A Family for Tyler. Angel Smits

ma’am. But the father left without knowing the boy existed. That’s not been set up.”

      Emily looked over at the man. His jaw moved and he seemed to want to speak. She held up a hand. She needed to think without being interrupted. “Temporary custody isn’t an option here.” She met both the attorney’s and the man’s stares, daring them to disagree. “I’ll only grant permanent custody.” There needed to be someone there for the long haul, someone who’d be there when the parents didn’t show up or take on their responsibilities.

      “No!” Tyler spoke for the first time.

      Emily looked down at the boy, who seemed unable to remain in control any longer. “Don’t you want to have your uncle as your guardian?” Images of The Boys Home flashed in her mind and she cringed. Families needed to stay together.

      “I don’t want it to be forever.”

      “Why not?”

      “Mama’s coming back. She promised.”

      Emily’s heart broke and hurt for the boy. This was part of why she hated juvenile cases. People didn’t keep promises, and unless she forced them to, this boy would end up a ward of the court like so many before him. No, this man needed to be held accountable and not just for the short-term.

      She drummed her fingers on the desktop and leaned forward in her chair. “Young man, why don’t you come up here so you and I can talk?”

      Tyler glanced up at his uncle, the apprehension strong in his eyes.

      “Go on, Tyler. It’s okay,” the man urged, his big hands patting the boy’s shoulder.

      “Right here.” Emily tore her gaze away from the poignant sight and walked down the two steps to stand beside the witness chair. Tyler walked slowly toward her, and she helped him climb up into the high seat.

      “There, now I can see you better.” She smiled to reassure him.

      “I can see you better, too.” He grinned and her heart caught. He was going to be a looker someday, and the resemblance to his uncle was all too close. She cleared her throat and her mind. “So, Tyler. Do you know why your mom left?”

      He shrugged. “Nope. She just said I’d be better off and safer with my dad.”

      “Not your uncle?”

      “We didn’t know my dad was gone.”

      Emily nodded, not pleased with the lack of family connections.

      “Does your mom have family?”

      Tyler nodded. “Grandpa and Grandma Easton are old. Too old, Mama said, for a boy like me. My aunt Nancy has two kids. Mama said they caused enough headaches since Uncle Willie left last year.”

      This story just got better. Emily realized his mother—Tammie, was that her name?—would have no secrets if Tyler knew them. She could pump him for information, but didn’t think she needed to. Not yet, anyway. The knowledge did give her a higher level of comfort.

      She looked back at Wyatt Hawkins. “Do you know any of these people?”

      He shook his head. “I’m in the process of trying to find them. No luck yet.”

      “Keep looking,” she instructed then turned back to Tyler. “So you’ve never met your dad?”

      “Nope. But Mom told me lots of things. And I have stuff that proves I’m his kid.” The boy’s chin notched up.

      “You do?”

      “Uh-huh.” Slowly, Tyler stood and reached into the bulging pockets of his jeans. He pulled out a couple plastic lizards, an old playing card and a key that had been wound with neon-green yarn. “This is stuff Mama said my dad gave her.”

      She couldn’t wait to hear this one. “What are they?”

      “These two lizards are like the ones on the beach where they met. In Florida.” He handed Emily each one very carefully. “This is a card from when they played stip poker.”

      “Stip?” She nearly bit her tongue. She shouldn’t have asked but the question just came out.

      “Yeah. When you bet your clothes.”

      Emily was proud of herself for not reacting, though she heard a stifled groan come from his uncle. “And the key?”

      “She said it went to somethin’ he had back home where he kept his really special stuff.”

      Emily took the key and held it up. “Do you recognize this, Mr. Hawkins?”

      He was looking at them both, his gaze intense, and he squinted at the key. She walked over to the table where he sat and handed him the key. He turned it over a couple times.

      “Yeah.” His voice broke. “It goes to Dad’s old shop.”

      His voice sounded sad and wistful. For a long minute, she looked down at the seated man, realizing that she had possibly misjudged him. He tilted his head back and their gazes clashed.

      There was no angry glare, no macho attitude. Just emotions she couldn’t quite identify, and a pleading question. Her gut told her he was a good man. She swallowed, uncomfortable with the idea. To give herself a moment to think, she walked slowly back up to the judge’s seat.

      “I’ll make you a deal.” She faced Tyler, hoping she wouldn’t regret this, and made an offer. “I’ll make it provisional. If at any time, either of your parents returns, we can meet again. Okay?”

      Tyler responded, “What’s ‘probisional’ mean?”

      “It means it can be changed,” she explained. “But until they come back, your uncle’s responsible for you.”

      “It’ll work out, Ty,” the man mumbled as if he didn’t want her to hear. She appreciated his reassurances to the boy, but she couldn’t quite let herself believe him. The expression on the boy’s face told her that he wasn’t buying it, either.

      “And—” she said.

      The man stared at her.

      “Until the caseworker is back to work, I want you to meet with me. I’ll be your caseworker for now.”

      “Your Honor, that’s rather irregular,” the counselor objected.

      “I don’t much care. This case doesn’t make me comfortable. Until it does, I’ll keep an eye on things. Write up the orders, counselor, and I’ll sign them. Anything else?”

      “No, Your Honor.”

      “We’re adjourned.” Emily stood and didn’t bother to look back at the man or the boy. She needed to keep a clear head in her work and that small face and those reassuring hands were already tugging at something she never allowed in her courtroom.

      Her heart.

      CHAPTER THREE

      A WEEK LATER, Wyatt found himself headed toward the county court offices. The building was old. Not ancient old as to be pretty, but built-in-the-1970s old, with harvest-gold siding. Wyatt stared at the ugly-as-sin building and frowned. Why had the judge asked to see him without Tyler? What was she up to?

      Not knowing the answer made him uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. He’d climbed out of his truck into the late-spring heat and headed for the glass doors. By the time he entered the cool air-conditioned inside, he was irritated.

      He hadn’t dealt much with the legal system—that was his brother Jason’s arena—but he’d been in the cattle industry a long time, so he had plenty of experience with government agencies. This felt very similar.

      Hat in hand, the brim cupped in his wide palm, he took a calming breath and approached the desk. The brunette sitting there looked up at him over a pair of half glasses that seemed to practically glow in the dark.