by Angel Smits
“You mean it?”
“Yeah.”
Before they could discuss it further, the front door opened and a draft cut through the room. Tyler was home. Wyatt didn’t want Tyler coming in here to see them both drinking in the middle of the afternoon.
“Uncle Wyatt? DJ?” Tyler called.
DJ winced. Would Tyler ever call DJ Dad? Wyatt hoped so.
“Perfect,” DJ mumbled. Yet he actually sat up straighter in his chair and settled the glass on the side table instead of in his hand.
Maybe there was hope for him, after all.
* * *
“MR. HAWKINS IS HERE to see you.” Dianne’s voice broke into Emily’s concentration, what there was of it. Dianne stood in the doorway, having given up on Emily answering the phone.
Emily’s heart skipped a beat, which must have shone on her face as Dianne shook her head. “Sorry. DJ Hawkins.”
Despite her disappointment, Emily’s curiosity spiked. What could DJ want? “Send him in.”
The man who walked slowly into her office a few moments later was not the same man she’d met at the hospital, or each week at Wyatt’s house. The soldier was back, and not just because of the uniform he wore. His whole body language said warrior.
“Hello.” She stood and walked around her desk.
“Hi, Emily.” His smile was appealing, though stiff as if he were ignoring the pain she knew he never really escaped.
“What can I do for you?” She gestured to the two wing-backed chairs. He walked carefully across the room and sat down facing her. If she hadn’t known about his injuries, she wouldn’t have noticed the slow hesitance of his gait.
Once they were settled, he met her gaze. “I need your help.” He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. One thing the military taught me is to speak up when you need help, and everyone needs help sometimes.”
“Is everything okay with Tyler?”
He nodded. “This isn’t really about Tyler. It’s Wyatt.”
“Oh.” Emily’s heart pounded in her chest.
DJ leaned forward, his weight on his left side. The look on his face changed again. It softened. His voice came out low and controlled. “Here’s my situation. I’m recovering, but not fast enough, or well enough for the military. I understand the requirements, and the decision my superiors are going to most likely make is to medically discharge me.”
Emily saw a flash of pain go through his eyes, but it was quickly shut down.
“I’ve never wanted to do or be anything else but a soldier. So I have few other skills.”
She understood. “You’re concerned about supporting Tyler.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “Tyler’s amazing. Though he does talk a little too much. He gets that from his mother.” His voice softened. “She was something else, too. At some point, I have to go find Tammie.”
That surprised Emily. She wanted to ask about the woman, but wasn’t sure how much he wanted to share. She was surprised when he actually relaxed.
“Tammie was one of those...ethereal moments in my life. She came through, changing everything and leaving next to nothing of herself behind. I was—” he paused as if trying to find the right word “—overwhelmed.”
“Do you know how to find her?”
“That is my one skill. I have Uncle Sam to thank for that. Finding her won’t be the hard part. Catching her will.”
Emily frowned. “Can I ask you something?” What she was thinking went against everything she’d believed in her role as a magistrate.
“Sure.”
“Do you have to find her?”
He thought about it for a minute, then nodded. “Yeah. Tyler needs closure. He deserves that.”
Emily agreed. “What does this have to do with Wyatt? What can I do to help?”
“Be ready.” DJ shifted in his seat, and Emily sensed he wished he could get up and pace with his old ease. None of the Hawkins men seemed able to stay put when they were thinking.
“For what?”
“For when I tell Wyatt that until I can support my son, I’m not going to petition for custody. Hear me out.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “Wyatt and Tyler love it out on the ranch. But I can’t figure out my future there.” He looked down. “I can’t stay out there and not kill Wyatt. Plain and simple.”
Emily tried not to smile. She didn’t want DJ to think she was belittling his predicament. “Jason was close,” she said. “He gave you guys two weeks. You made it to almost three.”
DJ looked up, shocked, then he laughed. “Okay, I guess we are a bit predictable. But do you understand?” He sobered.
“I do.” She needed time to think, but she agreed with his decision, if for no other reason than to see Wyatt again.
DJ stood, slowly levering himself up with his arms on the edge of the chair. “Thank you.”
After DJ left her office, Emily sat behind her desk and stared out the window. What a mess. If DJ didn’t ask to open the case to take custody of Tyler, it sat as is with her name as the judge of record, though the case was closed. There’d be no questions about whether she was impartial or not. Time would only strengthen her situation.
She should feel good about that.
But Wyatt had been so sure DJ would come back and take Tyler. To be fair, DJ wanted that, but was trying to make a good decision, one based on Tyler’s needs and welfare. Yet that left Wyatt with the responsibility, and most likely a sense that DJ hadn’t followed through as Wyatt expected.
A few moments later, Emily heard the throaty rumble of a motorcycle and looked out her office window. DJ sat on a large, loud motorcycle. The uniform and the machine seemed at odds, yet both fit him—perfectly.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMILY HADN’T SEEN her mother in nearly a month. Guilt had almost pushed her here several times, but she’d resisted. Knew she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t sure if she was ready now, but it was time.
