Judd put his hands on his hips and glared up at the opening of the hayloft. “They pulled up the ladder,” he growled. “Get down here now,” he called out to the boys.
There were more muffled voices and one not-so-quiet bark from Mango. It was the dog who trotted to the opening above them and looked at them. He wagged his tail in greeting even as someone—Beckham, probably—tried to pull him back.
“We know you’re up there,” Judd added.
“No, we’re not” was the response. Leo. As expected, his brothers gave him a whispered scolding.
Several moments later and after what sounded to be a tense discussion, the ladder appeared in the opening and slowly lowered to the ground. Judd set it in place and motioned for them to get moving. They did, at a snail’s pace, and Cleo soon realized that it must have taken some effort for them to get up there.
Isaac came down first. He had a bulging backpack over his shoulder and Popsicle tucked in the crook of his arm. Once he was halfway down, he tipped his head to Leo, who started down the rungs. Not exactly risk-free, since Leo still could have fallen, but Isaac was clearly ready in case that happened.
Judd stepped in, taking Popsicle and passing the kitten to Cleo before he hauled down both Isaac and Leo the rest of the way. Then Judd went up the ladder to get Mango. The kitten and puppy were obviously unaware of the looming trouble because they launched right into “let’s party” mode.
After Beckham was down, the boys stood in front of them as if they were in a police lineup. Isaac suddenly became riveted with the barn floor since he didn’t take his eyes off it. Though practically at attention, Leo giggled at Popsicle when he swatted Cleo’s earring. Beckham met their gazes head-on, giving them a decent defiant stare.
The silence came, dragging on except for Mango’s squeaky puppy bark. Cleo used the time to fire off some “we found them” texts to the people who were looking for the boys. Kace, Rosy, Buck, Callen, Shelby, Daisy and Tiny. She suspected there were others out there searching, maybe even the entire police department, so she added a request for Shelby to spread the word.
“Do we gotta go to jail?” Leo finally asked. And he took out a “get out of jail free” card to hand it to Judd.
Despite being furious with them for scaring her, Cleo nearly laughed. Probably not the most mature reaction for someone who should be doling out some punishment right about now.
“Is this how you see yourself taking care of your brothers?” Judd asked—the question was definitely aimed at Beckham, where he’d fixed his cop’s glare.
Beckham was glaring, too, and he was almost as good at it as Judd. “Yeah, because we’re not going with Mrs. Gateman.”
“And you think this is the way to fix that, by hiding in the hayloft?” Judd added.
“It was better than what you were doing, which was nothing,” Beckham snapped.
Cleo wasn’t sure if the boy actually believed that or if it was the anger talking. Maybe both.
With possibly the worst timing in the history of bad timing, Cleo saw the car pull up in front of the main house. Mrs. Gateman, and she wasn’t alone. Cleo guessed that the tall blond man with her was her husband. Hopefully, they’d come just to visit and weren’t going to try to take the boys on the spot.
The muscles in Judd’s jaw went to war with each other when he spotted the Gatemans, and he looked at Cleo as if trying to decide what to do. She wasn’t sure there was a “right” way to go with this, but it was probably best if Beckham didn’t confront the Gatemans right now.
“Why don’t you take Leo and Isaac inside?” Cleo suggested. “Beckham and I can talk.” Though she suspected she’d be the only participant in a chat. Beckham had already gone into his “pissed off at the world” mode, but one way or the other he was going to listen.
“Do we get cookies in jail?” Leo asked Judd.
“You’re not going to jail, but if you tell Mrs. Rosy you’re sorry for scaring her, you might get some from her kitchen.” She hadn’t thought it possible, but Judd’s jaw was battling even more. “Come on.” He scooped up the kitten in one arm, the puppy in the other and motioned for Isaac and Leo to follow him.
“We maybe get to have cookies,” Leo whispered to Isaac, and the boy was obviously no longer concerned about incarceration. Leo skipped his way to the house.
