The Single Dad's Redemption (7 page)

Chapter Eight

C
onnor had left prison with a bitter heart over the years he’d lost and the God who had forsaken him. With grim awareness, he’d accepted that his life would never be the same.

So when he’d arrived in Aspen Creek with a nearly empty wallet and dimming hopes of reaching Detroit in time to find his son, he’d expected to be met with frank suspicion, not trust and acceptance.

He’d never expected that anyone in an upscale vacation area like this one would consider hiring him—much less a pretty young woman who trusted him with her store, her clientele and her cash register...and who seemed determined to help him in whatever way she could.

Though whether he’d encountered someone like her by chance or something more divine, he couldn’t guess. After so many years of silence in response to his prayers, he had fallen away. So why would God start caring about him now?

Connor pushed away from the desk in the corner of the back room and sorted through the stack of papers he’d printed from numerous Montana and Michigan legal websites. He stapled them into sets and tapped the pages into a neat pile.

The time on the internet had been invaluable and nothing he could have taken care of out at the park. That Keeley had trusted him with her computer was yet another favor that he was thankful for. How could he ever repay her for all she’d done?

“Can I interrupt?” Keeley appeared at the doorway with a mug of coffee and a plate of frosted sugar cookies. “You probably need a boost after wading through all of that information.”

He eyed the pastel cookies and inhaled the light, lemony scent. “I feel guilty spending this time for my own purposes and being plied with food, to boot. You’ll be taking these hours off my paycheck, I hope.”

She waved away his concern. “Not an issue. You were here, and that let me run over to check on Dad twice without needing to lock up. That’s value enough for me. Did you discover anything good?”

“I wasn’t sure if Marsha had a right to take Joshua from Montana to Michigan without notifying me. There have been varied legal opinions on this, but apparently, as the sole custodial parent, she did have that right. Especially if she were to claim that the move was in his best interests.”

“And do you think it was?”

He shrugged. “She—or her lawyer—could claim that her move to a more urban setting in Detroit meant better schools than a small town in Montana, and closer proximity to good medical and dental care. That wasn’t her intent, because I hear she was really just following a new boyfriend, but a lawyer could give it a good spin.”

“What about your visitation rights? Can she prevent you from seeing him?”

“She has both legal and physical custody, which I didn’t contest when I thought I’d be locked away for life. I want to pursue shared custody again. But no matter what, I still have a right to see Josh—unless a court terminates my parental rights altogether.”

“She wouldn’t try to have that done, would she?”

“I doubt she has the money, but I wouldn’t put it past her to try.” He took a long swallow of coffee. “That would involve proving abuse, which she could never prove. Or having me deemed unfit—and prison time might cover that one.”

“Oh, Connor. That’s awful. Even though you were exonerated?”

“It shouldn’t, but that’s a question I’ll have for your sister.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Guess I’d better make that call.”

“Use the desk phone so you won’t use up your cell minutes. Liza is number three on the speed-dial keypad. While you two talk, I’m going back up front to work on my window display.”

Connor rubbed the back of his neck as he studied the list of questions he’d compiled for Keeley’s sister. Doubt gnawed at his stomach.

Marsha could be kind and loving on a good day, but she could also be manipulative and difficult, and had often complained about the constraints of parenthood. Would she fight him on this?

Given her attitude during their last phone conversation, that answer was a definite yes—but whether it was out of spite, revenge or true love for Joshua, he couldn’t say.

Liza answered on the second ring. “So, this is Keeley’s cowboy? I see from the caller ID you’re at the store.”

“Right.”

“You do know that I’m a tax lawyer and not in family law, correct? I can only provide my opinion, but you need the right kind of counsel when you actually do proceed.”

“Understood.”

“And since your ex is in Michigan, you should have an attorney who works there. Laws vary from state to state, as do the interpretations of those laws...and all that can shift in a given year. So you need someone who is sharp and who keeps up to date.”

“Figured that, too.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “From what I’ve heard plus that Texas accent, you must be one of those laconic loner types. Tell me, cowboy, is my sister safe with you there? Did you tell her the whole truth about your past?”

