The Dragon Heir (12 page)

The hearing was like a play:
everyone in costume, reading their lines, some better than others.

Ray McCartney was acting the
part of the country lawyer, all cardigan sweater and khakis, collared shirt and
holiday tie. He'd be representing Carlene for free, of course. He'd been in
love with her for as long as Madison could remember.

Carlene wore a gray dress and
jacket, pearls, and low-heeled pumps. She'd bought the outfit from Sears on
credit, since she had nothing like that in her closet. Madison had coaxed her
mother's blond curls into a French braid. That and her pink lipstick made her
look very young.

Madison had her own costume: a
long skirt and loose sweater, dark stockings and sober flats, her boisterous
hair jammed into a clip at the back of her neck.

I look like somebody's nanny,
she thought glumly.

They were gathered in a small
hearing room on the second floor of the red brick courthouse. It was three days
before Christmas and the snow swirled past the windows. Madison didn't look
forward to slip-sliding back up the mountain.

Aside from Madison and
Carlene, there was Ed Ragland, the county's first African American judge, who
always looked sleepy-eyed but was known to miss nothing. Bryson Roper, who
owned Roper Coal Company and all the land around Booker Mountain. And his son,
Brice, of course.

Mr. Roper was a roughneck turned
coal company owner. His expensive suit hung uneasily from his broad shoulders,
and his neck squeezed over his shirt collar. His eyes were the color of oak
leaves after a long winter on the ground. Around Coal Grove, people said he was
capable of almost anything, up to and including murder.

Brice splayed back in his
seat, legs extended, collar turned up. He was air-brushed handsome, like
someone in a department store ad. As if that wasn't enough, he emitted the
faint glow of wizardry.

He was the kind of boy parents
trusted. But shouldn't. He smiled over at Maddie, lifting his left hand to wave
at her, and her gut twisted up in the same old way. She'd been away nearly a
year, but nothing had changed.

Judge Ragland set the ground
rules. “This is just an informal hearing, what I like to call a
conversation with all the parties involved, so the court can find out the facts
in the case and decide what to do about Grace and John Robert.” He turned
to Brice. “Young Mr. Roper?”

Brice could tell a story,
Madison had to give him that. He explained that he'd been on his way home from
school when he saw a plume of smoke rising from the old Booker place. He
thought the house had caught fire, so he'd driven up there to find the shed
ablaze.

“Where were the children
at the time?” Judge Ragland asked.

“They were bringing water
from the pump. I tried to put out the fire, but the shed was pretty much gone.
I didn't know where Carlene—Mrs.
Moss—was. So I brought the kids back to our house.”

Ray McCartney leaned forward.
“So for all you knew, Mrs. Moss was somewhere on the property.”

“Well, no,” Brice
said, looking embarrassed he had to tell on Carlene. “The kids said she
was at work.”

“So did you take those
frightened children to their mama?” Ray asked softly.

Mr. Roper Senior took over.
“No, we turned them over to Child Welfare. Those children are left on
their own up there all the time,” he added. “It's time something was
done about it. People around here pay more attention to their dogs than she
does those kids.”

Judge Ragland peered over his
glasses, studying some papers on his desk. “Carlene, the report from Child
Welfare says these children have been removed from your home twice before for
cause. One time they were found wandering in downtown Coal Grove at two a.m.”

“That was the sitter's
fault,” Carlene said. “I couldn't help it. I was in Las Vegas.”

Ray gave Carlene a look. He'd
told her to keep quiet during the hearing unless he asked her a direct
question.

“I have to say, I'm
troubled, Carlene,” Judge Ragland said. “You've been in court several
times on account of Grace and John Robert, but nothing seems to change. Why
should I expect things to be any different from here on?”

Ray answered quickly,
“Your Honor, this episode was just a miscommunication. Ms. Moss's childcare provider
didn't show. She wasn't aware…”

“I asked Carlene,”
Judge Ragland said.

“You know I have to work
for a living,” Carlene replied. “It's hard to find a babysitter
who'll drive all the way up the mountain for what I can afford to pay.”

