Father to Be (44 page)

Mary Therese was the D.A.’s only witness. Jillian called each of the kids, who said yes, they wanted to stay with
J.D. Next she called an interesting mix of character witnesses—Bud, Miss Corinna, Mitch Walker, and Alanna Dalton among them. Everyone said what a nice guy he was, how much they liked and respected him, how they couldn’t imagine anyone better to take care of the Brown children.

It was heartwarming, J.D. thought sadly as the last witness left the stand, but it wasn’t enough. If he’d been called as an expert witness, there strictly as a psychiatrist to determine whether an alcoholic—even one who hadn’t had a drink in two years, four months, and counting—whose own son refused to live with him should have custody of four children not his own, he would side with Mary Therese.

If he was going to get the kids back, it would depend on his testimony. He would need the most eloquent, most persuasive arguments he could come up with, but his mind was blank. All he could think was that he was losing the kids and he might have already lost Kelsey, and then what would he have?

He was staring bleakly at the scarred oak table when the bailiff came in and handed a note to Julian. She scanned it, spoke to the man, then faced the judge. “Your Honor, for my next witness I’d like to call J. D. Grayson.” When he started to stand, she laid a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. “The third.”

J.D. jerked around in his chair as the door at the back of the courtroom opened. Earl and Bev Whittaker came in first, followed by Kelsey—beautiful Kelsey, who hadn’t let him down at all—and, beside her, a tall, slender, dark-haired young man. He was the most incredible person J.D. had seen in his life.

As Trey approached the front, his gaze met J.D.’s and the faintest of smiles touched his mouth. J.D. dumped back in his chair, barely noticing when Kelsey sat down
behind him, when she laid her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

His
son.
She’d brought him his son.

Julian approached the witness stand. “Your name is J. D. Grayson the third. What do you prefer to be called?”

“I go by Trey.” His voice was deeper than before and sounded remarkably grown-up. His little boy
had
grown up, J.D. thought with a bittersweet ache, and he’d missed it. All of it.

“What is your relationship to Dr. Grayson?”

Trey glanced his way again. “He’s my father.”

“But you don’t live with him, do you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Why not?”

“When my mother died, I blamed him. She was killed in a car wreck, and he was driving, and I thought it was his fault because”—he nervously glanced J.D.’s way, then turned his attention back to Jillian—“because he was drunk. After that he had to go away, to get help for his drinking, and I stayed with my mom’s parents. I still live with them.”

“And do you still blame your father for your mother’s death?”

Trey looked at him then, really looked. J.D. felt as if his answer could make or break his life. Then the boy returned his attention to Jillian. “No.”

“Why not? What’s changed?”

He shrugged. “Everything, I guess. Me. Him. I’m not still mad. He’s not still drinking. I’ve grown up. I think maybe he’s not so grown-up.”

“And is that a good thing?”

Trey chuckled. It was an amazing sight. “Oh, yeah. You don’t know what he was like before.”

“Tell us.”

“He worked all the time. He wanted to be the best at
any cost. People respected him, but not a lot of people liked him. Now”—he gestured toward the door—“there’s a whole town out there waiting because of him. People who respect him
and
like him. People who are willing to like
me
just for being his son. He’s got friends. He’s got a life. He’s changed. And that’s real good.”

Jillian asked one last question. “Do you think he’s changed enough to be a good father?”

“I don’t know,” Trey replied, his honesty seeming as painful for him as it was for J.D. “But I’d like the chance to find out.”

“Thank you, Trey. I have no further questions.”

As Trey left the witness stand, Judge McKechnie stood up. “Wait here,” he commanded. “I’ll be back.” With his black robes trailing behind him, he went into his chambers and closed the door.

With an exhausted sigh Kelsey pulled an envelope from her purse, then crossed the aisle to sit beside Mary Therese.

“That had better not be a letter of resignation,” her boss said.

“I just don’t know if I can do this job anymore.”

Mary Therese looked from her to J.D., then back. “Go ahead. Jump at the first better offer that comes along.”

“He hasn’t offered yet.”

“But if he does, you’re gonna grab hold with both hands. You’re no fool. That’s one of the things I like about you.” Mary Therese tapped the envelope. “Hold on to that for a while. You can always turn it in later if you decide you have to.”

Kelsey nodded, then started back to her seat. She was halfway there when J.D. caught her hand and guided her around the knee wall to join him as Trey and the Whittakers approached. “I cannot believe you brought me my son,” he murmured.

“He wanted to come. He just needed the invitation.”

For a long while Earl and Bev simply stood there, looking, and so did J.D. Finally Earl offered his hand. “J.D.”

“Earl.” J.D. accepted his handshake. “Thank you for letting Trey come.”

His father-in-law shrugged. “It was his decision. He wanted—”

When he didn’t go on, Bev did. “He wanted to come, J.D. He wanted to see you.” She curled her fingers gently around his. “You look real good.”

“I’ve been working at it.”

“I know. We should have been there to help, but—” Breaking off, she blinked back a tear or two, then caught Trey by the arm and pulled him close. “Come on up here and say hello. You’ve waited a long time for this.”

Looking supremely awkward, Trey shoved his hands in his pockets, flashed a grin that mirrored his father’s, then shrugged. “Hi.”

“Hi.” J.D. stared at him for a moment as if he were hungry for the sight. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you.” Trey shrugged again. “You look real good.” After another long, stiff silence, he said, “I—I. don’t know if—what I said made any difference—”

“Oh, yeah. It made all the difference in the world.”

For an instant Kelsey thought J.D. was going to let go of her and reach for his son. She silently urged him to, but instead his fingers curled even more tightly around hers. “God, Trey, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. I, uh—I understand you’re building a house.” Trey cleared his throat, shifted from foot, to foot. “Granddad’s taught me how to use his tools, and I—I have some time before school starts if—if you’re—interested.”