“Yes, ma’am. And she checked it out at the sheriff’s office. Someone named Lorraine looked it all up.”

“Lorraine, okay. If you’d told me Todd did the research, I’d have my doubts. So, fire away. What do you want to know?”

“What are the chances that I can get custody?”

“I just talked to a friend who practices family law here in Minneapolis and gave her the basics. First of all—even though you were exonerated—five years in prison is still a strike against you.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“Second, the boy has been with his mother for five years, so the courts would hesitate to take him away from her. Unless there’s documented abuse or neglect, your chances for full custody are slim.”

“Partial custody?”

“You’d have a better chance of that.”

Liza fell silent for a moment. “If you do get shared custody, record every time she doesn’t show up or is late...and any negative statements she makes. If she’s lackadaisical, maybe you can get full custody. And if she’s wrapped up in her social life, she might even be glad to give it to you.”

Connor looked down at his list of questions. “Would a mediator help?”

“Just a minute—my house phone is ringing. I’m going to put you on hold.”

Connor leaned back in his chair and surveyed the cluttered bulletin board above the desk. Invoices. Cryptic reminders on colorful Post-it notes. To-do lists.

But the photos—those were the best part. He leaned closer to study them. There were several dozen, at least. Grade-school photos of four kids spanning several years. With front teeth. Without. Shy smiles, goofy smiles. Keeley’s nieces and nephews?

And then there were the family photos of various family groups by a tree at Christmas. Easter, with the little ones proudly holding colorful baskets. Summer photos at a lake. Keeley had to be the family photographer, because she was in so few of them, but there was one that caught his eye and he gently lifted off the thumbtack to see it better.

Keeley, her blond hair gleaming in the bright sun, with her father and another man and woman beside her—her siblings, maybe—surrounded by kids and dogs.

All of them seemed so happy, so relaxed, that his breath caught.

Once again he wondered what his life would have been like if he’d found someone like Keeley, with a good heart and a kind soul, instead of falling for a buckle bunny with tight jeans and an “I’m yours if you want me” glance.

He’d been lonely then, on the road month after month following the rodeo circuit, and in Marsha’s bold gaze he’d imagined a connection, a relationship far deeper than just an evening in a raucous honky-tonk bar.

She was one of the many mistakes he’d made—except that she’d given him a beautiful son, and that he could never regret.

Liza came back on the line. “Sorry about that. From what I found on the internet, I think a mediator in Michigan only deals with existing custody arrangements—scheduling problems and such. But you’d better double-check to make sure.”

“Do you think there’s any chance of finding pro bono services that could help with this?”

“I doubt it. A custody battle can be long, hard and costly, and an attorney’s time alone can easily reach ten or twelve grand.”

Connor sat back in his chair, speechless.

“You might find an attorney who will let you make payments, though,” she added gently. “I’m sure most parents struggle with these costs. Good luck, and God bless.”

Long after she disconnected, Connor stared at the family images on the wall, his heart aching for the photos he longed to have with Joshua at his side. Confirmation. High-school graduation. Vacations and adventures and Christmas mornings.

But ten or twelve
grand
?

The amount was so far beyond his reach that it might as well be a million. Yet there was no way that he was going to give up. His son deserved a better life, with a father who loved him with all his heart.

And whatever it took, Connor was going to make it happen.

Chapter Nine

S
tepping into the warm glow of Beth’s Bookstore early on Monday mornings, with its soft classical music and wonderful scents of books, bakery goods and coffee, invariably made Keeley feel deeply content. Today, with fog and light drizzle, the cozy atmosphere inside was as comforting as a warm hug.

She hoped she felt as good when she finished this morning’s mission.

Though the book-club members continually evolved as old friends moved away and new members were drawn by the poster in the front window, most of the mainstays still came. This morning, however, only Beth, Sophie and Olivia were seated at the back meeting area with cups of steaming coffee cradled in their hands.

