“The O’Laughlin house on the apple farm.” He watched her eyes widen as she realized what he meant. “The kids and I stayed there while the press was hounding me. It’s a great old place but it does have a couple of drawbacks. It’ll be swamped with people on weekends until the weather turns, and that means the kids can’t just play outside because there’s too much traffic in and around the orchard for the next month. But once that’s done, it’s calm and peaceful and clean. And safe, Christa.”
“I’m not sure how a house could be rented out that affordably.” Doubt furrowed her brow.
“Did I mention it’s furnished?”
He hadn’t thought her expression could get more surprised and hopeful. He was wrong.
“What’s the catch, Tug?”
He shook his head. “No catch. Jax’s family is wealthy. They’re keeping the O’Laughlin orchard as a throwback experience for families and schools to visit because it was Libby’s childhood home. They don’t need a lot of rent money, and they only rent it out to help others. You can have it as long as you need and/or want. Including utilities.”
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. Her very pretty mouth, he realized. Of course, there wasn’t a thing about this woman that he didn’t find attractive. Not just attractive, his brain chimed in. Gorgeous.
He waited for her reply.
“That’s impossible.”
He made a face that said it wasn’t.
“Tug, are you subsidizing this? Because I can’t let you do that. I am determined to pay my own way,” she insisted. “It’s how my mother raised me, and it’s the right thing to do.”
“No, ma’am, although that thought did come to mind,” he admitted. “It’s like I said. Jax and Libby don’t need the money per se, and they wouldn’t just rent it out to rent it, but when folks need help, it’s available.”
“And quaint and lovely.”
He grinned. “It’s quaint, all right. I prefer bigger rooms myself. More open. But the little guys won’t care about that, and the O’Laughlin family took care of it, even during hard times. Shall I tell them yes? And if so, when do you want to move in? Before apple season ends? Or after?”
She hesitated, then set her pen down. “Before. I think it will be fun to see folks coming and going, and a good lesson for Jeremy. Speaking of the boys...” She picked up the pen again and started tapping it against the desktop. “Jubilee is about to stop by and she didn’t sound happy. She warned me that it wasn’t good news.”
“Worse than we’ve had so far?” He wasn’t sure how it could get worse for those boys, but he found out quickly when Jubilee came into the room a moment later.
“Tug, I’m glad you’re here, too.”
She looked tired and Jubilee Samson never looked tired. In all his years of knowing her, the heavyset social worker was a bundle of activity and warmth. If he were the one doing the rankings, Jubilee would get the county’s highest honors, because she put the kids first, even when legalities tried to thwart her. Somehow the middle-aged African American woman maneuvered her way around a convoluted system and had scores of successful adults to her credit, people whose lives she’d touched over the years.
But today she looked worn. She pulled up a chair like the one Tug had grabbed and sat down heavily. Then she quietly opened a folder and passed it to Tug and Christa.
He moved his chair closer to Christa’s so they could read the papers together. He breathed in the scent of her. She smelled of chalk dust and crayons and some kind of vanilla mix. Cinnamon, maybe.
And when tears began slipping down Christa’s pretty cheeks, he did what he’d been wanting to do for weeks. He reached out, drew her in and held her. Letting her cry...
And letting her know she didn’t have to cry alone.
He indicated the slim folder with a glance down at the photo of a thirtysomething man with dark blond hair and blue eyes. “When did this man contact you, Jubilee? This Danny Adams fellow?”
Jubilee sighed. “He didn’t. We had to do a thorough check into the boys’ backgrounds and parentage, and while there was nothing listed on their birth certificates, at some point last week this man petitioned the courts to have him named as the father to Jonah.”
“Not Jeremy?”
She blinked once, long and slow. “Jonah only.”
“He wants to split these boys up? These brothers?” Christa’s tears had stopped, but only because they’d been replaced by anger. “Who in their right mind would think that’s all right?”
“Is this a done deal, Jubilee?” Tug gripped the folder, wishing he could trash it. Burn it. Destroy it. Better to destroy a rancid trail of paperwork than children’s lives.
“No. First it must be established, and the courts must approve it, and then he has to prove he has a place for Jonah.”
“How do I fight this?” Christa straightened up and squared her shoulders. “There must be some way to prevent this from happening. Isn’t there?”
Jubilee swallowed hard. “If he establishes paternity, I don’t think you can, sweetie. He has rights as a father.”
“Except he’s never been present in Jonah’s life. How does that equate to rights, Jubilee?”
Jubilee splayed her hands. “Your aunt had problems. We know that. Did he even know she was pregnant? Did he even know he had a child? We won’t know what actually happened for a little while. There’s always a backlog of cases, and now is no exception. For the moment, the boys stay with you. But if the judge confirms his paternity, then we’ve got a different story being written.”
Christa’s expression embodied hopelessness. A hopelessness he couldn’t abide, no matter what the law said. “We’ll fight it, Jubilee.”
The older woman winced. “I know this is hard to accept. Separating the boys, allowing the father to have his son, breaking up the family unit once again...”
