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A Family for Tyler
Angel Smits
Family sticks together, no matter what!Wyatt Hawkins takes care of his family. So when he discovers he has a nephew, he vows to be there for Tyler until his father returns from overseas. Too bad the smart—and beautiful—judge in their custody case is interfering with Wyatt’s intention. He has to convince Judge Emily Ivers he’s good for Tyler!But she seems to have strong feelings about a single rancher raising a child and Wyatt can’t help wonder why. Is it the attraction between them? Or maybe it has something to do with the sadness he sees in her eyes. Maybe his nephew’s heart isn’t the only that needs healing…
Family sticks together, no matter what!
Wyatt Hawkins takes care of his family. So when he discovers he has a nephew, he vows to be there for Tyler until his father returns from overseas. Too bad the smart—and beautiful—judge in their custody case is interfering with Wyatt’s intention. He has to convince Judge Emily Ivers he’s good for Tyler!
But she seems to have strong feelings about a single rancher raising a child and Wyatt can’t help but wonder why. Is it the attraction between them? Or maybe it has something to do with the sadness in her eyes. Maybe his nephew’s heart isn’t the only one that needs healing….
“Ms. Ivers, I realize you have your concerns, but don’t judge me before you know me.”
Wyatt looked away briefly before turning his intense gaze to Emily. “I’ve been taking care of Tyler just fine these past weeks.”
Wyatt’s laughter was gone now, and Emily realized she’d squandered her opportunity to see the smile she’d wondered about earlier. He’d moved into her space, and she wanted desperately to move away. The cool glass of the window at her back stopped her. She looked up and realized how tall he was. And how close.
“I’m only trying—”
“To do your job? I know.” Wyatt’s voice softened. Could he actually have moved closer? “Don’t be the judge right now. Save that for the actual courtroom. You said you’d be the caseworker. Be that now and let me show you I can do this.”
Dear Reader,
Quite frequently I’m asked about where I get my ideas for stories. Most of the time I shrug and can’t quite pinpoint the exact thing that helped form the idea. This time, however, I have an answer.
Every Thursday night you’ll find me at my local bookstore, writing at my Improvisation Writers Group. We give each other prompts and then take off writing. A CHAIR AT THE HAWKINS TABLE came from one of those prompts and a discussion with my friend Helen. She shared with us of how she and her siblings had recently gone to clean out their mother’s house. They’d each returned home with one of the chairs from the dining room set because they had always gathered there, and the chairs reminded them of all those memories.
That night, the Hawkins clan was born. They’ve filled my mind, my imagination and my heart ever since. Especially Tyler, who I have to warn you, is a heart stealer.
Oddly enough, all the brothers and sisters didn’t come to me in order, or all at once. Wyatt has proven to be the most obstinate, as if he didn’t really want me to get to know him. But Emily and her protected, soft heart were just too much for him. He had to come out to find her. I think he feels it was worth it.
I hope you enjoy their story as much as I have. And thank you for taking the time to have a seat and read their story.
Hearing from readers always makes my day. If you’re so inclined, angel@angelsmits.com is the best way to do that. I look forward to hearing from you.
Happy reading!
Angel Smits
A Family for Tyler
Angel Smits
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Angel Smits lives in Colorado with her husband, daughter and brand-new puppy. (What was she thinking?) She thought winning the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award was the highlight of her writing career, until her first Harlequin book hit the shelves. Then all bets were off. Sky’s the limit now. Her background in social work helps inspire the characters in her books while improv writing gives her the means to torture those characters. It’s a rough job, but someone’s got to do it.
I’ve been blessed in my life to have grown up in a close family, and to have built one of my own with my husband, Ron. But there are two people who complete our home. Jennifer and Joseph, you are, without a doubt, the best kids I could ever ask for. Thanks for putting up with all that goes with having a writer for a mom—and for not thinking I’m too crazy. I love you both.
