Rodeo Daughter (Harlequin American Romance) Page 8

“Mitch?” Leather soles slapped against tile. A slim figure appeared in the doorway. “Goodness, Mitch, it’s not even eight o’clock. Is everything all right?”

  He hesitated, taking a second to reconsider how much of the disastrous events he wanted to tell the neighborhood gossip. Surely Lydia didn’t need to know his daughter had been taken from him or that he’d been accused of harming her. Not when he had every confidence he’d be able to clear his name and get this mess ironed out in time to have her back in her own bed before everyone headed home after work.

  “Hailey’s in the hospital. She fell from the monkey bars right after you and the girls left the park last night.”

  Lydia’s eyes widened. “Oh goodness, Mitch. Is she okay?” Motioning him inside, she swung the screened door open.

  “Her shoulder dislocated, but they were able to reset it without surgery. The doctor—Scarletta—swears she’ll be fine.” As for himself, he might never recall the injury without feeling sick to his stomach.

  Lydia brightened. “He’s the best in the area. Everybody uses him.” Concern filled the look she sent over her shoulder to the kitchen table, where Emma and Reese had finished the last of their pancakes. “Girls, Hailey’s in the hospital. We’ll have to make cards for her this afternoon.”

  Her announcement started a clamor that didn’t calm down until long after Lydia had used the accident as a lesson to teach her own children the perils of breaking the rules.

  “Go upstairs now,” she said, just when Mitch was certain he’d grind his teeth into pulp if she didn’t let him get to the point. “Wash your face and hands, and brush your teeth. We don’t want to be late.” She aimed a sad smile his way. “Today’s my day for the car pool, but I have a few minutes. I’m so glad to hear Hailey’ll be okay. I just can’t imagine… Oh, where are my manners?” she asked, when she finally stopped chattering long enough to draw a breath. “Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee? Is there anything I can do?”

  Mitch ran a hand over his face. “I wouldn’t mind a cup. It’s been a long night.”

  “You must’ve been beside yourself.” Lydia settled a mug on a place mat. She scooted the sugar bowl across the table and gave him a once-over. A crease formed between her brows as she searched his face. “You need some ice for that bruise?”

  Mitch rubbed his jaw. So much for his hope that no one would notice. “Nah, it’s all right. I got clipped by one of Hailey’s shoes,” he said without giving details. Or answering questions about his daughter he wanted to avoid. Questions that would only lead in a direction he didn’t want to go.

  “Ouch. So, what can I do for you?” Lydia slid onto the chair at the opposite end of the table. “Are you considering filing a suit? Because I can tell you, that park belongs to the county. Not the homeowners association.”

  “Relax.” He swept a hand through the air. “The idea of suing never crossed my mind. Although I wouldn’t complain if those high bars disappeared.” He arched one brow pointedly.

  “I’ll make some phone calls. Whisper the right words in a few ears. Trust me, it’ll all be taken care of by the time Hailey’s ready to play in the park again.”

  From the firm set of Lydia’s jaw, Mitch had every confidence the woman would do whatever she set her mind to. A tiny chip of the weight he carried fell from his shoulders. He took a deep breath and dived into the heart of the matter.

  “There’s something else you can help me with. Did you notice the two boys on the basketball court yesterday?”

  “Now that you mention it, I did see them,” Lydia said. Her eyes narrowed. “They didn’t have anything to do with Hailey’s fall, did they?”

  “No. One of them—his friend called him Joey—phoned the ambulance, since I’d left my cell at the house.” The few sips of coffee he’d taken rolled uneasily in his stomach. “I didn’t get the other one’s name, but I’d sure like to find them. I was hoping you knew them.”

  The bangles on Lydia’s wrist jingled as she moved. The cheery notes grated on Mitch’s nerves.

  “Sorry.” Lydia checked her watch. “I didn’t really pay too much attention. You know the way kids gossip, though. Eventually, I’m sure we’ll hear all about it.” She stood and walked over to the staircase. “Girls, five minutes.”

  “Almost ready!”

