screwing this up, Morgan. Just like you’ve screwed up everything else.”
“Stop it!” Brooke squirmed and let go of Morgan’s neck. “Let me go.”
Morgan instantly put his daughter on the ground, his heart hurting as he waited for her to go over to Sylvie. Everyone in the room watched as she yanked the purple dragon from its spot on the couch, then ran over to Tara. Thankfully, Tara knelt beside the girl and gave her a hug.
“Daddy?” Brooke’s voice wobbled, shaking his heart just a bit. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” he lied. He hadn’t a clue how any of this was going to work out.
Sylvie stared at Tara, like angry darts flying through the air. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sylvie took a step toward Brooke and Morgan went to follow.
Emily stepped in instead. “I’d suggest you think about what you say and do next.” Her glare was hard, but it all vanished when she knelt beside Brooke. “Remember how last night we talked about following the rules and making everything right?”
Brooke nodded, still leaning against Tara’s side.
“This is part of that. Now I need to talk to your parents. Is that okay with you?” Emily waited patiently, giving Brooke a sense of control, something he doubted she’d had much of in the last year.
Brooke looked at Morgan, then at Sylvie, then finally, surprisingly, at Tara. Tara nodded, and Brooke pushed away from her side. “Okay.”
“Maybe Juanita can take you to the barns to see the horses while we talk,” Emily suggested. “Would you like that?”
Juanita stepped forward then, crouching beside Emily. Brooke looked at Morgan and the indecision in her eyes was almost too painful to see, but he couldn’t look away. He had to be strong for his daughter.
Brooke was hesitant to go with Juanita—afraid Morgan would leave her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her. “Not without you.”
How long would it take for her trust to return? Would it ever?
“You got real horses?” Brooke turned to Juanita.
“We do.” Juanita smiled. “And Tyler even has pigs, Pork Chop and Hamlet, down the hill.”
Brooke actually laughed and his heart squeezed. “Those are funny names.”
The tension in the room eased, and Morgan unclenched his fists. “Go with Juanita. I’ll be right here when you come back. I swear.” Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“I’ll be waiting, too.” Sylvie tried to sound sincere. He was being uncharitable, but a year of worry and anger was more than his charity could overcome. Sylvie did a bad job of hiding her need to win Brooke back. She’d never been good at sharing what she believed was hers. Morgan just wished she cared more about what Brooke wanted.
Slowly, Brooke nodded. After she took Juanita’s hand, Tara leaned down. “Why don’t you leave Lanara here? The horses might be scared of a dragon.”
“Oh...okay.” She extended the stuffed animal to Tara. “But only you get her. She likes you.” Tara softly gasped, then slowly nodded. His heart squeezed.
“We’ll be right back,” Juanita said. Brooke looked over her shoulder all the way to the door. The room fell silent after they left.
“Let’s get started,” Emily said, her voice easily filling the room as she resettled behind the desk.
It hurt that his daughter had wanted away from him, that she was having to go through this mess that he and Sylvie had made of their lives.
* * *
TARA WATCHED BROOKE LEAVE, realizing what an amazing daughter Morgan had. She knew how scared Brooke was of her father leaving her, of going back with her mother, but it humbled Tara that Brooke trusted her. She couldn’t let the girl down.
She knew everyone expected Emily to speak, but Tara surprised them by stepping forward, holding up the stuffed dragon. “You all need to see this.”
“I told her to throw that ratty thing away,” Sylvie said. “I didn’t know she still had it.”
“Morgan, turn it over,” Tara whispered, ignoring Sylvie’s outburst.
He did as she asked and she saw the pain flash in his eyes. The pinned-together back of the stuffed animal made it look even more disreputable. The safety pins looked so out of place against the matted fur.
“Why didn’t you fix it for her?” Morgan softly asked Sylvie.
“Duh. You know I can’t sew.”
Poor Brooke had put up with a torn toy because of it. Tara reached past Morgan when he didn’t move. His heat washed over her, and she wanted to put her arms around him and hold on tight. This was going to hurt him. But Emily needed to see this, and he had to know.
“Brooke didn’t want it fixed,” Tara whispered. She opened the pins and pulled the fabric apart.
“What the—?” Morgan looked at Tara, then at what she was doing. She reached inside and pulled out the crumpled photo.
“She’s been carrying this around.” Tara put the photo in the center of the desk. “She had to hide it here from you,” she said to Sylvie, barely controlling the accusation in her voice. “This says a whole lot about what that little girl has wanted for the last year.” She faced Emily.
Watching the hurt and realization dawn in Morgan’s eyes cut through Tara. He’d been trying so hard to find Brooke, and the confirmation that she’d wanted him to find her was overwhelming to them all. Even Sylvie stared silently at the picture.
