Tucker's Crossing (40 page)

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Authors: Marina Adair

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Tucker's Crossing
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“What about JT?”

Shelby breathed in deep, carefully weighing her words, not wanting to lie to him any more than she had to. He just looked so—untouchable.

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.
If she broke down, and he saw her tears, he would know something was wrong and everything would be ruined.

Shelby finally settled on, “I packed him up this morning,”

“Come on, love,” Preston interrupted, slinging an arm over her shoulders in a sign of ownership. Shelby tried not to flinch at his touch and could only hope that she managed it. “Time to get going.”

“If you think I’ll just let you walk away with my son, then think again.” Cody’s voice was low, lethal. And although he was looking at Shelby, his words were directed at Preston. “I will come at you with everything I have. And I will win.”

And he would. And with that one vow, Shelby found a calming peace in the net of fierce protectiveness Cody cast over Jake. That was what she had been waiting for. All the confirmation she needed.

Shelby couldn’t help but take a step forward, disengaging herself from Preston, to go up on her toes and take a long, lingering look at Cody. “I know.”

And Shelby gave him one last, gentle brush of the lips.

An hour, a day, a year. Hell, Cody didn’t know. Time had expanded and contracted so often since he’d watched Shelby climb into Preston’s car and disappear down the drive, he had to check the clock on the mantel over the fireplace to be sure.

Nineteen minutes had passed. Nineteen minutes of wondering what the hell had happened, what the hell he was going to do, and how the hell he’d pull himself out of bed tomorrow and go on living like his life hadn’t just ended.

Sitting in his old man’s chair, cold beer in hand, his mama’s engagement ring in the other, Cody replayed it again. Nope, still didn’t make sense.

“Shit.” Cody stuck the ring back in the box and tossed it on the coffee table.

Shoving back in the chair, he leaned his head against the seatback. His eyes moved around the room, trying to piece together some semblance of calm.

Settling his gaze on a picture of his old man, Cody lifted the bottle and took a draining pull. And for the first time in twenty years, Cody understood what had driven his dad to drink. If he’d hurt half as much as Cody did right now, then he actually pitied the guy.

Cody set the empty bottle on the end table and considered getting himself another, or maybe going straight for a bottle of Jack, when he realized there wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to erase her memory.

A stack of books sat next to him. Picking up the top one, he thumbed through it, and found himself nearly smiling. The idea that his dad had read all seven of these to JT, sitting right here in this chair, talking wizards and spells, was enough to ground Cody. If Silas could find the strength to give up the booze and be a granddad to JT, then Cody would find a way to make this place into a home. Then he’d take Preston to court, and win, bringing his son back to The Crossing, and provide Jake with the kind of childhood that he deserved.

A series of knocks sounded, loud and shrill and one more annoying than the next. Cody dropped the book in defeat. He just wanted to be alone in his misery. Read a little
Harry Potter
. Figure out his next step.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Luella snapped. Her wide hips swayed with every reprimanding tap of her orthopedic-shoed foot. Cody couldn’t tell if she was just being ornery or if she was plotting where to hide his body.

Not willing to take that chance—or any of her crap today, Cody said, “You’re fired.” He opened the book again, turned to page one, and leaned back in the recliner, kicking up the footrest. “No, wait, send whoever it is away, then you’re fired.”

“And you’re a damn fool,” Luella squawked, annoying as hell, determined to make his day that much worse. “You’re the south end of a northbound mule!” Luella took off her apron, folded it into a perfect square, twice, and set it on the back of the chair, smoothing out any imaginary crease she saw. “You tell her yourself. ’Cuz I quit!”

And with that, Ms. Luella stormed out, taking his mama’s ceramic rooster with her.

Cody closed the book, Luella’s words replaying in his head. She’d said
her
, meaning it could be Shelby at the door. Cody sprang from the chair and got to the door in record time, kicking himself even as he did it.

But instead of the biggest blue eyes in Texas staring up at him, Cody found himself staring down at a petite blonde with a metal briefcase in hand, the personality of a razor, and a look that said she was fixing to hang someone. And maybe she was.

“Cody.”

“Gina.” Not giving a rat’s ass that he was being rude, Cody leaned against the door frame, folded his arms, ignoring her proffered hand.