  The sweet voices floated down from the second floor, reassuring their mom, but making it hard for Mitch to breathe. How long would it be before he heard Hailey’s voice echo through their house again? What if it never happened?

  He swallowed. Determined to take whatever steps were necessary to bring his daughter home where she belonged—no matter how much it hurt his reputation—he put the mug of coffee on the table.

  “Lydia, I can’t afford to wait. I need to get in touch with those kids now. They have to come forward and tell the authorities I didn’t hurt my daughter.”

  “What?” An odd look crossed Lydia’s face before her usual composure settled into place over it. Her full attention focused on him now, she strode quickly to his side. “What’s going on?”

  Mitch sighed. Much as he didn’t want to tell her the rest, there was no way around it if he was going to get her help.

  “Somehow, DCF got involved. An allegation of child abuse was raised. They’re threatening to take Hailey away from me.”

  “Oh, every parent’s nightmare,” Lydia whispered. She shook herself. “Of course, that’s ridiculous. I know you, Mitch. You’ve been nothing but a devoted father. If there’s anything I can do—write a letter, speak on your behalf, anything…”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that. But finding those boys is my best hope.”

  “Let me check with a few people.” Lydia frowned and fussed with her nails. “Do you know Cheryl Johnson? She lives two streets over. Her nephews live in Tampa, but they come here to surf quite often. I’ll check and see if they were in town this weekend.”

  Despite the coffee he’d swallowed, Mitch’s stomach felt hollow. Tampa was three hours away.

  “You think you could call her now?”

  But Lydia was already shaking her head. “Cheryl works the seven-to-three shift at the Space Center. I won’t be able to reach her until late this afternoon.” Her voice went soft as footsteps sounded on the staircase. “I’ll call you later and let you know what I find out.”

  His neighbor raised a finger to her lips. “Thanks for stopping by, Mitch. Give my best to Hailey.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she propelled him to the door. “And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone more than I absolutely have to.”

  Moments later, Mitch spotted Esmeralda’s car parked at the curb outside his house. With part one of his plan to get Hailey home temporarily stalled, bringing the housekeeper up to speed moved to the top of his list. He hurried inside, where he broke the news of Hailey’s accident as gently as possible.

  “Things aren’t going well with the custody case,” he admitted. “And now, with Hailey getting hurt, the judge said she needs to live with her mother for a while.”

  Quickly, he explained the arrangement he’d worked out, reassuring the housekeeper that the situation was only temporary. Esme considered her options briefly while Mitch held his breath. Once she agreed, he did his best to ease the transition by giving her the day off. As soon as she headed out, he grabbed the suitcase he’d repacked in the wee hours of the morning, along with a large tote practically overflowing with Hailey’s favorite toys, her DVD player, movies. On top of the pile lay Mrs. Giggles. Mitch loaded them all into the car and tried to overlook the way his hands were shaking by the time he finished.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into an empty parking lot. He settled back to wait, needing to get his head straight before he spoke with the woman who had once been the girl of his dreams. He’d seen the censure and disbelief in her eyes last night. How she, of all people, could think he’d ever harm his daughter was beyond him. But there it was. She did. It was up to him to convince her otherwise.

  * * *

 
AMANDA RUBBED HER BLURRY, sleep-deprived eyes. Though her vision cleared, the unmistakable shape of Mitch Goodwin remained bathed in early-morning sunlight. Much as she hated to admit it, the man did wonders for a business suit. His jacket hung from shoulders so wide they cast a shadow over a good-size stretch of earth. She couldn’t see his trim waist, but thanks to a light breeze, his legs were a different story. The fabric of his slacks molded to them, outlining every muscle and stirring a very unadversarial warmth through her midsection.

  What was Mitch doing outside her office? He couldn’t possibly think he had the right to show up whenever he felt like it, could he?

  Apparently he did.

  By the time she put her car in Park and turned off the engine, he hovered just beyond her door. Amanda closed her eyes and reached for the one image guaranteed to strengthen her resolve against having anything to do with him. She pictured the little girl she’d spent the night sitting beside. The one whose small figure had been dwarfed by the huge bed, her tiny arm swathed in ACE bandages. Hailey had spent a comfortable night and was scheduled for release before noon. She’d slept until Karen arrived shortly before breakfast. Amanda was glad for that, but it didn’t change a thing where she and Mitch were concerned.