“Which is why you ought
to give up that place and move down into town,” Mr. Roper muttered,
looking up at the ceiling. “Those kids could have burned to death.”

Judge Ragland glared his
disapproval at Bryson Roper, and turned back to Carlene. “So what are you
going to do about it? I can't return these children to an unsafe
situation.”

Carlene gripped her pink purse
and leaned forward. “They're in school on weekdays. And Maddie'll watch
them after school and on the weekend. That'll give me time to make
arrangements.”

“Is that so,
Madison?”

All eyes were on Madison Moss.
She'd anticipated this. She knew she had no choice. “That's right,
sir.”

“You're sure now?”

Madison nodded.

“What about your school?
What are you, a senior?”

“That's all set up. I can
still graduate.”

Judge Ragland sighed and
stacked the papers on the table in front of him. “Here's my ruling then.
Child Welfare will retain oversight of the children, but we will release them
into your custody, Carlene, with the stipulation that Madison is available to
provide care for them while you are at work.”

Madison felt the pressure of
the judge's gaze, but she looked down at her lap.

“Madison, if the time
comes that you can't do that, you must notify the court. The court being me. In any
event, I'll see you all back here at the end of August.” He turned to his
bailiff. “Will you show the children in?”

Grace marched in, back
straight, chin raised high, like any ten-year-old queen, holding tight to John
Robert's hand. But when seven-year-old John Robert saw Maddie, he ripped free
and charged into her embrace.

“Maddie!” He wound
his fingers into her hair, tearing it free of its clip.

Madison hugged him fiercely,
pulling his solid little body onto her lap. Someone had glued down his blond
curls with gel, plastering them over to the side. He was wearing a
red-and-white-striped collared shirt and red pants. He looked like a cherubic
used-car salesman.

Grace must've refused the
fashion makeover, since she was wearing her own clothes, and her fine brown
hair was pulled into its usual pony tail. She gave Brice Roper her patented
look that would curdle sweet milk, and turned to Judge Ragland. “I want to
charge this man with kidnapping.” She jerked her head at Brice, who looked
like he had something to say but thought better of it and shut his mouth.

“That's a serious charge,
young lady,” Judge Ragland began.

“An old shed caught fire
on our property, and my brother and I were putting it out, when he showed
up. We might've saved it if it wasn't for him. And then he drug us down the mountain
and put us in jail.”

“Is that so?” Judge
Ragland looked over at Brice, who rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Anyway, you ought to
make him pay for the shed,” Grace concluded, giving Brice the eye.

“I'll take that under
advisement, Grace,” Judge Ragland said. “Meaning, I'll think about it. In the
meantime, you go on home with your mama and mind her, hear me?”

He looked at Carlene, shaking
his head. “Carlene, you're raising lawyers. Heaven help you.”

With that, the hearing was
over.

Ray McCartney patted Madison
on the shoulder. “Good work, Maddie. Glad you're home.”

But when Madison tried to give
Grace a hug, her slender body was stiff and resistant.

She's mad at me for going
away, Madison thought. She thinks it's my fault she ended up in kid jail.

Madison turned around and
nearly ran into Brice Roper. “Hey, Madison, what's up?” he said.
Running a hand through his artfully tousled brown hair, he grinned. That smile
had charmed every girl in the Roaring Fork Valley, but it sent worms squirming
down Madison's back. “We've missed you,” he said. “Everyone says
so,” he added, apparently speaking for the entire Coalton County High
School senior class. Of which he was president.

Madison folded her arms and
tapped her foot on the weathered wood floor. “I'll bet they do.” They
had to find somebody else to talk
about and blame things on.

Brice smiled down at her, and
she took an involuntary step back. He always seemed to be crowding her, taking
up more than his allotted space.

“So,” he said,
perfectly aware of the effect he was having. “When are you coming back to
school?”

She shook her head. “I'm
not. I'm … um … being home-schooled. It's a distance course.” So I can
keep my distance from all of you.

He stared at her a moment, a
slight frown on his face, like he didn't know whether to believe her or not.
“That's too bad. Well, listen, I'll call you, then. We can hang out. I'll
introduce you around,” he added.

