Carol Ritten Smith

by Stubborn Hearts

  “Yup. Got a problem with that?”

  He opened his mouth, about to say something, then clamped it shut, sidestepped around Tom and hurried down the street.

  Lanson shook Tom’s hand, then Bill’s. “That old coot! All the way here I wanted to choke him.”

  Tom chuckled. “You look like you could use something to settle your nerves.”

  Lanson straightened his collar and shook out his tight shoulders. “Not a chance. I want to stay this way. It’ll give me the instinct to kill when I get him in court. Speaking of which, I’d better stop by the courthouse and set up a time. Where are you staying?”

  “At the Imperial. It’s full, I’m afraid.”

  “I’ve got an aunt in town, lives in the brick house on Fifth Street. I can stay with her. As soon as I know anything, I’ll let you know.”

  Bill had been silent, but just before Lanson left, he asked him, “Do you know the judge?”

  “Not personally, but I’ve heard Judge Stone is a fair man. Don’t worry.”

  Less than ten minutes later, Lanson knocked quietly on their hotel door.

  “We can’t see him today,” he told Tom. “Apparently the judge has gone fishing and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tomorrow afternoon. That meant one more day worrying and another night of lying awake. Tom shook Lanson’s hand. “Thanks for letting us know.”

  • • •

  A loud rap on the hotel door brought Tom fully awake early the next morning. He dragged on his trousers and opened the door to find Parkerson there.

  “You’re up early,” Tom growled, his mood sour partly because he had slept poorly, but more so because seeing Mead first thing in the morning was an unpleasant sight.

  Mead pushed his way into the room and surveyed the sleeping quarters. “Well, ain’t this a cozy set-up.”

  “What do you want?” Tom stepped in front of him, blocking him from intruding further.

  “It’s time to go to court. I was just talking to the judge and he said — ”

  “Impossible!” Tom spat. “Judge Stone has gone fishing and won’t be back until this afternoon.”

  “Well, I guess fishing was no good, ’cause I run into him having breakfast at the Chinaman’s Café. I told him all about the trouble them damn kids have caused me and he said let’s get this settled once and for all. So you best hie yourselves on over to the courthouse right away.” Mead looked so smug, Tom had to refrain from plowing his fist into his face. It took a great deal of self-control to merely guide him out the door.

  Tom turned to face his worried family. “Okay, let’s get a move on. You boys put on what you wore to the wedding.” He took two strides to the armoire. “Come on, Beth. Get dressed.”

  “But the boys,” she started to protest the lack of impropriety.

  “You two dress facing the wall and we’ll do the same. There’s no time to waste.”

  Five minutes later, Tom was dressed and on the run to get Lanson from his aunt’s house.

  • • •

  The courthouse was small, its furnishings consisting of two rows of wooden benches, a large oak desk, and a bookcase sagging under the weight of volumes of thick books.

  Beth moved along the front seat, Davy following her, then Bill and Tom bringing up the rear. Except for the muted footsteps on the hardwood floor and their clothing brushing against the bench, the room was silent. Lanson took the center aisle seat. They waited. Their tension was so taut one could almost hear it zinging in the air.

  Parkerson entered the courtroom, sans lawyer, and sat on the other side of the courtroom. Beth glanced sideways at him, but the sight of him only added to her already queasy stomach. Just before they left the hotel room, she had a sip of her medicine, but obviously it hadn’t taken effect yet.

  Davy saw his uncle and quickly crawled onto Beth’s lap. She wrapped her arms around him. His trembling increased her anxiety.

  A door opened at the front left and Judge Stone entered. He looked nothing like Beth had imagined he might. Somehow she expected his appearance to reflect his name. Instead Judge Stone was a short, skinny man, in his fifties, with thin mousey-gray hair. He slouched as if his beard, badly in need of trimming, was too heavy for his scrawny frame to carry.

  She glanced up at Tom and the expression on his face told her he, too, had expected the judge to look different.

