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A Family for Tyler
A Family for Tyler

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A Family for Tyler

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“I’m glad.” She smiled at Rose. “And I appreciate everything you all do for her, really I do.” She gathered her purse and headed to the door.

“She talks a lot about you, you know.”

That stopped Emily. She slowly turned back to look at the aide.

“When I help her get ready for bed, we talk.” Rose stepped close. “She’s so proud of you. She talks about you and your horse, Sugar. She told me how hard you worked to get into law school.”

“She remembers all that?”

“Yeah.” Rose took a deep breath. “The best part of this job is that I get to see that. She’s still in there, she just doesn’t show up often. Usually at night, after the sun sets, she’s more...” Rose seemed to struggle with the words. “More aware? I don’t know how to describe it. But she seems to wake up, just for a little bit.”

Emily was surprised. “I wish—”

Rose interrupted her. “Don’t do that. Just accept her for who she’s been and who she is. She’s a very sweet lady.”

Emily nodded, fighting the tears that were tight in her throat. “I know. You should have known her when I was a kid.” She laughed as a myriad of images flashed through her mind. Happy times, not the painful memories from after Dad’s death, or when Earl had entered their lives. She recalled sitting on the couch reading storybooks, putting together puzzles and watching soap operas on school holidays.

“You keep those memories.” Rose patted her arm. “I think she’d like you to.”

Emily watched Rose leave the room and head to the dining room. She’d needed that today. Needed to be reminded that she was still important to someone. She didn’t even cringe when she went past the dining room and saw her mother struggling to read the bingo cards. Emily just smiled, waved at Hal, at Rose and the other dozen people seated at the square dining room tables.

The sun was low in the afternoon sky as she reached her car, though the heat hadn’t lessened any. The door handle was still hot and she cursed as she gingerly opened it. She dreaded getting inside the scorching car.

She was just a block away when her cell phone rang. She pulled to the side of the road to dig it out of her purse. She’d never paid attention to the thing before, but now, with Mom where she was, she tried to keep it handy. It would help if she had a smaller purse. Her heart pounding, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the number was her office. She glanced at the clock. What was Dianne still doing at work?

“Hello?”

“Emily? It’s Dianne. Are you coming back to the office?”

“I’d planned to. Why?”

“I, um... There’s a man here.” Dianne’s voice lowered. “He says his name is Drew Walker? He says he knows you?”

Emily’s heart sank. Drew? She hadn’t seen her stepbrother in five years, and then only for a few hours—which was fine with her. What did he want? “I’m on my way. Is he willing to wait—” she glanced at her watch “—fifteen minutes?” She heard Dianne ask someone the same question.

“Yeah, he’ll wait. See you soon.” Dianne hung up.

Emily sat there for a long minute. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to shift gears. She was no longer the heartbroken daughter. Now she was back in legal mode. Much better. Much easier.

* * *

WYATT WATCHED AS Addie stared down at the little boy lying in the huge double bed. He could almost hear her thoughts, he knew his sister so well. They’d been together all but a few years of their lives, the first two before she was born and then the four years she’d been away at college. They were close, and he realized he should let Tyler go live with her. She’d make a great mom.

He turned his focus to the sleeping boy. It was eerie, really. He looked so much like DJ. Wyatt swallowed. The worry about DJ that had taken up residence since he’d gone overseas leaped into his throat.

“I want to reach out and hug him,” Addie whispered. “It’s almost like I’d be holding DJ. I wish I knew where he was.” No one in the family had heard from him in nearly three months. This wasn’t the first time since he’d joined the military that he’d essentially disappeared off the face of the earth. No news was good news, Wyatt kept telling himself.

“I’m not sure we really want to know.” Wyatt turned away from the door and headed to the kitchen. There was no escaping the nightly news or the daily headlines. Wyatt had a pretty good idea that whatever DJ was doing would scare the hell out of Addie.

Grief and worry shone in her eyes and she stepped away from the door, leaving it ajar.

“What if he never gets to see Tyler?” She followed Wyatt to the kitchen.

Wyatt poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair he’d brought from Mom’s house after the funeral. Dad had sat like this, at the head of the table, hundreds of times when they were kids. Now Wyatt took that spot. It felt right. Maybe some of Dad’s wisdom would seep out of the worn wood.