The three looked as bright and cheery as a trio of colorful songbirds, with Beth in a long paisley skirt and orange T-shirt, Sophie in her lime clinic uniform splashed with cherries, and Olivia in an elegant violet pantsuit that flattered her closely cropped silver hair.

“Good morning.” Keeley smiled at them as she made her way to the Keurig on a side table and prepared a cup of the blueberry-flavored coffee generously lightened with a splash of skim, then selected a lemon poppy-seed muffin from an overflowing tray of treats. “Are you all ready for what this week will bring?”

Tucking a wayward strand of chestnut hair back into the casual twist at her nape, Beth nodded. “We’re planning to have a sidewalk sale during the festival and some local authors will be doing readings inside the store each day. My mother will be helping with cookie decorating back in the children’s area—Dr. Seuss–shaped cutouts.”

“Eli will love that,” Sophie exclaimed. “If she needs help supervising, I’d be happy to pitch in on Saturday.”

“That sounds more fun than my job,” Olivia grumbled as she nibbled the edge of a cranberry-and-white-chocolate scone. “I’ll be the cashier at the church food tent for eight hours straight on Friday.”

“My plans aren’t quite what they were when I still had Edna.” Keeley clasped her coffee mug between her hands, savoring the warmth. “We were quite a team.”

Olivia lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I hear you have some new help, though. Quite an interesting fellow—or so they say.”

Keeley stilled. “Oh?”

“I needed more of that nice thick yarn for making prayer shawls, so I stopped by Knitting Pretty and, of course, I also got an ample dose of local news.” Olivia smirked. “Not that I wanted to hear it, but it can be a bit hard getting away, as you know.”

“I can guess what she wanted to share,” Keeley said dryly.

Olivia and Beth exchanged a quick, concerned glance. Then Olivia cleared her throat. “Word has apparently traveled rather fast about that cowboy of yours. Are you sure it’s a good idea to have him working in your store?”

Sophie’s confused gaze swept all of them. “So what’s wrong with him? I thought he sounded like quite a hero, rescuing Keeley from her roof like that.”

Keeley bit back a sigh. Small-town life was wonderful, and she’d never wanted to live anywhere else. But while close relationships and a deep sense of community were great, the tendency for persistent gossip was not.

“I think they’re referring to his incarceration,” she said, meeting Olivia’s gaze. “Would that sum it up?”

The older woman didn’t flinch. “I would say so, yes.”

Keeley gave her a level glance. “Honestly, I think he turned up in answer to my prayer.”

Olivia shook her head. “Some people in town think you’re making a foolish mistake.”

“Most people should know Millie is an unreliable gossip, and Todd is, as well, even though he has seen proof and knows Connor was innocent of any crime. So if he’s dramatizing the story down at the coffee shop, then he and I need to have another talk.”

“So have you seen that proof yourself?” Sophie whispered.

“Yes, I have.” Keeley resisted the urge to throw up her hands in frustration. “I think he’s a good man, caught in terrible circumstances, who is trying to make a new life for himself. Can you guess what his one goal is now? What he wants more than anything?”

Beth shrugged. “Vengeance, maybe. Or a ton of money for selling his story to a magazine?”

“A deal with a major book publisher and a ghost writer?” Olivia offered.

“Not even close.” Keeley felt her lower lip tremble and she took a steadying breath. “All he wants is to find his nine-year-old son, do everything he can to regain at least partial custody, then find a good, steady job somewhere. He’s not thinking fame or fortune or book deals. He simply wants to be a good father to his boy.”

Sophie leaned back in her chair and fanned herself. “Oh, my. Tall, dark and
awesome
. Be still, my heart.”

“He won’t be here long—only a few weeks, until his truck is done. So if you overhear anything, please—just tell people the truth.”

* * *

Connor had firmly declined Keeley’s offer of a ride to work this morning, so with an hour until opening her store, she drove slowly away from the bookstore, cruised past the sheriff’s office and then drove through town searching for Todd’s patrol car.

He should be out on the highway trapping speeders or somewhere out in the county on a call, but his mornings were usually spent in town at his favorite haunt.

