31

DEIRDRE STOOD in the main corridor of the courthouse and waited with Phoebe. All around her, barristers and laymen hurried to their appointments, but amid the bustle, there was no sign of Matthew or Mr. Bancroft.

Matthew had disappeared to confer with the lawyer and Judge Blackthorn before Phoebe went in to see him. He meant to ensure the judge would respect Phoebe’s boundaries and also to make certain there would be no mention of an engagement, false or otherwise.

“Miss Deirdre?” Phoebe’s small voice drifted up to her.

“Yes, honey?”

“What do I have to say?”

Deirdre bent to her level. “The judge will ask you about your father and about your grandparents. Answer as honestly as you can.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “Will you come with me?”

Deirdre’s heart swelled. She would love nothing more, but she doubted the judge would allow it. “I wish I could, sweetie. But your daddy and I will be right outside the door, and if you feel uncomfortable, just tell the judge, and he’ll let us in.”

Deirdre looked up to see Matthew coming toward them, his face pinched with worry. “It’s time.”

Phoebe turned her face into Deirdre’s shoulder.

“It’s all right,” she soothed the child. “Judge Blackthorn is a very nice man. I promise.”

Phoebe lifted her head. “Okay.” The trust in her eyes nearly undid Deirdre’s control.

She gave Phoebe a squeeze, then rose with the girl’s hand firmly in hers. Matthew threw her a worried glance over Phoebe’s head as he took his daughter’s other hand.

Standing in front of the judge’s chambers, nerves fluttered in Deirdre’s stomach. So much was riding on Phoebe’s interview. She prayed the girl wouldn’t do anything to harm Matthew’s case.

Matthew knocked twice, and the judge answered, “Come in.”

They entered the chambers and found the judge sitting in one of the guest chairs. He rose to smile at Phoebe. “Hello, young lady. You must be Phoebe.”

She nodded.

“Come and sit down, and we’ll have a little chat.”

Deirdre helped her onto the chair. “Remember, after this, we’ll go for some ice cream.” Deirdre kissed her good-bye, praying the girl wouldn’t pick this time to go mute again.

Matthew also bent to whisper something in her ear and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll be right outside the door,” he said, staring at the judge.

“Understood. We won’t be long.”

Minutes passed like hours as they waited. Deirdre couldn’t remain seated on the hard wooden benches that lined the corridor. She had to pace to expend her nervous energy.

At last, the door opened and Phoebe skipped out with a happy smile, a green lollipop clutched in her hand. “The judge said I did really good and gave me a lollipop, just like the doctors in the hospital.”

Dizzy with relief, Deirdre laughed. “That’s wonderful.” She looked at Judge Blackthorn and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

He gave her a wink, then turned to Matthew. “That’s a bright young lady you have there, Doctor.”

Matthew seemed to sag with relief. “Thank you, sir. What happens now?”

Judge Blackthorn folded his arms over his broad chest. “Why don’t you get Phoebe her ice cream? Once I review my notes and spend some time in prayer, I will make my decision.” He smiled and disappeared back into his chambers.

Deirdre released a long breath. Lord, infuse Judge Blackthorn with your wisdom and help him make the best decision for Matthew and Phoebe.

After Matthew conferred briefly with Mr. Bancroft, the three of them collected their coats and made their way outside onto the sidewalk. A cold gust of wind blew Deirdre’s coat around her legs. She reached up to secure her hat.

Matthew stepped in front of her and leaned in close. “After this, I need you to take Phoebe home.” His intense blue gaze bore into hers.

“But the verdict . . .” She trailed off at the stubborn set to his jaw.

“I don’t want her there, just in case . . .” A muscle worked in his throat.

In case the judge grants custody to the Pentergasts.

“Please, Deirdre, can you do this for me?”

She swallowed her grief and nodded. “All right.”

The pain in Matthew’s eyes caused her throat to seize. If only she could give him a hug, offer him comfort.

With a forced smile, he held out his hand to Phoebe. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get that ice cream.”

Matthew breathed into his hands and rubbed them together, pacing the halls of the courthouse. He could not get warm no matter what he did, and it wasn’t due to the cold weather. Desperate pleas arose in his mind, pleas he couldn’t quite form into a prayer. He couldn’t bear to think about losing Phoebe. Or what his life might look like then.

