by Lori Wilde
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.”
Chapter 25
Bailing out: Getting off the bull the best way you can, generally by throwing your weight against the animal.
Shattered to the bone over losing custody of Julie, Tara did what she always did in the face of adversity. Shouldered her burden, sucked up her pain, and trudged on. She could not allow the grief to destroy her.
Ms. Bean, who had been involved in the custody hearing and was the one who had green-lighted Rhona, followed her inside the house she shared with Rhett, Rhona and Claudio and their lawyer right behind her. They’d come for Julie.
She still couldn’t believe how fast it had happened, and wondered if Claudio had greased some palms to speed up the process.
Rhett was in the wind. She had no idea where he’d gone or when he’d be back. She understood the handoff was too painful for him, but when he didn’t respond to her texts or voice mail messages, she started to worry. She didn’t think he was the kind of person who would take his own life, but when someone was stressed to the breaking point, it was hard to predict what they might do. Emotionally, she was none too steady herself.
“This way,” Tara said, starching her spine with resolve. The court had made its decision. She had no choice but to accept it.
Tara pushed across the threshold into the darkened nursery. Ms. Bean, Rhona, and Claudio crowded in behind her.
She tiptoed to the bed where Julie was sound asleep, the little horse mobile that Rhett had bought for her swaying in the gust of the air conditioning kicking on.
Tara’s mother waited off to one side, looking distraught. Her father stood behind her, his hands on Bridgette’s shoulders. They gave Tara a tight look of support that was not quite a smile. They were here for her, no matter what.
“She’s so beautiful,” Rhona exclaimed, clutching her hands to her chest and leaning over the crib.
“Just like her mother,” Claudio said in a heavy Portuguese accent.
“I think she looks like Rhett,” Tara said. “She’s got his dimples and his dark eyes and detached earlobes and the arch of his eyebrows.”
“She doesn’t look a thing like him.” Claudio snorted.
Ms. Bean cocked her head, and studied the baby. “She does look a little like her father.”
Claudio glowered.
Rhona bent to scoop the baby into her arms. Julie stirred, whimpered.
“I have a medical binder for you. I know that Judge Brando has made you aware of Julie’s health issues, but I want to make sure you fully understand.” Tara opened the top drawer of the dresser, took out a three-inch-thick binder. “It’s important to use the formula recommended by her pediatrician. It costs more than other formulas but it’s essential for a preemie like Julie if you want her to thrive.”
Julie’s whimpers grew louder and she wriggled in Rhona’s arms.
Rhona clutched the baby tighter.
It was all Tara could do not to take the child from her to comfort her. Rhona looked utterly freaked out and unprepared. Pity tugged at Tara’s heartstrings, and she softened her tone. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Thank you.” Rhona looked eternally grateful.
Tara flipped the binder to the next tab. “Here’s bathing and grooming tips. Here’s a list of her medication. Doctor appointments. Physical therapy exercises. Here’s a list of supplies you’ll need. Diapers and wipes, bottles, clothing, swaddle blankets, thermometer—”
“Can you let us borrow some of this?” Claudio interrupted, sweeping a hand at the well-stocked room. “To get started? I pay you.”
“Yeah,” Rhona said. “It’s not as if you’ll need it any longer.”
Tara clamped her mouth shut, resisted saying, Why did you abandon her? Rhona’s immaturity was showing. She was young and acting on emotions, not reality. Tara forgave her eve
rything.
“We’ll grab a few things now and I will accompany you to your house. Help you get settled in.” She made the offer for Julie’s sake. “I’ll get Rhett to bag up some things and bring them to you when he comes to pick me up. How does that sound?”
“Oh yes, please,” Claudio said at the same time Rhona said, “We don’t need you.”
Claudio stared pointedly at Rhona. Julie was still wailing. Tara interlaced her fingers to keep herself from taking the baby away from her biological mother.
Ms. Bean cleared her throat.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Tara had forgotten that the CPS worker was in the room.
