Rogue Nights

by Ainsley Booth

  Neal’s spot-on observation hit me in the chest like a battering ram and I staggered on my feet, finding my chair to slump down in it. He was right. I had been an asshole and if I’d been Judah I would have thrown myself out too.

  My brother rose to his feet, his expression etched with more compassion than censure and I had the feeling that it was more than I deserved. He walked the few steps to the door and turned to me. “Judah is just a man who wants the chance to be a father to his son. If that privilege requires him to be perfect then I don’t know how the hell any of us will ever be worthy. Including me.”

  12

  Judah

  “Gideon, just remember that no matter what happens today—”

  “… you will never stop fighting for me.” My son, looking incredibly big and mature in his polo shirt, khaki pants, and Spiderman sneakers. He had just finished talking to the judge about his feelings about coming to live with me and he’d exited the judge’s chambers and climbed into my lap and wrapped his arms around my neck. “I told her that I want to come live with you Dad.” He pulled back and tucked a strand of my hair back behind my ear. I had it pulled back today in a ponytail but I’d dislodged some of it with my nervous fidgeting. “I told her about Fat Dave too. She said that she’s never met a one-eyed cat before.”

  “Well, then she’s a very unlucky judge.”

  “Yep.”

  “Mr. Nighthorse, the judge is ready for you now.” One of the court officers stood in the doorway that led to the judge’s chambers, his face impassive but also signaling that he would take no shit in his courthouse.

  I turned to press a kiss to Gideon’s head and eased him off my lap with a hug. “You stay here with the Auntie and I’ll be back soon.”

  I wanted to say that when I came back that we’d be going home together but I knew better than to make promises I couldn’t keep. Gideon had had too much uncertainty in his life, I wasn’t going to add his need to doubt my word to the list.

  I ran my hands over my jacket, shirt and pants; avoiding my tie because there was no hope of me fixing it if I messed it up. The judge’s chambers was part office and part conference room and when I walked in Judge Garnett was seated at one end of the long table surrounded my attorney, the guardian ad litem Ms. Ball, Tribal Judge Ballard and Adam. They all looked up in my direction but it was his eyes that I locked with first and my stomach tightened with the surge of recognition and longing. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since that morning in my kitchen and even though I’d never admit it out loud, the tremor in my hand said that I’d missed him.

  His expression was guarded but he lifted his lips in a reassuring half-smile and it did ease the tension in my chest a little. I’d felt betrayed by Adam but a few days of distance had convinced me that he hadn’t meant to hurt me. I knew him well enough for that. But if I won today I was going to have my hands full with Gideon and I didn’t think I would have much time left for whatever was still between the two of us.

  I tore my gaze away from him and forced my face into a smile for the judge. “Good morning, your honor.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Nighthorse.” She waved her hand towards an empty chair. “Please have a seat and we can get started.”

  I did as I was told and glanced around the table, trying not to fidget or vomit at the most important moment of my life.

  “Mr. Nighthorse, I’ve spent the morning with your attorney and the guardian ad litem for Gideon. We’ve been going over the official reports from everyone, including Judge Ballard, your records from the prison, and your counselors.” She adjusted the papers before her on the table and grinned. “I also spoke to Gideon and he is a very special boy.”

  “He really is,” I said, unable to do anything but agree.

  “And I understand that Fat Dave is the best one-eyed cat in the whole world.”

  I chuckled at that. “He is also a girl.”

  “So, I hear.” She looked down at the table and opened a folder but at my distance I couldn’t tell what she was reading. I glanced at my attorney but his focus was on the judge as well. Eventually she closed the folder and looked at me. “Mr. Nighthorse, I have to admit that I was concerned and disappointed to hear about the incident the other night on the Rocky Boys Reservation. You’ve shown remarkable progress and determination to be the man that Gideon needs in his life and this was a concerning lapse in judgment. I understand why you were upset, that was a difficult thing to deal with. I’m not inclined to throw all of your progress out the window because of this one incident but I’d like to hear from you. Is there anything you want to say?”

  I’d known that I would probably get a chance to talk to the judge. My attorney had prepped me for it and Adam had mentioned that it was a perfect chance for me to make sure that the judge saw me as a person and not just a case number.

  I’d spent years planning for this moment and now it was here.

  “First, I want to say that I am thankful for the Morgans and how well they’ve cared for Gideon these last two years. I also know that there are many papers in there that try to define who I am. Lots of information about what I’ve done and what I’m doing.” I rubbed my palms, sticky with my sweat on my thighs under the table, wishing I could stand and move around the room to burn off some of my nervous energy. “I have done lots of things I’m not proud of but I’m not going to make excuses for them. I take full responsibility for my actions and the consequences. I robbed that store and I served my time. I lost my temper the other night and I will do my best to never let that happen again.” I glanced around at the other people sitting at the table and met their eyes one-by-one. “But I’ve done a few things I am proud of. I got my GED in prison and I learned that I am really good at building furniture and I love the peace it brings to my life. I made amends with the family and friends I let down. I got a great job and I enrolled in college. I’m proud of all these things because they are my proof that I can change my life. But I’m most proud of Gideon, even though I can’t claim that I have anything to do with what an amazing kid he is. That honor goes to his mom, April Windrunner.”