He stood at the bottom of the great split staircase and stared up at the immense stained-glass window that graced the wall above. A lady holding a flag shook hands with a laborer. What did she represent? Justice? Liberty? Would justice be served today with the judge’s decision? And if so, whose version of justice?

If only Matthew knew whether the judge was sympathetic to his cause. He’d tried to gently question Phoebe as to what she had told the man, but other than talking about her puppy, he got nothing out of her. Yet Matthew felt his daughter’s words would be the key to the judge’s decision.

Matthew scrubbed a hand over his face, thankful that Deirdre had taken Phoebe home. At least he didn’t have to put on a brave face for them, or attempt to keep them calm. He could wallow in his nerves and face his fate alone.

Lord, I need your strength. I don’t think I can do this without you.

Footsteps echoed across the tiles. “Dr. Clayborne. The judge is ready.” Mr. Bancroft’s solemn demeanor did nothing to ease Matthew’s anxiety.

He nodded and followed his lawyer back to the courtroom. As he walked up the aisle to the front of the room, he couldn’t help but glance at the empty seat Deirdre had occupied earlier. A twinge of regret pinched his heart, but he forced himself to take his place.

Matthew glanced across the room to where Terrence Pentergast stood with his arm around his wife. Were they as nervous as he, or were they confident of their victory?

Matthew lowered his head over his entwined hands, searching for a prayer, anything to ease the worry that choked the breath from his lungs.

From behind him, a warm hand squeezed his shoulder. The tension radiating through him eased slightly. Victor had managed to get away from the hospital after all. He twisted in his chair to look behind him, and his mouth gaped open.

Deirdre stood beside Victor, a tremulous smile on her lips.

“Victor.” Matthew shook his hand. “Thank you for coming. But . . .” He frowned at Deirdre. “Where is Phoebe?”

“I asked Aunt Maimie to watch her. I hope you don’t mind.”

A host of emotions sifted through Matthew—relief, regret, fear. But then she reached across the small wall separating them and took his hand with a smile that warmed him through to his core.

“I couldn’t let you go through this alone,” she whispered. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.” A sheen of moisture rimmed her luminous green eyes.

The immenseness of his gratitude swept every word from his mind. All he could manage was a single nod and a squeeze of her fingers in return.

A door at the front of the courtroom opened, and the official entered.

“All rise. His Honor Judge Aloysius Blackthorn presiding.”

Everyone stood as the judge took his place.

“Be seated. This court is once again in session.”

Matthew sat, fearing the thudding of his heart could be heard across the room. With supreme effort, he focused on the words the judge was saying.

“I thank you all for your patience in this matter. Though it pains me to take sides in this case, I have reached a decision.” He looked at the Pentergasts and then at Matthew.

From his inscrutable expression, Matthew could not glean any clue as to which way he had ruled.

“Cases such as this are some of the hardest ones to hear. Both sides are caring, upright members of society. Both men are physicians, dedicated to serving others, with sterling reputations. And both parties obviously share a deep love for the little girl in question.”

Matthew’s tongue seemed pasted to the roof of his mouth. He dared not blink lest he miss one word uttered.

“Because of such evenly matched sides, I chose to interview Phoebe herself in order to ascertain from the child’s perspective who would be best suited to meet her needs, both physical and emotional.” A smile tugged the judge’s lips. “And indeed she helped clarify the matter immensely.”

Matthew’s stomach clenched. Phoebe adored her grandparents. What if she’d told the judge how wonderful they were? What if she’d said something damaging about Matthew? About his working all the time, or the strict nanny he’d left her with for most of her childhood?

Beads of sweat gathered under his shirt collar as he viewed the situation from a judge’s perspective. Of course Terrence and Helen would be the obvious choice. Terrence was retired and, other than sitting on several hospital boards, had plenty of time to devote to his granddaughter. And Helen, despite her haughty ways, could give Phoebe a woman’s love and guidance, something she would lack under his roof.

Tremors rushed through him. The blood pounded in his ears so that he couldn’t hear a thing. The judge’s lips moved, but Matthew couldn’t seem to understand what he was saying.

