This Wandering Heart

by Janine Rosche

  “This isn’t about my financial well-being.”

  “No, it’s about the life you want. Quit pretending that life is a jet-setting, Momentso-posting, never-see-your-family one. I know you.”

  Robbie had half a mind to dive beneath the ripples and not take a breath until he got to Quake Lake. “Weren’t you the one telling me to go after her? I did. I got her back. I’m happy, so lay off.”

  “Yeah, I was. Back when she was traveling to neighboring states and nearby landmarks. But Belgium? Morocco? How is this supposed to work during a custody dispute?”

  “I love her, Ryann. I won’t lose her again.”

  “Why not? She’s made it perfectly clear she’s too wrapped up in her own dreams to consider yours.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What dream do I have?”

  “The one of a quiet life on the river with your family.”

  “Can’t you see? Without her, that dream doesn’t exist.”

  “How are you going to feel if you lose Anabelle because you’re so desperate to keep a hold on Keira?”

  A mayfly danced in front of his face. With a swat, he knocked it to the ground.

  It hit a rock. Its wings fluttered but no longer flew. Instead, it moved about in a panicked circle on the stone surface.

  “That won’t happen,” he said.

  “It might. And if she actually loved you—”

  “You don’t think she loves me?”

  Ryann lifted her chin as if she were looking for words to fall from the mountaintops. “I know she loves you, but she’s trying to love herself, too. That chick Margot—the one she idolizes?—she’s been filming that show for, like, fifteen years or something. Is that what Keira’s hoping for?” Ryann rolled her eyes. “Are you willing to spend that long chasing Miss Wanderfull, or whatever her name is? That won’t be healthy for you or Anabelle.”

  The river roared in Robbie’s ears, louder with each heartbeat. “Since when did you become the expert on healthy relationships?”

  Oof. He stared ahead, feeling about the size of a huckleberry on the far bank. His Sunday dinner threatened to make a reappearance. Any second Ryann would wallop him, pound him with her fists, or throw a stone at his head like when they were kids. And he deserved it. He’d even let her call him dumb if it would right this.

  Yet, she said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood in the periphery of his vision. His words dulled the whole landscape to an ugly sepia tone. Robbie wouldn’t be surprised if their river stopped moving or dried up altogether.

  The memory of Ryann lying in that hospital bed seven years ago assaulted him. She had been bandaged neck to fingertips, with swollen eyes and chapped cheeks from her endless crying. She would have faced off against the devil himself to save her husband. Tyler didn’t give her a chance to.

  Finally, he humbled himself and turned to Ryann.

  Her jaw was hardened. Her glare, a striking emerald color thanks to the flush blazing her face, zeroed in on him. “Take it back.”

  Robbie sucked in a breath and moved toward her.

  She stepped away. “Take it back, Robbie, or I’ll—”

  He pulled her into an embrace.

  Her body was granite, though. Except her lungs, which drew and expelled air frantically.

  “Sis, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to say. I’m a colossal jerk.”

  Thirty seconds must have passed before her breathing slowed and her muscles thawed. When they had, she adjusted until her chin rested on his shoulder. “True.”

  “Will you forgive me?”

  “I guess.”

  He angled back to see her face. “I look up to you, Ryann. You taught me to fight for what I want. For Keira. For Anabelle. And at the end of the day, if I can get this to all work out, I’ll have you and God to thank for it. Come on. Let’s go inside. Mom made those lemon-huckleberry bars we love for dessert.”

  “I call the middle piece. You owe me that. It’s penance.”

  “Deal.” He gave her a playful shove toward the café.

  Inside the windows, Keira was watching him. When she gave a little wave, he returned the gesture. It would all work out. It had to. He drew in one more deep breath of river air, then walked back to the Anabelle-less family dinner and Keira’s side. On the way, he stepped over the stone where the mayfly lay still.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Four days later, Robbie felt only twelve inches tall inside the Gallatin County courtroom. Vivian and her team of black-suited lawyers looked like giants. If this were the movie Space Jam, they’d be the Monstars, and he’d be Porky Pig. At least he had the Michael Jordan of lawyers next to him for this preliminary hearing.

