A Rancher's Pride(34)

Kayla’s hands began moving.

“Now, young lady,” he said to her, “if you’re telling this little one to move, hold on, because she’s got my permission to sit here.”

As they watched, he swung the chair in a gentle circle, while Becky flipped her hands back and forth in the air. He waited till the chair came to a halt before turning back to them.

“Well, this is a surprise, isn’t it? I didn’t expect to see you two setting foot in my courtroom again so soon. What can I do for you?”

Sam hesitated, feeling like a danged fool for bringing Kayla in here. What could the judge do, anyhow?

Kayla didn’t believe anything Sam said. Hell, she didn’t even consider he’d told the truth about his own child. Why would she accept that he’d never touched his ex in anger?

“Judge—” He drew a deep breath, fighting humiliation at the thought of what he had to ask. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. For once, the overhead fan sat still, just when he needed it most. He brushed the moisture away.

“Judge Baylor,” he started again, “would you tell Becky’s aunt why my ex-wife was covered with cuts and bruises when she left town?”

The man’s brows leveled out, straightening almost into one solid line.

From her seat in the corner, Ellamae looked up.

Beside him, Sam could see Kayla tense.

“Well, Sam,” the judge drawled, looking from one to the other of them, “it’s not clear to me why I’m the one doing the telling. But you know I never mind giving out explanations.” He looked at Kayla. “Your sister got herself involved in an automobile accident.”

“When?” she asked.

“As I recall, this happened only a few days before she left Flagman’s Folly for good.”

“How do you know this?”

The judge frowned, and Sam knew she’d just crossed a line. But the man answered mildly enough. “It was common knowledge, practically soon as it happened.”

“I was on the volunteer rescue,” Ellamae spoke up. “She’d rolled her car into a drainage ditch between town and the ranch. Lordy, she’d gotten thrown around pretty bad. No seat belt.” She shook her head.

“Fortunately,” the judge added, “there were no other vehicles involved. And no other passengers.”

“I—I see.”

Sam heard Kayla give a deep sigh. When she turned toward him, he stiffened. She hadn’t trusted in his honesty before. Nothing she could say would make up for that now.

“I’m sorry.” She looked at him, her eyes shining. “I didn’t know—”

“Yeah.” He turned away, his step heavy. So, now she did know. The truth. It made no difference. Had he really expected it to change anything?

“Sam, please—” Her voice broke. She moved around to stand before him. “I’m truly sorry. I saw the cuts and bruises, and I only knew what Ronnie told me.”

From across the room, he heard Ellamae’s gasp.

Now she and the judge knew something, too, and they hadn’t had to work very hard making the leap to figure it out.

“Let’s just go,” he said.

She gestured to Becky, and a second later he heard sneakers on the wooden floor. He was about to start out of the courtroom when the judge called his name. Freezing in place, he took a deep breath. After what seemed a long while, he turned back.

First he looked down at Becky, standing beside him.

Then he looked at Ellamae, who stared, her eyes huge.

Finally he looked at Judge Baylor, the man who’d always managed to slap him down. The man who’d never let him forget his past. And who had the power to decide his future.

The judge came around his desk and rested one hand on the wooden railing in front of the row of spectator seats. Sam eyed him, saw the man’s knuckles tight on the rail and knew what to expect.

“I doubt you need me to put this in words,” the judge said, in the softest voice Sam had ever heard come from him. “But I’ll share it, anyway. You can’t take things out on this young lady for believing what your ex-wife said. We all know only what others are willing to tell.”

You could’ve heard a cactus flower drop to the floor in that room.

Even Becky, as if sensing something wrong, stood without moving.

He couldn’t look at Kayla. Didn’t want to see what would show in her face.

“Yeah,” he said at last, staring across the courtroom again. “Gotta hand it to you, Judge.” He laughed without humor. “You just summed up the whole history of my bad marriage, right there in that one short sentence.”