She had made it clear she didn’t want to take the risk of being involved with him and he needed to respect that, as difficult as he found it. “Thank you for coming,” he said, when the silence between them had stretched out far too long.
She shifted and looked down at her hands. “Don’t thank me yet, Brodie.”
“Why not?”
Before she could answer, the generalized buzz in the courtroom cut off again as Laura and William Beaumont entered the courtroom, along with their son and the team of attorneys Brodie had seen at every court appearance.
The Beaumonts looked like a unit, solid and unbreakable. Charlie, far from being happy to see Taryn, frowned fiercely in their direction.
Brodie did his best to analyze that reaction as the Beaumonts moved toward the front of the courtroom. Mrs. Beaumont stopped when she reached their aisle. She looked aristocratically bored by the whole proceeding, though Brodie thought he saw a shadow of nerves in her eyes.
“I wasn’t sure you would come,” she said. He thought for a moment she was talking to him, then realized her comments were directed toward Evie.
“I said I would,” Evie answered rather stiffly.
“Thank you,” Laura murmured, then moved up to sit beside her husband and son.
He frowned. “Why is she thanking you?” he asked. “Why are you here?”
She met his gaze, her fingers curled in her lap. “I’ve been asked to make a statement about Charlie.”
For a moment he could only stare, a mix of hurt and anger and a deep sense of betrayal settling in his gut. She wasn’t here to support him and Taryn. She was here to speak for Charlie freaking Beaumont. That warm calm that had washed over him at the sight of her was now lost in the sucking whirlpool of his anger. “And you agreed?”
She seemed to be steeling herself for his fury, as if she had fully expected it. Of course she must have. Yet she was going to do it anyway and that hurt more than anything else.
“Yes,” she said simply.
“You and your damn bleeding heart. It’s bad enough you’ve convinced me to let Taryn speak today. Now you’re going to get up there and talk about how he’s just some poor, misunderstood kid with a heart of gold who’s filled with remorse and has suffered enough. That little punk you think is some kind of damn angel took my daughter’s future.”
“Wrong. She still has a future,” Evie said quietly. “A very bright one, in part because that little punk helped her believe in it again.”
He wanted to yell and curse and generally vent this hot, jumbled mess of emotions in him, but before he could, the bailiff stepped to the front of the courtroom.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Kawa.”
Everyone in the courtroom except Taryn stood up and then Ivy Kawa walked in, slight of stature but tougher than any Wild West judge who had ever sat on that bench.
He knew her socially, of course. At heart, Hope’s Crossing was really a small town, despite the sometimes overwhelming tourist numbers. Theirs was only a casual relationship, though. If he remembered correctly, her husband golfed with William Beaumont. He doubted Judge Kawa would let that sway her opinion on Charlie’s sentencing either way.
The judge’s instructions to the courtroom were terse as she explained that the purpose of the hearing was to ascertain proper placement for Charlie after his guilty plea of the week before. “No dramatics and no hysterics. This is a legal proceeding.”
Taryn fidgeted a little in her wheelchair. “If you change your mind just say the word, honey,” he said in a low voice. “We don’t have to be here.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m just saying, if you do.” Though he didn’t look at her, he was aware of Evie seated beside him, tense and silent and the hot ache of betrayal in his gut.
* * *
SHE BADLY WANTED TO touch him—a hand on his arm or even a shoulder nudge. Anything.
He wouldn’t appreciate it, she knew. With the anger she could still feel radiating from him, she didn’t want to think how he might respond if she tried, so she kept her hands carefully folded on her lap while she listened to several business owners read their impact statements about the crime spree Charlie had been involved with the night before the accident.
Mike Payson from Mike’s Bikes talked about the loss of business he had sustained and the generalized feeling of invasion.
Claire spoke about the accident and the strain of her injuries and how Macy and Owen still tensed every time they had to drive up Silver Strike Canyon for any reason.
Through it all, Evie wondered how she could possibly withdraw her name from those speaking and sneak away. She was still trying to come up with a way when, after about forty minutes of testimony, the bailiff called out her name.
