Authors: Patricia Bradley
Tags: #Fiction, #Family Life, #Romance, #Contemporary
Matt rubbed his brow. “Hopefully by Tuesday evening. Bradford is awarding the contract Wednesday morning, and I want to be in town.” He listened once again, and a blush crept up his neck. He glanced their way then turned toward the door. “You, too.”
He ended the call and turned to them.
“You’re taking Patches to the shelter.” Noah’s voice trembled.
“I, ah...”
“You promised. You said I could keep her.”
Matt raised his hands. “I don’t know yet. It’s complicated, Noah.”
Allie folded her arms across her chest. It hadn’t been complicated before he talked to Jessica.
“Look, right now I’m taking this situation one hour at a time.” He checked his watch. “And it’s almost eight. If we’re going to be at the hospital by visiting time, we need to leave.”
Noah picked up the kitten. “What about—”
“She can stay here in the kitchen.” Matt took Patches and placed her in the pet carrier and started to shut the crate door.
“Don’t close her up.”
He rolled his eyes, but left the door open.
“Noah and I will meet you at the hospital,” Allie said. “Unless you want to get your things from the backseat now.”
Noah tugged on her arm. “I want to ride with you.”
Matt squatted in front of the boy. “Look, I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me. I feel real bad that your mom is in the hospital, and that I didn’t know about you.”
“But you’re going to leave Patches at that rescue place. She’s too little. She’ll die there.”
Allie gripped the table edge as the boy dropped his head and hunched his shoulders. Noah wasn’t talking about just the kitten. “Patches isn’t going to the shelter.
I
promise you that,” she told them.
His head shot up, and hope leapt into his eyes. “You promise?”
If Matt made her take this kitten, she’d kill him. She didn’t have time for it. She heaved a sigh. “I promise.” She directed her gaze to Matt. “But it won’t come to that,
will
it?”
As Noah dropped beside the carrier to pet Patches, Matt stood. “I hope not.” Then he turned to Noah. “Are you coming back here with me when we leave the hospital?”
Noah’s eyes pleaded with her. “I want to stay with Miss Allie.”
Her chest tightened. As a mentor at the shelter, she was authorized to take children for short day trips, and had pushed the limits of her authority when she brought him here. She knelt beside him. “I’m afraid that might not be possible. I don’t have permission to keep you overnight.”
Allie glanced up at Matt. “Legally, he probably needs to go back to the shelter. It’s a nice place.”
He shook his head. “Not happening. Noah is my nephew and he’s staying here. I’ll get a TV so he’ll have something to do while I work. Maybe some video games, too.”
She stared at him, wanting to ask why he’d changed his tune. “Are TV and video games your idea of how to entertain a child?”
“Mom won’t let me play video games.”
“Good for her,” Allie said.
Matt checked his watch. “Can we figure this out later? We need to leave.”
* * *
O
NLY
TWO
AT
a time were let into ICU, so Allie waited while Matt and Noah visited Mariah. The waiting room had a small kitchen area, and she poured herself a cup of decaf. When she turned around she almost bumped into Peter. They spoke simultaneously.
“I thought I’d find you here—”
“Are you inventing excuses—”
“You first,” Allie said.
He shrugged. “No, I’m not inventing excuses this time. I checked with the shelter, and Sarah said Noah was with you. You didn’t answer your cell phone, but I figured you two were here.”
She pulled out her phone. Still on silent and a message Peter had called. She cocked her head. “Why are you here? It’s New Year’s Day, and you don’t normally handle these cases. Why this one?”
He stiffened. “For the same reason you’re here. Mariah’s mother worked for us. She was a fine woman, and she’d want me to help her grandson. Where is he, anyway?”
“Visiting his mom.”
“By himself?”
“No, Matt’s with him.”
Peter lifted his chin. “I told him he’s not getting the boy. At least not until a judge says so, and that won’t happen until Tuesday since Monday is the legal holiday for New Year’s.”
That answered the question of why Matt suddenly wanted Noah. Movement behind Peter caught her eye. Matt and Noah had returned from their visit. Noah ran toward her. “Mom’s nurse said she was better. That maybe she’d wake up tomorrow.”
He stopped short when he saw Peter. He sidled next to Allie, and she wrapped her arm across his shoulders. “Good. Noah, I’d like you to meet Peter Elliott.”
Peter knelt down and stuck out his hand. “Hello, Noah. I’m here to help you.”