  I took a breath and went on, growing more confident with what I wanted to say as I went on. “But I also want a chance to be able to see what an amazing man Gideon will be and to maybe play a small part in helping him get there. I just want the chance to be his dad. To go fishing at Bear Paw and play baseball. I want a chance to Pow Wow with him at Rocky Boy and to teach him about his ancestors.” I placed my hands on the table palms up. If it looked like begging, that was okay. I’d crawl if I had to. “I remember what it felt like to hold him the first few minutes after he was born and I knew that being the one lucky enough to be his father was a state of grace. I don’t know if I will ever be good enough to be Gideon’s father. All I’m asking is for the chance to be the best one I can be.”

  13

  Adam

  The room was as quiet as a church as we all absorbed what Judah had said.

  His words had been eloquent but, more importantly, they were sincere. I was biased, inclined to believe him, but nobody who was really listening could have doubted that he meant what he said.

  Judah’s attorney was making final remarks, nothing he hadn’t already said so I let his words wash over me as I snuck a glance at Judah. He had eyes on his counsel, his intense focus sharpening his features to a fine-honed beauty that I just couldn’t turn away from.

  It had been a long couple of days. Days where I’d talked myself out of calling him or going to his house a million times. But I’d been wrong, Neal had driven that point home with precision into my thick skull and Judah had been clear that I wasn’t welcome in his house anymore. I wasn’t ready to give up on us, our second chance, but this whole situation was complicated and I didn’t know where to go from here.

  “Mr. Woodson, do you have anything to add?”

  The judge’s voice snapped me back to the present and I forced myself back into the role I was here to fulfil. I wanted a chance to be wit
h Judah but maybe the best thing I could do for him was to make sure he had a life with Gideon. Knowing he had that happiness might have to be enough.

  “Yes, your Honor. I’d like to add my own final thoughts to this matter.” I cleared my throat, sneaking a glance at Judah and feeling the jolt when his dark eyes locked with mine. I forced myself to turn back to the judge even though all I wanted to do was look at him. “Judah Nighthorse has a past, one that involves a violent crime and a prison sentence. It also includes a childhood spent in the house of an alcoholic father, himself a victim of an era of forced residential schools. This is all well-documented in all the paperwork spread out before us.” I waved my hand across the tabletop and then placed it on my chest. “As the court is aware, I’ve known Judah for many years and I can tell you that the details contained in these reports does nothing to fully describe the childhood he survived. But none of that matters because Judah doesn’t use his past as an excuse like so many others have done when in this exact situation. No, Judah doesn’t even bring it up, except to acknowledge that his past puts a spotlight on the areas in his life that currently need support through counseling or education. He has created a solid support network within his community, finding the touchstone that keeps him grounded through the people of Rocky Boys and his ancestors. His soul deep connection to that intricate network of people is what gives him the strength to move forward and make such extraordinary changes in his life.”

  I paused to gather my thoughts for a split second, not wanting to belabor what the judge had already heard but searching for the one thing that would sum up why Judah deserved this chance.

  “Everyone here acknowledges that the Morgans have provided a wonderful home for Gideon when he needed it most after the murder of his mother, a time when Judah was unable to provide a home to him. Gideon could stay there until he is eighteen but that isn’t his home. His home is not just with his father but also the Chippewa Cree nation, with the people who share his past and will influence his future.” I leaned towards the judge, imploring her to hear what I was saying. “I’ve provided the court all the studies, data, and statistics that the Project could gather on how this often ends when a Native American parent seeks to regain custody of their child. The state more often than not decides that the child has more opportunity if he remains in the non-native home and to some extent that is true but only if you measure the value of a home by non-native standards. But when you acknowledge that that viewpoint is flawed and wrong because it ignores the value of growing up in a place where you truly belong, where you can trace your soul-ties back for generations, then you can only make one choice. Judah is the only one who can provide that place for Gideon. Rocky Boys is the only place that can provide that place for Gideon. Yes, you can assert the Morgan’s house is bigger and zoned for a better school district but it doesn’t have what Judah can offer: belonging, a history, and a past that can be Gideon’s touchstone for the rest of his life.”

  I turned to look at Judah, hoping that he heard in my voice and in my words the apology that was long overdue and the feelings in my heart that had never died. “Judah Nighthorse has made extraordinary changes in his life. He’s not a perfect man, he’s only human. But he’s a fighter, a man that will not give up until he does the best thing for his son no matter what others might say or try to convince him to believe. For that reason alone, I think we all have to admit that this imperfect man is the perfect father for Gideon.”

  * * *

  JUDAH

  It was over.

  I stood up from the table in the judge’s chambers on shaky legs, adrenaline still rushing through me in such a pulsing rhythm that every sound bounced off the inside of my brain like I was in a tunnel. I shook hands all around, barely registering the end of the hearing as I turned to head towards the door.