“Not hard,” Tug replied firmly. “Impossible. Those boys have had enough to deal with in their short lives. And now, with new hope on the horizon, with a woman who loves them and is willing to sacrifice for them, all of a sudden some guy appears out of the woodwork and wants to take one of the boys. He’s brushing off their psychological well-being because he wasn’t the biological father of the first one.”
Anger didn’t just creep up his spine. It raged forward because he’d seen too much of this over the years. “This can’t happen. It can’t and it won’t, because there’s no way those boys should be split up. They’re brothers. They’ve been brothers from the beginning and they can’t be separated. Any judge worth his salt would agree.”
“And probably would agree if the boys’ mother were alive.” She folded her hands in her lap. “But she’s not. And that means the boys’ parentage and familial rights become the question. Yes, you can fight it.” She stood and faced them both. “But our laws rarely fall on the rights of children over parents and it’s a long and costly process. He will most likely qualify for a free attorney. You would have to be willing to spend a whole lot of money to fight something you stand a good chance of losing. Think about it, please. And pray on it.
“I’m not saying any of this is right,” she continued. The anxiety in her voice confirmed her empathy. “But I know the laws and the system, and in this case, the system might win. Unless there is some reason why this man should not have access to this child if paternity is confirmed.”
Tug wanted to swear.
He couldn’t, because as angry as he was, he needed to be strong for Christa. For those boys. Those precious boys he’d rescued from danger, and now here they were, thrust into yet another untenable situation through no fault of their own. “How soon will we know?”
“Not for weeks. Maybe even longer. Like I said, there’s a long backlog of cases and it takes time to give everyone their day in court. I’m sorry, Christa. This wasn’t something anyone on our staff anticipated.”
Jubilee shook her head. “Not yet, but soon. He doesn’t need us on board to be declared the father. However, he will need to meet with me and be checked out before custody is considered.”
“So he could be declared the father but not get custody?”
Jubilee hesitated. She exchanged a troubled look with Tug. “It’s rare, Christa. The laws are firm in keeping families together unless there’s a concrete reason why ties should be severed or custody denied.”
“I see.”
But Tug didn’t see. He didn’t see it at all. He knew the truth of it because he’d seen kids kept in dicey situations for far too long in his time on the force. And yet he wasn’t blind to problems within the foster-care system, either.
Jubilee left quietly.
He turned to Christa.
She was staring down at the paper she’d been working on. She didn’t write any more. She didn’t pretend to be able to focus on number charts.
Then she stood. Slung her bag over her shoulder. She faced him. “Did you mean it?”
He didn’t have to ask what. “That we’ll fight? Yes, I did.”
“I have no money to do this, Tug.”
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. I’m not angry about this guy wanting to be a father to his child.”
She drew a breath and waited.
“I’m a firm believer in father’s rights. But how did this guy suddenly realize that he had a kid? Your aunt is gone. Did he know it before she died and did nothing? Because there’s been no link in the news between the two boys rescued from that house on Old Orchard Road and your aunt’s death before that. So how did this man put it together? Was there an information leak? Idle chatter? And I doubt that part very much, because he doesn’t look like the kind of guy my colleagues would engage in casual conversation. With the three principal players gone, how did he glean this information?”
“Gossip knows no limits, Tug. You know that.”
She was right, but something didn’t sit right with Tug. Later, he’d dig deeper to figure out what it was. For right now, he’d focus on getting a plan in motion to help Christa and the boys through this latest entanglement. “First things first, we’re going to find out what kind of a man we’re dealing with.”
“I grew up in a tough, tough setting. I’m pretty sure I know exactly the kind of man we’re dealing with,” she replied softly. “But the real question is, why does he want Jonah? What’s in it for him? Because why else would you come forward now, if he knew it all along? Although maybe Marta’s death spurred him to want to be a better person. Jonah’s father.”
“At the expense of Jeremy.” Tug didn’t pretend to be convinced. “Wouldn’t a change of heart like that make a person sympathetic to both children? I’m glad I was here when Jubilee came over, but let’s put this aside for a moment and go back to the house.”
“The house.” She’d grabbed her book sack and slung it over her shoulder. “Is it stupid to do that now, Tug? If this is all up in the air? What if someone shows up for Jeremy, too?”
He couldn’t imagine that, but he wouldn’t have thought this current scenario was possible an hour ago, and here they were. “Let’s plan for now. The rest will take care of itself. It always does.”
It didn’t.
He knew that. He was pretty sure that she did, too. Not everything worked out, but this guy better have a record shinier than a newly minted penny because if he was tarnished at all, Tug was determined to find out.
* * *
“I get my own room?” Jeremy stared around the comfortable old O’Laughlin house a few days later, then dashed up the stairs. “Like up here?”
“Either one,” Christa told him while Tug brought in more boxes. “You’re the oldest. You get first pick.”
Tug set the boxes down in the living room. “Toys from my mother, some that the boys loved, others that came to her from neighbors.”
