We both slowly turned our heads to look at her with wide eyes.
“You did what?” Dad asked as he slid in next to me.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” she told him with a wifely smile that said he was better off not knowing.
“You talking about those boxes full of Cam’s things she had stacked in her closet for years?” he asked.
We all gawked at him.
“You knew?” I asked.
His jaw flexed twice. “I’m stubborn, Willow. Not stupid.”
I blinked, and then it hit me. “Wait, what are you doing—?”
“All rise!” Peter Mayville called out, and we did so. “The Alba Municipal Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Deborah Wilson presiding.”
My gaze snapped to my father, who stood, chin raised over an expertly knotted tie, as he watched someone else take his seat at the bench.
“You may be seated,” a feminine voice declared.
I was all too happy to, considering I already felt like I’d been knocked on my ass.
Peter announced the case, but all I heard was a buzzing in my head. “Dad?” I whispered, unable to look anywhere else.
He gave me a tight-lipped smile but didn’t speak.
“Good morning, all three Mr. Danielses,” Judge Wilson greeted the men facing her, and I took her in for the first time. She was about the same age as Dad, with classically beautiful Korean features and an equally classic French twist in her hair.
“Your Honor, if I may.” Milton Sanders stood. “We were told this case would be heard by Judge Bradley.” His voice pitched higher than usual as he finished.
I felt the weight of a thousand stares in our direction.
“Yes,” Judge Wilson responded with a smile. “I apologize for the confusion and the last-minute switch. Judge Bradley informed me he needed to recuse himself and asked if I would mind driving up to hear the case rather than going through a reschedule so close to the date. Since I had an opening, I agreed.”
Milton paled. “Thank you for the explanation, Your Honor. Could you tell us when the request was made?”
“Last night. Apparently, his daughter is in a relationship with one of the parties, and he felt he couldn’t be impartial.” She adjusted her thin-framed glasses. “The docket has been updated online, naturally.”
“Of course, Your Honor.” He leaned down and conferred with Xander as the courtroom buzzed with muffled commentary. “Your Honor, my client would like to request a continuance.”
“On what grounds?” she asked.
“On the grounds that this last-minute change has left us at a disadvantage and we’ll need extra time to prepare.” Milton sounded rockier than his reasoning.
“Your request is denied. An impartial judge is an impartial judge, and I assure you that I couldn’t care less about where Judge Bradley is seated. Also, the court psychologist has assured me that Arthur Daniels is capable of testimony today, and that’s not something I’m willing to risk losing, given his diagnosis. We’ll proceed as planned.”
Milton’s shoulders sagged as he sat.
“Mr. Robinson, since your client has moved to change the guardianship of Arthur Daniels, the floor is yours,” Judge Wilson stated.
As Simon stood to give his opening, I looked at Dad. “You recused yourself?” Emotion tangled my tongue and clogged my throat.
His eyes met mine, softening exponentially. “I’m stubborn, Willow. Not stupid,” he repeated with a wry smile. “I’ve presided over thousands of cases, and none of them—including this one—is worth losing my daughter over.” He looked around my head. “Either of my daughters.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Just remember that I’m sitting with you, Willow. You and Charity and your mother. Not him.” He nodded toward Cam. “You.”
“That’s more than enough.” I smiled slowly, and when I turned to watch Simon start his delivery, I caught Charity nodding at Dad.
Both sides delivered an opening, stating their cases as to why Art’s guardian should be their client. Both stood firmly on their stance with the DNR.
Cam was first on the stand.
He answered Simon’s questions easily, telling the judge about the voicemail that had brought him home and what it had been like to see Art on the respirator after he’d been poisoned by carbon monoxide.
“He did well,” Dad whispered as Milton rose to question Cam. “Strong, clear voice, sound reasoning, and no ill will harbored toward Xander. Very well.”
“If you ever decide to give up the bench, you could always go for a career in courtroom commentating,” I whispered.
He shot me a look that said he’d rather die.
Milton started in hard on Cam, asking about his estrangement with Art over the last decade. He then moved on to his return to Alba and painted a picture of Cam being an unstable drifter who couldn’t be depended on to stick around.
“On the contrary,” Cam argued. “I own property in Alba, have a voting membership in the Historical Society, and have two properties included in the district, one of which is projected to increase the income of the town by fifty percent. I’m in a committed relationship and recently offered my civil-engineering skills to the town’s electric company to upgrade Alba’s energy supply. The fact that I served in the military—as both my brothers also did—doesn’t make me a nomad.”
Milton flushed, and I almost fist pumped.
“What financial gain do you stand to receive in the event of Arthur Daniels’s death?” Milton asked, flipping through his file.
“I don’t understand the question,” Cam stated, his posture straight and his face relaxed.
“I mean that you’re pushing hard for a do-not-resuscitate order for a fifty-eight-year-old man. Isn’t it true that you stand to gain fifty percent of Arthur’s considerable land and financial holdings when he passes?” Milton’s insinuation sent a murmur through the crowd.
Judge Wilson looked over her glasses at Cam.
“I don’t stand to gain anything,” Cam stated.
“I’m sorry, but that’s just not true. His will states that you three receive equal shares, and since Sullivan has passed on, that leaves you and Xander at fifty percent.”
Cam blinked and looked at Simon.
“Your Honor, it appears Mr. Sanders is working off an older copy of Mr. Daniels’s will. If I could supply both him and the court with the valid copy?” Simon offered.