  Lanson stood respectfully, indicating to Tom and Beth and the boys to do likewise. Judge Stone eased himself into his cushioned leather seat, placed his palms on the desktop and looked about his courtroom as if confirming the surroundings had not changed since his last appearance.

  “Be seated,” Judge Stone ordered, then picked up the gavel and rapped it soundly, causing everyone in the courtroom to jump.

  Beth, so nervous her legs could barely support her, sank back into the seat. It seemed as if their entire future had come down to this one moment, down to the decision of this one man. She dared not allow herself to contemplate what would happen if he ruled against them for fear she would start crying. She promised herself she wouldn’t break down.

  “All right,” the judge stated, “let’s get this show on the road. Who wants to go first?”

  Lanson glanced sideways at Tom and raised an eyebrow, apparently taken aback by the lack of judicial protocol.

  Parkerson jumped to his feet. “I will, your Honor. As you already know, I am Mead Parkerson and those two boys over there,” he said, pointing, “they are my nephews, and my legal wards. I got custody of them when their parents, my brother and his wife, were killed in an unfortunate accident.” He pulled a grayish colored hankie from his suit jacket and dabbed his bloodshot eyes. “God rest their souls.”

  After an appropriate moment of appearing disconsolate, he sniffled and continued, this time pointing at Beth. “The boys’ sister stole them away from our home, and I’m here to take them back home so me and my good wife can give them a proper upbringing.”

  Lanson stood immediately. “Your Honor, I object. Mrs. Carver did not steal her brothers. She was merely — ”

  The gavel came down hard, interrupting Lanson’s objection. “Just you sit down. You’ll get your turn.”

  Lanson complied, and Tom gave him a worried look.

  Judge Stone turned to Mead. “You got anything else to say?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a piece of folded paper and slapped it against his palm. “This here paper proves that me and my wife are the guardians. It’s my brother’s Last Will and Testament.”

  “Do you know about any will?” Lanson whispered to Beth.

  She frowned and shook her head. She had always assumed Mead had custody because he was the closest living relative. Suddenly she felt physically ill and this time it had nothing to do with her pregnancy. Surely her father hadn’t planned for them to stay with Uncle Mead and Aunt Tilly. Didn’t he know what sort of man his brother was? She looked fearfully at Tom and he, too, looked concerned.

  The judge reached forward. “Bring me that paper.” He studied the documentation, seemingly unmoved.

  Lanson stood again. “Your Honor, we have no knowledge of such documentation.”

  “Well, it’s right as rain,” Parkerson declared with a confident smile.

  Lanson continued. “Judge Stone, I request Mrs. Carver be given the chance to verify the signature.”

  “I guess that’s fair enough. Come and get it.”

  Parkerson frowned, but did not protest.

  Beth set Davy from her lap and he crawled from the refuge of her arms into the waiting arms of Bill.

  Lanson handed her the paper. Her hands shook and the paper trembled like an autumn leaf in a breeze. Tom leaned across in front of the boys. His hand supported hers to hold it steady.

  “Check it carefully, Beth,” he whispered. “He might have forged it.”

  Beth read the will and then carefully studied the angular penmanship and the signature. It had been over four
years since she’d last seen her father’s writing, but the signature before her looked genuine.

  “Oh Tom.” She knew, by verifying the signature’s authenticity, she would lose custody of the boys. “What can we do?”

  He didn’t know. Oh, that he did. Tom stood. His knees knocked. “Your Honor, I’d like to say something.” His Adam’s apple seemed lodged in his throat. “Judge, the boys have everything they need in Whistle Creek … love, guidance, friends. If they went back to Duggan, they’d have none of that. I couldn’t love Davy more if he were my own son.”

  Memories of afternoons spent with Davy came flooding through. Davy, his little buddy. What would he do without him? Tom swallowed hard. “And Bill, well, I’ve grown to respect him. He’s got convictions and dreams. He may be only sixteen, but he’s a fine young man.”

  Bill blinked at the unexpected compliment. Tom stared straight at him and a bond was forged.

