Nine
Travis struggled with what to write in his notes as he waited for Erin to return from the ladies’ room.
He’d been met in vastly different ways by clients over the years, but never quite like Erin had just greeted him. When he’d first appeared in the waiting area, she’d run toward him as if he held the sole life preserver as they were all drowning in the ocean.
Or had that been his imagination?
Hard to tell with the way his heart had jumped its regular rhythm. Erin Jacobs was one beautiful woman, which presented unique challenges of its own. Travis knew he could maintain a professional distance, but interpreting her moods in order to write his reports objectively might be difficult.
Once she’d reached his side, she suddenly looked lost as if maybe that wasn’t where she’d wanted to be. Again, not the response Travis normally produced. He was used to clients being uncomfortable around him, but never terrified. The expression on Erin’s face had pierced him through and through. How was he going to put her at ease when her moods shifted around like a puck on an ice rink?
So he’d talked football. Football! Like that made any sense.
During the last twelve minutes, and it had been exactly twelve because he’d been timing it, he’d only stared at his report pad, praying for wisdom.
He definitely needed it because Erin Jacobs and Baby Joshua were obviously not an ordinary case.
A light tapping startled him, jerking him back to the present.
Two heads—one auburn, one blond—peeked around the corner of his cubicle. “Are we in the right place?”
“Yes. Come on in.” Travis motioned to the one empty chair he’d already cleared off. “Everything okay?”
“Absolutely.” Erin smiled and looked directly into his eyes as if challenging him to declare her and Joshua anything but perfectly fine.
Travis nodded. “Great. As I explained on the phone, we need to sign a few papers, then run across the street to see the judge. After we receive her approval, I’ll go over the process of the next ninety days.”
He moved the desktop football goal so he could place the sheaf of papers in front of her. When she cast a sideways look at the game, he explained, “It puts some of my younger clients at ease. I have several—Nerf football, Nerf darts, maze bead games. I guess Joshua is a little too young.”
She tilted her head and studied him, but didn’t respond.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She looked down at the papers, a smile playing on her lips.
“You don’t believe the games are for kids.”
Her smile grew, but still she didn’t look up from the papers.
“Why don’t you believe me, Erin?”
When she did look up, her brown eyes were laughing at him, and he didn’t mind one bit. Though he knew the joke was on him, though he had no idea what the joke was, it was better than the confusion he’d seen written on her face fifteen minutes ago.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “So, I’m busted. What gave me away?”
His confession pulled out her laughter, evaporating any residual tension. “If the football goal was for your clients it would have been on the other side of your cubicle, where they could shoot from this seat. Since it’s here, it must be for you to shoot… from your seat.”
He sank back into his chair and studied her. “You’re the first client to call me on that. Either you’re the first to notice, or you’re the first to realize I’m an overgrown kid.”
Instead of answering, she fussed with Joshua. He noticed she handled the baby a bit more naturally than she had the day before, her hands moving over the infant lovingly and with the ease of a biological mother. He made a mental note to put a notation on his sheet about it.
“Moving helps me to think, puzzle things out. Working in this cube—some days I think I’m going to go completely nuts. The games help.”
She met his gaze, nodded, and then returned her attention to the papers. “What does this clause mean?”
They spent the next twenty minutes going over the legal wording.
“Ready to go next door?”
Her eyes widened, and he noticed she clutched Joshua tightly, but her reply was firm. “Yes.”
“Let’s do this then.”
Her death grip around Joshua relaxed the moment they stepped into the sunshine, but her face still looked drained of all color.
“I suppose it helps to have your office across the square from the courthouse.”
“Doesn’t hurt.” He walked between her and the stopped traffic as they crossed at the light. Reaching to help her at the curb, he couldn’t help but notice that her hand was ice cold.
She proceeded toward the steps of the Polk County Courthouse, the expression on her face looking like the caricature of a man headed for the gallows. It might have been comical if it hadn’t tugged at his heart.
“Erin, wait a minute.” He pulled her into the meager shade of a crepe myrtle tree. “This is a formality. There’s nothing to worry about. Section 262 of the Family Code requires my office to request an initial hearing. The judge will appoint an attorney for Joshua—”
“How will I pay for—”
“Paid for by my office.” He clutched her case folder with one hand and pushed his other into his pocket—anything to keep himself from reaching out and smoothing the worry off her face. “I explained this on the phone. We’re seeking termination of the parent-child relationship, based on the fact that Joshua’s mother voluntarily relinquished him under the Safe Haven law.”
He watched her swallow, switch Joshua from one arm to the other, and knew she wanted to trust him.
“What if the judge says no? What if they take him away?”
“The police have searched and found no missing child report that matches Joshua. They’ll continue to look, but at this point, there’s nothing standing in the way of temporary placement.”
She nodded, and a hint of color flowed back into her face.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Let’s take Joshua to see the judge.”
Walking into the courtroom, standing beside her as the bailiff read their names, Travis realized anew how intimidating the process could be. When Erin’s moment before the bench came, she did herself proud.