  Cassie, at only five feet six inches, was the fiercest person in the room. And she was on his team. Behind him, in the first row, Keira, Ryann, and his parents sat together with the promise to be in prayer. Thomas had taken off work to babysit Anabelle this morning, so Robbie’s whole family could be there in support.

  “You look like an elk in a wolf den. Lift up your shoulders and loosen up. Nothing will be decided today.” Cassie opened the file with his last name on it. “It’s just a preliminary hearing to see where we go from here. But there’s good news. We don’t have to worry about Judge Rice. The case got reassigned this morning.”

  “To who?”

  “Judge Keller.”

  Robbie gripped the table’s edge. Even that wasn’t enough to steady him as he felt the world shift.

  “What’s wrong?” Cassie asked.

  “Judge Keller and I . . . we have a history.”

  “What kind of history?”

  “A bad one.”

  Cassie’s gaze drilled into him, and her mouth opened before someone stood at the front, and she clamped it shut.

  “Please rise. The Honorable Judge Keller is presiding.”

  He almost felt the oxygen leave the room as his family let out a collective gasp behind him. They knew. A tremor shook Robbie’s shoulders.

  Then a strong hand beneath Robbie’s elbow nudged him upward. He stole a peek behind him to find his father’s reassuring grip.

  “Please be seated.” Judge Keller hadn’t aged since Robbie was in high school. However, his black robe was statelier than the pajamas he’d worn that fateful night. “Good morning. This hearing is for the court to set a schedule for the contested petition for parenting plan for one Anabelle Matthews, age four. Looks like the petition was filed June ninth by Vivian Cartwright. An answer to the petition was filed by . . .” The judge’s eyes stared above the rim of his glasses. “. . . Robert Matthews.”

  Ice chilled Robbie’s veins.

  “Since there is no consent on this case after mediation, it will proceed to a final hearing. Each of you may present evidence and witnesses on that date. You may testify if you want to do so. As your judge, at the end of the hearing, I will decide the matter of custody and the visitation petition involving the child.” He went on to explain more of the specifics for the final hearing in regard to evidence and the questioning of witnesses.

  “Your Honor,” Lex Cartwright, the tallest of Vivian’s lawyers, began, “my client has concerns for the child’s welfare with Mr. Matthews while this matter is pending.”

  The weight of the accusation bore down on Robbie’s shoulders.

  Behind him, a noise banged against the bench. Probably Ryann’s fist, if he had to guess.

  “Is it your belief that the child is in immediate danger?”

  “Not immediate, no. My client is concerned that the child will be traveling out of state with Mr. Matthews. There are no guarantees they will return.”

  Cassie stood. “Your Honor, the travel is required for Mr. Matthews’s job.” She described the nature of the television show and its upcoming travel schedule. When Vivian’s lawyer tried to interrupt, Cassie effect
ively shut him down with a reminder that it was Robbie who had parented the girl after her mother abandoned the child, and he had a history of looking out for Anabelle’s best interest. She went on to explain Robbie’s dedication to providing for his daughter’s current and future well-being.

  The judge tapped the side of his thumb on the desk. “I’ll allow the travel during the interim, but I would like for Mr. Matthews to submit those travel plans to the court.”

  “My client also has concern over the condition of the Matthewses’ family property, as well as its proximity to the Madison River.”

  “Mr. Matthews, does your family still own River’s Edge?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can your daughter swim?”

  “Very well for her age.”

  He looked over the rim of his glasses. “And I trust she understands the dangers of the river?”

  “She does.”

  “The court orders a child custody evaluation to be performed on both Robert Matthews and Vivian Cartwright prior to the next hearing, which will be scheduled on October eighth of this year.”

