Law of Attraction (Tangled in Texas)

by Alison Bliss

  Damn it.

  I sighed and tossed the envelope down on the table before following him out the door. I found him sitting on the front porch stairs staring off into the darkness. Feeling like an idiot, I folded my legs under me and sat down next to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything and jumped all over you in there.”

  He waved it off. “It’s fine. I probably should’ve handled that a little differently, anyway.” His eyes met mine. “I get that you didn’t understand what I was trying to do, but I was only trying to help.”

  “I realize that now. But I…well, I can’t take money from you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my debts aren’t yours.”

  “No, but ignoring them won’t make them disappear, either. If this money would reduce your expenses and give you a little financial relief, then you should take it.”

  I shook my head adamantly. “No. I already rely too heavily on you for your help with the bed and breakfast. I can list a myriad of ways you have made things better around here and my life easier. But giving me money just can’t be one of them.”

  “The repairs are nothing. That’s just me perfecting my craft.”

  “Hardly. The maintenance expenses were eating me up before you came along. Now that you’re doing all the work, I haven’t had to hire out and have freed myself up for taking on more extra shifts at the diner. That’s been a huge help in keeping up with my ever-growing pile of bills.”

  He leaned back against the railing. “You need to slow down. I’m all for having an ambitious streak, but you’re taking on way too much. Work smarter, not harder.”

  “I’m just trying to keep my eye on the prize.”

  “Which is?”

  “To provide for my son, of course. I want him to have everything.”

  One eyebrow rose. “What’s wrong with giving him a mom that is healthy, happy, and not killing herself to give him the rest?”

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  “Then maybe instead of focusing on what you lack, just be grateful for all you do have.” He gazed out over the land. “Trust me, you’re much richer than you think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look around you. You’ve dedicated yourself to making a go of this place, and you’re doing it all by yourself. You should be proud of that.”

  “Oh, I am. You probably don’t know this about me, but when I was younger, I used to place a lot of value on being envied and admired. Presentation and appearance were everything to me back then. I was head cheerleader and Liberty County 4-H Queen, all because I thought that would make the other girls respect me more. And they did…until I had a baby. Then everything changed.”

  “How so?”

  “People talked about me behind my back a lot. When you do something that the general population disapproves of, you really find out who your true friends are, and it makes you stronger. Now I approach life differently. I’ve come to realize that what’s important has way more to do with how I measure myself as a person. It’s all about my self-worth and self-respect as a hardworking mother, a first-time homebuyer, and a successful business owner.”

  “All of which you have down pat. It’s like you were meant to do this.”

  “Thanks,” I told him, pride swelling inside my chest. “What about you? Do you have some big dream?”

  “I don’t know. This may sound strange, but I used to think I would settle down somewhere in the South and start up an olive farm.”

  “An olive farm? Really?”

  “Yeah. The weather is perfect here for them, and it only takes olive trees five years to mature. I would harvest them myself, use a mill to press the olives and extract the oil, and then sell a high quality extra virgin olive oil that has been locally grown and produced.” Then he shook his head. “It’s stupid, I know.”

  “I don’t think it’s stupid at all. I just didn’t picture you as the farming type.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I guess it just seems too…stationary. Once you plant those trees, you can’t move on to another location.”

  He shrugged. “I know. I think that may be what appeals to me most about it. I’ve traveled enough to know that it gets old fast. Also, I like working outdoors and using my hands, so an olive farm seemed to make sense to me. But right now I move around too much for that. Maybe it won’t be for forever. Who knows?”

  “Well, you should trust your instincts, then, and go for it.”

  Seth cast an all-knowing, golden-eyed stare my way. “You should, too. Take the money. I don’t need it, and I know you could put it to good use.”

  “But you don’t even have a paying job. I can’t take the only money you have.”

  He chuckled. “Who the hell ever said that was all I had?”

  “Well, no one. I guess I just assumed that most drifters would be moving from town to town looking for work because they needed the money.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, Bobbie, but the only reason I work is because I get bored easily. There’s enough money in my bank account that I could retire today and still live comfortably for the rest of my life.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you kidding?”

  “Do I look like I am?”

  Nope. Not in the least. “That’s crazy. Where on Earth would you get that kind of money?” I knew damn well that Junior hadn’t come from a rich family so that couldn’t have been the case for his nephew either.

  He shrugged. “Let’s just say the company I worked for paid me very well. Not everyone wants to work in the Amazon jungle. It can be…uh, dangerous.”

  Oh yeah. Well, that made perfect sense. “You mean because of all the diseases, wildlife, and hostile native tribes you might come in contact with?”

  Seth nodded. “Uh, yeah. Among other things.”

  “Other things?” I asked, cocking my head inquisitively. “Did I leave something out? What else could be that dangerous?”

  Seth grinned as his eyes flashed to mine. Although he didn’t speak, I had the strangest feeling come over me. As if, without a doubt in my mind, I already knew what the most dangerous thing in the jungle could be.