“We’ll cross that bridge when, and if, we get to it.” He took a sip of his coffee.

Addie headed to the stove. “How can you drink that stuff this late and not bounce off the walls until dawn?” She made herself a cup of the chamomile tea he kept at the ranch especially for her before sitting down to face him. “Have you learned anything about the mother? How could anyone just abandon him? He’s such a sweet kid.”

Wyatt laughed. “You’ve only been here a few hours. Give him a chance. He’s a boy, remember? And he’s DJ’s son.” Amazingly, Mom hadn’t died of a heart attack from some of DJ’s antics.

“The letter didn’t say much. No one seems to know a thing about his mother except Tyler, and he isn’t saying much. I’m not pushing him.”

“Where’s the letter?” Addie asked.

“The judge has it. I’ve hired a private detective to look for his mother, but he hasn’t come up with anything.”

“I’m still confused as to how she found you.”

He sighed. Might as well get the tongue-lashing over with.

“She didn’t. She sent the letter, registered, to Mom’s place. As executor, all the mail’s being forwarded to me, so it came here.”

“Gotcha.” Addie sipped her tea thoughtfully. He was surprised when she didn’t say more, like “Why didn’t you call me?” or “Don’t you think I should take care of him?” The thought of Addie taking Tyler home with her twisted something inside him. Wyatt didn’t like admitting it, but he was getting attached to the kid.

“So tell me about this judge.” Addie interrupted his thoughts.

“What’s there to tell?”

“What’s she like? I need a little preparation. She’s going to be here tomorrow to scrutinize everything about us, about this place. We have to be ready.”

“I know that.” He set his cup down and stared at it for a long minute. “She’s younger than I expected. I pictured some crotchety old goat of a judge, like half the other judges in the county. But she’s probably our age. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Smart. She listened to everything Tyler had to say. She’s got a way with kids.”

Silence permeated the room. And then Addie laughed. “What?” Wyatt frowned at her.

“You’re attracted to her.”

“I— What are you talking about?” Wyatt felt the heat rise up his neck. “You asked what she’s like,” he accused.

“I asked about her as a judge. You just described her as a woman.”

“I—” This time he didn’t even bother to deny or say anything. What was the use? It’d be a lie. He was attracted to her. Damn it.

“Oh, this is good.” Addie leaned back, obviously enjoying the moment. Her grin widened.

“Stop it, Addie. This is serious.”

“Oh, I’m definitely serious. You know, big brother—” She’d always loved reminding him of that relationship at times like this. “You could make this work. Is she attracted to you?”

“Addie!”

“What? I’m only looking at the realities. Come on, Wyatt. You’re single. Good-looking. Available. Wine and dine her, for God’s sake. Win her over.”

“I can’t believe my sister actually paid me a compliment.” He turned away and shook his head, but not before he felt a flash of guilt. He’d already thought about and discarded the idea Addie was suggesting.

The silence grew long before Addie spoke again, and her words came out soft. “What if she comes back?” Addie sat quietly sipping her tea, not meeting Wyatt’s eyes.

“Who?” he asked, knowing full well who Addie meant. “The judge?”

“Don’t be obtuse.” Addie suddenly shot to her feet and moved to the fridge. She opened the door and stared inside.

“What are you looking for?” They’d just finished dinner. Addie wasn’t hungry. She was anxious despite the usually relaxing tea. Wyatt sat for a moment watching her.

“Nothing.” She closed the door and sat back down, only to squirm in her chair.

Something about all this was bugging Addie, something more than the judge’s impending visit. Something about Tyler had set Addie on edge, had turned his normally calm and together sister into someone he barely recognized. “You gonna tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I—” Finally, she looked up. Wyatt was shocked to see a flash of deep pain run through her eyes. “What if DJ doesn’t make it home?”

“Is that what all this fidgeting is about? Don’t think about that. He’ll come home safe.” Even Wyatt doubted his own words.

Addie curled her fingers around the mug, not lifting it to her lips, just staring into the cooling contents. “His mother could come back at any time and take him.”

“Yes, she could,” Wyatt admitted, reaching across the table to cover Addie’s hand with his. “But legally, she can’t. She abandoned him, and the judge wants this custody to be permanent. I agree.”