Helen Walker was fading. Emily might not have noticed if she’d visited her mother each day. But now, with the time away, she saw it. In her thinning frame. In the ashy tone of her skin. In the lack of animation in her movements, especially her hands. Hands that were, for the first time in Emily’s memory, idle.
“Hi, Mom.” Emily wasn’t sure if her mother would recognize her today. But for the first time, it didn’t matter so much. Jackson’s explanation had helped ease some of Emily’s doubts and concerns. She had just needed time to process it all.
“Hello, Emily.”
Pleasantly surprised that her mother recognized her, Emily sat beside her on the love seat. The silence didn’t feel so heavy today.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Thanks.” She leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder, ignoring the hard edges, relishing the love she realized had driven her mother to do the things she’d done.
“What’d I do?”
“You’re a good mom.” Emily leaned back so she could look into her mother’s face. “I met Jackson a few days ago. He told me about the coins.”
When the fear crept into Helen’s eyes, Emily curled her hand around her mother’s. “Don’t worry, Mom. No one else knows.” Helen visibly relaxed.
“It’s a secret,” Helen whispered.
“I know, Mom.”
Helen’s eyes grew distant, and Emily feared the confusion was creeping back in. Emily wished she could have more times like this, but even if Mom was alert all the time, life didn’t work that way.
“Can I ask a question?” Emily whispered.
“Of course.”
“Do you know who Earl stole the coins from?” Emily was pretty sure that Jackson had figured it out. Drew knew. He wouldn’t want them so badly if he didn’t. She wasn�
��t about to ask him. And Jackson refused to tell her anything more. The elderly man was as protective as Wyatt. She had to appreciate the old-fashioned chivalry even as it irritated the hell out of her.
“I think so,” Helen said.
“Will you tell me?”
“I— It’s too dangerous.” Helen picked at the hem of her blouse. Emily backed off. Curiosity was the only thing driving Emily to ask, and she acknowledged that it wasn’t worth upsetting her mother. Maybe she was better off not knowing.
Helen looked at Emily then, her eyes clear, though the fatigue in them was thick. “I tried to do my best. I love you, Emily.”
“I know, Mom.”
Helen leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “This is nice,” she whispered and smiled. Emily got up slowly, not wanting to disturb her mother. For the first time in years, Mom looked relaxed and at peace.
She looked... “Mom?” Emily’s voice trembled. Helen didn’t respond. Her eyes didn’t flicker. The breath didn’t move in and out. “Mom?”
Helen was gone. She should call someone. Why now? It was time. She’d known this would come, known it wasn’t far off the last time she’d been here. Tears blurred her eyes, but she refused to look away, drinking in the last images. She trembled, fighting every instinct to scream and cry. “Goodbye, Mom,” she whispered and folded her arms around the woman she’d never before lived without.
* * *
THUNDERCLOUDS SETTLED ON the horizon, blanketing the hills to the west. Wyatt pulled his collar up tighter around his neck. He’d be out here at least another half hour since Prism had thrown a shoe in the last canyon.
The West Texas desert, especially with an impending storm, was no place to be walking, but he had no choice. He couldn’t risk Prism.
They topped the next rise and Wyatt stopped. The big horse seemed to sense his mood and nudged his shoulder. He’d specifically taken this path today. He’d needed it. From here he could see the entire spread. The hills, the valleys, the outbuildings and, farther in the distance, the ranch house. Home. Every inch of it screamed out to him.
Empty home, it whispered.
Despite everyone who lived there, everyone who came through the doors each day, there was one face missing. Emily. He ached to see her, touch her again.
Maybe if—and that seemed like a big if at this point, from the looks of the clouds—DJ got home early enough tonight, he’d head into town.
Knowing that was unlikely, Wyatt cursed and gave Prism’s reins a tug. “Come on, boy. Let’s get moving. That storm’s coming in fast.” Besides, Tyler would be home from school soon and Wyatt didn’t like him coming home to an empty house.
Wyatt didn’t beat the rain. By the time he and Prism reached the barn, sheets of water were falling over them. Puddles, lakes actually, grew in the yard. Standing at the open barn door once Prism was settled, Wyatt watched it come down. He could barely see across the yard. He was already soaked—what was a little more? The kitchen light was on, which meant Tyler was home and probably fixing himself an after-school snack. Who knew what the kid would find in the cupboards. Addie’s addictive cookies were long gone.
He dashed out into the downpour.
“Hope you beat the rain, kiddo,” he called as he stepped into the mudroom. Tyler didn’t answer, but that wasn’t so strange, either. Wyatt hung up his hat and soaked duster. His boots and jeans would just have to dry on their own. The kitchen was warm. His footsteps were loud against the ancient linoleum.
“Uncle Wyatt, look.” Tyler sat at the kitchen table, in Dad’s big captain’s chair that DJ normally sat in these days.
“What am I looking at?” He grinned at the boy who was munching on a cookie. He must have missed a batch Addie had left.
“Her.” Tyler pointed toward the stove the same instant he rolled his eyes.