She found him at the coffee shop, as she’d expected—hunched over his morning coffee and a massive cinnamon roll slathered with caramel and pecans—chatting with the waitress.

She settled on the stool next to him and ordered a cup of coffee. The waitress, a heavyset, middle-aged woman with Dora on her name tag, brought it in a flash then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Mornin’, Keel.” Todd shot a sideways glance at her then studied his coffee mug.

“I suppose you can guess why I’m here.” She glanced around, but the shop was nearly empty save for an older couple in a booth at the far corner. She lowered her voice. “I’ve been running into an interesting situation and thought you’d want to know.”

He took a slow swallow of his coffee.

“Millie stopped by and was worried about the ‘troublemaker’ working for me. Several of my friends are concerned about the ‘murderer’ in town. Even my sister heard about it, and
she
lives in Minneapolis.” She glared at Todd’s profile until he finally turned to meet her eyes. “This has got to stop. You know the truth about Connor, yet this so-called news is spreading like wildfire and I know you’re partly to blame. How fair is that?”

“I admit I discussed it privately here—in a back booth, with the deputy who works the eastern half of the county.” He shrugged, blowing off her concern. “If someone overheard, well...”

“Like Millie, of all people? Or a
waitress
?”

His gaze slid away.

“And what about my sister?”

Crimson splotches bloomed on his plump cheeks. “I was just concerned about having someone like him around.”

“No, you like to entertain people with your dramatic stories.” Keeley gritted her teeth. “And calling Liz was so over the top that I should report you to the sheriff. You had no business doing that. I’m thirty-one and make decisions on my own. I can hire circus clowns to run my store if I want to.”

As a kid he’d been a tattletale and a gossip, and had bullied younger kids. How he’d managed to snag a fiancée was hard to believe. How he’d become a deputy was beyond her comprehension.

“I know. It’s just...it’s just that I see things you’d never want to see, Keel. Controlling, conniving, dangerous guys. Girlfriends or wives too terrified to even try to get away. So when someone shows up with a troubled past, well...”

“That has nothing to do with Connor. He’s a nice guy who suffered an unjust conviction, and anyway, he’s just a very temporary employee.”

“Guilty or not, he’s been rubbing shoulders with convicts for five years—probably nurturing a lot of hate and resentment over his conviction.” Todd ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “What did that do to him, huh? Not affect him at all?”

“You’re saying that people don’t have a choice—that even a good person would turn bad in prison, despite their nature? Their upbringing? I don’t believe that.”

He fidgeted with a menu. “I’d dealt with a case of fraud perpetrated on an elderly widow with dementia just before your new buddy showed up in town, and it made me think.”

“He isn’t my ‘new buddy,’ and you can’t imagine that I’m like that poor old woman.” She sighed. Todd apparently thought he was doing the right thing, and she knew it was nearly impossible to change his mind. “I trust you won’t be sharing details about him with everyone else in town. Right?”

“Promise.” He cleared his throat. “Unless there’s a good reason.”

She dug through her purse and tucked a five under her coffee mug. “I just wish the gossip mill around here wasn’t so ready to brand Connor as something he’s not. And, anyway, he’ll be on the road for Detroit the very day his truck is fixed. We’ll never see him again, I’m sure.”

“We can only hope,” Todd muttered as she stood to leave. “But in the meantime, you’d better be careful.”

Stifling a sharp retort, she lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and headed outside, frustration and anger tying her stomach into a heavy knot.

She’d spoken offhandedly about Connor’s departure, as if it didn’t matter to her.

But it did. Way too much.

With every passing day she found herself falling for him a little bit more as she experienced his deep sense of honor, his warmth and kindness, and an indefinable, physical attraction that made her nerves tingle and her knees weaken if their eyes happened to meet.

But she’d always known he needed to leave, fight for his son and then establish a new life. His goals had been clear from the very start. Her roots—her business, her debts, her failing father—made it impossible to ever follow.

And once again she’d be facing inevitable heartbreak. When would she ever learn?