  Not so bad. Traveling Light’s filming was set to wrap up right around that time.

  “Court is adjourned.” Judge Keller pushed back his chair and stood. “And Mr. Matthews, I suggest avoiding brickyards in the interim.”

  * * *

  * * *

  So what? A social worker comes to your home, and you schmooze her a bit. She’ll see you’re a nice guy and a capable father.” Cassie crossed her arms. “My concern is the history you have with Keller. Spill it.”

  In the hallway of the courthouse, the plastered wall cooled Robbie’s back. He thunked his head against it and closed his eyes. “I was eighteen. My girlfriend, Keira, was living in an abusive home. Mostly verbal stuff, but occasionally her father would beat her and her mother up. The thing is . . . her father is Joshua Knudsen.”

  “Oy.”

  “Right. I was trying to get her out of there. But every time I tried, he was there with the so-called law on his side. My parents helped me file a complaint against her father. Judge Keller threw it out, claiming there wasn’t enough hard evidence of abuse.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  Robbie coughed. “Then I went to his home and threw a brick through his front window.”

  “Oh, Robbie.” Cassie rubbed her dark brow. “He obviously knew it was you. How were you caught?”

  “I wasn’t caught. I went up his steps and sat on his porch swing. His dog was barking. His daughter was crying. Of course, his wife was going nuts. I just sat there and waited. Finally, he came out in his flannel pajamas.

  “I told him that Knudsen would kill Keira one day if he didn’t act. I told him about her bruises and the way she flinched at loud noises. I explained how her food was monitored and withheld based on her behavior. I told him about how after she’d snuck out to see my big game, he’d hurt her so badly that no one saw her for eight days.”

  “What’d Judge Keller do?”

  “Nothing.” Robbie scraped his fingers through his hair, which had already fallen back onto his forehead despite his attempts to gel it in place. “I sat there on his swing, sobbing like a kid, and he did absolutely nothing. The police showed up, arrested me, took me to jail.”

  “Why didn’t I know this?” Cassie’s voice took on a shrill quality.

  “Because Keller dropped the charges. I paid for the replacement window. Actually, installed it myself, with my dad’s help. I probably should’ve thanked him. If the charges hadn’t been dropped, I would’ve lost my football scholarship. Call it grace or whatever. Of course, I didn’t see it. Keira still had to live in that home for another month.”

  “And then?”

  “Keira’s father had a change of heart.” Robbie sneered. If the man had a heart at all. “He allowed Keira to leave home on her eighteenth birthday, about a month before graduation. She came and lived with my family instead.”

  Down the hall, his parents and sister still welcomed Keira as one of their own. They formed a half circle, waiting for him to finish speaking to Cassie.

  Cassie adjusted the briefcase’s strap on her shoulder. “I’ll see about getting a new presiding judge. But it’s unlikely. Let’s hope he’s still got some grace left for you. Do me a favor. Lie low and don’t get yourself into any trouble. Got it?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  You ready for this?” Robbie asked Keira. His eyes studied her face.

  “I have to be.” She opened the door of his truck and stepped onto the pavement in front of her family’s property. After her last visit, she wouldn’t be surprised if her father had rigged the street with IEDs or something.

  Papa pulled his Lincoln within a few yards of the truck’s bumper. If she was a bundle of nerves, then he and Nana were a freight load of them. That morning, while Keira and Robbie loaded up the U-Haul with her belongings, they’d been eerily quiet.

  Keira held hands with her grandparents as they walked down the driveway.

  Her father’s sedan was nowhere to be seen. As long as Keira could remember, he’d spent the Fourth of July at an annual charity golf tournament up in Bozeman. Ironic that the money went to supporting victims of domestic violence.

  The four of them climbed the porch steps. Nana was looking even more frail than she had upon discovering she had a granddaughter. Keira and Papa flanked her, watching for any sign of a stumble or faint.

