Lucky Penny (57 page)
“Well,” David said in an authoritative voice, “that’s only because we haven’t made our wish official. What we need to do is see a judge and have him draw up a bona fide contract that all three of us must sign. I will promise to be your
real
papa, forever and always. Your aunt Brianna will promise to be your
real
mama, forever and always. And you will have to promise that you will be our
real
daughter forever and always. After we all sign the document, the judge will stamp it with his official seal, and then it will always be so.”
Daphne’s little face glowed with hope. “Can the contract also say that my mama will always be my papa’s
real
wife, and that my papa will always be my mama’s
real
husband? No more pretending?”
David flashed Brianna a twinkling look and nodded. Brianna knew that the circuit judge who came to No Name was a good friend of David’s. He apparently felt certain the man would stamp anything they put before him if he realized how important it was to one beautiful little girl with a dimple in her cheek.
“Deal,” David said, pushing to his feet.
As he helped Brianna to stand, she echoed him with, “Deal.”
Daphne scrambled up between them. “Deal!” she cried excitedly.
As the three of them walked to the train depot, hand in hand, with Daphne in the middle and the dog trailing faithfully at her heels, the little girl looked up at David. “Can Sam be in our contract, too, Papa?”
David was momentarily flummoxed. He wasn’t sure how the judge would feel about that. But then he decided that anything could be included in a document that meant nothing legally. It would be an agreement conceived in a child’s heart, and the judge would understand.
“Sure he can,” he assured Daphne.
Daphne skipped along between him and Brianna, suddenly happy as only children can be after an earth-
shattering event. A few minutes later, as David helped everyone board the train, he smiled, thinking that he now had the one thing he’d wanted all his adult life, true and everlasting love with the woman of his dreams, a beautiful daughter, and a fabulous dog.
In short, he finally had a
real
family.
I
Under his duster, David wore pressed jeans and the blue shirt Brianna had made him for his birthday, but outwardly, he still had a roughrider air about him. How odd that she now found that so attractive when it had once scared her nearly to death. Ah, well, the man was so handsome he almost took her breath away, and she seriously doubted that would ever change. There was just something about David Paxton that charmed her, and she suspected that she would be madly in love with him until the day she died.
Daphne walked between them. They each held one of her hands. Sam, ever faithful, trailed at the girl’s heels. It was a sunny summer afternoon. The sky was powder blue without a cloud in sight, and in her new silk day dress, Brianna felt hot and vaguely nauseated. Doc Halloway, No Name’s aging physician, assured Brianna that morning sickness was to be expected during the early weeks of pregnancy. Normally Brianna felt better by noon, but then she’d taken to staying indoors after the sun reached its zenith. Becoming overheated didn’t sit well with her these days.
David sent her a questioning look. He’d become overprotective since she’d told him she was with child. Brianna
smiled. “I’m fine, David. Just feeling a bit wilted. Stop fussing.”
Instead of paying her any mind, he slowed the pace. He worried constantly that Brianna might start to bleed if she did too much, just as Moira had. That wasn’t going to happen. Aside from a queasy stomach each morning, Brianna felt strong, right with the world, and perfectly fine.
Excited about signing a contract that would make them a
real
family, Daphne stepped out ahead of them, trying to hurry them along until her arms were angled out behind her. “Don’t lollygag,” she scolded. “We’ll be late!”
Brianna had talked with David, and they’d decided not to tell Daphne that she would soon have a baby brother or sister until their contract to be a core family was signed and stamped. They both wanted the child to know she was as much theirs as any child that might come along in the future, and Brianna and David hoped to have a passel.
They reached the end of the boardwalk and stepped off onto packed dirt gone powdery in the heat. Up ahead, Hazel Wright’s house stood empty, awaiting the newly hired teacher who would arrive in late August. After writing a lengthy letter of apology to both David and Brianna, Hazel had left town to take a higher-paying job in Denver, which she’d snagged only because Brianna, as the wife of No Name’s marshal, had insisted that the woman be given a glowing letter of recommendation from the city council and school board. Loving David as Brianna did, she knew how badly she might have behaved if the shoe had been on the other foot. David Paxton was a man that no woman could easily give up.
