His Heart for the Trusting (18 page)

“Mom cried, but
I think even she knew it was best.  She pretended it was only going to be for a
little while, that she was going to get some help and straighten herself out.”

“And I did.” 
Cynthia was standing in the doorway holding a clean Jonathan.  Her face was
unreadable and suddenly Sara felt uncomfortable having discussed something so
personal.  “Not right away mind you.  It took me a few falls and lot of hard,
scary looks in the mirror.  I hope to God I never see that reflection again.
Looking at ones mistakes and trying to find your way back is never easy.”

“But you did
it, Ma.  That's what counts.  And I'm very proud of you for doing it.  Not just
for me, but for you.”

She smiled then
and sheen of tears lit her eyes.  “Thank you, son.  Life is better now.  I'm
not about to go messing up a good thing a second time around.”

Cynthia sighed
and settled into a wing chair opposite them in the living room.  “Now that we
have all that out of the way, what have you decided to do about this child?”

“We go to court
tomorrow.  I spoke with a family lawyer on the phone before we left Texas. 
I'll be meeting with her before the hearing.”

“Are you sure
you want to go through with all this?” Cynthia said, nuzzling Jonathan.  “He's
such a precious baby.  I can't bear to think of him caught between all this
squabbling and screaming.  Did you try to work something out with Lillian
first?”

“She said she
wants to take him back here.  And she wants money.  That part I knew.”

Cynthia's eyes
lit brighter.  “I can't say that I wouldn't be thrilled to death if you were to
come back home to Baltimore.  It would give me a chance to enjoy my grandbaby
right.  I know things are better with us these past few years but it would give
us a second chance, too, Mitch.”

“In case you
haven't looked around lately, Ma, there aren't a whole lot of cattle ranches
for sale in Baltimore.”

“Maybe not in
Baltimore.  But there are places closer.  It doesn't have to be Texas.  You
could still have a ranch or a farm out in the Virginia countryside and be
closer to home.  Have you thought about that?”

Sara watched
Mitch as he mulled it over.  It would make things easier for Jonathan to have
both parents close by.  It would shut her out of his life completely and she
selfishly didn't want that.

It was then
that he glanced at Sara and she knew the thought had crossed his mind.

“It's a
possibility.  But I'm not making a move until the time is right.  I'm not in
any position to buy a spread just yet.”

“If you take
your inheritance into consideration, you are.  Mitch, your father and I spent
the better part of our marriage and years beyond fighting about anything and
everything.  And if it meant using you to get to the other, we did it.”

It didn't take
a great deal of thinking to know it had cost Cynthia a lot to admit that and
that it hurt.  She gazed down at her grandson with deep love and regret etched
in her smile.

“I don't want
this darling baby caught in a tug of war and hurt the way you were.”

“I'm not like
my old man.  I'm trying to keep him from getting hurt.”

Cynthia's laugh
was bittersweet.  “Honey, we all think we're doing things in the best interest
of the child.  Yet, somewhere along the way, we start believing that our way is
the only way and the only one who ends up really hurt is the child.  I thank
God and your grandpa for helping to break this miserable cycle.  The fact that
you have turned your life into something positive is testament to someone
else's caring of your “best” interest.”

“Lillian--”

With a wave of
her hand, Cynthia cut him off.  “Never mind Lillian.  Think of Jonathan.  Who
are you really doing this for?”

* * *

Mitch slept
very little that night.  It wasn't only the court hearing that he worried
about.  By this time tomorrow his entire world could be changing. 

Sara had been
right.  He hadn't really given Lillian a chance to explain.  Mitch had been so
afraid of losing Jonathan, and so bent on seeing that Lillian didn't hurt him,
that he was blinded to how controlling he'd been.  He wasn't much better than
Sara's ex-husband on that matter. 

Sara had spoken
her mind at the ranch, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it since
then.  There had been time on the plane, and in the taxi ride over to his
mother's house.  But Mitch hadn't wanted to face his own failings here. 

