Chapter Twenty-Four

Willow

The little brick building that served as both the Town Hall and Alba’s municipal court was packed to the brim with just about every local who wasn’t tending their shop in the historic district.

Xander already had the home-field advantage, seeing as his office was right across the hall, and he looked more than comfortable in his suit across the aisle, sitting with Milton Sanders, his attorney.

I sat on the bench behind Cam and Simon, who had their heads together in a conversation I couldn’t hear, even four feet away.

“I’ve never seen so many people here,” Charity noted as she slid in next to me. She was dressed similarly to me, wearing a simple sheath dress and pearls, just like our mother, who scooted in next to Charity.

“Or heard so many,” Mom added. “They’ve got Scott Malone turning people away at the door.”

We weren’t exactly built or staffed for such a public case, considering that we had an active courthouse only because Dad was willing to split his time between here and Salida. No other judge was volunteering to come up the pass.

“Of course Genevieve is sitting behind Xander,” Charity said with a shake of her head.

“But Pat, Gideon, and John are behind us,” Mom reported after a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Good morning, ladies.” Walt slid in behind us with Dorothy Powers.

“They didn’t sequester you?” Mom asked with raised brows.

“Nope. Deposition yesterday,” Dorothy replied. “Art is finishing up with that psychologist, and then he’ll be in, too.”

“Again?” Charity questioned.

“They’re hoping he’ll be lucid enough to testify.” I kept my eyes forward and saw Simon shake his head. Cam didn’t look pleased at whatever that was the answer to. “He wasn’t all there the first time the doc interviewed him, but he was pretty lucid at last week’s appointment. Why don’t you guys come up here?” I looked back over my shoulder for the first time and saw they were closing the doors.

“I make him nervous.” Walt nodded toward his son with pride shining in his eyes.

Scott Malone let Art in, and Dorothy walked back to guide him up the aisle, where he eventually sat next to Cam, much to the muttering of the other side of the courtroom. I committed the image to memory, knowing I might not ever see Art take Cam’s side against Xander ever again.

The doors reopened, and Julie Hall hurried down the aisle with a manila envelope. She handed it to Cam, who tensed as he thanked her, then put it into the file he had in front of him without opening it.

That certainly got my curiosity piqued.

Peter Mayville, our bailiff, entered the front of the court, and Mary Murphy came in directly after to take her spot at the recorder’s desk. We were ready to start.

My heart slammed against my ribs at the thought of what was coming. How could I ever forgive my father for ruling against Cam in this? Against Art?

Cam looked back at me and winked.

I love you, I mouthed.

I love you, he echoed before turning back around.

“You two are nauseating,” Charity mumbled. “Not that I’m not happy you finally pulled your heads out of your asses, because that had to be the longest slow burn I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Charity! Language!” Mom snapped.

She merely rolled her eyes.

“You act like you’re the only person who knew what was going on,” Mom mumbled. “Who do you think distracted your dad while Willow snuck out to rescue all of Cam’s stuff that night? Huh?”

We both slowly turned our heads to look at her with wide eyes.

“You did what?” Dad asked as he slid in next to me.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she told him with a wifely smile that said he was better off not knowing.

“You talking about those boxes full of Cam’s things she had stacked in her closet for years?” he asked.

We all gawked at him.

“You knew?” I asked.

His jaw flexed twice. “I’m stubborn, Willow. Not stupid.”

I blinked, and then it hit me. “Wait, what are you doing—?”

“All rise!” Peter Mayville called out, and we did so. “The Alba Municipal Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Deborah Wilson presiding.”

My gaze snapped to my father, who stood, chin raised over an expertly knotted tie, as he watched someone else take his seat at the bench.

“You may be seated,” a feminine voice declared.

I was all too happy to, considering I already felt like I’d been knocked on my ass.

Peter announced the case, but all I heard was a buzzing in my head. “Dad?” I whispered, unable to look anywhere else.

He gave me a tight-lipped smile but didn’t speak.

“Good morning, all three Mr. Danielses,” Judge Wilson greeted the men facing her, and I took her in for the first time. She was about the same age as Dad, with classically beautiful Korean features and an equally classic French twist in her hair.