“Tara has made you a generous offer,” Ms. Bean said. “She’s an accomplished NICU nurse. It would behoove you to take her up on it.”
“It will be okay,” Claudio said to Rhona. “She just wants to help.”
“We can pack up the stuff,” Tara’s mother offered. “And follow you over to Rhona’s house and bring you back.”
“That’s sweet of you to offer, Mom.” Tara gave her mother a cottony smile. She was doing her best not to break down. “But Rhett needs to be the one to pack up her things. He needs the closure.”
“Yes,” Rhona said. “Closure. He needs to get used to it because we’re getting permanent custody.”
Claudio moved behind Rhona, put his hands on either side of her waist, backing her up. They were a couple. Husband and wife. A unit. A team.
“Where is Rhett?” Rhona asked.
“He’ll be along soon,” Tara said. Praying it was true, fearing it was not. Her heart was utterly shattered. Where was Rhett when she needed him most?
After he left the courthouse, Rhett caught a ride back to the Silver Feather with Archer and Casey. The battery on his cell had played out, and in his rush to get to court this morning, he’d forgotten his charger. He knew Tara had to be texting him. He would contact her as soon as he had a chance.
Right now, his goal was to get home and prepare himself for relinquishing his daughter to Rhona and Claudio.
Archer dropped Casey off at their house and then drove Rhett to his place.
Rhett’s King Ranch was in the driveway, along with Ms. Bean’s little Kia, Bridgette and Armand’s white Camry, and Claudio’s black Escalade.
His stomach was a rock.
“Want me to come in with you?” Archer offered.
Rhett shook his head. “This is my bull. I’m the only one that can ride it.”
Archer nodded and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Let me know if you want to grab a beer or something later.”
“Thanks,” Rhett said, but the last thing he wanted after this was over would be company. Tara was the only person who could empathize with him right now. The only person he wanted to be with.
As Archer drove away, Tara, Ms. Bean, Claudio, and Rhona carrying Julie stepped out onto the front porch, followed shortly by Bridgette and Armand. Claudio carried a bag of diapers. Tara had Julie’s infant seat in her hands.
His eyes met Tara’s and relief washed over her face. Guilt spurred him hard. He’d left Tara alone to deal with Claudio and Rhona. He hustled up the front steps. Stopped in front of Tara.
“Hello,” she said, her voice giving away nothing. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“What’s going on?”
“Rhona and Claudio weren’t prepared to take her home today. They need supplies.”
“So you’re giving them ours?”
Her eyes were gentle, and he could see unshed tears glistening there. “I’m giving them to Julie.”
Feeling chastised and deserving it, he plowed a hand through his hair. “What can I do to help?”
Tara rewarded him with a tender smile. “If you could gather some of Julie’s things and bring them over to this address.” She passed him a piece of paper with Claudio and Rhona’s address on it.
“We just bought the house,” Rhona said.
He barely gave her a glance. The location was in the most expensive part of Cupid. Rhett winced. From the trees, a mockingbird called, singing a ripping medley of happiness right there at the most sorrowful point of Rhett’s life.
“I can do that.”
“Great. I’m riding with Claudio and Rhona to help them get settled in with the little one. Pick me up there in an hour or so?”
“I’ll be there.” He wished he could get Tara aside and see how she was doing, but she was already heading down the driveway to Claudio’s Escalade, everyone following after her.
He stood on the front porch watching them go, feeling as if he was on an ice floe in the Arctic and everything that mattered to him was floating away in the cold.
After they disappeared over the cattle guard in a cloud of dust, Rhett went into the silent house. The only sound was the steady hum of the air conditioner. He went into the garage where he stored extra cardboard boxes, selected the biggest one he could find, and went into the nursery.
He grabbed whatever was immediately at hand. Baby blankets. Onesies. Baby lotion. The Strawberry Shortcake pacifier that Tara had toyed with the day they decided to get married. It was Julie’s favorite pacifier and the first thing he’d ever bought for her.
