The Country Guesthouse

by Robyn Carr

  “This is the life, Owen,” Phil said.

  “I know it’s hard to believe but I actually do work. In fact, sometimes it feels like I work hard. But I admit, it’s fun.”

  “What’s the best part?” John asked.

  “There are so many best parts,” he said. “The freedom to wander. Discovery. Every time I go after some shot, some scene, some experience, something I never expected pops up and usually sets me off in a whole new direction. The reunion collection started when I saw a clip on the news of a wrongfully convicted prisoner released from prison, his entire family waiting outside for him. I can’t even remember the details but he served something like twenty years and then new DNA testing proved his innocence, and I wondered, was his family there because they never lost their belief in him or were there some in that big crowd who would ask forgiveness for not believing in him? I thought there are a million stories of reunions waiting for me. One sixty-second film clip and I put a lot of miles on. It grew like moss on the back of a tree. Soldiers reunited with their families, or how about their war dogs? But usually one photo per story. Never more than two. Photo stories.”

  “His writing is breathtaking,” Hannah said. That caused Owen to turn sharply toward her.

  “It is?” Owen asked.

  “Yes,” Hannah said. “So personal, so invested, so captivating. Heart-tearing drama and out-loud laughter. Since you claim to have hated every English class you ever had, you must be something of a natural.”

  He chuckled. “If you knew about the stomach cramps I get when I have to describe the moment, you wouldn’t say that—natural.”

  “I love those books,” Hannah said.

  He told them about some of his trips, about the trip to Vietnam coming up and about some of his collections in progress. And then he did something that stunned Hannah. He told them about Brayden and how his death changed Owen’s life and turned him into a completely different photographer.

  “I’m sorry if I threw a damper on your vacation but you’re here to check me out, to see if I’m a nutcase. You should know about me. I don’t tell people often because I can talk about it but it’s hard to look at the eyes of the people who hear about it. So, sorry for that. But it is a fact that after twelve years, after meeting Hannah and Noah, I feel myself changing again. This time it’s a nice change.”

  There were a lot of muttered condolences and reassurances. And Hannah looked at him and let him know with her smile that she was proud of him. He had done that for her and she knew it.

  * * *

  The night before everyone had to leave, Kate asked if she could tuck Noah in. She kissed him on the forehead and said, “I think you have yourself a good situation here, Mr. Noah. And a great pal with Romeo.”

  “I do,” he said. “I think we should stay.”

  “I don’t blame you, but you know that’s up to Hannah and Owen, right? Because Hannah has to choose the best place for work, school, medical support and all those things. But I did bring you something. My favorite picture.”

  Kate pulled it out and gave it to him. It was a picture of the four best friends in a nice five-by-seven frame. “This was taken when you were just a year old. We were on a holiday. A girls’ weekend, the four of us. You were still a baby and stayed overnight with Linda. There’s your beautiful mom. And Hannah.”

  He held it and just looked at it. She had noticed he had a picture of his mom on the bedside table, but this was the group. “Do you miss her sometimes?” he asked.

  “I miss her every day,” Kate said.

  “I miss her a lot,” he said.

  “That’s why I brought you the picture,” Kate said. “I don’t have any proof but I bet she’s near enough to hear your whispers. I bet she’s watching over you. Over all of us.”

  He looked at the picture a moment longer. Then he hugged it to his chest and lay down in the bed.

  “Sweet dreams, little man,” she said.

  She stood just outside the slightly open door for a long moment. Then she heard his sweet little boy voice whisper, “Night, Mommy. Night.”

  * * *

  Hannah’s cell phone chirped with an incoming call and it took her a moment to identify the sound—she no longer carried her phone around with her every minute of the day. It was in the bedroom on the bureau. Her best friends were with her so she wondered if it was another Wyatt misdial. Her friends had just started packing to head back home.

  The caller was Judd Tamaris, Erin’s former boss and lawyer. She closed the door to the master bedroom to listen and ask a few questions. Then she came back to the kitchen. Kate and Sharon were sitting at the table.

  “Where are the kids?” she asked.

  “Outside,” Kate said. “Getting in the way while Phil, John and Owen load the luggage in the van. Hey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Something has happened. That was Judd Tamaris, the lawyer who handled Erin’s will and the custody order. It seems Erin’s mother has contested the guardianship. They were unsuccessful in serving me a subpoena because I’m not at home so they contacted Erin’s attorney.”

  “Now what?” Kate asked.

  “He knows we’re in Colorado for the summer but I’d come back if he needs me to. He said he’s been in touch with my lawyer and they’re going to try to handle it without going to court. He wouldn’t give up my address without a court order and told me to stay put. He’ll call back tomorrow.”

  “On just what the hell grounds does she contest it?” Sharon asked.

  “She’s Noah’s only family,” Hannah said. “Oh God, she can’t take him away from me, can she?”

  “What does the lawyer say?”

  “He says there’s nothing irregular about Erin’s wishes. He’s well aware of the family situation. I don’t know where Erin’s half brother is but Erin said that he often went home to his mother and despite his issues, she’d take him in. This isn’t good.”