Nerves fluttered inside her as she rose to take her place behind the podium set up at the front of the courtroom. At least she wouldn’t have to sit in the witness box for this.
“Please state your full name and occupation for the record,” Judge Kawa instructed.
Evie drew a deep breath. “My name is Evaline Marie Blanchard. I am a…” She paused here for only an instant. “I am a licensed physical therapist,” she said firmly. “For the last month I have been working one-on-one setting up an intensive rehabilitation program for Taryn Thorne in her home.”
“And you have a statement on behalf of the defendant?” the judge asked.
“No,” she said and was vaguely aware of the low stir of surprise in the courtroom. “When I was asked to make a statement, I clearly indicated I was only willing to provide information about my dealings with the defendant over the last month and allow the court to interpret that information, not offer my opinion as to proper sentencing.”
“Proceed,” the judge said, a furrow of confusion between her eyebrows.
Evie clutched the paper with the few short paragraphs she had agonized over for the last two days. “Several weeks ago I encountered Charlie Beaumont on a hiking trail in the mountains. In the course of our conversation, he discovered I had been working with Taryn Thorne and he expressed concern for her condition. Believing Taryn might find interaction with young people motivational to her therapy—and knowing Charlie and Taryn were friends prior to the accident—I invited him to visit her. This was without the knowledge or approval of her father, let me add, and was a completely unilateral decision on my part. Taryn seemed to enjoy his visit and she responded better to her regular therapy than she had done previously. When Charlie asked if he could return another day, I agreed, though I had reservations as to whether it would be beneficial.”
She looked up and found Maura watching her with eyes that were solemn but dry. Brodie was looking somewhere over her shoulder, not at her, and her insides clenched with regret. Too late to get out of this now. She was stuck, like it or not.
She cleared her throat, anxious only to finish now. “Over the past three weeks, Charlie has become a regular visitor during Taryn’s therapy sessions. He visits as often as four times a week, for an hour at a time. To my great surprise, he has displayed remarkable calm and patience with her and Taryn has made great progress in that time. She can stand for longer periods of time, she is taking more steps on her own and her core strength has improved. Whether that is because of Charlie, I cannot and will not say. Thank you.”
Brief and to the point, without embellishment or elaboration. She had told Laura she would only relay the information about Charlie’s visits to Taryn, not color it with her opinion. She had to hope she had accomplished her goal. Whether the judge would give any weight to the information was now out of her hands.
She left the podium, more than a little tempted to push through the doors and keep walking out of the courtroom. That would be cowardly, though, and she couldn’t leave before she heard what Taryn wanted so strongly to say.
She would have vastly preferred finding another seat, but every spot in the courtroom seemed full except where she had been sitting before, next to Brodie.
; With no small degree of reluctance, she returned to her seat and felt the heat of his disapproval like a sunlamp beating down on her.
She wanted to tell him she was sorry but the impulse itself annoyed her. She hadn’t done anything so terribly egregious, only presented the basic facts about what had transpired the last three weeks in therapy. None of it was a lie. If he still couldn’t accept how much Charlie had helped with Taryn’s therapy, that was his problem, not hers.
After one of Charlie’s Sunday-school teachers gushed on and on about what a good boy he was and his high school soccer coach spoke about how hard he worked for the team, it was Taryn’s turn.
Beside Evie, Brodie seemed to brace himself. Despite everything, she again wanted badly to touch him, to offer some sort of physical encouragement, but she didn’t have the chance, even if she had been able to find the nerve. He rose and pushed his daughter’s wheelchair to the front of the courtroom, then set the brake so that Taryn could laboriously pull herself to her feet.
Judge Kawa watched this with confusion at first and then surprise. “Young lady, there is no need to stand. You may certainly remain seated.”
Taryn shook her head, gripping the edge of the podium. “No. I want to…stand,” she said.
“If you’re certain. Of course, you may be seated at any time.”