  She was an officer of the court. Mitch’s ex-wife’s attorney. And the one assigned to oversee any contact he had with his daughter. She wasn’t going to cut him any slack just because they’d danced together a few weeks ago or spent one summer thinking they were in love.

  Her lips thinned. Her shoulders firmed. Filled with new resolve, she grabbed her briefcase from the seat beside her and opened her car door. Her resolution faced its first test when Mitch invaded her personal space.

  “Amanda. I thought Hailey might need these.”

  For the first time, she noticed the suitcase at Mitch’s feet and the overstuffed shopping bag hanging from his fingers. Her eyes lingered on the items. Bringing his daughter’s clothes and favorite toys was something only a caring, concerned father would do. But that didn’t make a difference.

  The man had been accused of harming his child. Whether he was guilty or not, it was her job to make sure Hailey was safe.

  She hit a button and the liftgate on the Suburban rose. “You can put them in there.” She gestured toward the storage area behind the seats. “I’ll make sure Karen gets them.”

  Once the items were stowed, Amanda pulled herself erect and, brandishing her briefcase like a shield, aimed her feet toward the property she’d spent three months and the last of her savings turning into a law office. She crossed her fingers, hoping that would be the end of it, praying that Mitch, having delivered Hailey’s suitcase, would get in his car and drive away.

  She should have known better.

  As a teen he’d been the very definition of persistence. That was before he’d grown into an adult who was used to having people do what he wanted, when he wanted. The man didn’t give up easily. He fell into step beside her.

  “Amanda, hold up a minute.” His voice was uncomfortably close to her shoulder. “You know me. You have to know I didn’t do this. You know I’d never hurt anyone.”

  The trouble was, she didn’t.

  “You punched your brother. You hurt him.”

  “Kid stuff. Brother stuff. It happened ages ago.” Though Mitch’s voice sounded dismissive, his footsteps faltered.

  For a few seconds, Amanda let herself believe she’d won the round, that the man who had cost her more than one night’s sleep would leave. But no, he’d only slowed long enough to pull his cell phone from his pocket and check the screen. At the door, she juggled her briefcase and purse, inserting the key in the lock, then breezing in to turn off the burglar alarm. When she started down the hall, Mitch was right on her heels.

  He waited until they were in her office before he spoke again. “I’ve never in my life raised a hand to anyone except my brother. And I’ve never struck my daughter. Not in anger. Not for any reason.”

  “If that’s true, why is Hailey in the hospital? Why is your face bruised? And why were you banned from seeing her? Why?”

  A horrified look dropped over Mitch’s handsome features. “I understood when you didn’t speak up for me last night. You are Karen’s attorney, after all. But seriously? You honestly think I hurt my daughter?” He squinted against the sunlight that poured through wide window slats.

  Amanda sighed. It wasn’t up to her to believe him or not. For that, she had to trust Judge Dobson and Sarah Magarity. How things progressed from this point forward, however, was up to her. Mitch, obviously, needed to understand the ground rules.

  “I know you can’t see her unless I’m in the same room.”

  “For now.” His chiseled features turned hard and unyielding. “With or without your help, I intend to track down the two witnesses from the park. Once they explain I did nothing wrong, I’ll have Hailey back home by the end of the week.”

  Okay, so apparently he hadn’t been listening when Judge Dobson announced his travel plans. After all that had transpired last night, she could understand how Mitch might have missed a detail or two toward the end of what had been a tumultuous evening. Then again, maybe he’d been too busy checking his cell phone. She watched in disbelief as he retrieved it and glanced at the screen again now.

  “Seeing as Dobson left for the mountains this morning and won’t be back until mid-October, I wouldn’t count on it.”

  Mitch looked up from the phone. His lips parted. “That’s two months from now. There has to be some way around him. Another judge to fill in? Something?”