“Your Honor, if I may.” Milton Sanders stood. “We were told this case would be heard by Judge Bradley.” His voice pitched higher than usual as he finished.

I felt the weight of a thousand stares in our direction.

“Yes,” Judge Wilson responded with a smile. “I apologize for the confusion and the last-minute switch. Judge Bradley informed me he needed to recuse himself and asked if I would mind driving up to hear the case rather than going through a reschedule so close to the date. Since I had an opening, I agreed.”

Milton paled. “Thank you for the explanation, Your Honor. Could you tell us when the request was made?”

“Last night. Apparently, his daughter is in a relationship with one of the parties, and he felt he couldn’t be impartial.” She adjusted her thin-framed glasses. “The docket has been updated online, naturally.”

“Of course, Your Honor.” He leaned down and conferred with Xander as the courtroom buzzed with muffled commentary. “Your Honor, my client would like to request a continuance.”

“On what grounds?” she asked.

“On the grounds that this last-minute change has left us at a disadvantage and we’ll need extra time to prepare.” Milton sounded rockier than his reasoning.

“Your request is denied. An impartial judge is an impartial judge, and I assure you that I couldn’t care less about where Judge Bradley is seated. Also, the court psychologist has assured me that Arthur Daniels is capable of testimony today, and that’s not something I’m willing to risk losing, given his diagnosis. We’ll proceed as planned.”

Milton’s shoulders sagged as he sat.

“Mr. Robinson, since your client has moved to change the guardianship of Arthur Daniels, the floor is yours,” Judge Wilson stated.

As Simon stood to give his opening, I looked at Dad. “You recused yourself?” Emotion tangled my tongue and clogged my throat.

His eyes met mine, softening exponentially. “I’m stubborn, Willow. Not stupid,” he repeated with a wry smile. “I’ve presided over thousands of cases, and none of them—including this one—is worth losing my daughter over.” He looked around my head. “Either of my daughters.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Just remember that I’m sitting with you, Willow. You and Charity and your mother. Not him.” He nodded toward Cam. “You.”

“That’s more than enough.” I smiled slowly, and when I turned to watch Simon start his delivery, I caught Charity nodding at Dad.

Both sides delivered an opening, stating their cases as to why Art’s guardian should be their client. Both stood firmly on their stance with the DNR.

Cam was first on the stand.

He answered Simon’s questions easily, telling the judge about the voicemail that had brought him home and what it had been like to see Art on the respirator after he’d been poisoned by carbon monoxide.

“He did well,” Dad whispered as Milton rose to question Cam. “Strong, clear voice, sound reasoning, and no ill will harbored toward Xander. Very well.”

“If you ever decide to give up the bench, you could always go for a career in courtroom commentating,” I whispered.

He shot me a look that said he’d rather die.

Milton started in hard on Cam, asking about his estrangement with Art over the last decade. He then moved on to his return to Alba and painted a picture of Cam being an unstable drifter who couldn’t be depended on to stick around.

“On the contrary,” Cam argued. “I own property in Alba, have a voting membership in the Historical Society, and have two properties included in the district, one of which is projected to increase the income of the town by fifty percent. I’m in a committed relationship and recently offered my civil-engineering skills to the town’s electric company to upgrade Alba’s energy supply. The fact that I served in the military—as both my brothers also did—doesn’t make me a nomad.”

Milton flushed, and I almost fist pumped.

“What financial gain do you stand to receive in the event of Arthur Daniels’s death?” Milton asked, flipping through his file.

“I don’t understand the question,” Cam stated, his posture straight and his face relaxed.

“I mean that you’re pushing hard for a do-not-resuscitate order for a fifty-eight-year-old man. Isn’t it true that you stand to gain fifty percent of Arthur’s considerable land and financial holdings when he passes?” Milton’s insinuation sent a murmur through the crowd.

Judge Wilson looked over her glasses at Cam.

“I don’t stand to gain anything,” Cam stated.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just not true. His will states that you three receive equal shares, and since Sullivan has passed on, that leaves you and Xander at fifty percent.”

Cam blinked and looked at Simon.

“Your Honor, it appears Mr. Sanders is working off an older copy of Mr. Daniels’s will. If I could supply both him and the court with the valid copy?” Simon offered.