“I would love that,” J.D. replied.

“Better be a big house. Four kids, Grandpa, Kelsey.”
Trey swallowed hard, pulled his hands from his pockets, then shoved them back. “Are you sure there’s room for one more?”

“Aw, hell.” J.D. dropped Kelsey’s hand and reached for Trey. The boy went willingly, gratefully, into his embrace. “There’s always room for you. You’re my
son.
”

Kelsey closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was more tired than she’d ever been in her life, more emotionally raw—and she couldn’t be any happier. Well, unless the judge would come back right then and give J.D. custody of the Brown kids. She liked the idea of an immediate family. Marry one and become mother to five. It would thrill her grandchild-hungry mother no end.

Across the room the door to the judge’s chambers opened, and he returned to the bench. “Sit down, sit down, wherever you are.”

Trey took the empty chair next to J.D.’s. Kelsey returned to her own seat a few feet behind.

“On paper, I admit, J.D. doesn’t look like much of a father—a recovering alcoholic whose own child chooses to live elsewhere. But we don’t live our lives on paper. What’s in our past is important in that it makes us what we are in the present. And what J. D. Grayson is in the present is a part of this community. He’s respected—and well liked,” he said with a nod to Trey. “He’s a good friend and neighbor. He’s responsible, a hard worker, and a generous man. In the year and a half he’s lived here, he’s remained so sober that not one of us suspected he had a problem.

“Now, Mary Therese, I know your motto is better safe than sorry when it comes to the children in your care. But sometimes being safe also means being sorry. Did J.D. have problems in the past? Undoubtedly. Is he having problems now? No. Is he likely to have problems in the future? That’s something only the good Lord knows for
sure, but I’d be willing to wager that the answer is no. As his son pointed out, he’s a changed man. He’s got his priorities straight, and if he ever needs a gentle reminder, he’s got plenty of people to give him one—the whole darn town, in fact.

“Maybe you could find someone else who wants those kids as much as he does, but I doubt it. You and I both know that there are a lot more people leaving their kids than there are other people wanting to take them in. And maybe you could find someone that those kids want more than him, but I doubt mat too. Our sheriff’s department has been looking for a family relation for more than a month without success. The way I see it, we’ve got two sides that want the same thing, and I see no reason to stand between them. I hereby order custody of Caleb, Jacob, Noah, and Gracie Brown returned to J. D. Grayson, effective immediately,”

I
t was a quiet, still evening. Across town the younger three kids were tucked in their bunks, and Caleb and Trey were keeping Bud company. In her apartment, tucked in her own bed, Kelsey was keeping J.D. company. They’d made sweet love, and now she lay cradled in his arms, more asleep than awake as the last four days finally caught up with her.

She was about to doze off, when he matter-of-factly spoke. “When you marry me, we’ll be able to share a bed in the same house. No more sneaking across town to make love. I might miss it.”

She woke up enough to give him a haughty look. “
When
I marry you? Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

After a moment’s thought he smugly grinned. “Well … yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

“You haven’t even asked.”

He rolled over, then held himself above her, his hands bearing his weight on either side of her head. “Kelsey Colleen Malone, I love you dearly and can think of nothing that would make me happier than to call you my wife. Will you marry me?”

She pretended to consider it, then said, “Yes … on one condition.”

“I’ll love you forever.”

“That’s not the condition.”

“I’ll devote myself to keeping you happy.”

“That’s not it either.”

“I’ll rub your back when you’re pregnant and your front when you’re not. I’ll buy you ice cream and plant you flowers. I’ll keep your feet warm in winter and scrape the ice off your car windows and share the household chores. I’ll buy you a puppy and take you to the beach once every summer and tell everyone I meet that I’m the luckiest man in the entire world for having you.” Suddenly he grinned, and the gleam in his eye turned devilish. “I’ll tell you what J.D. stands for.”

Her smile spread from ear to ear. “It’s only fair. After all, you call me by my full name. When I tell you that I love you with a passion and would be honored to become your wife, I can do it with your full name.”

Leaning lower, he brushed his mouth over her ear, sending a delicate shudder through her, and he whispered the words. Her first impulse was to laugh, but he chose that moment to lower himself to her, to slide easily inside her, and she gave a heavenly sigh instead. “I love you, J. D. Grayson, and I would be honored to become your wife. But I will be damned—”

Her body arched and her breath caught as he did such wickedly enticing things to her.

“—if I will ever call you—”

He stroked her with his fingers, sending shivers rippling through her.

She whispered the name on a gasp that swiftly became a moan of pure need.

“I don’t care what you call me,” he murmured as his body stiffened, as hers went taut with pleasure. “Just as long as you call me.”

Epilogue
 

T
he cooler weather of fall brought changing leaves and hunters to the mountains. It was the latter who discovered the rusted-out pickup truck deep in a ravine off one of the valley’s most isolated roads. They reported their find to the sheriff, who took no pleasure in passing along the news to J.D.

Ezra Brown had been found.

The church had been crowded with mourners who’d never met the man, who wouldn’t have recognized him if he’d walked in and sat down among them. They’d come out of respect to his children, for which J.D. was grateful. A lonely funeral on a chilly fall day was no place for children.

Now all the visitors who’d brought food and condolences had gone. The younger children were tucked in their beds in the room they shared. Caleb, who had, predictably, taken his father’s death the hardest, had changed from his suit and gone for a walk in the woods. Though
dusk was settling and he hadn’t yet come back, J.D. wasn’t worried. Trey was with him. He would look out for him.

The French door behind him opened with a creak, then closed again. A moment later Kelsey wrapped her arms around him from behind. “Are you okay?”