Home on the Ranch: Colorado Cowboy SEAL

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Why?” She lurched forward. “Please tell me you’re not going back to Dandelion Gulch.”

  “I’m not. But I am getting a room at that little inn down the road. If you need me, I’ll only be a few miles away. But until Lark’s home, whether you like it or not, whether it’s logical or not, we both need to play by Charlotte and William’s rules.”

  Chapter 16

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”

  The jury foreman—an older gentleman with wavy gray hair, stood. “We have, Your Honor.” He handed a folded slip of paper to a bailiff who in turn handed it to the stone-faced judge.

  “Foreman Tubbs, when you’re ready, please deliver your findings.”

  “We, the jury, find Robin Pierpont guilty of being a bad mom in the first degree. It is our recommendation that she never again be granted custody or visitation with her daughter.”

  Laredo woke with a start.

  For a terrifying few seconds, he couldn’t see and didn’t know where he was. Then it all came rushing back. The car rental. The room at the inn. Robin’s latest tears.

  What was he doing here?

  Not just in this room, but this town?

  How had he transitioned from knowing a woman for a few days to dreaming about her? To following her hundreds of miles from his home?

  He needed to pee but dreaded the perilous trek to the bathroom. Why hadn’t he left on a light? He knew better than to fall asleep without giving himself a lifeline should he wake before dawn. But exhaustion had claimed him before dark. And now, he needed to suck it up—his fear, his doubts, his terror that after temporarily being apart, Robin might find herself permanently better off without him.

  Which would be true.

  He had to let her go. But how?

  And if he did manage to walk away, what then? How did he carry on with his life without her and Lark in it? His dependence on her made no sense, but when had being with any woman been a sound decision? Look what happened with Carrie. If he hung around with Robin, was he only asking for the same kind of pain?

  Pushing himself upright, he managed to get onto his feet, but then stumbled over his boots. Recovering from that near-fall, he shuffled forward, heart pounding, palms sweating, feeling his way through the darkness by using the bed. Once he’d rounded the corner to the bed’s foot, he continued feeling his way until hitting a wall. He remembered it served as a wing wall with the bathroom on the other side. Once he rounded that, he was home free when finding a switch.

  The sudden light made him wince.

  He faced himself in the mirror mounted above the sink. “You look like shit.”

  Beyond needing a haircut and shave, his eyes were red-rimmed, as if he’d just returned from an unusually long mission.

  It felt like a lifetime since he’d used his crossbow to shoot out Robin’s tires. How could it have been only days? Not even a full week.

  When he viewed their relationship in those terms, he understood her lawyer’s and grandparents’ apprehension toward his sudden appearance in Robin’s life.

  What he would never understand is why every time he so much as thought about her not being in his life all the air felt sucked from his lungs.

  * * *

  “First, this session is being recorded. Second, I applaud both parties for agreeing to reach a decision in this matter via mediation. It is my hope that I’ll reach a decision by the end of today as opposed to court rulings that can sometimes take months or even years. In the case of a minor child...”

  While the mediator rambled on, Robin wiped her sweating palms on her navy-colored skirt. She’d hoped to see Lark, but during the session she’d been left with the nanny the Pierponts had hired. Knowing her daughter had been tucked into a playroom somewhere in this vast building, yet not being able to hold her, was beyond devastating.

  “Mrs. Pierpont?” the mediator asked.

  “Yes?” Robin and Charlotte said at the same time.

  “For clarity, if neither of you object, I’ll use your first names. Are you both agreeable?” The woman smiled. She seemed pleasant enough. Auburn hair tucked into a bun. Black business suit softened by a frilly white blouse and pearls.

  Robin swallowed hard and then nodded.

  Charlotte nodded, as well.

  “Very well. Let us begin...”

  Two hours passed.

  After Robin’s initial charges were explained, the attorneys exchanged volleys concerning her involvement—or lack thereof—in her ex-husband’s death.

  Each time her son’s name was mentioned, Charlotte’s eyes welled.

  William’s expression turned harder.

  Marjorie slapped her palms against the table. “Could we please stay on topic? My client has been cleared of any wrongdoing regarding her late ex-husband’s death. The matter at hand is whether she is a fit mother. You contend the fact that she left town so abruptly speaks volumes about her lack of sensitivity. I have the evidence and witnesses to prove Robin quite literally believed she was running for her and her baby girl’s life.”

  “Nonsense!” William slammed the table with the heel of his hand.

  “Might I remind all of you,” the mediator said, “that the key to a successful mediation is to thoughtfully listen to all parties involved. Mr. Pierpont, you will have ample opportunity for rebuttal. For now, I’d appreciate you letting your daughter-in-law’s attorney have the floor.”

  William glowered.

  His two attorneys—the same two goons who had been with him the night he’d taken her baby from her—put their heads together, whispering behind their hands.

  Marjorie reached into her briefcase. “Please accept Exhibits A thru S—photos of the abuse my client suffered at the hands of the deceased.” She fanned the pictures across the table for all to see.

