Chapter 32 #2
“Mr. Hartly, why did your daughter—Tammy—choose to keep Ellie from her biological father?”
“She only said that the father wouldn’t be interested. It wasn’t until her last few days that she told us who he was.”
“And when was that?”
He looks down at his lap and I swallow hard. “Three years ago.”
“I’m very sorry. But it was only this summer—four months ago—that you came to the ranch looking for Mr. Thorne.”
“I didn’t know him. If he even wanted her. If he had a family of his own. My wife and I were scared to lose Ellie—she was all that was left of . . .”
Noah glances at me, letting me know he could rip him apart right now. But I shake my head.
“One more question. For whatever your reasons, you decided your granddaughter was better off an orphan than to let her meet her father, who you must have learned is a reasonably wealthy, well-respected ranch owner from a good family. Only after your wife got sick and you needed to travel for treatment, did you decide, now’s the time.
But here you are, questioning Mr. Thorne for doing something purely for convenience?
” Noah holds up his hand. “This is a yes or no question.”
Cole waits a beat, glancing at Glenda, then at me. “Yes.”
“And now that you see Ellie’s father has built a home, married a woman who the little girl adores, you still think he’s unfit to be her full-time legal guardian.”
Cole meets my eyes. “It’s not real. It’s a lie to cheat me out of all I have left,” he shouts, his hands trembling.
“Noah,” I mutter low, but loud enough for him to hear.
He glances back at me then sighs like his hands are tied. “No further questions.”
I inhale deeply, conflicted with victory and compassion. The court has to grant me custody. This man is clearly still grieving.
My eyes linger on the other side of the room as Cole returns to his seat. Glenda doesn’t seem frazzled one bit. She stands, tightening the fit of her blazer.
“I’d like to call Willow Brooks to the stand.”
“Character witness?” I murmur.
Noah’s jaw works. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?” It’s a blow-off and I get it. He’s mad. He flips his papers upside down and sits back like it’s out of his hands.
“Please state your name.”
“Willow Thorne.” My wife smiles brightly.
Glenda’s clenches her jaw. “Officially changed, then?”
“Not officially yet.” She winks at Glenda. “We’ve been busy.”
The tightness in my chest eases with the grin she tosses me.
Not finding the humor, Glenda’s heels click as she draws closer. “When did you first meet Dallas Thorne?”
Willow grins. “It was in New York. At the Lock Bar, where I play piano and sing.”
“Oh, how fancy. Let me guess—love at first sight?”
Willow’s eyes are fierce but her smile sharp. “Good guess.”
Glenda gives a tight grin. “So the job sounds fancy, the Lock Bar—what’d you make there?”
“Objection, irrelevant,” Noah calls out, tiredly.
Glenda smiles at the judge. “It is, I promise.”
“Overruled. Proceed.”
Willow blinks. “Um . . . enough to pay rent, not much more.”
“Ah yes.” She grabs her papers. “And who did that rental apartment belong to?”
“It was a rental, so the landlord.” She grins tightly.
“Of course. Was the lease under your name?”
Willow takes a breath, unrattled. “No. It was my ex-boyfriend’s.”
Glenda nods, pacing in front of the stand. “The ex-boyfriend who terminated the lease a few days after you arrived at Blue River Springs, is that right?”
There’s a beat before Willow answers, her expression even. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t talk to him.”
Noah nods his approval.
“What kind of questioning is this?” I lean in and whisper. “What does this have to do with me or Ellie?”
“Give her a minute,” Noah mutters, staring ahead.
“I see,” Glenda continues, like she’s trying to work out a thought in her head. “So you don’t make that much money, but submitted a homebuyer interest form for . . .” she checks her notes, “the Lakeview Estates.”
What? Where the hell is that?
Willow blinks a few times, shoulders stiff. My eyes drop to her throat, working with a swallow.
“It’s a yes or no question, Ms. Brooks.”
She takes a breath, eyes sweeping over mine briefly. “Yes.”
“Can we ask why?”
“Objection, irrelevant,” Noah calls out, finally.
“Sustained. Please limit your questioning to the case.”
“I’ll just get to my point,” Glenda confirms.
The judge rolls her eyes.
“The Lakeview Estates.” Glenda spins to face the court. “Which, by the way, is a beautiful new community out in the suburbs of Long Island, New York—starts at half a million dollars. How does someone who makes just enough for rent, afford that?”
Willow glares at her. Face pale.
I snap, turning to Noah. “Shouldn’t you be saying something here?”
He ignores me.
Glenda gives up on an answer and moves on. “I’ll rephrase as a yes or no question since you seem confused.”
Heat floods my chest.
