The Last Letter(73)

“Do you want to parent the kids?” Mark looked straight at Beckett.

“Yes,” he answered without a second thought. “I love them. Nothing would make me happier than to protect them like this, to give them whatever I can.”

“You’re going to have to do a little better than that with Judge Iverson. He’s a softy for Ella, always has been, but you’re not a local. He’s not going to trust you just because you showed up for some soccer practices.”

Beckett took a deep breath and toyed with his glass. “I didn’t have a father growing up. A lot of guys who hit first, or just generally ignored me, but no one I considered a dad. When Colt and I were walking back across the field after a soccer game, he asked if that was what having a dad felt like, and I couldn’t tell him yes, because I didn’t know—and he didn’t know, either. I want Colt and Maisie to know what it feels like to have a dad—in whatever capacity Ella would let me be there for them. I just want to be the guy they can depend on.”

“That’s pretty much the definition of fatherhood, and I think you’d hold up just fine in court. It’s not fraud if you are adopting so that you can help raise them. The insurance is definitely a perk, though—one that Judge Iverson would see. But he lost his wife to cancer about ten years back, so I honestly think you’ve got a good shot that he’d choose to see it as just that: a perk and not the reason. Would the lack of rights bother you?”

He shook his head. “Maisie dying bothers me. I would never take anything from Ella that she didn’t want to give, and I’d never do anything that would hurt the kids.”

I thought of the pictures the nurses had shown me of the little graduation ceremony that Beckett had given Maisie. She loved him. Colt loved him just as much, and I was right there with him. They already had so much to lose when it came to Beckett.

“Would they have to know? Right away, at least?” I blurted out. He could absolutely hurt the kids the minute he walked away. To give them a dad just to take him away was cruel. Once Maisie was in the clear—hoping Beckett was still content in Telluride that far in the future—we could tell them…once her heart was strong enough to withstand the potential fallout of the opposite being true.

Beckett went stiff, but his gaze stayed steady and unwavering in Mark’s direction.

“Uh…” Mark’s eyes shifted between us. “I guess not? Kids don’t have to be informed or give consent until they’re twelve. We’d just have to talk to Judge Iverson. Seeing how he’s always favored you, and his hatred of the Danburys, well, I think we could sway him to agree.”

“So we could really do it?” I asked, that tiny flame of hope flaring up again. “Even though we’re not married?”

“Marriage might be the easier route,” Mark said with a shrug.

“I just can’t. Not after what happened last time. I’m in no rush to get a ring on it.”

“Which is exactly what you should tell Judge Iverson if he asks. Our definition of family has changed a ton in the last couple of decades, and marriage isn’t the determining factor anymore. And, since you’re the children’s mother, and they’re not wards of the state or anything, the only complication would really be Judge Iverson’s opinion. A single man can absolutely adopt his partner’s children without them being married. You guys just might have to play up the partner part a little.”

My cheeks warmed. I hadn’t had a “partner” since Jeff, and he wasn’t really ever that, anyway.

“So basically I’d be trading my sole decision-making rights, and that’s it?”

“Basically.” He fiddled with his wineglass as he watched us, his eyes seeing way too much.

“But you’d be gaining Maisie’s life,” Beckett answered. “And you know I’d never do anything that would cross you when it came to the kids. I’m not some villain. I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” I said softly, and I did, but trust wasn’t something I handed out like candy.

“There’s one catch. You’re going to have to get Jeff to sign over his parental rights.”

Pretty sure a nuclear bomb going off would have had less impact on my heart.

“Why? He’s not on the birth certificate, and the kids are MacKenzies, not Danburys.”

“Ella, everyone knows Jeff is the father. Whether or not you admit it on the birth certificate doesn’t eliminate his rights. One paternity test and the adoption would be voided. I’m not saying he’d ever exercise his rights, but the judge is going to require the release. No release. No adoption.”

“Right,” I replied, my voice almost mouselike. I didn’t want to see Jeff. Ever. That was like ripping open a fully healed scar just for fun.

We thanked Mark, Beckett paid for dinner, and we left, riding back to the house in a tense silence.

“What way are you leaning?” Beckett asked as we pulled through Solitude’s gate.

“The way that doesn’t require me seeing Jeff.” I slammed my eyes shut. “That’s a lie. I know what you’re offering is a godsend, not just for Maisie, but for Colt. For me. I just can’t bear the idea of having to ask him for anything.”

“I’ll handle Jeff,” Beckett promised. “Besides, he’d probably run screaming if you showed up. At least I can blindside him.”