Noah tried to bury himself in Allie’s side when Peter held out his hand. “He’s a little shy,” she said.
Matt cleared his throat. “He doesn’t need your help. He has family here to help him.”
Peter rose and turned around. “Hello again, Matthew. Hadn’t seen you in years, and now twice.”
“Your lucky weekend, I guess. Did Allie tell you Noah’s going home with me?”
“No, he’s not. That’s why I’m here. He’s a ward of the state. He’ll be going back to the shelter.”
Noah looked up at Allie, his face the color of flour. “Miss Allie...” He sniffed. “I want to go see Patches.”
Allie looked from Matt to Peter. They reminded her of two bulldogs eying each other over a bone. “This isn’t the place or the time. But legally, doesn’t the family’s right supersede the state’s?”
Peter’s expression softened as he turned to Allie. He shook his head. “Not until it goes before a judge.”
CHAPTER SIX
“N
OAH
IS
MY
nephew and you’re not taking him back to that shelter.” Matt reached for the boy’s hand. “Let’s go home and see Patches.”
Peter stepped between them. “I’m afraid not. When the state took custody of Noah last night after his mother overdosed, he became a ward of the state. My responsibility. And—”
“Have you filed the paperwork?” Matt shifted his feet, planting them wide.
Peter’s lips thinned. “In emergency situations, paperwork can wait until the hearing, which will be Tuesday. As a representative of the state, it is my opinion that the child will be better off at the shelter, at least until the hearing, when a solution can be found.”
Peter planned to take Noah away from Mariah. Matt could read it in his face. His hands curled into tight fists. As director of social services, Peter had the power to do it. And maybe his sister hadn’t been the best mother, but she deserved a chance to do better. If she went into rehab and got her act straight, no one should take her son away. “Just what do you base your opinion on?”
“We don’t need to discuss this in front of the boy here,” Peter said.
“You’re right.” Allie lowered her voice. “Why don’t you two grow up? This isn’t a math competition or a quarterback position you’re fighting over. It’s a child.”
Matt flinched when Allie snapped her gaze to him.
“This is not something that should be discussed in front of him, or here in the ICU waiting room.”
“Tell
him
that.” Matt jerked his head toward Peter. Just once, he’d like to wipe that superior smirk from his face.
Peter blanched, and then bent over until he was eye level with Noah. “I apologize for talking about you like you weren’t here. You liked the shelter, didn’t you?”
Noah gave a half shrug.
Matt cleared his throat. “But you would rather stay with me, right?”
“I want to stay with Miss Allie.”
Peter sighed. “And you could if Miss Allie were legally a foster parent.”
“I might have a solution,” Allie said. “My folks have been foster parents for years. If they are willing, can he be placed with them until the hearing Tuesday?”
Peter scratched his jaw. “Are they fostering anyone presently?”
“No.” Noah tugged at her arm and she looked down at him.
“But, Miss Allie, I want to stay with you.”
“In a way, you will. I’ll spend the weekend there.” She took out her phone. “Let me call them.”
Matt opened his mouth to protest, and Allie stared him down. He shoved his hands in his pockets as she dialed her parents and spoke with them. He couldn’t deny the relief he felt when she nodded an okay to Peter—her parents were the perfect answer, but he didn’t like losing, not even to Allie.
At least Peter wasn’t taking Noah to the shelter this weekend. Matt’s old rival apparently didn’t like this turn any more than he did, and history told him the determined social services director would try to do something about it the first day he could. Matt jingled the change in his pocket. Peter Elliott didn’t know the meaning of the word
determination,
but he would when Matt got through with him.
“They’re waiting for us.” Allie knelt and lifted Noah’s chin. “Is spending the night at my parents’ house good with you? We’ll stop and get you something to sleep in, and then I’ll bring you back to see your mom for the ten o’clock visiting time in the morning.”
“Can we go get Patches?”
“Honey, she’s probably asleep. Why don’t we leave her at your Uncle Matt’s tonight and tomorrow we’ll decide what to do.”
Matt tousled Noah’s hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Noah pulled back, his eyes darting toward the exit. What had happened? Matt thought they were making progress.
“Give him a little space,” Allie said softly. “I don’t think he’s had a lot of positive male role models, and what just happened here didn’t help.”
Matt riveted his eyes on Noah. “I won’t hurt you, son. And I won’t let them take you away from your mom. I guarantee it.”