  “Sir,” Tom went on, “words on a piece of paper shouldn’t overrule what a person knows in his heart to be right. Please, don’t take — ” His throat constricted and he didn’t know if he could finish. He closed his eyes, concentrating on forcing out the words. “Please don’t take the boys from us.”

  Judge Stone stroked and pulled on his long beard in almost the same motion he might use when milking a goat. “That was one fine speech. Mighty fine indeed, and if this were an elocution contest, you’d get a red ribbon. But this is a custody hearing and not even a judge can dispute a will. I grant Mr. Parkerson custody of his two nephews.”

  “No!” A scream tore through the courtroom, and Beth realized it had come from her.

  Davy sobbed against Bill’s shoulder and, half crying himself, Bill consoled him, saying, “It’s all right, Davy. I’ll take care of you.”

  Tom felt like he’d been flattened by a forty-ton train. He sat speechless, stunned.

  Lanson hastily approached the desk. “Your Honor. Surely — ”

  “My decision holds. This case is closed. Court is dismissed.” One final hammer of the gavel and their future was sealed. Judge Stone exited through the side door.

  Mead, jubilant with the ruling, danced a little jig over to Beth and snatched the will from her hand. “Too bad,” he flaunted, “but the law is the law.”

  Tom jumped up and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. “Listen, you piece of pig manure, you’d better take good care of them. You harm one hair on those boys and I’ll hunt you down and kill you. So help me, I will.” Tom shoved him away, and Mead stumbled backwards.

  Parkerson straightened himself and his clothing. “We’ll all go back to Whistle Creek this afternoon, just like one big happy family. I’m giving you until tomorrow to get the boys’ things ready. I think that’s being fair, but I’ll be takin’ them home to Saskatchewan with me on tomorrow’s train.”

  • • •

  Beth remembered very little of the train ride home, except that she felt like crying the entire way and it was only by sheer will that she hadn’t. But Davy cried, inconsolably, and by the time the train pulled into Whistle Creek, he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

  Surprisingly, Parkerson remained at the opposite end of the train car and never once came near them. Beth decided it was because of Tom’s menacing glare thrown at him every time he even glanced their way.

  Mary and Earl were waiting at the station, Tom having telegraphed ahead with the dreadful news. From the train station they went directly to Betner’s where Mary had supper waiting. Beth could not recall if she ate or not, nor what was said over dinner, if indeed there was a conversation. Her only thoughts were of tomorrow and how at this very same time, Davy and Bill would be gone, and she’d feel as if half her life had been torn from her.

  Immediately following supper, Bill went to say goodbye to Annaleese. Tom and Beth departed soon after, taking a despondent Davy home to bed.

  He was put in the guest bedroom again, in the bed that would have been his if things had worked out the way they should have. To Beth he seemed so much smaller this time, fragile almost, shrunk down under the covers so only half of his head poked out.

  She sat on the edge, while Tom stood at the headboard, feeling about as useless as the bedpost. “It won’t be nearly as bad this time, Davy.” She fussed with his blankets to avoid looking him in the eye, certain she would burst into tears if she did. “Daisy will have had her calf by now. Remember how you got to bottlefeed the last one? The way he bunted at the bottle and just about knocked you on your behind?” Davy nodded. “Well, I bet you’ll get to feed this one, too. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

  Davy shrugged.

  “And the gophers will be out,” she continued. “You and Bill can snare them again, just like you used to do.” She chattered on, hoping to convince Davy living again at Duggan would be an adventure, yet all the while thinking this entire ordeal was a nightmare and how unfair it was that a few scribbles of a pen could bring about such grief.

  Tom stroked Davy’s brow gently. “And I’ll have a look around to see if I can find my old slingshot. Then you can bean them right between their beady eyes.” He gently drilled his finger into the bridge of Davy’s nose. “Right there,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “But I’d rather stay here,” Davy protested weakly.

  “I know, sweetheart.” Beth nearly choked with emotion and she looked up at Tom for support.

  “And we wish you could too,” he answered softly, “but for now you have to go.”