With a slight shrug, she dug through her briefcase, at last offering Cody her business card. He didn’t know what she was selling, didn’t care, really. But he was certain whatever it was, he wasn’t interested. “Actually, it’s Regina Echols, attorney-at-law.”

Damn you, Shelby!

Cody straightened, uncrossed his arms, and with a blatant screw-you nod, grabbed the door by its edge, and slammed it shut with a resounding thud.

“It’s about Jake.” Gina sounded surprisingly intimidating and incredibly pissed, despite the wood door between them.

Not wanting to open the door but knowing he’d go mad if he didn’t hear her out, Cody resigned himself to five minutes, and held open the door in what had to be the most unwelcoming gesture of welcome in Tucker’s Crossing history.

“You have five minutes.”

“May I come in.” It wasn’t a question. It was assertive and professional—and a little bit intimidating, if Cody were being honest.

“Time’s a-wasting, Counselor.”

“Stop being such an ass and let me in. I could lose my career for being here.”

That
got his attention. Gina squeezed past him with a little unnecessary shoving, a jab to the kidneys, and he shut the door.

“Four minutes.”

“This morning, Shelby showed up on my porch in a panic. She had me write up these.” She pulled a contract from her briefcase and handed it to him.

“Let me guess, she wants money?”

Gina’s face puckered, hardened, and for a minute he thought the attorney-at-law might slap him. On second thought, she seemed more of the knee-to-the-groin type.

“By signing these, you will become Jake’s legal guardian and parent. Shelby wanted him to grow up here, at the ranch. With you.”

“What’s going on and where’s my son?” Cody demanded.

“You shouldn’t yell at a lady,” Ms. Luella said from the couch. Cody hadn’t even seen her enter the room. And there she was, sitting as pleased as punch, tub of popped corn in her lap, sweet tea in hand, watching the drama unfold.

“I thought you quit.”

“Did. Now I’m watching you make an even bigger ass out of yourself.”

“Sign the damn papers, Cody. That way I can pick up Jake and bring him here and Shelby’s life can officially turn to complete shit,” Gina snapped. Luella popped some corn into her mouth, eyes glued to Gina, took a sip of tea, and waited.

Then it hit him. “And she’s signing over full custody to me?”

“No.”

“No?”

“God, save me from thick-headed men! Maybe if I grunt a lot and run around making charade gestures with my hand you’ll get it.” Gina paused again, her thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose. “The question you should be asking, Mister Tucker,” she said in the tone of a third-grade teacher speaking to her severely deficient class, “is why would Shelby give up her son, the child she sacrificed everything for, without a fight?”

She paused again, throwing her hands dramatically in the air, paced and then took a breath. When she finally spoke her voice softened. “Do you love her?”

“What?”

Gina made a series of hand gestures, one more offensive that the last, when she said, “Do. You. Love. Her?”

“With everything that I am.”
Holy shit. He loved Shelby. He loved her and he’d let her go. Again.

“Lord have mercy,” Luella sighed dreamily, hand over her heart, shaking her head like she was watching the royal wedding, lost in the romance of it all, while popping one more handful of corn into her mouth.

“Is she in trouble?”

“She wouldn’t tell me everything. Maybe because she knew it would piss me off. But most likely because she knew I’d come here, even though I’m legally bound to remain silent. I
can
tell you she didn’t want to leave you and that she was terrified. For both you and Jake. That’s all I got.”

“All you got? Dammit, Gina, that was enough to get you disbarred,” Logan said from the now-opened door. He was holding Sam by the scruff of the shirt and shooting Gina a pissed-to-hell look. “Not to mention you work for the county, and taking on a civilian case goes against your station.”

Gina shrugged. “Sue me.”

Logan looked up to the heavens and exhaled slowly. Cody knew just how the guy felt. Then the sheriff shoved Sam, who looked like he’d been on the losing end of a fight, through the threshold. “Sam has something he’d like to say.”

Sam looked at Cody, then the ground. Logan gave him an encouraging shove. Sam took off his hat. “I’m sorry, Cody.” A rock settled in his gut at the man’s tone. “All I was supposed to do was make the ranch lose money so he could buy the land from Silas real cheap. Then he’d make me a partner.”

“Who the hell is
he
?”

“Mr. Parnell.”