“Go ahead,” Beckham snarled. “Yell at me and tell me how stupid and wrong I was to try to protect my brothers.”
Cleo frowned. Hard to reply with the way Beckham had framed it, but Cleo went with it. “You were stupid and wrong.”
His narrowed gaze whipped up, zooming in on her. Obviously, he hadn’t been prepared to hear the truth. Or the partial truth, anyway. Cleo sighed and went to him.
“You were stupid and wrong, but I understand why you did it,” she amended. “Partly understand, anyway. What exactly were you planning on doing? Staying in the hayloft until you turned eighteen?” But then it hit her. The real plan. “Or staying here until Mrs. Gateman realized the three of you were too much trouble for her to want to foster?”
That didn’t get his eyes unnarrowed, which was just as good as Beckham giving her a resounding yes on her theory. So Cleo continued to fill in the blanks.
“After Lissy dropped you all off at school, you didn’t go inside. Instead, you met somewhere and told Isaac and Leo to go and then you came back here. How’d you manage to get Popsicle and Mango out of the house without Rosy or Buck seeing?”
Beckham lifted his shoulder and dodged her gaze, which meant he wasn’t proud or comfortable with what he’d done. “I sneaked into the house and got them after I had Leo and Isaac up in the hayloft.” He paused. “You didn’t give me a choice about doing this.”
“No. Because I didn’t have a choice,” Cleo snapped. “I’ve got a police record and I own a bar. In the eyes of CPS, that makes me unfit. That means someone without a record and with a more suitable job can swoop in and try to give you and your brothers a good home.”
Beckham kicked at a clump of hay, and since it seemed to ease some of his anger, Cleo tried it, too. Unfortunately, the clump she chose had some horseshit under it, and she ended up kicking that. Her misfortune made Beckham smile, for a nanosecond, anyway, and it made her wonder if she could find more shit to kick. The flicker of a smile was a start to breaking this iceberg between them.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Buck approaching, but the man stopped. Probably because he picked up on the fact that a serious conversation was underway. He gave her a nod and led his horse back toward the corral.
“You were doing an okay job of giving us an all right home here at the ranch,” Beckham mumbled.
That was high praise coming from a disgruntled teenager so she hooked her arm around his neck and yanked him in for a cheek kiss that he obviously didn’t want. But he didn’t fight it, either. In fact, he stayed there, his head pressing against her.
“So, what do I do—just give up?” he asked but didn’t wait for her to answer. “Do I just go with the Gatemans and pretend that my life isn’t effed up?”
Even though her last “Honest Abe” answer hadn’t gone over too well, she went with more truth. “I don’t know. I wish I did have a fix for this, but I don’t. I can talk to the Gatemans and plead your case to stay here. I can remind them that your mother wanted you to be with me. I can cry.” She stopped, looked at him. “You think crying would help?”
His mouth tightened in a scowl but the tough expression didn’t make it to his eyes. There was some softness there now. Some pain. Some hurt. And, yes, even some tears that he was blinking back. Beckham would rather sit on a cactus than cry in front of her.
“So, you’ll talk to them?” Beckham asked, and she could see him trying to man up.
Cleo nodded. “No crying, but there might be begging involved. You think begging will work?”
Beckham didn’t smile, no
t even close, but his muscles loosened just a little. Or rather they did until his attention landed on her neck. “Did Judd give you that love bite?”
Only then did she remember she hadn’t put on that makeup after all. Mainly because she didn’t want to make up a story about hitting her neck on a door, she just nodded.
“Does that mean you two will be getting together?” Beckham persisted.
She didn’t want to make up a story about that, either. “No.”
Cleo hadn’t expected that to upset Beckham, but this time it was anger that flashed through his eyes. “He’d better not hurt you or I’ll kick his ass.”
It took her a moment to gather enough breath to speak, and she had to do her own hard blinking to ward off the tears. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I love you, Beckham.” And because she thought they could both use it, she kissed his cheek again.