  Him.

  …

  Two days later, I walked into the Drew & Weller Family Law Office ten minutes before my scheduled appointment time. A receptionist behind the long granite desk greeted me politely and asked if she could help me.

  “Hi, I’m Bobbie Weston. I have an appointment with Angie Weller at one o’clock.”

  The receptionist smiled. “She just got back from lunch and told me to send you in as soon as you arrived.” She pointed to the hallway nearby. “Down that way, second door on your right.”

  “Great, thanks.” I followed the hallway until I found the correct room and then knocked lightly on the open door.

  A slim brunette who appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties was sitting in a plush-looking leather chair and motioned for me to come inside. “Hi, you must be Ms. Weston,” she said, standing and offering her hand.

  I shook hands with her and smiled. “Yes, but please call me Bobbie.”

  She smiled. “Okay, but only if you call me Angie.” She motioned to the two empty vinyl chairs parked in front of her large mahogany desk. “Have a seat.”

  I sat in the one directly across from her. “You have a lovely office,” I told her, admiring the abstract art hanging on the beige walls.

  “Thank you. We just renovated and expanded it last year so most of this is fairly new.”

  Good. That probably meant she made a decent income from a steady amount of clients, which hopefully translated to her being a good lawyer and knowing what the hell she was doing. That was just the kind of attorney I needed to seek legal advice from, and instantly I was glad I chose her. “Money well spent,” I told her, though I was talking more about myself than her office.

  “Can I get you anything to drink? We have coffee, tea, and bottled water.”

  I shook my head. “No
, thank you. I’m fine.”

  “All right.” Angie sat down and motioned to the open file on her desk. “Well, first off, let me just say that I’m sorry to hear that you’re going through a custody battle. They’re never fun for anyone and can really take a toll on both parents, as well as the children involved.”

  “Thanks. I hoped to avoid all of this by calling Jeremy and working something out just between the two of us, but he won’t answer his phone and hasn’t bothered to return any of my calls. So I figured I needed to get myself a lawyer.”

  “Do you mind if I ask how many times you’ve called him since you received the court order?”

  “Um, probably seven or eight times. I know that sounds like a lot, but half of those were right after I’d been served the court papers. I was really upset and left Jeremy a couple of messages that weren’t very nice.”

  She nodded. “I can imagine. But I’m going to advise you that it’s best if you don’t make any unnecessary contact with the biological father again. It could severely affect or even damage your case.”

  “How?”

  “Well, say Jeremy decided to tell the court that you were harassing him. Whether it’s true or not, he would then have the repeated phone calls and angry voicemails as evidence to back up his claim. That wouldn’t look good on you.”

  “Oh. I didn’t even think of that.”

  “Unfortunately, lots of people don’t when they’re angry. But I would recommend for you to keep your future correspondence with Jeremy focused primarily on your son and things relating to his visitation weekends.”

  “Well, hopefully there won’t be any visitation weekends. At least not this early on. I always hoped Jeremy would take on his role as a father to Austin, but I figured he would wade into it and get to know his son first. I didn’t expect the court to want me to throw my child in the deep end with Jeremy without a life preserver.”

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. After our lengthy conversation on the phone yesterday, I looked further into your case to see where we stood and what our options were.”

  “Did you figure out anything that might be helpful?”

  “Possibly, but it’s probably a long shot. We could petition the court for a modification of the visitation schedule so that the father is only allowed supervised visitation with your son until he gets to know him better. But there’s always a chance that the court will deny the motion, especially since your ex doesn’t have a criminal past or history of substance abuse. If the judge feels that Jeremy is capable of caring for a four-year-old, then he would just throw the motion out.”

  “Jeremy isn’t competent enough to watch my dog, much less my child. He hasn’t even seen Austin but a handful of times over the past four years. He barely knows him. I don’t want to send my son off with someone who is a virtual stranger.”

  She nodded. “I completely understand that, Bobbie. And we’re going to try our best to keep that from happening. But I have to be honest and tell you up front that I think the judge will probably deny the motion. Without any kind of evidence to show Jeremy as an unfit parent, then we don’t have much to go on.”

  I sighed in disappointment. “Well, what if I refuse to let Jeremy take Austin on Friday? What happens then?”

  “As your lawyer, I’m going to advise you not to do that. You have a legal obligation to follow all of the terms of the court order.”

  “But Jeremy doesn’t even pay child support like he’s supposed to. Isn’t he under legal obligation to do that?”

  “Yes, of course he is. But that’s an entirely separate issue from visitation. Even if Jeremy owes you back child support, you can’t refuse him visitation because of that. Otherwise you will be violating the court order and the judge could find you in contempt of court. Not only could that lead to jail time, but even worse, you could lose custody rights to your son.”

  My stomach twisted. “God. That isn’t the least bit fair.”

  “I agree. It’s not. But we want to make sure we pursue the proper legal course of action rather than having you take the law into your own hands. I know it’s hard, but be strong, and let’s regain control of the situation…legally.”