It had to weigh
heavy on Sara's mind, but she didn't push.  When she was ready, she'd speak her
mind again, and let him know exactly how she felt.  She wasn't one to keep her
feelings hid and it was something he admired about her.  There were no games. 
He liked that.  More important, he needed that.

At three a.m.,
he paced down to the kitchen and pulled out a carton of orange juice, drinking
it directly from the carton.

“I hope you
don't do that back at the ranch.”

Mitch spun
around and in the dim light coming from the lit match in her hand, he saw
Sara.  She touched the wick of the candle that was placed on the table in front
of her.  An amber glow filled the space around them.  The smell of the spent
match she'd blown out and the burning wax filled the air.  Sara sat at the
kitchen table in her cotton bathrobe just staring up at him. 

“I didn't
realize anyone else was awake,” Mitch said.

“I got up just
a few minutes before you came down.  I couldn't sleep either.”  She leaned over
and pulled the chair beside her away from the table.  “Join me?”

He dropped the
carton of juice back in the fridge and joined her at the table.  Instantly she
placed her hand over his as he laced them in front of himself.  They sat there
in the quiet of the night.

“What's the
candle for?”

“A prayer.”

He nodded.  He
knew so little about Sara's culture.  How could he possibly know what it meant
to her if he knew nothing about it?

“Zee tsa lit
ni', a friendship prayer,” she continued quietly.  She continued her prayer,
speaking softly in her native language, her dark eyes closed to him.  When she
was done, she gave his hand a squeeze.

“That was
nice,” he said, lamely, not understanding a word of what she'd said.

She chuckled
softly.  “Technically, the rite should be performed by a medicine man or woman
or a very close blood relative.  But Jonathan can't talk yet.”

She glanced at
him as he stared at her.

Her lips tilted
to a grin.  “That was a joke.”

He nodded.

“It's a prayer
of life long protection from evil.”

Mitch nodded
his understanding then.  “I'm going to need it then.”

* * *

Sara’s heart
broke for what Mitch was going through.  “It's going to be okay, you know,”
Sara said, wishing to God she'd believe it herself if she said it enough.

“I...I'm
scared.”  It was a small voice, deep and strong, but oh, so very small at the
same time.  Sara wondered how many times Mitch had sat in this house in the
dark and said those words.  He'd come so far from the little boy who'd been
hurt here.  So much had happened, and yet, here he was again, feeling the same pain.

“I know you
are.  I am, too.”

“But you still
think I'm wrong.”

“I don't think
you're wrong, Mitch.  I just don't think you've thought it through.  Jonathan
isn't a piece of property to be divided up.  He's a child who needs his
mother.”

“He needs a mother. 
But just because Lillian claims the title, doesn't mean she'll be one.”

“Maybe.  Maybe
not.  I don't know her like you do.”

He sighed. 
“It's the money she wants.”

“Did she say
that?”

“In a
roundabout way.  She said she wanted Jonathan to get all that was coming to
him.”

“Any mother
would want everything they could give their child.”  Sara rubbed her eyes with
her other hand and dropped it to the table.  “Did you ask her Mitch?”

“What?”

“The reason she
left him.”

“I asked her
why she didn't tell me about him.”

“Why don't you
ask her why she left him?  Then maybe you'll understand the reason she wants
him back.”

He played with
her fingers in the dark, caressing them, sending a flow of sensation through
her body.

“Mitch, you
have to think about what you'll do if the judge gives Jonathan back to her.” 
It pained Sara to say it aloud.  She knew Mitch had to have been thinking about
what Cynthia had said about moving closer to Baltimore, but he hadn't said a
word.  If he wasn't awarded custody, he could always try to get joint custody
or visitation and see Jonathan on a regular basis.  That would be nearly
impossibly if he were living in Steerage Rock.

“Mitch?”

“I can't lose
my son,” he said quietly.  “And I won't abandon him.”

That said it
all.  He didn't have to say anymore.

“You should get
some sleep,” she said.  Getting to her feet, she blew out the candle and pulled
her hand from his, wanting nothing more than to run so she could find a quiet
corner and cry.

“Sara?”

She made it to
the doorway and angled back.  “What is it?”

“Why did you
come with me to Baltimore?  Even after the way I treated you the other night.”