Later, though, she’d remind him not to use the word ass. Or effed up.
She stood there several more moments, ones that she was certain she’d remember for the rest of her life. Holding him. Loving him. Wishing that love would go all magical on them and fix everything.
“Are you ready to go in and listen to me beg?” Cleo finally asked him.
Beckham nodded, wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and let her lead him out of the barn and back to the house. Since Cleo wasn’t sure what to expect once they got inside, she gave Beckham’s hand a gentle squeeze and stepped in. They were all there in the living room. The Gatemans, Kace, Rosy, Buck, Judd, Isaac and Leo. Even the puppy and kitten were sprawled out on the floor.
Whatever conversation had been going on came to an abrupt halt, and that was Cleo’s cue to launch into the beg mode. However, Judd spoke before she could even gather her breath.
“The boys were hiding out because they don’t want to go with you,” Judd told the Gatemans. He sank down on the sofa next to Leo. “They want to stay here.”
That earned him some nods and mumbled agreement from all the humans except for the Gatemans. “The children need stability,” Mrs. Gateman said.
“And they can have that here,” Judd went on.
Mr. Gateman shook his head. “They need family.”
“They have that here, too, in Coldwater.” Judd, again. “I’m not talking about being just fostered, either. Even though a lot of that has gone on here, and it’s helped plenty of kids. Including me and my brothers.”
Everything inside Cleo went still, and she walked closer, her attention nailed to Judd. Where was he going with this? Cleo didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“I want the boys to stay,” Judd insisted. “I don’t mean I just want to foster them. I want to adopt them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WHAT HAD COME out of Judd’s mouth hadn’t been a surprise to him, but judging from the reactions of everyone else, they hadn’t had a clue what he’d been about to say. Nine sets of eyes were on him now. Eleven if he counted Popsicle and Mango.
“Adoption?” Mrs. Gateman said.
“Yeah,” Judd confirmed, and he meant it, too. Of course, he hadn’t had a lot of time to come to this decision. Basically, it’d happened in the one-minute walk from the barn to the house, but it felt right.
God, he hoped it was right.
He’d screwed up plenty of things, and he didn’t want to add these kids to any sort of shit list. Still, it wouldn’t be a piece of cake. His alcoholism wasn’t part of any official records, but he’d have to disclose it along with getting statements from Mercy and Kace that he’d stayed sober. If that wasn’t enough, Judd would get recommendations from every cop he’d ever worked with. Buck, too. And anyone else he could think of.
His being single wouldn’t be a plus for him, but in Texas he couldn’t legally be denied adoption based on his marital status. If and when the subject came up, he’d bring in that same hoard of cops, family members and friends to convince whoever needed convincing that he could do this.
He figured it would help that he had a steady job, solid finances and plenty of people who would help him with this. He also figured that he could nip in the bud any future claims on the boys from Lavinia by documenting all the stupid and hateful things she’d done. That would mean getting more statements from the boys and a detailed medical report from Audrey to document the abuse. Judd wouldn’t let anything slip through the cracks that would allow the woman back in the boys’ lives.
“I don’t want the boys moving to another foster home,” Judd went on. “Not even your foster home,” he added to the Gatemans. “I’ll go see a lawyer today and get the paperwork started.”
Judd glanced around the room to see if there were any objections to that, but everyone was still in gobsmacked mode. Everyone but Leo, that is.
“What’s adoption?” Leo asked no one in particular.
“Judd would be our dad,” Isaac explained.
Leo considered that for even less time than Judd had. Five seconds tops. Then he beamed a big old smile, then scrambled to get to his knees and threw his arm around Judd’s neck. “I like that. Can we have a cookie now?”
In the grand scheme of things, that was a pretty darn good response. Judd felt relief. Then warmth. Then love. Of course, Leo was the easiest of this group to convince.
“Well, I think that’s a fine idea,” Rosy said, getting to her feet. “Both the adoption and the cookie. Boys, would you like to come to the kitchen? I’ve got some fresh snickerdoodles.”
