“Oh, you didn’t,” the warden said.
“Someone looked bad with what happened,” Nate said.
“Yeah,” Warden Dickerson said. “But not really. What we got to show the public was that our residential programs have failsafes in place, and the system works. Ginger called. We came. You got apprehended.”
“I came back,” Nate said dryly.
The Warden grinned and pocketed the handcuffs meant to go around Nate’s wrists. “And it all worked out.”
Sure, Nate thought. Everything seemed to work out for everyone but him. He knew that was his fault, though, and he was going to own the decisions he’d made that had gotten him to this point in his life.
They walked down the hall together, and the Warden handed Nate the cuffs at the exit. He couldn’t go walking around the grounds without being restrained, but the Warden let Nate put the cuffs on himself, so they weren’t terribly tight.
He rode to the courthouse, the sun reminding him that the world hadn’t come to an end. He went inside through a side door, and he sat at the table with Lawrence, who looked at him with pinched lines around his eyes, almost a glare of annoyance though Nate kept his bills paid.
Nate didn’t have to apologize to his lawyer, so he didn’t. At the same time, he’d probably cost the man a lot of sleepless nights, so he leaned close to Lawrence and said, “I’m sorry, Lawrence. How are things going with the adoption?”
“They’re on hold,” Lawrence said. “Depending on what happens today, we’ll see what I can do.”
Nate nodded, and Judge Billings came through the corner door, and everyone rose. Nate had been in court many times, and he could stand and sit without specific direction from his brain. The judge read the issue at hand, and Lawrence stood up.
“I want to hear from Nathaniel,” Judge Billings said. His eyes bored a hole into Nate’s. “Step up to the mic, son.”
It had been a very long time since anyone had called Nate “son,” but he did what the judge asked. “You left the center with the child you’ve been entrusted with?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?”
Nate held his head high as he related the same story he’d given to Ginger, and Nick, and the Warden. His Lawyer. His mother. Spencer. Ward, though his brother hadn’t responded.
“So you went to rescue the person you’d drawn into your scheme?”
“It wasn’t a scheme, Your Honor,” Nate said. “This particular investment and payout was legal. It was Oscar who didn’t want the full payment in one lump sum. I guess he can’t move that much cash safely, and that is not my fault.”
“We’ll agree to disagree on that, Mister Mulbury,” the judge said, glancing down. “All right. Do you have anyone present in the courtroom today to speak for you?”
Nate didn’t even have to check behind him. His parents wouldn’t make such a long drive for a hearing like this. Bethany had her hands full. Nate was on his own, and he felt it more keenly in that moment than any other.
“No, sir,” he said, his throat tightening.
“Yes, he does,” someone said, and Nate spun around to see Warden Dickerson pushing his way into the courtroom.
“Warden, you can’t be a character witness for an inmate,” Judge Billings said.
“I’m not,” the Warden said. He stepped to the side, and Ginger stood there.
Nate’s heart swelled so big, it stuck in the back of his throat. That blasted hope that he hadn’t managed to scrub from his soul ballooned, lighting up the room and making his spirits soar. Their eyes met, and time slowed to nothing. Everything fell away, and it was just Ginger and Nate. Nate and Ginger.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” the judge asked.
Ginger cleared her throat and tugged on the hem of her pink blouse. She’d paired it with a black pencil skirt and a sensible pair of heels. She strode forward and said, “Ginger Talbot, sir. And I’m here as a character witness for Nathaniel Mulbury.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ginger worked to keep her hands at her sides instead of fidgeting with the folder she’d brought with her or adjusting her clothes. She’d already pulled down her already perfectly flat shirt.
She could feel the magnetism of Nate, and she also had to work not to turn and stare at him. Whispers ran through the courtroom, though there weren’t very many people there.
“Ginger Talbot,” the judge said. She couldn’t remember his name, but he looked like a wise, no-nonsense man she wouldn’t want to cross. “You own Hope Eternal Ranch, correct?”
“Yes, sir. Your Honor. Yes.” She cleared her throat and wished she’d accepted the bottle of water the Warden had offered her. Her head spun, because she still couldn’t believe she was here.
The judge peered over the top of his glasses at her. “Mister Mulbury worked at your ranch for almost four months, correct?”
“That’s right,” she said.
“Tell me about how it went.” He settled back into his seat and crossed his arms.
Ginger took a deep breath and opened her folder. She and Emma had been up for the last two nights to prepare the contents in the folder. When Ginger had finally admitted that she couldn’t go to work around the ranch as if she didn’t know Nate had a hearing this afternoon, everyone had chipped in to help her.
“Nate is an excellent cowboy,” Ginger said, her voice shaking the tiniest bit. She really didn’t want the judge to know how she felt about Nate, but Spencer and Emma had told her that it was obvious she was in love with him.
“I only have to look at you for half a second to see how miserable you are,” Emma said.
“Just go talk to him and get him back,” Spencer had said.
“Everyone knows you’re in love with him but you,” Nick had told her.
The last month had been torture for Ginger, and she’d spent a lot of time walking the road she and Nate had used to stroll together, wondering where she’d gone wrong. Nick had finally texted her in all caps: IT’S NOT WRONG TO FALL IN LOVE.
She cleared her throat and continued with, “Not only that, but he stepped up to the challenge of becoming an instant father. He was always concerned about Connor, his four-year-old nephew, and I have several statements from the cowboys that he lived with about how Nate would sit with Connor in the bathroom while the boy bathed, reading to him from a paperback book, doing voices for the different characters.”
She tried to breathe and focus on the letters that formed the words on the page in front of her. She did not want to cry in court, not in front of the judge. Certainly not in front of Nate. She’d never witnessed the reading during bath time, but it was just so Nate, and she wished she had.
“He always made sure Connor had what he needed, and most of what he wanted. We all helped take care of Connor on the ranch, and we’ve all grown to love him. But none as much as Nate, obviously.” She shuffled her papers, because she had too much evidence, she was sure. “And Your Honor, Connor loves Nate with his whole heart.”
She paused again, this time not caring that her voice had pitched up slightly. “Just this morning, when I went into his bedroom to tell him I was coming to speak for Nate, he said, ‘Tell Daddy I love him.’”