“Please do,” she responded.

Simon handed out the wills. “As you can see, this will is dated from five years ago, making it newer and therefore valid.”

“You prepared it!” Milton snapped. “How convenient.”

“It’s a small town, Your Honor.” Simon didn’t spare a glance for Milton. “It was actually my first document post–law school and was accepted by Judge Bradley.”

Judge Wilson flipped through the document. “This appears to be the valid will, Mr. Sanders.”

“As you can see, after the death of my younger brother, my father took me out of his will. Everything goes to Xander.” Cam stared at his brother.

Alexander was visibly shaken, his attention darting among Art, Cam, and the document in his hands.

“He didn’t know?” I asked.

“He didn’t,” Dad confirmed.

Milton gathered his thoughts quickly and conferred with Xander. Then he turned back to Cam. “Can you tell me about the bunkhouse fire?”

“Objection!” Simon snapped. “Immaterial!”

The crowd’s mutterings exploded.

“Order!” Judge Wilson demanded. “Keep it up, and we’ll close the courtroom.”

“Your Honor, this goes to the heart of his character.”

“How can something that happened almost a decade ago comment on his character?”

“Hey, your client is the one who brought up the properties in the Historical Society. The fact that there was a third, potentially profitable property matters when looking to his future.”

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Wilson ruled.

“What can you tell me about the bunkhouse fire?” Milton poked the bear.

Cam’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Our family owns what was the Rose Rowan bunkhouse. It burned down nine years ago. The summer I was nineteen.”

“Were you responsible for this catastrophic loss of a priceless historical site?”

“The fire was ruled accidental.” Cam’s voice hardened.

“And there was no mention of you in that report? Because I have it right here if you’d like to read it.” Milton sifted through his file.

Cam locked eyes with Xander.

“Mr. Daniels?” Milton prompted.

A look of utter betrayal passed over Cam’s features, and my heart sank.

“Mr. Daniels.” Judge Wilson’s voice brought Cam’s focus back to Milton.

“The report says that though the fire was ruled accidental, it was caused by my negligence.” Cam’s jaw flexed.

“And do you agree with that report?” Milton asked.

“Since I’m the one who admitted to it, it would be hard not to, wouldn’t you say?” Cam snapped.

“If you could simply answer the question.” Milton tilted his head slightly.

“I agree with it.”

Milton declared that he had no further questions, and Simon jumped on the chance to redirect. “Camden, how many years did you serve in the United States Army?”

“Nine.”

“And during that time, you served in the Special Forces and managed to get your degree in engineering?”

“I did.”

“Would you say that you had upward potential in income and rank?”

“I would. I’ve already had four job offers for more than six figures a year.”

“And yet you gave that all up for an income far less than that. Why?” Simon prompted.

“Because my father asked for my help.”

“And for the record, could you tell the court which medals you earned during your service?”

Cam tensed and glanced at Xander. “I have a few.”

“Let me be specific. Is it correct that you not only have a Purple Heart but a Bronze Star for heroic actions in combat that not only saved lives but earned you a bullet in the upper arm?”

My jaw dropped an inch. His upper arm? Both were covered in tattoos. He’d been wounded? Awarded one of the army’s highest honors?

“My record will confirm that,” Cam said slowly, looking away.

“But you’ve never told anyone?” Simon asked.

“I got a scratch because I did the right thing in a firefight. That’s not something that should be bragged about. It should simply be assumed that anyone would do the right thing in that situation, not rewarded.”

“I understand. Last question. When were you given this citation?”

Cam’s eyes unfocused. “Two years and three months ago.”

“Sounds like that’s a much better example of your character than an accident from a decade ago.” Simon shrugged.

“Objection!” Milton shouted.

“Withdrawn.”

Cam stepped down, his eyes searching mine as he took his seat. There were apologies written in his pressed lips, and I smiled softly at him, forgiving that which needed no explanation.

“How did he do?” I asked Dad when Cam sat down.

“Strong finish,” he whispered, “but the fire? That made the whole thing a draw.”

I just wasn’t sure a draw was enough to beat Xander. It was hard to compete with flawless.