Taryn nodded, then angled around to look at Brodie, behind her. “Dad. Go sit down,” she said, to a nervous little titter from the courtroom.
Brodie looked as if he wanted to argue, wanted to stay there behind her through her entire statement, but after an awkward pause, he returned to sit tensely beside Evie.
“My name is Taryn Thorne.” She spoke clearly and concisely and Evie glowed with pride in her at how very far she had come from those early days when no one was sure she would even survive.
“I was hurt in the accident. I still can’t walk…very well and I talk a little f-funny. But I—I’m getting better. Charlie is my friend. He helps me with therapy, even when it’s boring.”
She was quiet for several beats, so long that Evie could feel the leashed tension in Brodie and knew he was about a heartbeat away from jumping out of his seat and returning to her side.
“Judge, I want to tell you,” Taryn finally continued, “Charlie shouldn’t go to jail. He shouldn’t. It’s wrong. None of it…was his f-fault.”
“Yes it is!” Charlie suddenly jerked to his feet. “Don’t listen to her.”
“Young man, this is a court of law. You can’t just shout things out. Please be seated,” the judge said sternly.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t remember!”
“Yes. I do. I…remember. All of it.” Taryn gripped the podium tightly. “We were so stupid. Just…messing around. It was never Charlie’s f-fault. It was all…my idea. To rob those stores, I mean. I was mad at my dad. He was going to make me quit…cheerleading because I broke curfew a lot and my grades were bad. I wanted to hurt him.”
Brodie’s jaw tightened and he drew in a ragged-sounding breath and Evie couldn’t simply sit beside him and do nothing. His hand was a tight fist on his thigh and she covered it with her own hand. After a startled moment, she could feel some of the tension seep away. He relaxed his fingers and turned his hand over to clasp hers, though he still didn’t look at her.
“It was me and Layla and Charlie and Jason and Aimee. Jason Hoyt and Aimee T-Taylor. Jason knew…how to shut off the store alarms and unlock the doors. He broke into his dad’s security company or something. I don’t know how. But it was…too easy. After we took stuff at my dad’s store, we decided to do others. Just for f-fun.”
Taryn looked guilty and small standing behind the podium. Her lip trembled as she spoke but she was still holding on tightly and remaining upright. “It wasn’t for the money. Not really. We…were stupid and…and bored, I guess. Jason and Aimee were high. I wasn’t. Neither were Layla or Charlie. At String F-Fever, we accidentally knocked a box of beads in the… dark and Jason thought it was so f-funny. He knocked over more and then we all…took turns dumping stuff out. We made…a big mess. I felt really bad afterward and sick to my stomach. I like Claire. But then I made it worse.”
She shifted her gaze to Charlie, and Evie saw something she had missed all this time. How could she not have seen it? Taryn’s feelings for the boy were obvious all over her face. Though she might say she and Charlie were only friends, Taryn’s emotions ran much more deeply than that.
“I grabbed…some scissors and cut up his sister’s wedding dress. It was dumb. I don’t know why I did it. But Charlie’s parents ignored him all the time. It hurt him. All they cared about was his sister’s stupid wedding. He was sick of it and I…wanted to help him.”
She was beginning to look shaky up there and Evie wasn’t sure Taryn would be able to stand much longer. She wanted to go and hold her up but didn’t think the judge would appreciate the interruption.
“The next night, Jason said he knew an empty cabin where we could hang out and watch a movie, with lots of…beer in the f-fridge. Charlie didn’t want to have any. He was driving.” A slow tear dripped down the side of her face, and beside Evie, Brodie made a low growling sound in his throat she doubted anyone else could hear. “We…we made him. We teased him until he had some beer with us.”
“Taryn, shut up.” Charlie jerked to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. “It doesn’t matter now. None of it matters.”
“Young man, if I have to ask you again, you will be removed from this courtroom. Do you understand?”
“She doesn’t need to do this. It was all my fault. I was drinking. I was driving too fast. It’s all my fault.”