Judge Boultinghouse was in her fifties, though only the spectacles she peered over hinted at her age. Thin hair fashionably dyed in a blend of light and dark browns reached to her shoulders. She wore the dignity of her robes well.
“I’d say Baby Joshua is lucky you found him, Miss Jacobs. We need more citizens willing to step forward and help raise our less fortunate children. Mr. Williams, I expect to see your full assessment within ninety days, including physicians and law enforcement reports.”
“Of course, Your Honor.”
When she stamped the papers, Erin jumped. Then the judge declared, “Next,” and he thought for a split second Erin might throw her arms around his neck.
Her face lit up, the worry evaporated, and he was struck again with her fresh, absolute beauty.
“That’s it?” She stood so close to him he caught the scent of the shampoo she used—something reminding him of honeysuckle in bloom.
“That’s it. We can go.”
She pulled in her bottom lip, trying to bite back the smile that wouldn’t be tempered. Finally, she satisfied herself with burying her face in Joshua’s curls.
“Let’s go into the hall and sign the judge’s papers.”
They sat in the hard wooden chairs. She had signed everything, and he’d made her a copy on the clerk’s machine and slipped it into an envelope.
They both stood and moved toward the doors. Then he upset her world one more time.
“Expect my first visit before Monday.”
“Excuse me?” She’d been switching Joshua from one arm to the other, stuffing the envelope into her bag, and pulling the bag over her shoulder. At his words, her head jerked u
p and her auburn hair fell into her eyes.
Travis had the irrational urge to reach forward and tuck the curls out of her eyes so she could see better, so she could understand. Instead, he took a step back and spoke slowly, clearly. She’d processed a lot of information in one day. It was no wonder she was having trouble retaining it all.
“I’ll make my first site visit before Monday. As we discussed, some of my calls will be scheduled, but some will be impromptu.”
“I understand about the visits, but why will you be there?”
Over the course of the afternoon, the tension between them had eased until it was nearly gone. Now it had returned like a thick fog between them. Travis shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
“Erin, I can’t conduct the visits unless I’m present.”
“But…” She looked around the hall, then juggled Joshua to her other arm. “Will you be there every time?”
Travis had viewed her college scores when he did a background check. He knew she wasn’t dense. “How can I conduct a visit if I’m not there?”
“I thought the caseworker did the visits.”
“Erin, I am your caseworker.”
—
Erin stared at Travis Williams and tried to string words together to make a coherent sentence come out of her mouth. She tried once, twice, and then she gave up.
“Why don’t you sit back down? I’ll get you a glass of water.”
She backed into the chair she’d just left and plopped into it. Better than falling onto the floor, which is what she would do if she trusted her legs another minute.
Travis Williams was her caseworker?
She could not have heard him right.
She’d made it through the last ninety minutes. She’d survived placing their lives in the hands of a judge, trusting their future to Travis’s report. The knowledge that he would be out of her life, that she wouldn’t have to look across the table at those blue eyes that seemed to want to probe deeper into hers than they had a right, well that knowledge had given her courage. She could endure anything for ninety minutes.
So she’d relaxed, even managed to be personable.
Because it had only been for ninety minutes!
She couldn’t possibly tolerate the man for ninety days. Scheduling weekly visits? Showing up at her house unannounced? Visiting her during work hours?
Suddenly, all the things she’d agreed to on the pages she’d signed leapt out to her. While she’d been reading the papers she’d pictured a sweet, gray-haired lady coming by to check on her and Joshua. She had not pictured tall, blond, and handsome. She didn’t need or want him in her life.
Travis appeared with a Styrofoam cup of water and pushed it into her hands. “Drink this. You lost all your color there for a minute.”
She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip. Anything to put off speaking to him for another minute. How could she convince him she needed a different caseworker?
Then, as in so many other times in her life, she heard Jules’s soft voice. “Never be afraid to ask for what you need, Erin. It can’t hurt to ask.”
Her foster father could not have envisioned the situation she was in now, but he’d been the wisest man she’d ever known, wiser even than Doc. She took another sip of water, aware of Travis’s eyes on her, of Joshua’s weight in her arms.
Drawing a deep breath, she set the cup down and pulled herself up to her straightest posture.
When she spoke, she looked Travis straight in the eyes so there would be no misunderstanding. “I don’t mean to be rude or impertinent, Mr. Williams—”
“Travis.” He smiled, clearly relieved she wasn’t going to faint on him or go running off for another prolonged bathroom break.
“Travis. I didn’t realize you would be my caseworker. That you would be the person doing the site visits. I thought you would hand my case over to another worker.”
Understanding dawned on his face. Erin was tempted to look away as heat crept up her neck, burning her cheeks. It would be easier not to look into those blue eyes given what she was about to say, but this was too important. Ninety days! He had to know she was serious.
“You have been very kind to both Joshua and myself, but I personally would be more comfortable if I could have a woman caseworker. Perhaps someone older.”
