Hawks Mountain - Mobi (21 page)

At one point, and after a particularly hard whack on the head, she gave an involuntary yelp of pain. He slowed just a bit, grabbed her hand and said, “Sorry, love.”

Love.
There it was again. The pain in her head became insignificant in comparison to the flash of joy that swept through her. Did he mean it as a romantic endearment or was it just a word he used without thinking like pal, chum or buddy?

Before she could give it any serious consideration, they were pulling into the courthouse parking lot.
Lydia
and Davy stood on the front steps waiting for them. Davy, clutching his mother’s hand like a drowning man, looked so grownup in a navy blue suit, white shirt and a tie with a black Lab holding a pheasant in its mouth painted on it. His unusually pale cheeks held evidence of tears.
Lydia
, her expression as worried as Davy’s, had chosen a subdued dress of hunter green with a high neckline enhanced with a single strand of pearls.

“Thank God,” she said as they climbed the steps toward her. “I was so afraid I’d have to face this alone.” She dropped Davy’s hand and latched onto Becky’s and squeezed so hard, Becky was sure she’d have a couple of bruises to show for it tomorrow.

Becky smiled at the distraught woman. Knowing every judge has his own idea of how he ran his courtroom, she felt compelled to warn
Lydia
. “You need to be prepared for the possibility that they may not let Nick and me into the courtroom. Sometimes, the only people the judge wants present are the two parties named in the suit and their attorneys.”

Lydia
nodded and flashed a watery smile. “I know. But, if you can’t come in, I’ll feel better just knowing you’re outside the door.”

Nick checked his watch. He looked as strung out as Becky felt. “We better get inside.”

Davy sidled up next to Nick. This little boy who always seemed so happy and confident looked scared to death. He bit his bottom lip. His worried gaze assessed his mother. He patted her arm clumsily, trying to tell her with his wordless gesture that everything would be all right, even though it was plain to see that he had his doubts.

Then he slipped his small hand back into hers. “Come on, Mom, we gotta go.” He glanced nervously at Nick.

Nick placed a comforting hand on Davy’s shoulder and added a reassuring smile.

Their footsteps
on the wide, polished, pine boards echoed off the courtroom’s wood paneled walls, reminding Becky of the same hollow sound she’d always hated when she’d had to visit the
Atlanta
jail in conjunction with her job.

The courtroom, big, austere and formidable and almost identical to many others she’d been in, reeked of furniture polish and floor wax from a recent cleaning. Golden sunlight, streaming through the many windows parading along one wall, splashed brilliant puddles of light about the room. A huge oak edifice, perched on a raised platform at the very front, dominated everything else. The bench from which the decision would be handed down that would determine a mother’s and son’s future happiness. A small wooden plaque occupied a conspicuous place at the edge of the judge’s bench and, in gold letters, proclaimed that this court would be presided over by Judge Clayton Morris. Next to the bench, the witness stand, empty and bleak, awaited the first person who would either reinforce
Lydia
’s right to keep her son or tear him from her arms.

The only other people in the room,
Lydia
’s attorney, George’s attorney and George, sat at tables on the other side of the rail that separated the front of the courtroom, the
well,
from the spectators. Mayor Collins glanced at them and flashed an ingratiating smile in their direction as they made their way toward the front of the courtroom.

Instant dislike registered in Becky’s mind, and she had to wonder how such a distasteful man could have won enough votes to be elected mayor of
Carson
. Then again, perhaps he knew the right palms to grease.

Déjà vu
set in. A chill chased down Becky’s spine. This was the first time she’d been in a courtroom since Timmy had been handed over to his father, and Maria had collapsed during the reading of the court’s decision. Back then a man with means had swamped a woman barely getting by and the outcome had been disastrous. She prayed that this would not be a repeat.

Unexpectedly, Nick reached for Becky’s hand, almost as if he sensed her anguished thoughts. She looked up at him, and he smiled, just as he’d smiled at Davy, reassuring and silently promising that he’d be here for her no matter what. With his warm hand enclosing hers, she absorbed his steadying strength and the tension eased from her stiff limbs.

Lydia
joined her lawyer at the front table. Nick, Becky and Davy took their seats in the first row of the spectators’ area directly behind
Lydia
. They’d barely settled in when the bailiff came over to them. He leaned down and quietly addressed Nick. “Sir, the boy will have to wait outside in an anteroom with a matron.”

Davy’s expression turned to one of sheer panic. Tears filled his eyes. “Please, I don’t want to leave my mom. She’s really scared, and she needs me.”

“I’m sorry, son, but rules are rules,” the bailiff told him.

Lydia
stood, kissed Davy’s cheek and said, “
It’s
okay, baby. Nick and Becky will be here. You go with the man. I’ll see you in a little while.”

Davy hesitated, looking from one to the other of the people around him. Fear and panic filled his beautiful young face.

Nick put an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “It’s okay, sport. We’ll be here with your mom. You go with this man, and we’ll see you as soon as this is over.” Davy questioned Nick with a silent glance. Nick pulled the boy close to his chest, kissed the top of his head, and then released him. “Don’t worry. Becky and I will look after her for you. I promise.”

Becky’s heart swelled. How she loved this gentle, good man. He worried about people and took care of them. But she wouldn’t make the mistake of telling him so again. The last thing anyone needed right now was for Nick to slip into one of his dark moods.