She sighed, breathing deeply, before looking at him again. That look struck a note inside Wyatt. This was his family, and while Tammie Easton had given birth to DJ’s child, he didn’t see where she had any place here. She’d given up that right.

The protective instinct that was so ingrained in Wyatt surged to the surface. “She shows up here and she’ll have one hell of a fight on her hands.” He spoke the words loud and strong, ignoring the doubt they covered.

He could fight her, legally, but what would that do to Tyler? What would DJ do? He’d obviously felt something for the woman at some point. What would he feel once he learned she’d kept his son a secret for eight years?

With a curse, Wyatt rose to his feet and dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

He shoved the screen door open, letting it slap shut behind him. The night engulfed him within only a few feet, but he didn’t have to see where he was going. He knew the path to the barn well.

His eyes easily adjusted, and he soon could make out the forms of the barn, the stable, the corral, the garage. Movement caught his eye and a sense of relief washed over him. His feet made their own way to the corral fence. Prism waited for him. The beautiful white horse shook its big shaggy head, greeting Wyatt as it always did. A friend saying hello.

“I should’ve brought you a treat, huh, boy?” Wyatt whispered and rubbed the smooth brow. Long minutes passed. The horse’s breathing, the distant croaks of the frogs down at the pond, the faint whisper of something—probably a rabbit in the grasses—soothed him. He closed his eyes and took it all in, letting home comfort him.

Addie’s question haunted him. What if Tyler’s mom did come back? What would he do?

“You up for a ride, boy?” He patted Prism’s neck and the horse seemed to nod his agreement. “Come on.” Wyatt opened the gate and just as he had dozens of times before, he climbed up on the horse’s bare back, hanging on to the thick mane. “Let’s go.”

This was no orderly canter; they both knew this. Prism knew him. Prism understood. And Prism ran. As if the troubles of the world were on his tail. Just as Wyatt wanted and needed.

* * *

FROM HIS PERCH on the dresser by the windowsill, where he’d climbed after Aunt Addie and Uncle Wyatt had gone to the kitchen, Tyler stared out across the yard at the starry sky. He’d waited until they’d walked down the hall to open his eyes. Playing possum, as Mama called it, had let him learn lots of things grown-ups didn’t tell him.

He could still hear Uncle Wyatt talking. Aunt Addie seemed nice enough, but her questions worried him. Especially the ones about Mama.

Tyler liked Wyatt. Liked him a lot. For an instant, his view wavered, and he rubbed the heel of his hand against his right eye, then his left.

He refused to cry. Big boys didn’t cry, Mama had always said. Then she would describe how Tyler’s dad was big and tough and strong. He was a soldier, and Tyler didn’t think soldiers ever cried.

Was his dad like Wyatt? Tyler wondered. They were brothers. Tyler wondered what it would be like to have a brother. He thought he might like it. Sisters, he wasn’t so sure about. Sometimes, he thought, he’d just like to have someone around when he was lonely.

He hadn’t felt lonely since Uncle Wyatt had come and gotten him, though. But the lady judge scared him. He didn’t want to be alone again. He’d tried really hard to make her understand that he wanted to stay with Uncle Wyatt, that he wanted to get to know his dad when he got home. And that Mama wasn’t bad; she just had stuff to take care of.

That word, abandoned, didn’t sound good. Uncle Wyatt’s frown had told Tyler he agreed with the lady judge. But Mama hadn’t left him forever. No, his heart cried. She’d be back. He knew she’d come back. She’d promised him.

But would she even know where he was? Panic made him hiccup and his eyes watered again. Aunt Addie had asked Uncle Wyatt about Mama’s letter and he’d said it had been delivered someplace else. Was that where Mama would go to get him? But he wasn’t there—what if she couldn’t find him?

Tyler scrambled off the ledge and reached for his jeans. In the right front pocket he pulled out the one thing he hadn’t shown anyone.

Mama had called it a locket. She had shown him how to open it, but he couldn’t remember how she’d done it. Instead, he curled his small fist around the locket and its chain before stuffing it back into his pocket.

When she’d given it to him, she’d promised she’d come back for it and for him as soon as she could.

He believed her.

He had to.

She was Mama.