  “’Fraid not.” The situation was out of her hands. Even if the family court docket hadn’t already been straining at the seams, Dobson was the only judge in the county willing to handle proceedings against the D.A.’s right-hand man.

  She watched as the reality of the situation dawned on Mitch. His shoulders rounded. His head hung. His hand, the one holding the phone, dropped to his side. On the screen, a digital clock counted down the seconds until nine. He thumbed a button and the screen went dark. He spun away from her, striding to the windows.

  A full minute passed before his strangled voice whispered through the room. “In that case, we need to arrange a schedule.” His fingers danced over the keys on his phone. “I want to see Hailey as soon as possible. Tonight.”

  “Whoa, Counselor.” Amanda held up one hand. Like it or not, Judge Dobson had put her in charge. She wasn’t about to start off by letting Mitch dictate when and how they’d handle visitation. “We’ll do this on my schedule, not yours. Which means during normal business hours.” She flipped through the pages of her desk calendar. “Wednesday at ten is my earliest opening.”

  When Mitch gave his cell phone another glance, Amanda fought the urge to rip the device from his grip and hurl it across the room. Clearly, the man’s priorities were a complete mess if he was more interested in watching the clock than arranging time with his daughter.

  “Am I keeping you from something?” She didn’t bother to tamp down the sarcasm.

  “As a matter of fact, I’m scheduled to be at the courthouse in twenty minutes. Dobson isn’t the only stickler for punctuality.” The edges of Mitch’s perfect lips tightened. “Wednesday morning won’t work.” He ground out each word. “Hailey will be in school.”

  Amanda nodded, conceding he had a point. It was important to retain as much of Hailey’s normal schedule as possible. “Okay, we’ll meet after school.” She flipped to the next page. “What about Thursday afternoon?”

  When Mitch turned the date down, explaining he’d be in court, Amanda eyed him tightly.

  “Are you in trial?”

  He nodded. “Back-to-back cases all week.”

  Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help feeling a little in awe of a guy who could focus on his job after having his life ripped apart. She weighed a hastily narrowing set of options. Between meetings with clients and her own appearances in family court, her days started at nine and lasted until
well past a young child’s bedtime. “Looks like Sunday afternoon is our only option. If Karen agrees, we’ll meet here from two until six.”

  “Noon to five. At my house.” Mitch’s gaze swept floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the small seating area. “There’s nothing for us to do here except sit and stare at each other.”

  Amanda crossed her arms. “There’s a playroom down the hall. Books, games, a TV. A small refrigerator for snacks. You’ll meet there. From two until six. It’s that or nothing.”

  Though she wasn’t sure whether the granite in her voice or the clock tipped the scales in her favor, Mitch acquiesced to her demands. As he hurried from her office, she suspected the latter.

  And wasn’t that the heart of the custody case she’d prepared against him?

  Amanda sighed. She’d grown up with career-driven parents. She knew what it was like to settle for dribs and drabs of their time, always vying to be good enough—or bad enough—to earn their attention. She wanted better for Hailey, for every child.

  Mitch’s work schedule overwhelmed his life. Even now, when the most important thing in the world should have been arranging to see his daughter, the man was in a hurry to get to court. Not only did that make him poor parent material, it made him a terrible partner for someone determined to make home and family their number one priority.

  Someone like her.

  Where had that come from?

  Amanda threaded her fingers through her hair. She wasn’t looking for a husband. Or even interested in starting a relationship. If she were, it wouldn’t be with Mitch Goodwin. She’d crossed his name off her list after the Saddle Up Stampede. Now that she’d been tasked with supervising his visits with Hailey, she had all the more reason to keep her distance from the confirmed workaholic, dreamy blue eyes or not.

  Chapter Six

  “Where’s my daddy?” Hailey clutched a bedraggled doll to her chest. Tears ran down the little girl’s cheeks and her head swung from side to side, the motion sending her tangled hair flying. Her arm escaped the sling around her neck and, using her freed hand, she brushed dark strands from her face. Her feet drummed the floor. “Where is he?” she demanded.