Cody swore, loudly. And to think, just last night he’d given Sam a pass on the past. His head began to ache and in a way so did his heart. Then he remembered Shelby’s room, the way she shook in his arms and he wanted to kill the man.

“Reel it in, Cody,” Logan warned. “We need him conscious to talk. After that, I don’t care what the hell you do with him.”

Sam flinched, going pale. Cody took a threatening step forward, making the man’s face drain completely. “Did you trash Shelby Lynn’s room?”

“God, no. That was Tommy.” Sam stopped, tight-lipped.

“Go on, Sam,” Logan strongly encouraged. “You’re already sunk; the more you help us, the easier we’ll go.”

Sam closed his eyes, as if accepting his fate. “I want to make sure Emily is taken care of.”

“Done,” Cody said. “Now tell me what I want to know.”

“Parnell said all I had to do was make a dent in the profit that wasn’t traceable. Anything to make the land less valuable. The herds were sold for less than they were worth. The grain and equipment bought for more. A few steers got lost along the way.” He shrugged. “It got easier. Toward the end, your daddy couldn’t really keep up with things—”

“And you stepped right in, like the good man that you are. But when he died your plans got screwed.”

“We figured you’d either want to sell it off cheap or forfeit.”

Something still didn’t add up. “If I forfeited, how would that help you? Is Parnell the unnamed beneficiary?”

“No, JT is.”

Cody felt his hands tighten and his chest expand to take on more oxygen, preparing for battle. “You were going to come at my son?”

“No, when you didn’t leave, I called Parnell and he said there was a change of plans, but you fired me before I could find out more.” Cody covered the distance between them quickly. Sam shuffled back, bumping into Logan. “Look, Cody, you got to understand. Emily was sick and the insurance your daddy had us on only covered part of her medication. I spent most of my life working this ranch, and he wouldn’t even lend me the money I needed for her to see a specialist in Austin. I did what I had to do for my family.”

“Yeah, well you fucked with mine and that I can’t overlook.” Cody stopped so close he could feel Sam tremble slightly. He said nothing, just stared him down, wanting nothing more than to destroy him.

“Cody, I know you want to kick his ass,” Gina said, touching his arm. “I know I do. But then we’d both wind up in jail because Mr. Letter of the Law over there,” she scowled at Logan, “would arrest both of us. Then we’d be bunkmates, and I snore. I’d have to take advantage of you when you dropped the soap, and even though Shelby says you’re a god in bed, I really don’t want to go there.”

Cody slid Gina a glance. “God, huh?”

Gina shrugged, as if not in the least bit impressed.

Cody looked back at Sam, his words from the other night playing in his head. “You were right last night. I’m not my old man.” And he walked away. “Lucky you.”

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he dialed Noah and skipped the greeting. Noah listened, his silence lasting throughout the entire explanation of the morning and continued right on through to Shelby’s signing over custody and Sam selling them out.

Noah, it seemed, had been pretty busy himself, digging deep into Preston’s life: his divorce, his mistresses, and his business.

“Seven years ago, Preston Van Warren became involved in some real-estate deal, five miles of undeveloped, water-locked land south of Baja. Right after Shelby left, the deal fell through.” Cody pressed the phone harder against his ear. “Preston lost everything. And guess who his legal counsel was?”

“Parnell. That son of a bitch lied. He knew exactly who the beneficiary was and has been working for Preston this whole time,” Cody growled, that rock in his stomach becoming almost suffocating. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?” And he had a feeling it was bad.

“I got ahold of JT’s birth certificate.”

Cody turned his back on the room and lowered his voice. “And?”

When Noah finally spoke, he sounded pained. “Preston is listed as JT’s father.”

Cody felt like he’d been sucker-punched. Shelby had admitted that she’d needed Preston’s health insurance and support. Had she really agreed to falsify JT’s birth certificate?

He turned to Gina. “Did Shelby convince Preston to give up custody?”

Cody’s heart pounded a few dozen times before she spoke. “She is giving up
her
rights to Jake and turning them over to you.”

“Gina,” Logan warned.

“What?” she snapped. “I was sent here to say that. Don’t go all big brother on me now!” She looked back to Cody. “You and Preston would remain equal guardians over Jake until he turns eighteen.”

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