“Mr. Beaumont. Sit down! You may continue with your statement, Ms. Thorne.”
Taryn swallowed and another tear followed the first. After a pregnant pause, Charlie sank down onto the bench and buried his face in his forearms.
“Can I…sit down now?” Taryn whispered.
“Of course,” the judge said. Before Brodie could jump up to do it, the bailiff pushed the wheelchair into the correct position for her to transfer into. When Taryn sat down again, the man pulled the microphone from the podium for her and she held it on her lap.
“So…Layla didn’t want to be there. At the cabin. She…wanted to go home. She told us it was w-wrong and we should go. Charlie said she was right. He said we needed to stop, that we were going to…get in real trouble. Jason told him not to be a…a pussy.”
She looked embarrassed at the word and Evie wanted desperately to rush up to the podium, gather the girl into her arms and tell her to stop. Beside her, Brodie was a thick column of tension, his hand gripping hers tightly.
“Ch-Charlie said he and Layla were leaving and if we wanted to walk home, we could. So we all got in his truck.” Her voice was shaking and she used her most unaffected hand to swipe at the tears now dripping down her cheeks.
“Enough,” Brodie growled. “She needs to stop now.”
“Ms. Thorne, would you like to take a recess?” Judge Kawa asked gently.
Taryn shook her head. “No. I just…want to say it all. Is that okay?”
“Go on.”
She looked miserable and lost sitting alone there in her wheelchair. Had she been carrying this burden inside her all this time? Was that the reason the girl hadn’t wanted to cooperate with her therapy?
“I didn’t put my seat belt on. Neither did Layla. I don’t know why. We just didn’t. Charlie was telling us on the way home he was going to turn himself in and tell the police what he had done. We were all f-fighting and yelling and then we…saw lights behind us. Charlie swore. He said he was going to pull over.” She hitched in a little sob of a breath. “I told him to go. I screamed at him, over and over. I said, Just go! Just go! Just go! I knew…my dad would kill me.”
“Just be quiet, Taryn!” Charlie yelled, but his white-faced father restrained him.
“No!” she shouted back. “It wasn’t…your f-fault. You wante
d to stop. We all made you drive f-faster. Even…Layla said to keep going. She said her uncle wouldn’t chase us in the snow and we could get home. You wanted to stop. We should have let you stop. I’m so sorry. It’s my f-fault. All of it…was my idea. I should have been…the one to die. Not Layla. Not Layla.”
She was weeping now, great gusting sobs. Brodie jerked to his feet and rushed to his daughter’s side, heedless of courtroom decorum. He leaned down and folded her into his arms and she sobbed against him and Evie’s heart cracked and broke apart with love for both of them.
Through her own tears, her gaze landed on Maura. She looked stricken, lost. Beside her, Mary Ella hugged her daughter tightly.
Even the judge looked shaken. She banged her gavel as the courtroom seemed to quiver with reaction. “Order. Order! Is that all you wish to say, Ms. Thorne?”
Taryn’s head brushed Brodie’s shirt as she nodded.
“In that case, I believe we need a recess. We will reconvene in fifteen minutes for the remaining statements.”
Evie sat for a moment, not sure what to do. Poor, poor Taryn. She genuinely believed she was responsible for the events of that night. She likely thought she deserved everything bad that had happened to her.
She had tried to tell them all, over and over, not to blame Charlie but no one would listen to her.
Brodie was trying to push Taryn out of the courtroom, she suddenly realized, but was struggling to make it through the crowd milling in the aisle. Evie—well used to the strange phenomenon that people seemed to not heed a wheelchair even when it was nearly rolling over their toes—stood up to help clear a path for him.
In the process, she ended up just ahead of them out in the hall. Almost as if they were a unit, as the Beaumonts had been, which she knew they absolutely were not.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Taryn said when they were clear of the crowd. “I’m so sorry. I know…you hate me now.”
“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, sweetheart.”
RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry SummerWoodrose MountainSweet Laurel Falls Page 54