“Okay.”
Only when she left the room did she begin to wonder the same thing… what if he couldn't… but he had to… he had to win the case for her. She couldn't bear losing Timmie. And by the time she got back to her own room, she convinced herself that she never would.
36
They shared Christmas in peace, and for the first time in Timmie's life he had the kind of Christmas of which children dream. There were presents stacked high in boxes, things to wear, and games, and puzzles, a bright fire engine with a hat for him to wear, and a sweater for his teddy bear, and even some things Sam had made for him. And in the main hall was a huge tree surrounded by presents. There were toys for all the children currently staying at the ranch. And one of the counselors, at her request, had dressed up as Santa, and it reminded Sam and Josh of the year when Tate Jordan had been Santa. The memory of the man she still so loved placing the angel on the Christmas tree came back to her like a knife stab to her heart. Suddenly she was reminded of so many things about Tate and about John, whom she so seldom thought of now. They had had another baby, she knew, and Liz had finally been fired by the network, because she was so tiresome on the air. John Taylor's career was still booming but once in a great while when Sam watched him she found him plastic and empty and too pretty and terribly boring, and she wondered why she had ever cared. It seemed amazing now to watch eleven years of one's life fly out the window and not even care, but she just didn't. It was different when she thought of Tate.
“Sam… can I ask you a crazy question?” Josh asked her as they stood apart in a corner, watching the kids open their gifts.
“Sure. What?” But she already knew.
“Were you in love with Tate Jordan?” She looked into Josh's eyes and nodded her head slowly.
“Yes, I was.”
“Was that why he left?”
“I suppose. He decided not to work things out, I guess. And I had told him I didn't want to play the same game as Caro and Bill. But he didn't think a lady should love a ranch hand. At least not openly.” She looked sad as she spoke. “So he left.”
“I figured it was something like that.”
“And he had some kind of fit when he found out who my ex-husband was… thought he wasn't good enough for me, or something equally dumb…”
“Shit.” Josh looked instantly angry. “He was worth ten of that jerk. Oh-” His face flushed bright red. “I'm sorry, Sam…”
She chuckled. “Don't be. I was just thinking the same thing.”
“And he never wrote you or nothing?”
“No. I think I must have looked for him on every ranch in this country, but I never found him.”
Josh looked sorry again as he glanced at Sam. “It's a damn shame, Sam. He was a good man, and I always thought that he loved you. Maybe he'll turn up someday, just to say hi to Bill or me or Caro, and find you here instead.”
Sam shook her head with a taut expression on her face. “I hope not. He'd be in for one hell of a shock.” She meant her legs, but this time Josh shook his head.
“You think he'd care?”
“It doesn't matter, Josh. I would. That's all over now. I've got the kids instead.”
“At your age, Sam? Don't be crazy. What are you, twenty-eight, twenty-nine?”
She grinned at the old man. “Josh, I love you. I'm thirty-three.”
“All sounds the same to me. Try fifty-nine and see how you like the feel of that.”
“On you it looks good.”
“Sweet-talker, but I love it.” He grinned at her, and then his face grew serious again. “You're talking bullshit though, you know, about Tate. And it don't matter if it's Tate or someone else, you're too damn young to treat yourself like an old maid.” And then he narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “The truth is, Sam, you're a damn liar. You spend all your time teaching these kids that they don't have to live or think or act like cripples, and then in your heart you think of yourself as one.” He had hit a nerve but she said nothing and kept her eyes on the kids. “It's true, Sam… dammit, it's true. I saw that lawyer from Los Angeles talking to you the other day. He likes you, like a woman, dammit, and do you pay him any mind? No, hell no, you just act like a happy little old lady and give him iced tea.”
“There's nothing wrong with iced tea.” She grinned at him this time.
“No, but there's a lot wrong with pretending you're not a woman anymore at thirty-three.”
“Watch out, Josh,” she said, trying to glare at him, “I may attack you the next time we're alone.” And with that, she blew a kiss in his direction and wheeled herself into the midst of the kids. It was her way of telling him that she didn't want to hear any more. He had come a little too close to home.
It took them all two days to recover from the excitement of Christmas. There weren't even any riding lessons, just some casual groups that rode out over the hills, but neither Timmie nor Sam were among them. They were both spending a lot of time alone, as though they each had a deep need to be together. The hearing was set for December 28.
“You scared?” The night before the hearing, she had put Timmie in her smallest guest room, next door to her own room, and she was just tucking him into bed.
“About tomorrow?” Her face was close to his, and she touched it with one long graceful hand. “A little. Are you?”
“Yeah.” She saw now that the big blue eyes were filled with terror. “A lot. What if she hits me?”
“I won't let her.”
“What if she takes me?”
“She won't.” But what if they let her take him? That was the ghost that haunted Samantha, and she couldn't promise him that that wouldn't happen. She didn't want to lie. She had already told him that if they lost it she would appeal it, if that was what he wanted, and she had also told him that if what he wanted was to be with his mommy then that was okay too. It tore at her heart to give him that option, but she knew she had to. She didn't want to steal him from his own mother. She wanted him to come to her with an open heart. “It'll be all right, sweetheart. You'll see.”
But she didn't look nearly as certain the next day as Josh pushed both their wheelchairs up the ramp at the Los Angeles County Courthouse. She and Timmie were ferociously holding hands, and when they pressed into the elevator in their wheelchairs, they both felt awkward and conspicuous until Josh helped pull them out. Norman Warren was waiting for them just outside the courtroom, in a dark blue suit. He looked eminently respectable, as did Sam. She had worn a pretty pale blue wool dress, which was a remnant of her New York wardrobe, a matching light blue mohair coat, and plain black leather Gucci shoes. She had bought Timmie new clothes especially for the occasion, little navy blue slacks with a matching jacket and a pale blue turtleneck sweater, which accidentally matched Sam's dress. They looked very much like mother and son as they sat there waiting, and Norman once again noticed the striking resemblance of his towhead, her blond hair, and the same enormous blue eyes.
The hearing took place in a small courtroom, and the judge entered, wearing glasses and a quiet smile. He did his best not to intimidate Timmie when he looked at him, and he sat at a desk on a slightly raised platform, which was less impressive than some of the desks he had sat at in other courts. He was a man in his early sixties, and he had been doing child-custody hearings for a great many years. He was admired in Los Angeles for his fairness and his kindness to children-a number of times had saved children from unfortunate adoptions. He had a profound respect for children and natural mothers, and often encouraged the mothers to think over their decisions before they gave away their babies, their faces drenched in tears. Many women had come back to thank him, and it was something he would always carry with him when he retired. And now he looked at Timmie with interest, and at Samantha and her attorney, and a few minutes later at the tiny, fragile-looking young woman who slipped into the courtroom with her attorney. She was wearing a gray skirt and a white blouse and she looked more like a schoolgirl