The generosity of this small town had blessed her multiple times. Tug’s arrangement for this cute old house and the affordable price kept her right where she wanted to be, in Golden Grove. “That’s so nice, Tug.”
He came back with boxes of clothing, marked with each boy’s name. He took those upstairs while Vangie arranged toys on what had been a bookshelf in the small living room.
Darla texted her as Christa started putting away groceries in the kitchen.
Jonah woke up. I’m feeding him now. I know you’ve got a busy night tomorrow so just relax and do what you can tonight.
Christa texted back Thank you!
Darla was amazing. She was the kind of woman who planned ahead, then worked her plan. Tomorrow was Christa’s first open house at Golden Grove Elementary and she wanted the classroom to sparkle and the students’ work to do the same. Not perfect, of course.
She’d learned better than that as a long-term sub near Seattle. There was no such thing as perfect in the classroom, and most parents understood that. She was pretty sure she became a better teacher all around when she’d finally figured it out for herself.
She put the last bag of groceries in the fridge, then dashed up the stairs to check on Jeremy. He met her at the top, a wrinkle of worry deepening the line between his eyes. “I think I don’t really want my own room, okay?”
That was a big change from his earlier excitement. “Okay, but why?”
“Jonah never was all alone in his whole life.” He emphasized his little brother’s timing deliberately. “He’s little. He might get scared, okay?”
His urge to protect Jonah dredged up her fears. How would Jeremy handle it if his brother were taken away? His sensitive nature was already scoring off-the-charts with all that had happened. Surely this couldn’t be part of God’s plan. Could it?
She bent down and gave him a hug. “It is absolutely okay,” she promised him. “If you guys want to share a room, I am completely fine with that.”
He exhaled in relief. “That’s how brothers are,” he explained as he went down the stairs to see what Vangie was doing. “They just like being together. That’s all.”
Her chest went tight.
Tug sent her a look of sympathy as he moved her way. “That’s a gut grabber for you.”
“It is.” She could admit it to him and to his parents. They knew what was going on and they understood. “Hoping to keep Jonah might be selfish because if I was his mother or father, I wouldn’t want someone else raising him. And yet that’s my prayer, every day. It feels right and wrong, and I’m not sure how to justify that.”
“If you were the parent in question, you wouldn’t have ignored his existence for nearly three years,” Tug offered reasonably.
“But if he didn’t know about him, that’s a game changer.”
“It could be.” Tug moved a step closer. It wasn’t much, but it meant everything to her. Everything about Tug made her feel safer. Bolder. Braver. She’d been alone long enough to appreciate all three empowering emotions.
“Or there might be a reason he didn’t know,” Tug went on. “Renzo will let us know what he finds out. If there’s information in the public record, we’ll find it. In the meantime, we’ll let the system grind its wheels slowly and pretend everything is all right. Because it could be.”
His strength bolstered her. His faith inspired her. But she knew the score. She understood that battle lines had been drawn. And while she hated to think about a parent losing a fight for their child, instinct told her that Jonah and Jeremy were right where they should be. With her. Now if only the courts would come to the same conclusion.
Chapter Eleven
Danny Adams had spent most of his life not being what anyone would call a choirboy, but he’d cleaned up his act five years ago, go
tten a job with a computer repair tech firm and had been a model citizen ever since.
That meant the judge would hand the boy over to him once paternity was established.
Tug knew it the minute he read the full report.
He felt it to the core of his being, and the part of him that championed a person’s right to their child should have been celebrating this discovery.
He couldn’t, of course.
He knew that Jonah would be devastated to be taken away from his Jemmie. Jeremy would be crushed to have another loved one disappear from his life. And Christa would feel the loss keenly. She’d be right in the middle of her own loss, her aunt and Jonah, and Jeremy’s grief. And how would they even know what was happening with Jonah? Would the judge require Danny to allow her visitation rights? Or at least keep her informed?
Probably not, and that would break her heart. It was breaking his heart, and the boys weren’t even related to him.
That didn’t matter, though. He’d saved them from injury and who knows what else at the hands of a crazed man, and that rescue came with a mantle of protection. His protection. But it was a moot cause with the information in his hand.
“You have to tell her.” Renzo came up alongside him, saw the report and sighed. “I don’t envy you, man. Those kids already love her. And they love you. When I saw you all come trooping back from the apple farm, you looked happy, man, and you haven’t been that happy in a long, long time.”
“I’m happy enough.”
Renzo snorted. “Tell it to the mirror. I know what I see. She makes you happy but you’re still carrying a truckload of guilt over Hadley. If Hadley were here, she’d smack you upside the head. You know it. And I know it. And then she’d tell you to stop wasting time because there’s plenty of life left to live.”
Renzo was right, but one very important fact stood out. “Except she’s not here.”
Renzo ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “If you were talking to a victim of a crime or anyone suffering a loss, you’d remind them that life is full of left turns and unexpected moments. You’d remind them that God’s timing isn’t ours. But you don’t seem to be able to apply the same logic to yourself.”
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