His eyes burned and he curled his arms around his knees and rested his face on the patches of his jeans.

She’d be back.

She would.

Wouldn’t she?

CHAPTER FIVE

“I DIDN’T GO to kin-de-garden.” Tyler answered Wyatt’s question without turning from the video game on the television screen.

Exasperated, Wyatt sat at the kitchen table, trying to fill out the school paperwork. Since Tyler wasn’t his kid, and without any records to guide him, the forms weren’t easy. Luckily, Tyler’s mother had managed to pack his shot records or they’d be in a whole different mess.

“What do you mean you didn’t go to kindergarten? I thought you had to?” Why was he asking an eight-year-old about this? He hadn’t a clue. Too much time in said eight-year-old’s company, he guessed.

“That’s rule stuff. Maybe you could ask that lady judge ’bout it.”

“I don’t think so.” Lady judge. An image of Emily Ivers flashed through Wyatt’s mind. Those long black robes and that tiny pink collar peeking out...

“I went to Walt Whitman Elementary for part of first grade then some other place till the end of the year.” Three more monsters disintegrated before Tyler spoke again. “Second grade was some place named after a tree. I was supposed to start at Wilson something for third—”

“Slow down.” Wyatt scribbled as the boy once again listed off the schools, then looked over at him. “How many times have you moved?”

“Lots.” Tyler focused on the screen, zapping more monsters with two swift finger blasts.

None of those school names rang a bell with Wyatt. “All in Texas?”

“Nope. Florida and Louisiana.” The monsters fought back and Tyler didn’t say anything else.

Wyatt leaned back in Dad’s captain’s chair and wished it were the man instead of a piece of wood. Dad’s death when Wyatt was fifteen had made him grow up damned fast. Since that time, though, Wyatt had called on a lot of his dad’s lessons and wisdom—at least what he’d managed to absorb in those short fifteen years. But nothing seemed to fit this situation.

He’d give anything to have his dad’s input now.

“Okay, buddy. Let’s get moving. I’ll drive you to school today since I have to turn in these papers.”

Tyler shut down the game, meticulously saving his play then grabbed his backpack. He struggled under the weight for an instant.

“What’ve you got in there?”

“Stuff.” Tyler glared up at him and Wyatt backed off.

He’d approach that issue later. Tyler still didn’t trust him completely. One step at a time. He heard his father’s memory and smiled.

Yep, one step at a time.

* * *

EMILY SHOULD HAVE known. Drew lied. Again. Last night he’d told Dianne that he’d stay until she got there. It took her longer than the fifteen minutes she’d said—it had taken her seventeen, thanks to one obstinate stoplight—and he’d been gone when she got to the office.

So here Emily sat at her desk today, waiting. She’d spent all last night awake, dreading the confrontation, because it would be a confrontation.

Now as she read through the legal briefs for Monday’s cases, her mind was only half focused on the words in front of her. He’d show up when he was ready, not when it was convenient for her.

Just like Earl.

Her phone rang and she nearly jumped a foot. As it was, she knocked the file to the floor, pages scattering across the polished wood. “Yes,” she answered.

“He’s here,” was all Dianne said before disconnecting. Emily knew she wasn’t going to escort Drew back. Dianne would happily let him cool his heels in the lobby for hours, except Emily didn’t want her clerk to have to put up with him any longer than necessary. Dianne was too good for that.

Emily straightened her desk, readjusted her skirt a couple times then grumbled at herself as she walked to the lobby.

Drew was a big man, just like his father. If anything he’d grown bigger, and not in a good way. He scowled at her, but as she looked back, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him without a scowl on his face. She’d first met him when their parents had married. She’d been thirteen. He’d been fifteen...and trouble.

His father had forced him to wear a buzz cut back then; now his chin-length hair was slicked back from his forehead with something that looked a lot like...Vaseline.

“Drew. Nice to see you again.”

For an instant he looked taken aback and then the scowl deepened. “This isn’t a social visit, Emily. I’m here on business.” His voice came out deep and coated with impatience.

What kind of business could Drew have with a family court judge? “Let’s step into my office.” She didn’t wait for him to follow, knowing that he would.

Much as she had yesterday with the tall cowboy, she sought protection behind the wooden desk. Where Wyatt had completely ignored the barrier, Drew settled uneasily in the spindly wing-backed chair facing her. She resisted the urge to gloat.