“You said you
needed me.  And I'm your friend.”  I would never turn my back on you, Mitch.

He started to
say something, hesitated, and then said, “Will you come with me to court?  I
don't know if I can...do this alone.”  His voice broke.  In the light of the
moon shining through the window above the sink, she saw his jaw tighten and his
eyes close.  She wanted to reach out to him, wrap her arms around his shoulders
and tell him that she'd always be there for him.  He didn't have to do this
alone. 

But something
held her back, keeping her from reaching out to him and telling him what was in
her heart.  Good Lord, she loved him.  After tomorrow, their lives would take a
very dramatic turn if he lost custody of Jonathan.  He'd be leaving Steerage
Rock and coming back east to be with his son.

And she'd be
going to live on the reservation without him.

Her heart was
torn.  Yes, she loved him.  But it was clear that loving him would only end up
hurting her in the end.

She walked over
to the table and as she did, he rose to his feet.  She instantly melted into
his embrace, took from him the comfort he gave, while giving it back.

This is love,
she thought.  Something she had never had in her marriage to Dave.  Never had
her husband opened himself up so vulnerably, trusting in her enough to be there
for him.  She buried her head in the crook of Mitch's neck, felt his heartbeat
hammer against the walls of his chest as he stroked her hair.

“I'm going to
talk to Lillian before we go into court,” he whispered.

She closed her
eyes and waited for Mitch to continue.

“If it means
moving back east to make this work...”

“I know,” she
said in a faraway voice.

“Thank you.”

She pulled back
and gazed up at him in the moonlight and she fought mightily to keep from
breaking down.  This wasn't about her and Mitch.  He was doing this for
Jonathan.  “For what?”

He tipped her
chin up with his fingers, grazed his rough, calloused hand along her jaw,
making her head spin.  “For being my friend.  I don't think I've ever had a
true friend like you.”

Tears sprang to
her eyes.  “Neither have I.”

He kissed her,
letting his lips linger on her mouth.  Her head spun in circles and she clung
to him to keep herself steady.  Yes, she was steady with Mitch in a way she
hadn't been on the reservation or in LA.  And it had nothing to do with where
she was.  It was how she felt when she was with Mitch.

After all this
time, she'd finally found a man she loved, and a friend like no other. 

She was going
to lose both. 

# # #

Chapter Eleven

“You want
what?”

Mitch had said
something like this was coming.  But actually hearing Lillian say the words
still threw Sara off balance.

Lillian stood
outside the downtown courthouse with her arms crossed in front of her, her
perfectly made up face smug.  “You heard me, Mitch.”  

“That's
blackmail,” Mitch said.

“You want to
keep the baby, you need to pay me to stay out of his life.”

“So all this
crap about wanting him back was a lie?” Sara shot back.  She took a step
forward, but Mitch held her back with his outstretched arm. 

It shouldn't
have shocked Sara so, but it did.  Mitch had been right all along.  Lillian had
been using Jonathan as a ploy to extort money from Mitch.  Nothing more. 
Knowing Mitch as she did, Lillian knew he would fall in love with his son and
pay any price to keep him.

“You can start
by writing out a check for half now.  Once the will has gone through probate
and you get the money from the trust, you can give me the rest.”

Mitch squeezed
Sara's hand a little too tightly before he caught himself and let go.  No doubt
he was trying to keep his anger in check after Lillian's revelation.

“How did you
know about the will?”

Lillian tilted
an eyebrow.  “Does it really matter?”

“It does to
me.” 

She sighed
impatiently.  “I met dear dad in Atlantic City, not long before you and I were
involved.  He told me about the will over the blackjack table and a bottle of
scotch.”

Mitch's face
registered pure shock, but the shock Sara felt had turned to betrayal.  How
could she have been so wrong?

“Before we
married,” he said tightly.  His laugh was bitter and hard.  “You and my old
man?”

Lillian
scowled.  “Please!  I recognized your father and struck up a conversation with
him.  Your father probably doesn't even remember meeting me or what he told
me.  And even if he did, it's his loss and my gain.”