Wyatt looked over his shoulder then spun around. “What the—”
“Hello,” Emily whispered. She leaned against the stove, a steaming cup, probably full of tea, gripped between her hands. Steam wafted up into her face, drawing his eyes to the damp curls falling around her face. She was wearing a dress. He’d seen her in business suits and jeans, but never in a frilly summer dress like this one. The soft, thin fabric was vaguely transparent and clung to her skin. Even soaking wet, she looked better than he remembered.
Words failed him and he cleared his throat to loosen them. “Uh... Is there more of that?” He pointed at the cup.
“You don’t like tea.” She tried to smile and took a healthy sip of her drink. “What about this?” She moved away from the stove, revealing the full pot of coffee. She headed toward the table, but he stopped her as she went to pass him.
Her skin felt cool and so soft against his palm. “Why are you here?” It wasn’t a day for a court visit. He was glad to see her, but something in her body language told him he might have to rethink that.
She didn’t look at him, she simply stood there, staring into her cup for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she lifted her gaze and he felt the sucker punch in his gut.
“What happened?” he whispered. She simply shook her head and looked over at Tyler.
He understood and his heart dropped. He knew that later, without Tyler’s ears in range, she’d most likely break his heart.
Slowly, Wyatt poured himself a cup of coffee, gathering his thoughts and the shreds of his emotions before turning back around to watch Emily settle in the chair next to Tyler. She smiled at the boy. Her shoulders hunched, her eyes shone with unshed tears and she held the cup in a death grip. Something had happened. Something bad. And he didn’t have a clue if it had anything to do with Tyler or not.
Panic came out of nowhere and attacked. What if she was here to take Tyler? He knew it didn’t really work that way, but in such a short time, Tyler had found his way into Wyatt’s heart. He couldn’t imagine not having him in his life.
He forced himself to lean back against the counter and shut out such thoughts. He was being a selfish jerk, thinking it had to do with him, something Addie repeatedly told him he was good at it. What if something was wrong with Emily?
Tyler finished two cookies and half a glass of milk before he jumped down from his chair. Sitting still for him was a limited activity. “I’m done. Can I go watch TV?” he asked as he bounded toward the living room.
“Do you have homework?”
“Only math. Can you help me with it after supper?”
Wyatt fought the smile. He was thrilled to have Tyler ask for help, but he knew a stall when he saw one. In this case, it worked in his favor. “Sure. Don’t turn it up too loud, though.”
“’Kay.” Tyler ran out of the room, all the energy leaving with him.
The silence that followed was thick. Heavy. Wyatt slowly finished his coffee. Emily barely moved. She looked suddenly stiff. As if the very idea of breathing would shatter her into a million pieces.
“You okay?” he whispered, afraid to say too much.
She did that staring-into-the-tea thing again. Only this time the cup was empty. “I...” She tried to talk, but her voice faded. “I need...” She stopped again, chewing her bottom lip. Finally, she looked up at him. “What do I do?” The movement spilled the tears over the rims of her eyes.
Wyatt couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t watch her hurt like this. Two steps brought him to her, where he hunkered down. “Emily, tell me. I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
She sobbed, but swallowed it deep into her chest. Finally, the words broke from her throat. “Mom. I... We were visiting. She just closed her eyes.” Her voice wavered. “She...she...d-died today.”
Emily crumbled. Wyatt grabbed her cup at the same instant he pulled her close. He was shocked at how hard she was trembling. It shook them both.
The linoleum was cool beneath him. She curled in
on herself and he settled her close in his lap. “I’m here,” he whispered, knowing she didn’t hear him, but hoping that somewhere she felt him there, holding her, protecting her. He understood her hurt. Though he’d had months to prepare for his mom’s death, nothing prepared you for that initial pain of losing the one person who’d always been there, always shown you love.
He didn’t wish that pain on anyone. He wanted to take hers away, but was hopeless to do anything but hold her. It was all he could do and prayed it was enough.
For a long time, he just held her. His hands moved slowly up and down her back, soothing.
The rain beat against the roof and windows as lightning cracked outside. A loud boom of thunder shook the house.
“Hey,” he whispered against Emily’s ear. She’d cried until there couldn’t possibly be any tears left. She was still soaked, which only intensified her shivers. He would stay here, holding her, as long as she needed, but the best thing for her was to get up and get warm.
“Come on,” he said a little louder and leaned back.
The sound of footsteps at the back door startled her out of the lethargy and she climbed slowly to her feet.
Standing, she tilted her head back and met his gaze. He saw the instant her mood shifted.
“Thank you,” she whispered, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him.
* * *
EMILY WAS DONE playing by the rules. She’d always been a good girl, yet Earl had still abused her. She’d taken care of her mom, found her a safe place to live. But she’d died, anyway. She’d backed away from the one man who’d been willing to take her on and where had all that gotten her?
She was alone. She had no one.
She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Emily couldn’t differentiate between the shivers from the cold rain and the trembling that had started as soon as Rose had moved her away from her mother.
Wyatt’s arms eased them, either way.