“Is it true that your grandmother left you an inheritance of five hundred thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“How nice. And were there conditions?”
Willow’s chest rises and falls. Face pale, barely breathing. “Yes.”
“Will you tell the court what they are?”
I tear my eyes off my wife to look at my attorney. “What the hell is going on?”
Willow’s voice trembles. “I would get the money when I turned twenty-eight.”
“Well, says here you’re twenty-four. Is that the only condition?” Glenda presses and I’m just about tired of her voice.
Willow looks at me with a hard swallow. “No. When I turn twenty-eight or . . . when there is a legal marriage.”
“Which you did last week, so that’s convenient for you too, isn’t it? Now you can buy that lovely-looking house on the East Coast.”
Willow shakes her head at the woman in front of her. “How did you . . .”
Glenda holds up her papers. “It becomes public when the money is distributed. Which it was—” she looks down, “—three days ago.”
“No, I didn’t—” Willow cries.
“Are you saying it wasn’t withdrawn?”
Willow’s lips tremble, eyes pooling. “Well, yes, but—”
“No further questions.”
Willow’s eyes meet mine and for the first time in weeks, I can’t read her. I can barely read the look I’m giving her because I’m shaking with the urge to whisk her off the stand—and the urge to walk out of here for some air.
I lower my eyes. “This what you were trying to tell me?”
“Counsel?” The judge calls Noah.
He stands. “No questions, your honor.”
Judge Walker turns to Willow. “You may step down.”
Willow mouths an apology to me then takes a seat in the back.
Minutes later, I lose custody of Ellie after the authenticity of my marriage, my character, and, somehow, Ellie’s safety on my ranch is questioned.
Noah packs up his briefcase. “This isn’t over. I’ll get it appealed. Evidence of Willow’s intentions were held back.”
I stand, buttoning my jacket. “Get it appealed. Do not bring Willow into it.”
“Dallas, you lost custody because of her—”
“I lost because of you. If you knew, you should have done something. Instead of letting my wife get eaten alive up there.”
He turns to me, stunned. “Were you in the room?”
I stalk away to the back of the courtroom to catch Glenda and Cole before they leave. I see them making their way out the courtroom doors.
Willow catches my wrist. “Dallas,” her breath stutters, barely audible over the noise. “I’m so sorry, I—”
Gently, I push her hand down. “Not now, Willow.” I make my way through the crowd, catching Cole and Glenda muttering low just outside the door.
Pulse pounding, eyes locked, I storm over. “This was between you and me, Hartly,” I roar inches from his face. “Not her. Mark my words, I will get my daughter back. But you ever attack my wife again, I’ll make sure you’re so far off the page, you don’t exist.”
Cole’s lips part, eyes narrowing in confusion. “But she’s not—”
I hear the courtroom doors fly open behind me, then a sniffle as Willow’s familiar scent breezes behind me. Snapping my attention, I catch her racing down the hall toward the exit.
“Willow,” I call over the crowd.
She doesn’t stop, pushing past the double doors and down the steps.
“Willow, wait.” My tone isn’t anxious or pleading. It’s sharp and demanding. Like I can’t sort the variations of my anger between Noah, Cole, Glenda . . . and her.
I reach the front doors, pushing them open and finding Willow at the bottom of the landing with Silas. He’s holding her shoulders as she sobs. She says something and he nods, opening the passenger door for her.
He catches my eye and I nod my OK.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turn, finding Cole behind me, alone. His expression etched with concern as he watches Willow drive away.
I mutter a curse, ready to storm past him to find my lawyer when his steps out of the courthouse. She finds Cole, taking him to one side. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find this fair, considering you won at the very first hearing.” She hands him a piece of paper I can only assume is her invoice.
Cole grabs it, eyeing it closely. “This . . . is fair, huh?”
I shake my head, turning away. “You can call my office and work out a plan. Chat soon about the plan for pick-up.” She heads down the steps, leaving us alone.
I yank the paper from his hands, not bothering to look at the damage. “I’ll take care of this,” I mutter, folding it up and tucking it into my jacket.
“W-why would you do that?”
I exhale a sharp breath. “Because we’re family, Cole. That’s what family does. You don’t have to like everything they do, but you don’t leave them high and dry.” I eye him up and down. “No matter how old and mature they’re supposed to be.”
“Is she . . . is Willow going to be all right?”
I glare at him. “You better hope so.”
I grab Dad and we head back in my car—since his ride just took off with my wife.
“You in a rush to get home?” Dad asks, voice calm like he lives in some world where everything is going to be all right.
My heart aches when I answer, “No.”
“Didn’t think so. Grab a few drinks at The Shack?”
I nod. “Yeah.”