  Bruising so severe on her back that her flesh had turned purple. Distinct handprints. Her badly broken arm Chuck had blamed on her falling down stairs. On and on the parade of photos marched, telling a story Robin would never fully be able to put into words.

  Next came still more images of the most recent damage he’d done to her apartment.

  Charlotte gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

  “All of this is ridiculous,” William said. “How do we know she didn’t pull these off the internet? Furthermore, the ones showing her face could have been altered. Happens all the time. And if the alleged abuse was so bad, why wasn’t it addressed in divorce proceedings?”

  “Because I was scared!” Robin couldn’t hold in her frustration a moment longer. “Chuck said if I ever told anyone he’d kill me and Lark. I just wanted my freedom. For Lark and me to be safe. To get away from him, I would have agreed to anything, but I can’t be a victim anymore.”

  “So now you’ve decided to become a liar?” William leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

  The color drained from Charlotte’s face.

  Marjorie said, “I would like to call our first witness.”

  A former housekeeper who’d signed an NDA but was no longer bound to it after Chuck’s death admitted having seen and heard Mr. Pierpont repeatedly strike his wife with the seat back of a chair he’d broken.

  Her personal physician said, “I pleaded with Robin to leave him. He once beat her so severely during her pregnancy that I feared for the life of her baby. As I’m bound to do by law, I notified police, but Robin refused to file charges.”

  “Because my son didn’t do this!”

  “Mr. Pierpont.” The mediator stood. “One more outburst and I’ll have you removed from the proceedings.”

  Mrs. Jerome came next, followed by Robin’s grandparents. She should have told them—everything. But she’d been too afraid of the inevitable repercussions.

  “I would like to close my portion of these proceedings,” Marjorie said,
“by reminding all present that before the unfortunate death of the Pierponts’ only child, they felt my client was not only an adequate, but good mother. My client allowed liberal visitations and was present with her child for all major holidays. With this is mind, how is she now unfit to raise her infant daughter? My client has been denied her most basic rights of even breastfeeding her baby and for what? To soothe the grief-stricken egos of her former in-laws who—”

  “Will someone shut her up?” William’s face turned red enough that a vein popped out on his forehead.

  “Mr. Pierpont.” The mediator again stood. “Remember my former warning. I think this is a good place for us to pause. Let’s be back in session by 1:00 p.m.”

  During the lunch recess, Robin called Laredo, needing to hear his voice, but he didn’t pick up.

  “This is going great,” Marjorie said. In a park located a block from the mediation offices, they’d ordered sandwiches from a food truck and eaten—or, Robin had tried eating—at a picnic table in bright sun. “By tonight, Lark will be back with you—forever. Or at least until she meets her first boyfriend.” She winked.

  “Ha ha.” Robin tossed her crusts to a trio of bickering wrens.

  “Did we do okay?” Robin’s grandmother asked.

  “Perfect.” Marjorie started on her pickle. “Thank you both for coming. I feel good about firmly having established the fact that Robin felt her only option was to run.”

  They had another twenty minutes before they were due in the stuffy mediation room. To Robin, it felt like a cell.

  She tried calling Laredo again, but had no luck.

  All too soon, they’d reassembled at the table.

  Her grandparents had been allowed in the room only during their testimony. For the remainder of the afternoon, they’d waited on hall benches.

  The Pierponts’ lead attorney stood. “While we have no wish to downplay what Robin may or may not have endured, my clients’ deceased son’s former lifestyle is not at issue. What we’re here to decide is whether Robin is currently a fit mother. We contend that through events we may never fully understand, her judgment has been impaired to the point that she is no longer capable of raising her infant child.”

  Robin pressed her lips tight to keep from crying out.

  Tears threatened to spill.

  Her chest felt tight and she clamped her sweating palms to her thighs. Was there enough air in the room? There couldn’t be, since it had become a struggle to breathe.

  “Mere days after her ex-husband was savagely run down by a car, Robin fled the state with the Pierponts’ granddaughter. As if that wasn’t egregious enough, she promptly thereafter launched an illicit affair—moving in with a man she’d known not even a full twenty-four hours. My clients contend this shows a blatant disregard for her infant daughter. For all she knew, this man could have been a serial killer, yet—”

  “As opposed to a serial wife beater who repeatedly threatened to kill his wife and daughter if she uttered so much as a whispering of the hell she was living?” Marjorie pushed onto her feet. “Let the record show the ‘man’ with whom my client temporarily resided is a fine, upstanding member of his community. He’s a former Navy SEAL who served our country for thirteen years. He also saved my client’s child from the carjacking incident which resulted in her vehicle being disabled. That’s the reason why she was forced to stay in this ‘man’s’ small town. Despite your clients’ incalculable wealth, because my client is given a pittance for child support, she had no option other than to rely on the kindness of others who gave her food and shelter when her own family couldn’t—or, in the case of the Pierponts—wouldn’t.”

  “If the opposing council has finished her rant,” William’s lead attorney said in a bored tone, “I will begin introducing our own evidence. As soon as my clients discovered the whereabouts of their granddaughter and her mother, they engaged the assistance of a private investigator to ensure Robin didn’t again flee. While my client never intended to catch his daughter-in-law in a compromising position, he was shocked to discover her flagrant disregard for societal norms.”