Happily, Hazel’s rant had carried little weight with the townspeople. Why, anybody with eyes could see that Daphne Paxton was the spitting image of her papa and his ma. Gossip had it that if a jilted woman was going to spin lies, she’d best be sure they were believable. Daphne wasn’t David’s daughter? Pshaw! That little girl was Dory Paxton all over again.
Brianna was relieved to step into the community hall, where she was shielded from the sun. She waved a hand in
front of her face. David swept off his hat and hung it on a hook.
Daphne dashed to the judge’s desk, Sam circling around her legs. “We’re here to sign an official contract to make us a real family.”
Judge Claymore was elderly, with silver gray hair, kindly blue eyes, and a wry smile. He patted a stack of papers on his makeshift desk, a table normally used for buffets. “Your father gave me all the particulars ahead of time, so it’s all drawn up and ready.”
David curled an arm around Brianna’s waist and led her forward. When they reached the table, he released his hold on her to shake the judge’s hand. “Your Honor, good to see you. I hope this heat isn’t getting to you.”
“Not badly. One thing about Colorado is that you can always count on cool breezes in the evening.” He stood, as any gentleman would, robed or not, to meet Brianna and shake her hand. Then he resumed his seat to proceed with business.
As promised, Daphne, along with her parents, was to sign a contract that would legalize her
real
family. The judge had good-naturedly prepared a document that would never be recorded, which stated in impressive-sounding language that her mama would always be her mama, and her papa would always be her papa, and she would always be their daughter. Even Sam got to sign. David pressed the dog’s right front paw onto the ink pad and then the paper.
“Now you’re my
real
mama and papa!” Daphne cried. She jumped around, flapping the skirts of the new pink dress Brianna had fashioned for her. “Forever and always!”
David’s family members began to file into the hall. They had come to witness the nuptials between David and Brianna and the signing of adoption papers to make Daphne legally a Paxton. No one else had been invited because the secret of Daphne’s true parentage had to be carefully guarded. The judge had deemed David and Brianna’s first marriage to be slightly out of order, and with the adoption of Daphne and the coming of another child, he wanted the union to be unquestionably legal. Brianna had never agreed
to the first marriage, and there had been only one witness. David was a fairly wealthy man. The judge wanted to be certain that Brianna’s claim to David’s estate, in the event of his untimely demise, could never be contested.
Brianna wasn’t thinking about death when she and David said their vows. She looked into his eyes—those incredibly beautiful and compelling blue eyes, which were so very like Daphne’s—and thought about that night, which seemed so long ago now, when she’d confessed to him that she had no sense of direction. He’d vowed then to teach her how to find her way.
And he had. Only the lessons had nothing to do with north, south, west, or east.
She’d once envied him his uncanny ability to know exactly which way to go, but now she had developed her own inner compass. As she stood in the midst of his family, which had become hers as well, and said, “I do,” she knew that her compass needle would always direct her only one way, straight into David Paxton’s arms.
The moment David and Brianna’s union as husband and wife was signed, stamped, and ready to be recorded, the judge turned his attention to the adoption papers. His expression was solemn as he leafed through the Pinkerton report. “According to this investigation, Stanley Romanik denied all charges and refused to acknowledge any biological connection.” He stopped short and glanced at Daphne, clearly choosing his words carefully so the child wouldn’t understand the import of what he said. “I see no legal obstacles to this adoption. There is no one to contest it.”
Dory, standing off to Brianna’s right, got a curious look on her face. She stepped closer to the desk. “Come again, Your Honor? Did you say Romanik, Stanley Romanik?”
The judge glanced up. “That’s right.”
Dory pressed her hands to her waist. “That report doesn’t, by any chance, give the Christian name of Stanley Romanik’s father, does it?”
Claymore pushed his glasses up his nose and leafed through the paperwork. After several seconds, his scowl lessened. “Esa Romanik. His wife’s name is Hester.”