Contents
Chapter One (#u051fb26a-53e9-5bde-b12c-ca4066c63ce3)
Chapter Two (#u81b9d5de-c238-5b5a-a52a-4e30e0459f12)
Chapter Three (#u9fca4546-0eb1-5e33-902b-f751629e8da9)
Chapter Four (#u6298ea84-4bb9-5fc7-8e87-224711cbdf14)
Chapter Five (#u3419c94d-0446-5649-8192-104183e83866)
Chapter Six (#u322ee273-971a-5826-bb73-41f0e6ab20ba)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
WYATT HAWKINS PULLED his black 4x4 pickup into the familiar drive and killed the engine. The huge truck was well suited for the wide Texas plains of his ranch, but here in Austin, at Mom’s house with all these close-knit homes, it seemed out of place. He stayed in the cab and stared through the dirt-streaked windshield at the place he still considered home.
But without Mom, it would never be the same.
The faint sound of footsteps made him glance in the rearview mirror. His sister Addie headed up the walk. Her shoulder-length blond hair and flowing black skirt rippled in the breeze. She stopped at the truck door and rapped, unnecessarily, on the window. He rolled the glass down and peered into her tired, sad face.
“You ready for this?” he whispered, hoping she’d say no and let them all off the hook. Being Addie, she didn’t, of course.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said on a deep sigh.
She hesitated a moment, then kept walking to the front door as if she knew by stopping she might never get started again. Wyatt climbed out of the truck and silently followed.
She unlocked the front door and pushed the heavy wood open.
The door didn’t smack against the wall like it had when they’d barreled through as children. Nor did the hinges squeal to remind Dad it was time to oil them.
It simply opened to a dark, musty room. A house full of stuff but empty of people.
Just then, a red convertible parked across the street. Both Wyatt and Addie turned to watch their younger sister Mandy climb out, her long blond hair shining in the sun. Her sky-high heels tapped across the paved street as she headed toward them.
Right behind her, the bumper of Tara’s Jeep almost kissed the chrome of the convertible. The engine rattled a moment after she turned it off. There was no door on the side of the vehicle to slam. She simply swung her legs out and landed on sneaker-clad feet and trotted up the walk.
The shiny gray Lexus that pulled into the drive next would normally turn heads, but they were all used to Jason’s flash. Even his black suit looked polished to a glow.
Last, as always, DJ arrived on his monstrous motorcycle, gliding up to the curb and just barely stopping from parking on Mom’s pristine lawn. After removing his dark helmet, he cut the rough engine and silence returned to the quiet neighborhood.
They were all here.
No one spoke a word. Wyatt watched his brothers and sisters traipse in one by one. His family. Three of the six wore sunglasses, even as they entered the dim interior of the house.
Oddly enough, they passed the living room, the front hall and, in a long-honed habit, settled around the kitchen table. Six chairs. Six kids. No need to pull out the spare ones in the hall closet. They hadn’t used them that often anyway, since they’d seldom all been home at the same time.
“Looks like we’re all here.” DJ spoke first, rubbing his hand over his military buzz cut as if even after two years, he still wasn’t used to it.
“I guess we should have brought lunch.” Tara’s voice sounded too much like Mom’s. They all smiled, missing the woman they’d said a permanent goodbye to only a few hours ago.
The laughter and tears mingled. The sunglasses came off and the healing began.
“Mom loved this room.” Tara stood and went to the cupboard. The coffee, sugar and creamer were just where Mom had always kept them. She started a pot and plunked the containers on the table.
“We all did,” Wyatt agreed, walking to the silverware drawer where he pulled out five spoons. Wyatt didn’t need one. He took his coffee black.
As the coffee brewed and they fixed their cups, they talked. Voices overlapped and memories entwined. Even Jason relaxed, pulling off his jacket and rolling up his pristine shirtsleeves. Mandy’s heels fell to the floor in a mangled heap of leather. “This feels right,” she said as she rubbed her toes.
Addie smiled sadly. “Mom would have liked this—us all here together.”
Wyatt silently leaned on the counter as Addie’s words jabbed at his heart. She was right. If only they’d taken more time when Mom was alive. Sipping his coffee, he took in the view. Normally this group was a rowdy, teasing, rambunctious bunch. Today, rightfully so, they were quiet. He missed them all, missed who they were. Not just because Mom was gone, and they’d just come from the cemetery...but because they were all scattered across the country and he didn’t see them often. Who knew when, or if, they’d ever be together again.
Addie was the only one who still lived in Austin. But the wear and tear of caring for Mom as she’d battled cancer showed on Addie’s face. He set his cup down and reached out to rub her shoulders.