Noah shrugged again, and hurt emanated from his small frame like a blazing neon sign. Matt knew that hurt, the frustration of being part of the Jefferies family in Cedar Grove. He might have to wait until the hearing, but come Tuesday afternoon, he and Noah would shake the dust of Cedar Grove from their coattails. Matt squeezed Noah’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
The distrust in Noah’s eyes softened a little. The boy glanced up at Allie, and she gave him a short nod before she turned to Matt and Peter. “I’ll be in touch with each of you tomorrow, but I’d like you both to go along with letting Noah stay at my parents’ until after the hearing Tuesday.”
Without waiting for either of them to answer, she led Noah toward the exit. Halfway there, Noah tugged at her arm and said something Matt couldn’t hear. She seemed to consider whatever he said then nodded. “Matt,” Allie called. “We want to visit with Patches sometime tomorrow.”
“You bet,” he replied. “Just let me know when.”
When the door closed behind Allie and Noah, Peter folded his arms. “You haven’t won yet. So you can wipe that grin off your face.”
“There’s no reason why I won’t get custody of Noah,” Matt retorted.
“Really? You’re single, you have no relationship with the kid or his mother, and you have no place to live in Cedar Grove other than that tiny house on Beaker Street. You do realize, if you get custody, you’ll have him until his mother finishes rehab. Because no way is that boy going back into her care until she shows she’ll stay off of drugs.”
“His name is Noah,” Matt growled through gritted teeth. “And my sister will beat the drugs.” His cell beeped, and he slipped his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. A text from J. Phillip Bradford. That was about the last thing he wanted to see right now. He eyed Peter. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Hopefully, we won’t meet again until the hearing.” Matt didn’t wait around for a reply.
“That boy is going to interfere with your work,” Peter called behind him.
At his car, Matt read the text and groaned. Bradford wanted a meeting tomorrow. Sunday. Did the man never take a day off? He speed-dialed the CEO’s number. “Mr. Bradford, just received your text. Is there a problem?”
“I’d like your advice on entertainment for the banquet.” Bradford’s gravelly voice raked Matt’s ears.
“I’m afraid I’m out of town until Tuesday evening. Can we handle this over the phone?” He turned the ignition and let the car idle.
“You didn’t mention leaving town this morning.”
“A family emergency came up.”
“Oh? Is someone ill?”
“Uh, yes, sir.” That surely wasn’t a note of concern he detected in Bradford’s voice. “My sister.”
“Will she be all right?”
Definitely a note of concern. “I haven’t seen a doctor, but the nurses seem to think so.” Matt stared at the BMW insignia above the speedometer. “She has a son, though, and there’s no one to care for him.”
“Yes, with your mother dead, I suppose you are the only one.”
How did Bradford know his mom had died? Matt rubbed the bridge of his nose. Of course. Bradford must have run a background check on Matt. A bit over-the-top perhaps, but not entirely unexpected. “Yes, sir. There’s a court hearing on Tuesday to determine where the boy will stay. I should have the paperwork wrapped up by noon and be back in Memphis by evening with my nephew. And about the entertainment, may I think about that tonight and get back to you in the morning?” Before he suggested anyone, he wanted to make sure they were available for a Valentine’s Day gig this close to the date.
“Of course. And let me know how your sister progresses.”
So the old curmudgeon had a heart, after all. “Yes, sir.” Matt had barely disconnected from the call when his cell rang again. Allie. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. We’re at the store now, getting him some clothes.”
“I had planned for us to go by his house when we left the hospital and pick up a few things.”
“That’s why I called—to see if you wanted to meet us there tomorrow, and then we can swing by your house, and he can see Patches for a few minutes before we go to the hospital.”
“How about I pick you two up at eight and take you to breakfast?”
She laughed. “In that tiny thing you call a car? No. Besides, my mom will want to make breakfast before she goes to church.”
The memory of Mrs. Carson’s biscuits made his mouth water. “Any way I can get an invite to that breakfast?”
Silence answered him.
“That’s okay. I’ll just meet you at my house.”
“No, Mom and Dad will want to see you. But you better be there by eight or there won’t be anything left.”
“I’ll be there on time. See you tomorrow.”
“I hope you sleep well tonight, Matt.”
He rubbed his thumb against the wood-grained steering wheel. It would probably be a long night. “I hear sleep is highly overrated.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m always glad if I get six hours,” she said with a soft chuckle.