Un. Be. Lievable. After
everything that had happened, Brice Roper was hitting on her. Again. For a
minute she was speechless, the words seeming to stop up in her mouth. “Why…thanks
so much, but I'm from here, I don't really need an introduction.”
In fact, there were people she'd like to be unintroduced to. Guess who
was top of the list?

“Besides, I'm going to be
really busy, and, anyway, we don't have a phone right now.”

“Right,” he said.
“Carlene's been using our phone a lot. Stop by and use it any time you
want. I'm usually home in the afternoon unless there's something at
school.” He reached out and lightly brushed back her hair with his hand.

She slapped his hand away and
he caught hold of her wrist, his face flushing to the color of old brick.

Bryson Senior spoke from the
doorway. “Brice. What the hell are you doing? Come on. We're late
already.” He pointed at his watch, turned, and stalked out the door.

Madison looked back at Brice
in time to see hatred pass across his face before he swept it clean. He let go
of her wrist. “I'll be seeing you,” he said, and turned away.

Not if I see you first,
Madison thought.

“What did young Brice
want?” Carlene asked as they descended the broad, shallow steps of the
courthouse, Ray trailing hopefully behind.

“He wanted me to know
everybody misses me.”

“I believe he has a crush
on you, Madison,” Carlene said, reapplying her lipstick without breaking
stride. “That boy has a hungry look.”

“Mama. Just…don't.”

“They say the Ropers have
scads of money.”

“They say a lot of
things.” Too much and too often. “Gramma Min told me to steer clear
of him.”

Carlene shrugged. “She
never liked any of my boyfriends, either.”

Ray followed them all the way
to the car, buzzing around like a locust in summer. Carlene handed Ray the
brush and he cleared snow off the car while she started the engine.

“I'll get the terms of
the custody ruling in writing and get back to you on that,” Ray was
saying. “When's your birthday, Maddie?”

“Not till August.”

“As long as you'll be
here, we can arrange the paperwork so we're ready to transfer the deed to the
house and all whenever you turn eighteen.” Ray was the executor of Min's
estate.

“I still don't know why
Min would leave you the mountain,” Carlene muttered. “I'm her
daughter.”

“Because if she'd left it
to you, it'd be gone already.”

Carlene shut up, then,
fumbling for a cigarette, lower lip trembling.

There goes your wicked tongue
again, Madison thought. Min always said you never could suffer a fool.

Carlene worked a shift that
night, so after supper Madison helped John Robert with his bath, washing the
foster-mom gel out of his hair and letting it dry into its natural ringlets.

While he brushed his teeth,
Madison dug the Christmas presents out of her duffle and laid them under the
artificial tree in the front room. She'd bartered for most of it with the Trinity Square
merchants. There was a CD player for J.R., a handwoven shawl for Grace, and a
bracelet for Carlene.

Pulling on her coat, she
walked out onto the porch. She rested her hands on the splintered porch
railing, and breathed in the raw cold like a tonic. Lights glittered in the
valley below. Off to the left, Booker Creek worried over stones and whispered
secrets on its way down the mountain.

She explored the vacancy left
by Seph's absence, like she might the space once occupied by a broken-off
tooth. He was a constant presence in her peripheral vision, tall and silent and
accusing, pale face framed in a tangle of curls. But he disappeared each time
she turned her head.

There was something else, now,
too. Ever since the encounter in the church basement, the Dragonheart seemed to
be constantly on her mind, filling any unoccupied space, like images of
fireworks seared into her retinas.

Navigating the crumbling stone
steps, Madison crossed the side yard to where the charred remains of the shed
huddled next to the greenhouse. Carlene had left the wooden bones to molder.

Her great-great-grandfather
had shaped the timbers with a hand axe. Had laid the stones of the foundation
higher at one end to account for the slope of the land.

Madison knelt and poked
through the ashes with a stick, hoping not to find any witch signs.

A slight sound behind Madison
alerted her to the fact that she was not alone. She stood and turned. It was
Grace, who still couldn't decide if she was speaking to Madison or not.