Rhett dropped the box, crossed the room to where his baby daughter had slept for the past two months, dropped to his knees in front of the dresser, and started opening drawers. His gaze fell on a box of animal crackers he’d stuck in the drawer, waiting for Julie to be old enough for them.
His daughter had never had a chance to eat animal crackers with him.
He took the cookies out and dropped the box. His hand was trembling so hard that the cuff of his shirt caught on the drawer knob. He yanked to dislodge himself but knocked over the dresser. He jumped out of the way before the furniture hit him. The pacifier flew into the air and the dresser fell on top of the cookies.
Rhett righted the dresser.
Underneath the dresser, the box was flattened. Crushed.
Just like his hopes and dreams.
He snagged the crumpled box from the floor, the cardboard corner poking him in the center of his palm, and he straightened and pried the mauled flap open. The cookies were snapped into dozens of broken pieces.
He slumped against the wall, slid all the way down until his butt touched the floor. Elbows dangling between his knees. The carpet he’d had installed just for Julie was puffy-cloud soft beneath his go-to-court trousers. He swiped a hand across his face, smelled vanilla from the cookies.
I gotta get up, he thought, and sluggishly, with great effort, pressed his palm against the floor and levered himself up. He slipped the string of the damaged box around his wrist, wearing it like a purse just the way Tara had.
The side of the box hit against his wrist and a piece of cookie fell out. It was a giraffe’s head, smiling up at him with silent, cookie eyes.
He picked up the bodiless giraffe, rested it in his palm, remembering that long-ago Alzate sisters’ tea party he’d crashed. He scooped up the Strawberry Shortcake pacifier too. Thought about the times he’d put it in his daughter’s mouth to soothe her fussiness. It hadn’t been nearly enough time with her. Not by a long shot.
Rhett brought the pacifier to his nose. It smelled like milk and Julie’s sweet baby breath.
Closing his eyes, he waited for the pain to pass. The smashed cookie box dangling from his wrist. A giraffe’s cookie head in one hand, Julie’s pacifier in the other.
He ate the cookie. Jammed Julie’s pacifier into his mouth and went back to packing.
Chapter 26
Fades: A bull that fades during a ride moves backward while simultaneously spinning or bucking in one or more directions.
They didn’t speak on the drive home from Claudio and Rhona’s place. No words were adequate to capture what they were feeling.
Rhett reached across the seat for her hand, but she didn’t immediately put hers in his. “Tea? You okay?”
Her back was razor-straight. Her gaze f
ocused out the window. “No,” she whispered, her hand on her lower abdomen.
“You’re thinking about the other baby you lost,” he whispered, reading her body language.
“Losing babies seems to be my fate.”
“It’s not over until it’s over,” he said. “The permanency hearing is two and a half months away. A lot can happen between now and then.”
“Unless Rhona does something really stupid, I don’t see how.”
“Hey, hey,” he said, taking her hand from her lap. “No more doom and gloom. We’ll get through this. I promise. We can still see Julie.”
She gave him a smile as weak as skim milk.
When they got home, Tara told him she needed some time alone. Dusk was gathering, so he went out to feed the livestock. Tara wandered into the house without a word. He was worried about her but did not know how to comfort her.
It was almost dark when he went inside, full of nervous energy and mounting dread. The house was silent, and when he stepped inside he could feel the emptiness.
“Tara,” he called, hanging his Stetson on the hat rack in the mudroom.
No answer.
He went into the living room, turning on lights. No Tara.
She wasn’t in the kitchen. Nor their bedroom.
He found her in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair. Her knees drawn up to her chest, one of Julie’s baby blankets held up to her nose, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Tara,” he whispered, feeling like a right solid jackass for leaving her alone. He wished he could kick his own ass. “Are you all right?”
She looked up at him, rubbed her eyes with both fists, blotting away the tears. “Are you?”
“No.” He squatted down in front of her, put his palms on her knees. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Look at me.”
She met his eyes. Her bottom lip was trembling.
“I love you, Tara.”
“I love you too, Rhett, but it hurts too bad without her.”
He took her hands in his, squeezed them. “I know.”