  Robbie signaled for them to stand back, while he stepped toward the door. “Just in case.” He pressed the doorbell.

  Inside the house, the Westminster chimes echoed. No one answered.

  “Where could she be? She never leaves the house.” Panic chilled Keira’s flesh. What if she was hurt? What if she couldn’t come to the door?

  The doorbell chimed once more.

  Nothing.

  Except for the faint sound of a squeaky faucet.

  Keira caught Robbie’s eye. “The garden.”

  The group descended the steps and plodded around the side of the house. In the middle of the garden, Keira’s mother held the sprayer over a rosebush. She seemed thinner. And paler, despite the July sun.

  “Claire,” Papa said on a breath.

  Nana whimpered, leaning against Robbie.

  Her mother angled her face toward the sound. At the sight of them, she dropped the garden hose, leaving the water to spray across the paving stones. She ran to them. Her mother ran, then embraced Nana.

  Together, they dropped onto the ground, Robbie cushioning their fall. Papa joined them on the ground. Keira couldn’t help but laugh. If only Anabelle were here, then all the people she loved would be in this heap of arms, legs, and tears. Funny. After all the beautiful places she’d seen as Kat Wanderfull, this was the moment she wanted to capture the most.

  “What are you doing here?” her mother asked.

  Nana sniffled. “Keira found us in Twin Falls three weeks ago. We spent a few days with her. You’ve raised a wonderful daughter, Claire. We love her.”

  “So do we. She has Joshua’s courage—”

  “Mama,” Keira cut in. She threaded her fingers through her mother’s hair, blond with only the slightest of gray roots. Soon, Father would make her color them. That is if their plan didn’t work. “About Father. He’s not a good man.”

  Behind her, a throat cleared. “Now, now. Is that any way to speak about the man who raised you?” Her father’s voice could melt obsidian back into lava.

  Fear choked her.

  “You kept Claire and Keira from us far too long, Joshua.” Papa stood tall and unafraid as he faced her father.

  “You were the ones who cut off the relationship with her. I was the one who took care of her when you tossed her out.”

  “Not true, Claire. We never wanted you to leave. We tried. Over and over again
, we tried to see you, but he didn’t let us. We’ve always loved you,” Papa said.

  Nana stroked her daughter’s face. “And we’re worried about you.”

  “Perhaps you should worry about this granddaughter of yours, with her manipulations and schemes. My Little Mouse has been good-for-nothing since the day she was born. I should’ve set a trap when I had the chance.”

  Robbie was in his face then. Her father had two inches on Robbie, but there weren’t many men in town that could match Robbie in strength. Certainly not her father. “You have no right to speak about her like that,” he growled. “You weren’t a father to her. All you are is a fist. From this point on, if you want to take a shot at Keira, you’ll have to get through me.”

  “You talk a lot for a kid with so much to lose. But then again, you never were a smart one.” Father’s voice remained steady. Calculated. Baiting. “You and your family are a stain on this town. And not one that can easily be bleached. No, I think one day someone will have to cut the stain out entirely. This community would be better off with nary a Matthews in sight.”

  The image of Anabelle flitted through Keira’s head. She jumped to her feet, pressing herself in the narrow space between the two men, facing Robbie. She nudged him back, shooting him a warning glance. Her father had an impressive ability to make good on threats.

  “Come away with us, Claire. There’s no pain in our home. Only peace,” Papa said.

  Everyone was standing now. Her mother, with her arms crossed over her chest, trembled.

  Father moved to the back door of the house only five yards away from them. “Claire, inside now. As for the rest of you, I want you off my property immediately. I’m calling the police.”

  “No need.” Officer Drew, in uniform, rounded the side of the house. He approached casually with his hands on his belt, inches from his gun. “Robbie thought there might be trouble. Time for you all to leave.” He placed himself between her father and the rest of them.

  Nana held out her hand. “Let’s go home, Clairey.”

  Keira’s mother stayed still.