Leo bolted off the sofa to follow her. Isaac moved a little slower, but he got up. “I’d like you being my dad, too,” Isaac declared, and Judd got a dose of gobsmacking when Isaac hugged him.
Beckham kept his gaze on his brothers and Rosy until they were out of sight, and then he turned to Judd. “You really mean this?”
Judd nodded, and while he didn’t exactly get a dad endorsement, Beckham didn’t snarl at it. At least he didn’t snarl at Judd, but he did have a steely expression when he snapped toward the Gatemans.
“You’re not going to fight this, are you?” Beckham demanded. “You’re not going to keep sticking your nose in and messing things up for us, are you?” They weren’t exactly questions. Judd had heard threats from hardened criminals that’d sounded friendlier.
The Gatemans looked at each other. Then at Judd and Beckham. What they didn’t do was give a clear answer that they were backing off.
“Judd and the boys could move permanently in here,” Buck suggested. “It’s a big place, and they’re already at home here. I’d already talked this over with Rosy, and we’d agreed that we’d be signing over the ranch to Judd, anyway.”
Judd was sure he blinked, and later he’d tell Buck that wasn’t necessary. Though he did appreciate Buck allowing him to move in, Judd would later give him an out on the offer. An out that Judd was positive that Buck and Rosy wouldn’t accept. No. Because in every way that mattered, Buck was his father, and he would want the same for Judd.
“I’ll still be around to help Judd,” Kace insisted. “My whole family will.”
“I see,” Mrs. Gateman said after a long pause. “This is really what you want?” she asked, her attention sliding from Beckham to Judd. Then to Cleo.
Judd certainly hadn’t forgotten about Cleo, but since she was standing behind the sofa, he couldn’t see her expression. Still, he doubted she’d fight anything that kept the boys here together. Well, she wouldn’t unless she thought it would add more of that pressure on him she’d talked about.
Hell.
He hoped she wouldn’t see it that way.
“It’s what I want,” Judd told her.
Beckham nodded. “Me, too.” Unlike Isaac and Leo, he didn’t hug Judd, but the glare in the boy’s eyes dissolved when he looked at Judd. “Thanks, man,” he mumbled.
That gave Judd another shot of that warmth, followed by mo
re love. It was almost enough to make him forget that he could screw this all up.
“All right.” Mrs. Gateman got to her feet, her husband standing along with her. “You said you’d be starting the paperwork right away?” she added.
“Today,” Judd confirmed.
That seemed to be the right thing to say because the Gatemans gave more nods and headed for the door.
“By the way, you’re grounded for skipping school,” Judd told Beckham.
Beckham’s jaw set, and he looked ready to launch into an automatic protest. One that never materialized. “For how long?” Beckham asked.
“A week.” Judd wished, though, that he’d added more time to that because Beckham seemed far too relieved with the seven-day sentence.
Kace smiled, but he didn’t let Beckham see it. “And speaking of school,” Kace said, “I’ll drive you and your brothers back to school so you can apologize to the principals and pick up the work you missed.”
Good idea, and Judd was glad he hadn’t had to come up with it. That was the nice thing about having backup. He didn’t have to come up with all the good ideas himself.
Kace started rounding up the boys, but Beckham stayed put. “If you hurt Cleo, I’ll kick your...butt,” Beckham whispered to Judd. “Got that?”
Somehow, it was easier to agree to the adoption that would change every aspect of his life than it was to assure Beckham that there’d be no hurting when it came to Cleo. That’s because there very well could be. That whole “Judd, I’m in love with you” was still looming over them like a tornado ready to drop.
Judd waited until Kace had the boys out of the house before he turned to Cleo. She still hadn’t moved, and she was sort of leaning forward as if her feet had been cemented to the floor.
“You don’t have to remind me about the pressure,” Judd said as a preemptive strike. “Or how hard this’ll be. And maybe hold off on telling me that I’ve lost my fucking mind.”
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