For an instant, Dory looked as if she might faint. Her
son Esa stepped to her side to loop an arm around her shoulders. “Ma, are you all right?”
Dory leaned against him, nodding as she focused a tear-filled gaze on Daphne. “Right as rain. Esa Romanick is my brother-in-law. Hester is my sister. I haven’t seen them in years. They journeyed from Boston to visit me once in San Francisco when Stanley was about five. He was spoiled rotten, a holy terror, and I—” Dory broke off and swallowed, her attention still fixed on Daphne. “I guess my sister and her husband never saw the error of their ways with him. Stanley’s behavior apparently never improved.”
Brianna felt lightheaded. Moira’s rapist, Stanley Romanik, was Dory Paxton’s nephew? And David, the love of her life, was related to him? Closely related, first cousins, by her calculation. She wasn’t certain how she felt about that.
“I remember that visit,” Ace said. “Aunt Hester let that little brat get away with murder. So did Uncle Esa. The kid could do anything, and he was never punished.”
“Are you certain the name isn’t merely a coincidence?” Brianna asked.
David inserted, “I saw the name Romanik, but I never made the connection. Ma’s maiden name is Jesperson, and—” He broke off and shook his head. “I haven’t seen Aunt Hester and Uncle Esa since I was young, and then only once. I don’t recall if I was ever told their last name.”
Dory met Brianna’s gaze. “It isn’t a common surname. I named one of my sons after Esa Romanik because I admired him so. There can’t possibly be two men with that name in Boston married to a woman named Hester. Stanley is my sister’s son.”
Brianna fanned her face. Everyone in the room, with the exception of the judge and her sisters-in-law, was related to a man who’d been instrumental in killing her identical twin. How was a bride—especially a pregnant one—supposed to take that in without feeling as if she needed to sit down and ask for a glass of water?
“I know what you must be thinking,” Dory said softly. “I’d be thinking it myself, Brianna. But I assure you this isn’t a case of bad blood. My sister, Hester, is one of the most wonderful, loving individuals you’ll ever meet. And
Esa is as well. They were just deplorable parents. God forgive me for saying it, but it’s a blessing that Hester could have no more children. They didn’t get a chance to ruin another one.”
Joseph spoke up. “I remember Stanley. The little shit stuffed Eden’s cat in the hot oven. Ace rescued him, and we doctored his paws for days.”
Dory straightened away from her youngest son. “Your cousin was, without question, a cruel, out-of-control child, and he obviously grew up the same.” She looked straight at Brianna. “But he is no reflection on
me
or the children
I
raised. My sons are good men, and my daughter is beyond compare.”
Brianna recovered her composure and searched the faces of David’s brothers. They were honorable men, wonderful men. How could she ask for better brothers-in-law? Then her wandering gaze found David’s. She felt as if she could drown in the depths of his blue eyes. They pulled and drew her in. The next instant, his strong arms locked around her, and Brianna knew she was precisely where she belonged—deeply loved and forever linked to him, heart to heart, flesh to flesh.
Daphne tugged on her skirt. “Mama, does this mean you and Papa can’t adopt me?”
Brianna drew away from David and crouched to cup her daughter’s face in her hands. There were some things Daphne didn’t need to understand until she was much older. “No, absolutely not! We will proceed as planned. It only means that the adoption is merely a formality, dear heart. You’re truly a Paxton by blood.”
“I am?” Daphne beamed a huge grin. “That’s wonderful, right?”
Brianna smiled up at Dory. “It’s the most wonderful thing ever! You truly
do
have your grandma Dory’s dimple.”
Daphne scampered away to grab Dory’s hands. “Grandma, did you hear that? I’ve truly got your dimple!”
Dory hugged the child close. “Yes, you certainly do! And my birthmark as well.”
With a great deal of happy chatter pealing out around them, David and Brianna signed the paperwork to make
Daphne legally their daughter. The judge stamped the documents with a loud bang as if to make sure the sound rang clear to heaven. Then he stood, looking regal in his black robe, and thrust out his hand to Daphne.