Travis started to interrupt her, but she put her hand up and stopped him. “It’s nothing against you, and I realize this is an unusual request. It would be a great favor to me though if you could arrange it.”
For the first time since she’d met him, the man was speechless. She took his silence as a better sign than a no.
Perhaps she should leave and allow him time to consider her request. Jumping out of the seat, she walked to the end of the hall. She had almost escaped when he spoke.
“I don’t think I can do that, Erin. Once a caseworker is assigned, unless there is due cause, according to Section Eight of the Code, changing personnel is impossible.”
She turned on him then, trying to think of what else she could say. What frustrated her was the knowledge that this man held all the cards, and he held her future.
So she said nothing. Instead she simply nodded, turned, and fled.
Ten
Erin pushed through the doors of the courthouse, back out into the waning afternoon sunshine, and walked straight into Chance Stubber of The Livingston Daily.
He raised his camera in front of his chubby, acne-pocked face and clicked twice.
“What are you doing, Chance?”
“Interviewing you and Baby Joshua. This is going to be bigger than any of your other stories, Miss Jacobs. This is front-page material.”
Erin skirted around him at the same moment Travis walked out the door.
“What’s going on?” he said.
“I’m reporting on the Baby Moses case.” Chance turned toward Travis, snapping a picture of him, then holding out his recorder. “Do you have any comments as the caseworker, Mr. Williams?”
“I do not,” Travis growled.
Erin had made it halfway down the steps. On hearing the tone of Travis’s voice, she turned, curious as to what had riled him so. She was familiar with Livingston’s small paper. Although Chance could be a nuisance at times, she also considered him harmless.
The young reporter took advantage of her pause and jogged to catch up, pushing his micro-recorder in her face.
“Is it true you found him on the porch of a hunter’s cabin? Can you confirm you were actually on an animal rescue at the time?”
Erin had opened her mouth to respond when Travis swooped to her side, placing a steadying hand on her back, and towered over Chance.
“Miss Jacobs is leaving. This child’s case is sealed by Judge Boultinghouse, and unless you want to walk inside and discuss it with the judge, I suggest you take your tape recorder and slither back to your van.”
Erin forced herself to ignore the feel of his hand on her back and focused instead on the turf war between the two men. Travis scored points on physical intimidation. And though sweat had broken out on Chance’s brow, the young man didn’t back down.
“I wouldn’t presume to break any of the Family Code Statutes, Mr. Williams. However, Miss Jacobs is free to share her story with the good folks of Livingston.”
Erin thought she could hear Travis grind his molars together, though at least this time he wasn’t pompous enough to answer for her.
Fortunately, Joshua did. He let out a cry, loud and lusty, which no doubt reached the inner chambers of the court, and he continued to wail.
“No, Chance.” She glanced once at Travis, then over toward her truck. “I have no comment.”
—
She was grateful neither man followed her to her truck. She settled Joshua in his seat, placated him with a pacifier, and drove out of the lot. She made it around the corner and three blocks down before her temper flared.
She checked for traffic, pulled carefully over into the fast-food parking area, partia
lly lowered the windows, and slipped the transmission into park.
Checked the parking brake.
Checked Joshua, who was now sleeping sweetly.
She quietly stepped out of the truck, shut the door as gently as a whisper, then let loose like a tornado.
She ranted.
She raved.
She paced back and forth in the late afternoon sun, not caring if folks hustling in to get their burgers saw the crazy lady talking to herself. If she didn’t let off some steam she’d go back and tell Travis Williams exactly what she thought, and what good would that do?
None.
Go by the book indeed. Ninety days of his visits, his snooping, his prying into her life. Twelve weeks! She’d have to put up with his smug face and GQ looks for twelve weeks.
She stopped her pacing and checked in the front window.
Joshua slept on, oblivious to her meltdown.
Which was how she wanted to raise him, completely oblivious to any hardship around him. The child had suffered enough.
She resumed her pacing and looked up to see a discount shopping center across the street. Travis would be checking to see if she’d set up a sleeping area for Joshua. She couldn’t keep putting him in troughs and kitty baskets.
And he could stop by her place tomorrow!
She clamped her jaw together and walked around to the driver’s door, wondering for the hundredth time if she should call Dana.
She wanted nothing more than her sister’s arms around her. Her sister—who was now married. The thought of her new brother-in-law made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. She could finally stop worrying about Dana. Ben Marshall would see that nothing happened to her.
Which was a rather funny thought since her sister was the director of the Department of Homeland Security office in Taos, New Mexico. It was a small office, but it still had its share of danger, which was why Dana loved it. She’d fled Texas and all their family history and started over in New Mexico. Then Ben had come to work for her while she was chasing a lunatic. The timing had been perfect. Not only had he worked alongside Dana providing needed expertise, he’d fallen in love with her. He’d also been patient and waited until Dana realized she felt the same. Many late night phone calls had kept Erin apprised of the status of their relationship, and she hadn’t been a bit surprised when they’d finally married. She’d been happy for them! Her sister deserved a normal life.
Protected (Jacobs Family Series Book 2) Page 6