A Family for Tyler

“The judge has it. I’ve hired a private detective to look for his mother, but he hasn’t come up with anything.”

“I’m still confused as to how she found you.”

He sighed. Might as well get the tongue-lashing over with.

“She didn’t. She sent the letter, registered, to Mom’s place. As executor, all the mail’s being forwarded to me, so it came here.”

“Gotcha.” Addie sipped her tea thoughtfully. He was surprised when she didn’t say more, like “Why didn’t you call me?” or “Don’t you think I should take care of him?” The thought of Addie taking Tyler home with her twisted something inside him. Wyatt didn’t like admitting it, but he was getting attached to the kid.

“So tell me about this judge.” Addie interrupted his thoughts.

“What’s there to tell?”

“What’s she like? I need a little preparation. She’s going to be here tomorrow to scrutinize everything about us, about this place. We have to be ready.”

“I know that.” He set his cup down and stared at it for a long minute. “She’s younger than I expected. I pictured some crotchety old goat of a judge, like half the other judges in the county. But she’s probably our age. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Smart. She listened to everything Tyler had to say. She’s got a way with kids.”

Silence permeated the room. And then Addie laughed. “What?” Wyatt frowned at her.

“You’re attracted to her.”

“I— What are you talking about?” Wyatt felt the heat rise up his neck. “You asked what she’s like,” he accused.

“I asked about her as a judge. You just described her as a woman.”

“I—” This time he didn’t even bother to deny or say anything. What was the use? It’d be a lie. He was attracted to her. Damn it.

“Oh, this is good.” Addie leaned back, obviously enjoying the moment. Her grin widened.

“Stop it, Addie. This is serious.”

“Oh, I’m definitely serious. You know, big brother—” She’d always loved reminding him of that relationship at times like this. “You could make this work. Is she attracted to you?”

“Addie!”

“What? I’m only looking at the realities. Come on, Wyatt. You’re single. Good-looking. Available. Wine and dine her, for God’s sake. Win her over.”

“I can’t believe my sister actually paid me a compliment.” He turned away and shook his head, but not before he felt a flash of guilt. He’d already thought about and discarded the idea Addie was suggesting.

The silence grew long before Addie spoke again, and her words came out soft. “What if she comes back?” Addie sat quietly sipping her tea, not meeting Wyatt’s eyes.

“Who?” he asked, knowing full well who Addie meant. “The judge?”

“Don’t be obtuse.” Addie suddenly shot to her feet and moved to the fridge. She opened the door and stared inside.

“What are you looking for?” They’d just finished dinner. Addie wasn’t hungry. She was anxious despite the usually relaxing tea. Wyatt sat for a moment watching her.

“Nothing.” She closed the door and sat back down, only to squirm in her chair.

Something about all this was bugging Addie, something more than the judge’s impending visit. Something about Tyler had set Addie on edge, had turned his normally calm and together sister into someone he barely recognized. “You gonna tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I—” Finally, she looked up. Wyatt was shocked to see a flash of deep pain run through her eyes. “What if DJ doesn’t make it home?”

“Is that what all this fidgeting is about? Don’t think about that. He’ll come home safe.” Even Wyatt doubted his own words.

Addie curled her fingers around the mug, not lifting it to her lips, just staring into the cooling contents. “His mother could come back at any time and take him.”

“Yes, she could,” Wyatt admitted, reaching across the table to cover Addie’s hand with his. “But legally, she can’t. She abandoned him, and the judge wants this custody to be permanent. I agree.”

She sighed, breathing deeply, before looking at him again. That look struck a note inside Wyatt. This was his family, and while Tammie Easton had given birth to DJ’s child, he didn’t see where she had any place here. She’d given up that right.

The protective instinct that was so ingrained in Wyatt surged to the surface. “She shows up here and she’ll have one hell of a fight on her hands.” He spoke the words loud and strong, ignoring the doubt they covered.

He could fight her, legally, but what would that do to Tyler? What would DJ do? He’d obviously felt something for the woman at some point. What would he feel once he learned she’d kept his son a secret for eight years?

With a curse, Wyatt rose to his feet and dumped the rest of his coffee down the drain. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

He shoved the screen door open, letting it slap shut behind him. The night engulfed him within only a few feet, but he didn’t have to see where he was going. He knew the path to the barn well.

His eyes easily adjusted, and he soon could make out the forms of the barn, the stable, the corral, the garage. Movement caught his eye and a sense of relief washed over him. His feet made their own way to the corral fence. Prism waited for him. The beautiful white horse shook its big shaggy head, greeting Wyatt as it always did. A friend saying hello.

“I should’ve brought you a treat, huh, boy?” Wyatt whispered and rubbed the smooth brow. Long minutes passed. The horse’s breathing, the distant croaks of the frogs down at the pond, the faint whisper of something—probably a rabbit in the grasses—soothed him. He closed his eyes and took it all in, letting home comfort him.

Addie’s question haunted him. What if Tyler’s mom did come back? What would he do?

“You up for a ride, boy?” He patted Prism’s neck and the horse seemed to nod his agreement. “Come on.” Wyatt opened the gate and just as he had dozens of times before, he climbed up on the horse’s bare back, hanging on to the thick mane. “Let’s go.”

This was no orderly canter; they both knew this. Prism knew him. Prism understood. And Prism ran. As if the troubles of the world were on his tail. Just as Wyatt wanted and needed.

* * *

FROM HIS PERCH on the dresser by the windowsill, where he’d climbed after Aunt Addie and Uncle Wyatt had gone to the kitchen, Tyler stared out across the yard at the starry sky. He’d waited until they’d walked down the hall to open his eyes. Playing possum, as Mama called it, had let him learn lots of things grown-ups didn’t tell him.

He could still hear Uncle Wyatt talking. Aunt Addie seemed nice enough, but her questions worried him. Especially the ones about Mama.

Tyler liked Wyatt. Liked him a lot. For an instant, his view wavered, and he rubbed the heel of his hand against his right eye, then his left.

He refused to cry. Big boys didn’t cry, Mama had always said. Then she would describe how Tyler’s dad was big and tough and strong. He was a soldier, and Tyler didn’t think soldiers ever cried.

Was his dad like Wyatt? Tyler wondered. They were brothers. Tyler wondered what it would be like to have a brother. He thought he might like it. Sisters, he wasn’t so sure about. Sometimes, he thought, he’d just like to have someone around when he was lonely.

He hadn’t felt lonely since Uncle Wyatt had come and gotten him, though. But the lady judge scared him. He didn’t want to be alone again. He’d tried really hard to make her understand that he wanted to stay with Uncle Wyatt, that he wanted to get to know his dad when he got home. And that Mama wasn’t bad; she just had stuff to take care of.

That word, abandoned, didn’t sound good. Uncle Wyatt’s frown had told Tyler he agreed with the lady judge. But Mama hadn’t left him forever. No, his heart cried. She’d be back. He knew she’d come back. She’d promised him.

But would she even know where he was? Panic made him hiccup and his eyes watered again. Aunt Addie had asked Uncle Wyatt about Mama’s letter and he’d said it had been delivered someplace else. Was that where Mama would go to get him? But he wasn’t there—what if she couldn’t find him?

Tyler scrambled off the ledge and reached for his jeans. In the right front pocket he pulled out the one thing he hadn’t shown anyone.