“So, Drew, what can I do for you?”

“I want Dad’s stuff.” He leaned forward, apparently trying to look menacing.

“What stuff?” She had no idea what he was talking about. Mom had given away all of Earl’s clothes when he died and had tossed most everything else. Drew hadn’t asked for anything then. What was this about?

“I know your mom has moved out of the trailer. I was out there yesterday. I want the keys so I can get my half.”

The idea that he’d been out there made Emily shiver. What if Mom had still been out there alone?

“Your half?” she repeated. “Of what?”

“The ranch.”

Ranch? The single-wide trailer out in the middle of the desert, a ranch? Last she’d seen, the barn, what was left of it, was falling over. The small corral was long gone. The only thing of value might—might—be the desert land it all sat on. But she doubted it.

“That land was my mom’s before she married Earl. Besides, she’s still alive, Drew.” Even though the dump her mother had lived in was a dump it was hers as long as she was living.

“It became half his when they got married. I know, he showed me the paperwork. Anyway, it’s not like she’s using it.” His voice rose and he leaned even farther forward.

“Using what? The land or the trailer?”

“I want my half of the estate. Now.”

Emily stared across the small office. She wasn’t up to explaining that there was nothing for him. One second she wanted to laugh, the next she had to bite her tongue to keep from letting loose nearly twenty years of pent-up anger.

Estate? The man was delusional. “We don’t know that she won’t go back. Besides, there’s nothing there, Drew. Just a pile of junk.”

She forced her mind not to see the hellhole she’d moved her mother out of. The hovel she’d had to live in until she’d been old enough to escape.

“There has to be.” Drew shot to his feet, leaning over her. His eyes practically glowed with rage and he wiped away spittle from his lips with the back of his arm. “That bastard had to leave me something.”

Emily refused to be afraid of Drew anymore. She had been once. One night in the barn, she’d been hiding from Earl—again. Drew had found her, at first friendly, cajoling and soothing. Then when he’d tried to pin her down to the hard wooden floor, she did what her real dad had taught her. And the well-placed kick had kept him away from her for the rest of that summer. Months later, after Earl had belted Drew one too many times, the boy had run back to his mom’s house. He’d never returned for any extended stays.

“If you won’t tell me where it is, I’ll get the answer out of your mother.” Drew headed toward the door. Emily resisted the urge to run after him and grab him. She couldn’t let him see her fear, but she wasn’t letting him near her mother.

“Where what is, Drew? You’re not making sense.” He didn’t stop walking. “You go near Mom and I’ll have you arrested.” She didn’t move, but the tone of her voice stopped him.

“What the hell for?” He rounded on her, his hands curling into big meaty fists. Just like Earl. She refused to let memories scare her. She was a judge, a grown woman with power, not a young girl scared of her own shadow and getting hurt. And she was all that stood between Drew and her mother.

“Well, menacing an at-risk adult to start. You take anything from her and I’ll have you arrested so fast your head will spin.” The flare in his eyes told her she might have gone too far. He took a step toward her, but stopped.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

Suddenly, Dianne appeared at the office door, breaking the tension in the room. “Your Honor?”

Your Honor? Oh, how official Dianne sounded. Emily swallowed back her thankful smile. “Yes?”

“You need to leave if you’re going to make your appointment.”

“We’re not finished.” Drew ground out the words.

Oh, yes, they were. “Well, we’ll have to finish later. It’s court business.” She didn’t elaborate. Emily stood and walked to the coatrack by the door, effectively shutting off anything Drew had to say. “I’ll walk you out.” The last thing she’d do was leave him in her office unattended.

He beat her to it, stomping down the hall and slamming the outer door. His last words of “I’ll be back” were nearly cut off by the sound of the wood hitting its frame.

“Well, isn’t he a charmer,” Dianne drawled from behind her desk. “Your family reunions must be a real joy.”

Despite her nearly flippant words, Emily could see the concern in Dianne’s eyes. Emily leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths. “Lord. I need to call the facility. He can’t see Mom.” She didn’t have to explain anything to Dianne. She’d heard every word.

“He seems like the kind who will, no matter what you do. Just be prepared.”

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