“I—I didn’t know,” she whispered.
Angry words flew through Tara’s mind, but she pressed her lips together. It wasn’t her place to voice an opinion about how Sylvie had ignored her daughter. It wasn’t her place to hurt Morgan more.
Emily, however, had no such qualms. “My guess is that you were too busy to pay attention to your daughter.” The anger in Emily’s voice was stronger than Tara had ever heard. “Just like you ignored her last night, when she could have drowned in those floodwaters.”
“I paid for a babysitter.” Sylvie tried to defend herself, but even she looked defeated.
Emily leaned back in Wyatt’s big desk chair. “I’m not going to make any final rulings today. There will need to be another full hearing.” Emily paused for a long time, thinking. Tara wished she could read her sister-in-law’s mind.
Finally, she spoke again. “But we are going to settle a few things. Morgan, I know your attorney has filed a motion for full custody. I’ve read it.” She looked up from the computer screen. “Is that still what you want?”
Morgan didn’t hesitate. “It’s not about what I want.” He took a deep breath. “It’s about what’s best for Brooke.”
“Give me a break,” Sylvie said under her breath.
Emily looked at Sylvie. “Do you have something to say at this point?”
Emily gave Sylvie every chance to explain her comment. Tara held her breath, hoping for Brooke’s sake that for once Sylvie could put her daughter before herself.
“She’s my daughter.” Sylvia said and Tara’s hopes faded. “I know what’s best for her.”
“Taking her away from her home, from a father she obviously loves and who loves her in return is in her best interest how?” Emily asked.
“You saw how she reacts when we talk to each other.” Sylvie threw her arms wide. “I had to get away.”
“For a year?” Emily asked.
“Yes. I had things to do. Being a truck driver’s wife sucks.”
“Hmm.” Emily paused before she asked, “If Brooke hadn’t gone to Tara’s diner, if we weren’t here today, would you have any plans to take your daughter to her father?”
Morgan’s sharp intake of breath was loud in the room.
“Why would I do that?”
Tara closed her eyes, afraid of what Morgan was feeling and thinking. When she opened her eyes again, he hadn’t moved, but his gaze dark. His anger and anguish filled the room.
“Morgan?” Emily’s voice broke in, and he slowly returned his gaze to Emily.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m granting your motion for full custody. It’s temporary, until a formal hearing can be held.”
Tara figured this was the part where Emily would probably bang a gavel or something if they were in an actual courtroom. She’d never been in Emily’s courtroom, but she had a feeling it was a fair and just place.
“But—” Sylvie tried to protest.
“Don’t push your luck.” Emily faced Sylvie. “I get the impression you took that little girl away from her father a year ago for no other reason than spite. You’re the one who’s put her at risk. You’ve barely taken care of her.” Emily’s anger was rising.
“I did my best.”
“Maybe,” Emily conceded. “But it’s time for someone besides you to judge that. Dutch?”
“Yes?” The older man stepped forward.
“You’re my court witness on this. I know you don’t file motions, but can you put that in your report and submit it to my clerk?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure can.” The older man didn’t even bother to hide his grin.
“You’re all crazy.” Sylvie stomped her foot, the thick carpet stealing most of her thunder.
“You’re right. The court will be looking more closely into this, if for no other reason than to settle custody of Brooke over the long haul.”
Sylvie walked toward Morgan. “This isn’t over.”
Morgan sighed, but the look he gave her lacked any anger. Tara wondered what he was thinking, what he was looking for.
“Sylvie, get your act together. Figure you out. I won’t take Brooke away from you. You’re her mom, she loves you, but we have to do what’s best for her right now.”
Time ticked by as their gazes clashed. Sylvie’s eyes shone, but whatever emotion she was feeling, whatever thoughts she’d let in, she quickly blinked away. Her eyes turned cold again and she stalked out of the room. The kitchen door slammed behind her.
Emily sighed, turning to Morgan. “She’s probably right. This isn’t over.”
“I know.” He smiled. “But it’s better than it’s been in ages. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m just doing my job.” She turned to Dutch. “Guess we’d better make sure she doesn’t try to take Brooke again.”
“Oh, I’m her ride. She ain’t going nowhere.” The older man nodded but headed to the door. “Besides, she’d have to get her away from Juanita.”
“That’s something I’d almost like to see.” Emily laughed and smiled at Morgan. “Go get your daughter. I think she’ll be happy.”
“Thank you.” Morgan’s voice cracked. “Thank you all.”
Tara watched him leave, watched the gratitude shine in his eyes. Wishing for so much more, she heard his silent goodbye.