“. . . so while I’m assured that both parties have their strengths and their weaknesses, I have followed my conscience, as well as a wise piece of advice I received in my chambers, and . . .” He paused to direct his gaze to Matthew. “For the present time, I have chosen to leave Phoebe in the care of her father.”

An explosive gasp came from the Pentergasts’ table.

Matthew sat frozen in place, not daring to believe his ears.

Judge Blackthorn glared at Mr. Whitmore, then turned his attention back to Matthew. “You may have noticed I stipulated for the present time. I have scheduled a follow-up meeting in six months’ time to make sure certain conditions are being met. One of which is adequate visitation for Dr. and Mrs. Pentergast. I feel they have a right to play an active role in Phoebe’s life. And I also believe it to be in Phoebe’s best interest to have frequent contact with her grandparents.” He paused to stare at Matthew. “I hope I don’t hear any objections to this, Dr. Clayborne?”

Matthew cleared his throat. “No, Your Honor.”

“Good.” The judge turned to the Pentergasts. “And in return, I expect you to dispense with any animosity you might still harbor toward your former son-in-law. I’d like you to consider yourself a team working toward a common goal—the happiness of your granddaughter. Is this clear?”

Terrence turned to give his wife a pointed look. “Yes, sir,” he said gravely.

“Then if everyone is in accordance, I pronounce this case closed. Mr. Bancroft, you may pick up the paperwork in my chambers.” He banged the gavel.

Once the judge left the room, Mr. Bancroft extended his hand. “Congratulations, Matthew.”

Matthew grasped it in sincere gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Bancroft. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

“Glad to be of service. I’ll get those papers to you.”

Matthew turned, seeking the one person he needed. Deirdre’s face was pressed against Victor’s suit jacket. She lifted her head, and the tears streaming down her cheeks tore a strip off Matthew’s already raw heart. She pushed past the few spectators and came through the swinging doors. He moved toward her, unprepared for her to throw her arms around him and bury her face in his neck.

“Oh, Matthew. God heard our prayers.”

He enveloped her trembling frame in his arms and closed his eyes to pinch back the sting of tears. Tears of gratitude that God had seen fit to give him another chance with his daughter. Tears of gratitude for the woman in his arms. He didn’t care who saw him hugging Deirdre. He craved her comfort, knowing she shared his joy and relief.

Deirdre pulled away and drew a handkerchief up to her nose.

Victor clapped Matthew on the back. “Congratulations, Matthew. Maimie and I are very happy for you.”

“Thank you, Victor.” Matthew’s voice turned to gravel.

Victor nodded. “I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

As he walked away, Terrence Pentergast approached the table, a somber expression on his face.

Deirdre took a step back. “I’ll wait with Uncle Victor.”

Matthew didn’t want her to go but conceded it might be for the best.

Terrence made no move to shake Matthew’s hand. Lines ravaged his face. Behind him, Matthew caught a glimpse of Helen’s stony countenance.

Warring emotions filtered through Matthew’s system, temporarily overriding the joy of his victory. He couldn’t forget the angst these people had put him through. Still, he knew the Pentergasts must be suffering a great loss. He could be magnanimous and hold out the proverbial olive branch. “I hope we can put our differences aside once and for all. For Phoebe’s sake.”

Terrence studied him for several seconds. “You’re willing to do that?”

“Of course. You’re Phoebe’s grandparents. She loves you both very much. I would never interfere with that.”

Terrence’s brow wrinkled. “And what of Miss O’Leary?”

“What about her?”

“It’s clear you share a strong connection. What if you do decide to marry? Will you move to New York?”

Matthew’s shoulders stiffened. “No one is getting married. And no one is moving anywhere.” Especially now with the judge’s ruling.

The man’s brow relaxed, and he heaved a loud exhale. “Could we perhaps work out a visitation schedule?” The hope in his eyes drew out Matthew’s compassion.

“That sounds like a good idea.” He held out his hand in a true gesture of reconciliation. “I hope we can put the past behind us and move forward. We need to work together, for Phoebe’s sake.”

Terrence’s lips twisted. “Helen might be harder to convince, but I’m willing if you are.” He shook Matthew’s hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

With that, he returned to his wife’s side.

Matthew let out a long breath. Perhaps another prayer had been answered and the Pentergasts would at last forgive him for not being able to save their daughter’s life.

Perhaps now he could learn to forgive himself.