After a moment’s hesitation, Davy leaned over and sandwiched his head between Nick’s and Becky’s. He dropped his voice to a quiet, wavering whisper. “Please, Mr. Nick, Miss Becky, tell the judge man that I don’t want to go with him.” He motioned with a jerk of his head toward his father.

Becky forced a smile. “We’ll make sure the judge knows that, Davy.”

Obviously still hesitant, he gave her a watery smile, and then stood and followed the bailiff from the courtroom. Tears welled in Becky’s eyes, but she forced them back. Instead of thinking about the drama to unfold shortly within these walls, she concentrated on inanities. The splash of sunlight on the judge’s bench looked like an outline of one of the seven dwarfs. The long, heavy burgundy drapes at the row of windows, faded from the sun and dusty from the dirt coming in from outside, needed laundering.

She ran her hand over the smooth surface of the railing in front of her and grasped at something she’d learned a long time ago about a courtroom. A friend had told her once that this wooden separation between the spectators and the attorneys, the judge and the court staff was really called
the bar.
Thus when an attorney had passed his bar exams and was qualified to practice law before a judge, he could step inside the railing or
pass the bar
.

A sound at the front of the room interrupted her disjointed thoughts. The door to the judge’s chambers had opened. The bailiff stepped forward and announced in stentorian tones, “All rise. The court of the Honorable Judge Clayton Morris is now in session.”

Taking a deep breath, Becky stood alongside Nick, reseating herself as soon as the judge had taken his place behind the bench. Judge Morris appeared to be in his mid-forties. A few gray hairs colored the sides of his otherwise dark brown, wavy hair. He appeared to be broad and well built under his black robes.

After shuffling through some papers, he briefly scanned those people present before him, then banged his gavel and announced unnecessarily to the silent room, “Please come to order.” His voice, while authoritative, didn’t sound harsh or arrogant. He looked over his wire-rimmed spectacles at his notes.
“In the case of Collins vs. Collins, Mr. Grayson representing Mr. Collins.
Mr. Mathews representing Mrs. Collins.”
He raised his gaze and centered it on the table where George sat, smug and grinning confidently, and addressed George’s lawyer. “Mr. Grayson, would you like to start?”

Nick took Becky’s hand and laced his fingers with hers. She glanced at him and was treated to one of his killer smiles. He tightened his grip as if to say
I’m here
. Until that very moment, she hadn’t realized how much she needed him beside her today.

Grayson stood, buttoned his immaculate, charcoal gray suit jacket and cleared his throat. “Thank you, your honor.” Picking up a yellow legal pad full of notes, he moved to the podium set up between the attorney’s tables. “Your Honor, Mr. Collins is seeking full custody of the minor child, David James Collins. Mr. Collins has been the mayor of
Carson
,
West Virginia
for—”

“Mr. Grayson.” Judge Mason peered at the lawyer over his spectacles. “Please don’t waste the court’s time and yours. I know why we’re here, who George is and what he does. I also have the list of reasons that I should grant custody to your client which you submitted to me in your brief as well as Mr. Mathew’s counter. I’ve read both thoroughly and do not need you to rehash it. It’s late, and the missus is waiting dinner for me. Do you have anything to add?”

Becky hid a smile behind her hand. Nick nudged her, but she could see he was also fighting a grin. Then she considered what the judge had just said, and all humor vanished.

The judge seemed in a rush to get this over with. Bowing her head she intoned a silent prayer.
Please don’t let him hurry through his decision without weighing all the facts carefully just because he wants to get home to dinner.

Grayson’s face flushed. “Of course,
Your
Honor.” He glanced at his legal pad. “I would like to add that since I filed my brief, Mrs. Collins has lost her job, and sources have reported that her house is in ill repair and not a suitable place for the boy to live.”

Becky bit her tongue to keep from speaking her thoughts.
Sources my foot.
He no doubt sent one of his minions to check it out.

“Very well.
Noted.”
Judge Morris wrote something on the papers before him, and then turned to
Lydia
’s attorney.
“Counsel?
Rebuttal?”

Nick dropped Becky’s hand, leaned forward and for several moments, whispered to
Lydia
’s attorney. Mathews turned, smiled at Nick and nodded. “Thanks.”

Judge Morris cleared his throat and glared impatiently over his glasses at
Lydia
’s attorney. “Mr. Mathews?”

Mathews jumped to his feet. “Your Honor, it has just come to my attention that not only is Mrs. Collins gainfully employed by station
WCWV
in
Charleston
, but her house has recently undergone extensive repairs by the gentleman sitting behind me.” He pointed over his shoulder at Nick.

George swung abruptly in their direction and if looks could kill, someone would have been ordering two pine boxes.

Judge Morris peered over Mathews’ head at Nick. “Sir, you
are .
 . . ”

Nick stood. “Nicholas Hart, Your Honor.”

“Is it true, Mr. Hart, that you’ve repaired Mrs. Collins house?’

“Yes, sir.
Miss Hawks and I repaired the roof, painted the house, re-hung the shutters and put up a new ceiling in the living room where the leaky roof had damaged it.” He started to sit, and then quickly stood again. “Oh, and for the record, I also procured the job for her and can verify her employment.”