  He flung a pile of incriminating photos to the table. Shots of her and Laredo hugging in their room at Sarah’s motel. Laredo shirtless while changing her tire. Her approaching Laredo’s truck. Standing on the running board. Diving in headfirst for a kiss. Even more shots of that sordid afternoon on the highway when she and Laredo had lost themselves to temporary insanity in the cab of his truck.

  How had the investigator even gotten the shots? With a telephoto lens?

  Closing her eyes, back on that lonely stretch of highway, she saw the passerby smiling in his red minivan. Had that been him? Knowing he’d scored a major coup?

  “In fact,” the Pierponts’ attorney rambled on, “Robin’s lack of propriety didn’t end in the town of Dandelion Gulch where she surrendered but has continued right here in our fine city.”

  He tossed down more photos of Laredo entering and exiting her apartment. Hugging her on her balcony. Kissing her on her living room sofa.

  Never had she felt more violated.

  How was this depth of privacy invasion even legal?

  “In layman’s terms,” the lawyer continued, “my clients would prefer their granddaughter not be raised by a common whor—”

  “That’s it.” Marjorie was again up from her seat. “Have we regressed a couple centuries in the time we’ve been in this room? Since when is it a crime for two consenting adults to take pleasure in each other’s company? I’d also like to point out that at the time my client engaged in these alleged adult activities, her daughter was not in her care.”

  “Thank goodness!” William was at it again. “Who knows what went on behind closed doors. She could have offered this stranger her body in exchange for—”

  “Mr. Pierpont,” the mediator said, “I’m at the end of my rope with you. Please leave the room.”

  “I will not.”

  She stood. “Yes. You will.” She pointed toward the door. “Out. If you don’t leave under your own free will, I will have building security escort you.”

  He shot a look to his lawyer, who nodded.

  With a put-upon huff, William exited.

  “Let the record show Mr. Pierpont is now gone. He will be readmitted when I render my decision.”

  William’s lead lawyer said, “I would now like to introduce our witness, Mr. Laredo Tucker.”

  What?

  The room spun.

  Was this why she hadn’t been able to reach him?

  He entered wearing an ill-fitting suit. Since she’d last seen him the previous day, he’d shaved and gotten a haircut.

  “For the record,” William’s lawyer said, “Mr. Tucker is only here because he was compelled under threat of contempt upon failure to appear.”

  “Very well.” The mediator made a note. “Mr. Tucker, please be seated and know everything you say will be recorded.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  William’s lawyer questioned Laredo ad nauseam regarding the logistics of how she’d come to stay with him and what the sleeping arrangements had been while she and Lark stayed at his home. “Do you make a habit of having relations with random women on the side of state highways?”

  “What does any of this have to do with my client’s ability to raise her child?” Marjorie threw her hands in the air, slapping them onto the table. “God help us all as a race if anyone who has a child must be forever done with all sexual relations.”

  “Ms. Bowen,” the mediator said in a low tone. “One more outburst and you will be seated in the hall alongside Mr. Pierpont.”

  “May I say something?” Charlotte raised her hand.

  “Of course.” The mediator raised her eyebrows as if surprised the woman had a voice.

  “Robin, I’m terribly sorry about all of this. You have to know it was
n’t my idea. When William suggested it, I thought he was mad. But then you were gone and not answering your cell. I was out of my mind with grief over losing Chuck, but even more so over what kind of man he’d become.” She bowed her head. “You’ll never know how deeply saddened it makes me to learn he turned out just like his father—only William eventually sought help to break his cycle of violence. He hasn’t so much as raised his voice at me in over twenty-five years. Not that I’m excusing Chuck’s actions, but he learned them through watching his father abuse me.”

  The mediator passed Charlotte a tissue box.

  “Robin,” Charlotte continued, “let’s put all of this ugliness behind us. You know we have a lovely guest cottage. We can raise Lark together. All you have to do is agree and I’ll gladly sign over full custody. Please, say you’ll bring Lark to live on our ranch.” She looked to Laredo. “You and your baby girl will want for nothing. She’ll grow up around horses with servants and nannies. First-class travel and private schools. Of course, you’ll also be well-provided for. A monthly stipend if you’d like—certainly enough that you’d feel comfortable staying home to be a full-time mom.”

  “Let me get this straight.” The mediator leaned forward. “Assuming your ex-daughter-in-law agrees to reside with you at your place of residence, you’ll drop this entire proceeding?”

  “Yes.” Charlotte vigorously nodded.

  Robin’s heart swelled with hope. Her initial thought was an emphatic yes. But then she looked to Laredo. And realized the full gravity of the awful position she suddenly faced.

  Charlotte was essentially asking her to choose.

  Laredo.

  Or her daughter.

  Chapter 17

  “I have a question.”

  All eyes turned to Laredo, whose heart hadn’t pounded so hard and fast since his last time in combat.

  “Yes, Mr. Tucker?” The mediator jotted a notation on her mountain of papers.

  “Would it be cool for me to officially remove myself from this equation?”