  “Hannah, there’s a trust, isn’t there?” Kate asked.

  She nodded. “Her insurance money, her vested retirement fund and eventually the proceeds from the sale of her house. It’s a tidy sum, but stretched out over his lifetime, college and other expenses, it’s not a fortune. Just the other day I was asking myself, what if he wants to go to medical school or law school? Of course I don’t care about any of that. I don’t plan to touch a cent until we know where we stand with school and our future. And I’m not the only person named in the will, as you know. Should anything happen to me, Sharon is next in line, then you. Probably that order because you already have five kids with your stepchildren.”

  “Since the Addisons had no relationship with Erin or Noah, I have to believe that’s some of the incentive,” Kate said. “Her stories of her home life were so sad. That brother of hers is the devil.”

  “What should I do?” Hannah asked.

  “Stay calm,” Kate said. “Get the facts. For God’s sake, don’t take any calls from the Addisons...”

  “I don’t know that they have my number. Erin’s been gone a few months. Have any of you heard from Victoria Addison?”

  “Not me,” Sharon said.

  “Not me,” Kate said. “It was Linda, the babysitter, who called Victoria. She showed no interest. It was Linda who told Victoria that Erin had chosen a guardian for Noah and Linda was keeping Noah until we three got to Madison.”

  “I didn’t think she cared,” Hannah said.

  “I smell a rat,” Kate said.

  Great works are performed not by

  strength but by perseverance.

  —Samuel Johnson

  8

  After a long talk with Owen and another conversation with Judd, Hannah made an appointment to see Cal Jones. She brought her leather folder with all the legal paperwork she’d acquired from Judd. Right after Erin was laid to rest, Judd had expedited the process of Hannah�
�s legal guardianship through family court in Madison so there would be no interruption in Noah’s care and he wouldn’t suffer through any kind of fostering environment.

  “Can you tell me how this guardianship came about?” Cal asked. “When did you and your friend decide you would be Noah’s legal guardian?”

  “We talked about it back in college when we were only girls. But then it was only girlfriend talk, fantasy talk—we promised that if we had children, we’d take care of each other’s in such an emergency. We vowed to be better mothers than our mothers were. It was amazing how alike our upbringings were—we both had mothers who clearly preferred their younger children and often treated us like we didn’t matter, didn’t belong. They didn’t beat us or anything, they were just emotionally unavailable to us. My half sisters got braces and tuition while I had to work my way through school. Erin’s mother was constantly standing up for her son, Erin’s half brother, even when he was at his worst. It’s no wonder that Erin decided to have a child alone. When she asked me in earnest, of course I didn’t hesitate. But who ever thinks something like this will come to pass? Erin was very specific in her will and even wrote a letter to the court to accompany her legal documents, explaining in detail why she wanted Noah taken care of by me and not her mother or half brother. I have copies of everything. I believe it’s there, in that folder,” she said, pointing to the letter. “She also specified alternative options if I predeceased her or if for some other reason I couldn’t take him, like if I was sick. We have two other best friends listed as cosponsors and alternate guardians. We’ve been very close for seventeen years.”

  “And her family was abusive?”

  She nodded. “Her father left them. Her mother remarried and had a son. She separated from that husband years and years ago, and he died before Erin and I met in college. Roger, her stepbrother, has been in trouble since he could walk. He used to beat up on Erin. He’s been in prison. Erin said her mother could have paid for a Harvard education on the amount of money she’s spent funding his drug treatment and bail. Victoria didn’t even come to Erin’s funeral. And Victoria is contesting my guardianship, though she has yet to ask about Noah.”

  “She’s not exactly contesting,” Cal said. “I guess it could be interpreted that way—she’s asserting grandparents’ rights. She would like custody. She’s asking for regular visitation at the least. She has an uphill battle on both—the court documents are filed in Madison, where Erin and Noah lived. Mrs. Addison filed her legal paperwork in Minneapolis and at the moment you and the child named are in Colorado. An interesting triad.”

  Hannah scooted forward in her chair. “Do I have to take him back to Minneapolis?”

  Cal shook his head. “You’re his legal guardian. You don’t need permission to travel or vacation with him.”

  “Can I get some kind of restraining order? At least preventing Roger from getting close?”

  Again, Cal shook his head. “He might have a history of abuse but he hasn’t abused or threatened you or Noah. You can’t just sign out a restraining order because you don’t like someone or because you’ve heard bad things about them. That being said, I plan to look into his history with the law and find out what I can. If he’s a dangerous felon, we need to know.”

  “Noah has cerebral palsy. He manages with leg braces and crutches. He’s in really good shape. He’s pretty strong and nimble. But, Cal, he can’t run away if someone is after him. He’s smart and happy and otherwise healthy but he needs health care supervision, physical therapy and a medical protocol. It’s amazing how well he’s doing after just losing his mother. He has his moments,” she added with a shrug. “His grief comes through, but Owen and Romeo help so much... The thought of him going to an abusive or uncaring home, even for a day or weekend, just fills me with panic.”