  “So in the meantime, I’m supposed to let Jeremy make my life miserable and hope that he actually cares for our child while Austin’s in his care?”

  “Unfortunately, our hands are tied at the moment. Like I said, I can file the motion I mentioned earlier and we can hope for the best, but I won’t lie to you. If this motion isn’t approved, then I don’t see any way of you getting out of having to hand Austin over to his biological father on Friday. As his parent, he has a legal right to see his son.”

  Irritation flowed through my veins as frustration gnawed at my insides. “And then what? In the meantime, my son and I just have to live with the consequences?”

  Her head lowered. “I’m sorry. I know how it is to feel like you have no legal recourse. I’ve been through this myself years ago with my first husband and our two children. But there are some other things we can do.”

  Hope filled me, and I sat a little straighter. “Like what?”

  “Well,” she said, linking her fingers together. “We can utilize the court system and report any violations on Jeremy’s part directly to the judge.”

  “What kind of violations?”

  “Things such as Jeremy entering your home without permission, keeping the child longer than the court orders, failing to pick up Austin at the right time, or even so much as Jeremy harassing you. These are all violations of the visitation orders, and we can file a motion for contempt of court against him if any of these occur. So be sure to document everything. Even police reports can be used in the court proceedings.”

  Police reports? Jesus. I rubbed at my face with both hands. “So let me get this straight. The only way for me to protect my child is by letting him go with Jeremy for the weekend and hope that the idiot screws up.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Look, I know you’re concerned for your child’s welfare, but keep in mind that Jeremy is trying to make himself look good to the family court system. There’s probably not much comfort in this, but he’s most likely not going to do anything that would hinder his rights as a father. Not if he truly wants to gain custody of Austin.”

  “So I’m just supposed to sit back and hope that my son isn’t neglected or mistreated by a man he barely knows, one who knows absolutely nothing about raising a child?”

  “If Jeremy does anything like that, we can report the misconduct to the judge. But like I said, he’s trying to prove himself as a fit parent. I’m sure nothing will happen.”

  Yeah right. Nothing a few years of therapy won’t cure.

  Chapter Eight

  By the time Friday rolled around, my nerves were frayed and tied up in knots. The judge denied the motion to revise the visitation schedule, which meant that Jeremy would get Austin for the entire weekend, whether I liked it or not. I’d been dreading this day so much that I’d spent most of it watching the clock, hoping like hell that would only slow down the inevitable.

  Jeremy didn’t get off work from his road construction job until six o’clock, but afterward, he was supposed to be picking Austin up and keeping him until Sunday. It was the first time I hoped he would flake out like he had always done in the past. But something inside me told me that, this time, he wouldn’t. Not after all the trouble he’d gone through to file the injunction against me.

  Austin had stayed the night with other people before. His grandma. Jake and Emily. And even Cowboy and Anna. So I wasn’t worried about him being away from me so much as I was worried about who was caring for him. The others I knew would take care of him. With Jeremy, I had my doubts.

  My son must’ve sensed my turmoil and the overwhelming feeling of doom that I was bearing all day because he’d been extra whiney ever since I told him this morning that he’d be staying a few nights with Jeremy. Just being asked to put on his shoes had reduced Austin to tears.
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  He was upset, and I couldn’t blame him one bit. He usually loved staying the night with other people, but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend the night with someone he didn’t know very well. There was just a certain level of comfort that kids should be allowed to reach before taking a leap like that.

  Unfortunately, according to my lawyer, I didn’t have a choice but to let Jeremy take him. Well, unless I was willing to pack our bags and go on the run. It wasn’t like I hadn’t considered the idea. Trust me, I had. Multiple times. But that desperate move would’ve taken both of us away from everyone and everything that we loved and held dearly. Not to mention that we would’ve been looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. That wasn’t any way for a child to grow up.

  Besides, it wasn’t like I thought Jeremy would physically hurt Austin. At least not on purpose. More or less, I was concerned that my son wouldn’t be looked after properly or flat-out neglected. The ignorant man came off like he just didn’t give a damn one way or another. But there was nothing else for me to do but put up with this arrangement until he either screwed up royally or got bored with the whole situation.

  When I heard a truck pull up in front of the house, I cringed but tried to steady my voice. “Austin, go get your backpack off your bed. It’s got your overnight clothes and some toys in it. Jeremy’s here to pick you up.”

  Austin sat next to Seth at the dining room table, looking at his matchbox cars. “Aw, Momma. I don’t want to go.”

  I knelt down beside him. “I’m sorry, baby. You have to. But Jeremy told me that he’s going to take you to get an ice cream cone. I told him how much you loved it.”

  “Ice cream?” he asked, his interest piqued.

  “Yep. And then tonight, when I call you to say good night, you can tell me all about how much fun you had.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but he said, “Okay, Momma.”

  I smiled and kissed his cheek. “Now go get your bag.”