  Adam’s grasp was firm on my own and he murmured something but I didn’t hear him clearly. I didn’t matter anyway. With him was not where I needed to be right now. Later. We would have to wait for later.

  The doorknob was cool under my touch and the door felt heavier than it had been only an hour before. I pushed it open and stepped into the bright waiting room and looked around for my son. He looked up from the book he was reading to his Auntie, his big, dark eyes full of hope and fear as he slid off the bench and walked towards me.

  I met him in the middle and dropped to one knee, pulling him to my chest in a hug full of every ounce of love that I had for him as I whispered, “We won Gid. You’re coming home.”

  14

  Judah

  Two months later.

  “Gideon, don’t let Oliver hide all of the Slim Jim again.”

  My little man dodged Oliver and snagged the container of snacks, running towards where Gareth was loading the fishing gear in the back of my truck. Oliver made sure Gideon wasn’t looking, flipped me the bird with a grin and took off in a run after my kid. I kept packing the drinks cooler as they acted the fool in the yard. I soaked in the laughter. So damn grateful to have it in my life. To have Gideon in my life.

  The four weeks I’d had to wait for him to finish the school year were the longest of my life and that included the years I was in prison. But he’d moved into our house at the beginning of the summer and it was like we’d always been together. After living a nightmare for so many years, it was a dream come true for me and I hoped I never woke up.

  Fat Dave still hissed at me every chance he got and Gideon still kept his hair short but it was all good. It was my life, our life, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  “Come back here with those!” Oliver yelled as he chased him around the truck, making a couple of rotations before doubling back and snagging a surprised Gideon around the waist. Ollie tossed him over his shoulder, ignoring the squeals of outrage and giggles that spilled out of my son as he ran around in circles.

  I snorted when Gareth slid the last of the gear into the back, reached out a hand, took the cannister of Slim Jim’s out of Gideon’s hands and sprinted for the back door of the house. Oliver dumped Gideon on the ground and they both bolted for the house, slamming the door behind them.

  “I hope they don’t bring the house down. That Spiderman bed is completely badass.”

  I knew the rumble of that voice and I knew the heavy thud of the tread of his boots on the wooden steps of the deck. I paused in my dumping of the ice into the cooler and turned to find Adam only a few feet away. I dipped my head down and turned halfway back to the cooler, hiding my face. It was cowardly as shit but I didn’t want him to see what I knew was all over my face. Longing. Confusion. Disappointment. I’d never known the meaning of “pining” before but living through the last two months had fixed that. It sucked.

  But I’d be damned if I’d let him know it. Our reunion had only been a walk down memory lane for him. A temporary visit to the past and nothing more. He’d made that clear. Or I’d thought he had. It was hard to tell and I was too much of a coward to find out.

  My uncertainty had kept me from going to him and thanking him for his help. I’d chickened out and left a voicemail, at night when I knew the Project offices were closed.

  “If they mess up the wall they’ll redo it or I’ll kick their asses,” I answered, dumping the last of the ice into the cooler and shutting the lid.

  “You going somewhere?” He asked, glancing towards the fishing gear sticking out of the back of the truck.

  “We’re going fishing at Bear Paw Lake. It’s Gideon’s favorite spot.”

  “I love that spot too,” he answered, shifting from foot to foot and tapping his long fingers on his thigh. He was nervous, a look that didn’t fit his usual style. “How are you two doing? Gideon settling in well?”

  “It’s been great. Gideon loves being on Rocky Boys and we’ve kept up with some of his old school friends. Had some sleepovers with them.” Out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was nodding, still looking rattled and I braced myself for whatever thing he was here to do, finally meeting his
face head-on. “Why are you here, Adam?”

  I blamed my shock at seeing him and my jumbled nerves for making me sound like an asshole and his wince proved that the careless words had hit their unintended mark. This was not how I wanted us to go on. I started again.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. You’ve been great Adam, and I am very grateful for the way you helped me and Gideon,” I said, reaching out to grip his arm but he took a step back and my heart fell. We’d made every mistake you could make, this thing between us had never gotten a chance to be something but I couldn’t bear this distance. My rattled nerves threw me into full-on rambling. “I’ve been meaning to reach out to you, to apologize and to thank you but I wasn’t sure . . . I can’t say thank you enough for what you did and said. If it hadn’t been for you I wouldn’t have my son home with me. So thank you—”

  I had always loved it when Adam slipped his large hands behind my neck and held me tight in a kiss and this time was no different. My mouth opened under his on a gasp of surprise but it took only a matter of seconds for me to sink into it, to taste him and groan out my surrender of welcome. I wanted him, would always want him and even now with everything between us, all of the mistakes didn’t matter.

  “Jude, I don’t want you to be grateful.” He whispered before he leaned in again, pressing our lips together in a hard kiss that stuttered my heart in my chest. His eyes were open, wild and searching as we traded breaths, only fluttering closed as he released his hold on me and murmured, “I don’t want your gratitude, Jude. I want you.”

  “What?” I reached out to grip his waist, anchoring myself in place as my knees went liquid underneath me. “Adam, this isn’t funny.”