  “Given the facts and Erin’s meticulous planning, I think we’re going to avoid that. Let’s save the panic for later. It might not ever become an issue. Are you still planning to stay the whole summer?”

  “Of course. We’ll talk about the next steps in a couple of months,” she said.

  “Are you considering adoption?” Cal asked.

  “I am, but I don’t want to rush Noah. I want to be sure he understands he’s not giving up his mother. I also want him to know I want him forever. Before this complication, I thought we’d just take as much time as we needed to get to that conversation. Would it help if I—”

  “I doubt it would make much difference. But unless you are subpoenaed or there’s a warrant and extradition, which is almost impossible, stay here. If you need something from your house, do you have a friend who can get it for you?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t planning to go back before the end of summer.”

  “Good. If there’s a court willing to hear Mrs. Addison’s case for custody or visitation, we should get Mr. Tamaris to step in, given he not only represented Erin, he’d known her for a long time.”

  “And the court appointed an attorney ad litem to represent Noah,” she said. “The name is in the paperwork.”

  “Excellent. Give me a few minutes to copy all of this. I’ll have a conversation with Mr. Tamaris, tell him that I’ve agreed to represent you and I’ll let you know where we are in a few days. I’ll also do a background on both Roger and his mother. Meanwhile, it might be best if you told your Minneapolis contacts not to share your current whereabouts with the Addisons.”

  “Oh, believe me...”

  “Try not to worry,” Cal said. “If Mrs. Addison had been involved in Noah’s life from the start, if she’d filed for her rights before the court granted your guardianship, she might have a case here, but if you’ve told me everything, I can’t imagine what leverage she would have.”

  “Blood,” Hannah said. “She’s using the fact that she’s his only blood relative.”

  “Hannah, the family court judge generally likes to keep families together when possible, but also does not hesitate to remove children from abusive or negligent homes to put them in foster care. How is Noah’s grandmother going to care for him? Is she gainfully employed? Independently wealthy?”

  “There’s a trust,” she said.

  “Is it large?” Cal asked. “Substantial?”

  “Depends on how you look at it,” Hannah said. “When you consider what college might cost in a dozen years, when you consider any special needs he might have because of his condition, it’s probably not enough. If I didn’t have to think about Noah’s future, it would seem huge. Over a million dollars.”

  Cal sat back in his chair. “Hello.”

  “That’s what terrifies me,” she said. “That she could somehow get custody, get control of that trust, ignore Noah’s needs and—” She couldn’t finish. “Over the years she’s given her son a fortune to help him get out of trouble and I’m afraid that’s all she wants. Erin used to say, ‘If you met my mother, you’d like her. But she isn’t really who you think she is.’ Please help us, Cal. Noah shouldn’t have to shoulder any more disappointment. He’s been through so much.”

  “Don’t worry, Hannah,” he said. “We’ve got this.”

  * * *

  “Have you known Cal a long time?” Hannah asked Owen.

  “I met him shortly after he and Maggie married. We run into each other sometimes. He hangs out at Sully’s with his daughter and I’ve seen him on the trail a few times. And in the way of this neighborhood, I know about him. People talk about him, about being helped by him, about helping him work on that barn. And there’s this understanding among the locals that Sully, while maybe the friendliest guy around, has an uncanny instinct about people and Cal wouldn’t be married to Maggie if Sully had a bad feeling about him.”

  “He made me feel so much better,” Hannah said. “Do you think he’s actually a good lawyer?”

  “There’s been talk that he’s a semifamous defense attorney from Michigan,” Owen said. “May
be we should look into that.”

  “After Noah goes to bed,” she said. “How about some dueling laptops tonight?”

  He pulled her close. “You really know how to turn a guy on.”

  After Noah had gone to bed, Owen and Hannah sat on the couch, each holding a laptop, researching California Jones. Before long Hannah was snuggled up against Owen, staring at his screen, and he was reading aloud to her. There was a bio online that either Cal or his firm had produced that listed his degrees and licenses, then there were a couple of articles written about him that were more human interest pieces. And there was an obituary—it seemed while Cal lived and practiced law in Michigan, he had been married to a woman, also a lawyer, who developed scleroderma and died. That had been about six years ago. There were no details to describe how he managed to meet and marry Maggie Sullivan a couple of years after his first wife’s death.

  There were a few newspaper pieces about seemingly impossible cases he had tried and won in Michigan but nothing newsworthy in Colorado.

  “I think we should have Cal, Maggie and Elizabeth to dinner,” Hannah said. “I’d like to get to know them better and learn more about how Cal landed here.”

  “A couple of years ago when we first ran into each other at Sully’s, he mentioned that once when he was going through a lot of indecision in his life, he did a lot of hiking and things started to shake into place. I told him the same had happened with me. Like men will, we got away from the emotional aspect as fast as possible and started to discuss whether the altitude was healing.”