  There was an empty silence for a few moments and then Davy rolled onto his side, as if shutting them out. “I wanna go to sleep, now.”

  “Don’t you want to say your prayers before you go to sleep?” Beth asked.

  “Don’t feel like it.”

  “But you always — ”

  Tom gently squeezed her shoulder, stopping her from further exhortation. He nodded silently towards the door.

  She kissed Davy’s head lightly, and the realization she might not have the opportunity to kiss him goodnight again for quite some time caused her eyes to burn with tears, and her throat to clamp shut. She sat there for several heart-wrenching seconds, loathe to leave her little brother’s side. Finally, Tom grasped her arm and drew her away.

  Outside Davy’s room, he pulled her into his embrace, and they leaned on each other for support like two straw bundles in a stook.

  And finally, in the privacy of their bedroom, Beth sank onto the large bed and succumbed to her tears. She’d never known a physical pain quite as raw or as agonizing as this feeling of hopelessness and loss and worry.

  Tom rocked her back and forth, sharing her pain, and it was all he could do not to break down, too. But his love for her made him strong, stronger than he ever thought he’d need to be.

  Minutes later, when her tears began to subside, he shifted her in his arms so they sat face to face. Her nose was red, her lips splotchy, and her eyes puffy. She was the most pitiful sight he’d ever seen, yet he never loved anyone more. He wanted to hold her, protect her and love her forever.

  “All the way home I was thinking there has to be some way to make this better,” he said.

  “If only there was. I can’t believe my father would give Uncle Mead guardianship. He couldn’t have known what kind of man Mead had grown to be.” A fresh flood of tears threatened, and Beth blinked them back.

  “I’m going to get Lanson checking into the will. But in the meantime, I’ve got an idea. Since the judge won’t let us have the boys here in Whistle Creek, maybe we should move to Duggan.”

  Beth was speechless. A tear rested on her cheek and Tom rubbed it away lightly with his big flat thumb. “Move? Tom, you’ve worked so hard to make your business successful.”

  “I know, but this is more important.”

  “But you’ve lived here all your life. All your family is here.”

  Tom brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Not all. Part of my family will be in Duggan too.” He gazed at her with an intensi
ty that burned right through her and kindled a small flame of hope. “Think of the advantages. If the boys need us, we’d be right there, not two hundred miles away. And don’t you think Mead would go easier on the boys if he knew we were around?”

  It was true. As much as Mead liked to flaunt his authority, Beth knew he was a coward.

  Tom continued. “And you could see Davy every day on his way to school.”

  She brightened. “I could!” Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and began planting soft sweet kisses all over his face. “Thank you. I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

  “Beth, I love you. My life wouldn’t be worth a tinker’s damn if you were unhappy. So call me selfish, but I plan on spending the rest of my life making you happy.”

  “You are the most generous man I have ever known, and I love you dearly and I promise to spend the rest of my life making you equally happy.” With that end in mind, she kissed him fully on the lips.

  Tom had all good intentions of tucking her into bed and then sleeping downstairs. The day had been long and tiring and she needed to rest.

  But it seemed his new wife had a different intent. When he went to pull away from her, she held him tight. She kissed him again with a passion that surprised him.

  His arousal was rapid and full. “Dear Lord, Beth,” he said throatily, “what you do to me.” He leaned her back on the mattress, his body half covering her. His lips crushed against hers, nearly bruising them against her teeth. She opened her mouth, accepting his delving tongue as it raked from side to side. He groaned. “I can’t help myself. I love you so much.”

  Beth was too impatient for conversation. “Don’t talk, show me.”

  He drew her to stand before him. Their hands frantically removed their own garments. Their breathing became labored with expectation. Tom’s pants and underwear came down in a single push. He stood on one foot, dragged a pant leg off, then hopped wildly on the other foot to yank the other pant leg free.

  Beth dropped her skirts, pulled down her cotton drawers and crinolines, and left them in a frilly heap on the floor. She fought with the tight buttons of her bodice.