She’d filled her coffee cup first yet it was the fullest. Not because she’d been doing most of the talking, either. He watched her, feeling the tension in her shoulders, noting the circles beneath her eyes. She’d been Mom’s caregiver clear up until the end. He’d helped when he could, driving in every weekend to give her a break, but the ranch was a full-time operation two hours away, never mind that he hadn’t known what to do. The toll that the past few months had taken showed in the lines around Addie’s eyes.
She turned her cup around, the ceramic making a soft grinding sound against the old wood. She turned it again. And yet a third time. He knew, without being told, that she was formulating what to say. He almost held his breath waiting for her.
“Those last couple days,” she began.
Wyatt reached out, as if subconsciously thinking he could stop her. Then he had to stop himself. She needed to say this.
She took a deep breath and started again. “The social worker at the hospice called it life review,” she whispered. “Mom talked about her childhood. I learned a lot about her family. Stories I’d never heard before.” She didn’t go into those stories, but he saw everyone perk up, hoping, like him, that she would.
The silence grew and for a minute Wyatt thought maybe Addie had decided not to go on. Tara spoke up first. “What kinds of things did she talk about?”
Tara looked ready to break. The youngest, she’d always been coddled by them. While that babying hadn’t necessarily been the best for encouraging Tara to grow up, the old habits helped Addie regroup. She shook off the trance and faintly smiled at Tara.
“Lots of things. I...I started writing them down. I’ll get them together for you all. But I think there’s one story you should hear now.” Addie took a deep breath. “About a week ago, we were sitting out on that big old porch. The orderly, William, you all met him?” She looked around and they all nodded. He was a big man with a gentle touch. “He carried her out there, all wrapped up in that quilt Aunt Bess gave her. We sat out on the swing.”
Addie cleared her throat and took a deep swallow of her obviously cooled coffee. Everyone waited. “She told me about when she met Daddy.”
Wyatt smiled. He’d always thought it was strange that his sisters, well into their adult years, still referred to their father as Daddy. Now he appreciated the affection that went with the moniker.
“I’d never heard her talk about that,” Addie continued. “Did you know he used to drive a cattle truck out to her dad’s ranch? Out where you live, Wyatt. He’d come out every week, just about the time she was getting off school. He’d pick her up and drive her the rest of the way home.”
Jason chuckled, the lawyer in him coming out. “Nowadays he’d get arrested, not marry her.”
Mandy laughed and swatted Jason’s arm. “You are so not a romantic. He was what, two years older than her? He had to have been only eighteen.”
Jason had the smarts to laugh at himself. “Go on, Add, tell us the rest.”
“Seems Gramps didn’t like him much. But Daddy’s father paid the best for the stock. Daddy was actually bribing him to let him see Mom.” Addie genuinely smiled. “I had no idea they snuck off and eloped the day after she graduated.”
“No, they didn’t,” Mandy protested. “What about all those wedding pictures?” The book was still upstairs, Wyatt knew. Addie was taking it with her. He’d helped her find it and wrap it up just this morning.
“They had the formal wedding the next summer, once Gramps cooled off.”
“Wow.” DJ got up to refill his cup. Shaking his head, he turned his back on them, looking out the kitchen window over the yard. “There’s so much we’ll never know about her.” His sadness filled the room.
“Maybe.” Addie turned in her chair and met Wyatt’s gaze. He nodded and moved closer to their youngest brother. The man was a soldier to the rest of the world, but here, he was the little boy they’d all patched up a million times.
“We all have our secrets, Deej. It’s not a bad thing,” Addie said.
DJ met Wyatt’s gaze. The soldier was back and Wyatt immediately missed the boy. “Yeah, I suppose.”
Addie stood, too, dumping her cold coffee down the drain. “Mom had a wonderful life, and she gave us all an amazing home.”
Addie took her gaze from him and looked over her shoulder at the others. Finally, Addie’s composure fled. Her shoulders drooped and Wyatt did as he always did; he tried to fix things by pulling her into a reassuring hug.
“I only hope I can be as good of a mom if I have kids someday,” she said.
Silence, punctuated by only a few soft sniffles, filled the room. Finally, Addie moved away and Wyatt felt cast adrift. He vaguely wondered who’d been comforting whom. As he settled back in his seat, Addie reached into her purse and took out several folded sheets of paper. She slowly handed them out.