Matt disconnected and inched out of the parking lot. He could see the full moon through the bare trees. He swallowed. Same moon as in Memphis, but somehow in Cedar Grove the cold beauty pricked his soul and filled him with regret.
At the road, he turned left, leaving the image behind. No doubt about it. He needed to finish his business and get out of Cedar Grove.
* * *
“H
URRY
,
IT
’
S
COLD
out here.” Ruth Carson held the back door open. “Let me help you with those packages.”
“Thanks.” Allie handed her two of the bags, and she and Noah followed her mother into the farmhouse. Inside the warm kitchen, the sweet scent of chocolate welcomed them.
“Noah, meet my mom, Mrs. Carson.” He hesitated before ducking his head in a nod, and she tried to see her mom from his eyes. Shorter than Allie’s five foot six, her mom wore jeans and a plaid shirt and a baker’s apron that had gingerbread men on it. Allie leaned over and whispered in his ear. “She won’t bite.”
He smiled. Barely. But he kept staring at his feet. Allie followed her nose to a platter of brownies on the island. “Mom, you’re sabotaging my diet,” she said, taking the thin jacket Noah shrugged out of. She made a mental note to get him a heavier coat.
“These aren’t for you.” Ruth placed two brownies on a saucer and held them out to Noah. “Would you like milk to go with them?”
He raised his head, caution flitting across his eyes. “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Carson.”
She tousled his hair. “All the kids call me Mrs. C. I hope you will, too.”
Allie broke a brownie in half. “Where’s Dad?”
“At the barn. He’s expecting a mare to foal tonight.”
“In January?”
“You tell the mare her cycle was wrong.”
Noah stared at them, his mouth forming a small
O
. “You have horses here?”
“We do. And in the morning, perhaps we’ll have a baby for you to meet.” Ruth removed her apron and hung it on a peg by the door. “As soon as you finish your snack, we’ll get your bath, and then you won’t have that to do before you go out to the barn tomorrow.”
Allie rinsed Noah’s new pajamas and threw them in the dryer while he took a bath. Later as he curled beside her on the leather couch that had been in her parents den since she was a teenager, she tried to relax, but her mind was having none of it.
The day had been like a ride on a Tilt-A-Whirl at the carnival. She didn’t know which was harder to process—Peter’s interest in her, or Matt’s change of heart with his family. She doubted both. And she couldn’t deny that being around Matt unsettled her and stirred up memories of the good times they had shared. They played in her head like a slide show.
Stop it.
“Did I do something wrong, Miss Allie?”
She hadn’t realized she said the words out loud. “No, Noah, I was just talking to myself.”
“I do that sometimes. The kids at school think I’m weird.”
She shifted on the soft leather couch and put her arm around his thin shoulders. “Then we both are.”
For a minute neither of them said anything. A log shifted in the fireplace, sending sparks up the chimney. She loved this room, the two recliners her mom and dad sat in, the current book her dad was reading on the table between them and her mom’s knitting in a basket on the floor. A grouping of prints adorned one wall, pictures she’d painted of the farm. On another wall was Clint’s first metal sculpture.
The room reflected her family’s personality. For some reason, she thought of Matt’s apartment and realized her problem with his decor. It had been wiped clean of his personality.
Noah pointed to the picture of a running horse. “I like that. I wish I had a horse.”
“That was mine when I was a little girl.”
“Cool.” His nose wrinkled in a frown. “Did someone paint that for you?”
“Me,” she said, pleased he liked it. Painting was her relief valve. A case like Noah’s would definitely send her searching for her oils and brushes. She rose from the couch and took down the painting so he could see it better.
Noah touched the canvas, brushing his finger over the horse’s nose. “What’s his name? Do you still have him?”
His questions tumbled together. Other than when he’d held the kitten, Allie hadn’t seen him this animated. “His name is Bridger, and he’s still here at the farm.”
“Do you think I can ride him sometime?”
“I don’t see why not.” Maybe Bridger could be his relief valve.
Noah yawned, and she said, “Let’s get you into bed, young man.”
Allie led the way to Clint’s old room. “You’re sleeping in my brother’s room.”
Noah climbed in bed, and she tucked him in. The bed dwarfed his small frame. “I’m just across the hall, so if you need anything, wake me up.”
He nodded. Sadness had settled in his face again.
“It’s going to be okay, Noah.”
He traced the plaid pattern on his sheet. A sigh settled in his shoulders. She waited, not wanting to push him.
Finally he looked up, his brows pinched. “Are we going to my house tomorrow?”