The Northrops were, in fact, experiencing some financial difficulty as I understand it. But, as I said when we sat down here this morning, the welfare of the children is the only concern of this court.”
Ten minutes later it was over. Just like that. Garrett got to keep the children.
For a while, at least.
Caldwell stormed out of the courtroom, his attorney trotting unhappily after him. When the doors swished open, she heard the rapid-fire questions begin. In a smooth motion, the door whooshed closed, blotting out the voices.
She stood and waited while Garrett spoke with his attorney. Then the other man turned to Darby and shook her hand. “You did very well on the stand.”
She shifted nervously, feeling like a complete fraud, even though she had been strictly truthful about her account of the accident.
He smiled. “Not everyone does,” he assured her. Then his eyes narrowed for a moment. “I keep thinking we’ve met.”
Darby’s face felt stiff. She raised her eyebrows, lifting her shoulder casually. “Don’t think so.” It was all she could do to push out the words.
“Well. Anyway. Thanks. Garrett, I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ve got that meeting with Zoning tomorrow.”
“Make sure Carmel’s got it on my schedule.”
Hayden nodded, then he left. Leaving Darby alone with Garrett.
She looked anywhere but at him. “Mr. Carson is pretty upset.”
“So it seems.” He paused for a moment. “I wasn’t sure you’d hang around after the judge kicked everyone out of the place,” he finally said. “I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Courtrooms,” she excused weakly. “Not my favorite place.”
“Nor mine. Spent too much time in ’em when I was the reigning delinquent of Fisher Falls.”
“You?” Her gaze drifted over him. In a charcoal-colored suit fitted across his wide shoulders, his lean face once again clean shaven, his springy black hair brushed back from his face, he looked the very picture of uprightness and responsibility.
“I had a liking for hotwiring cars,” he admitted.
Her jaw loosened. “You stole cars?”
“I…liberated them from a certain owner with frequent regularity.”
“Mr. Carson’s cars?”
His grin was slow and utterly wicked. “Pretty and smart,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get outta here.”
She kept her smile in place with an effort. Please, let the reporters be gone. “Carmel is probably tearing her hair out by now.”
“She’d be saying that no matter how well things went. Figures it’ll keep me feeling guilty. But I’m not ready to go home. I thought we’d go somewhere for lunch. You know. Somewhere that doesn’t involve finger foods and sipper cups. You game?”
She moistened her lips. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“We need to talk about the kids.”
“We don’t have to go to a restaurant to do that.”
“Humor me.”
It was a mistake. She knew it. But looking at him, all she could think about at that moment was the way he’d tipped back his head into the mud the other day and laughed. “Garrett—”
He nudged back the brim of her hat. “The Overlook,” he murmured. “They have a dessert menu there that’ll make you cry. And if not that, at least lick your lips.”
She felt her ears heat, realizing she had pretty well done just that as she’d watched his mouth form his words. “I don’t know. I hear it’s a pricey place.”
“I think I can swing it,” he said dryly.
She pressed her lips together, looking away. “I…all right. But we really shouldn’t be out long. It wouldn’t be fair to Carmel.”
He nodded once, satisfied, and pushed open the door for her to pass through. She was so distracted by the hand he tucked against the small of her back that she barely remembered to adjust her hat as she walked out into the corridor.
But she needn’t have worried, because the wide hallway was empty. The spectators, reporters included, had gone and for a moment she felt weak with relief.
Garrett jabbed the elevator button and looked at her. “You all right? You look a little shaky.”
She managed a smile. “I must be hungrier than I thought. Didn’t smell my coffee this morning.”
He didn’t look convinced, but the elevator doors slid open and Darby stepped into the nearly full car before he could comment. Lunch hour was obviously calling to the government workers who populated the top floors of the pillared building.
The occupants shifted, making room for Garrett’s tall body, and Darby found herself wedged into the corner. She swallowed and looked up at the lit display above the door.
They had only three floors to descend, but it might as well have been twelve for the way the elevator seemed to grind along. She could feel her chest tightening, her lungs struggling for breath. Knowing what was happening didn’t help her to prevent it. A screaming knot rose in her throat, welling, swelling upward—
The doors slid open, passengers erupting around her into the lobby.
“Come on.” Garrett’s arm closed around her shoulders. “Outside.”
Suddenly she was outside. Fresh air filled her lungs. She felt sunlight on her arms, heard laughter from a passing group of office workers heading down the steps to the street.
She was pressed against Garrett’s side, her nose buried in his shoulder. “Oh, God.” She pushed away, as far as his arms allowed. Embarrassment burned inside her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Let’s just get to the truck.” He guided her down the shallow steps. “Or maybe you’d rather walk. The Overlook isn’t that far from here.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind walking?”
In answer, he shrugged off his suit jacket and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ve been known to put one foot in front of the other now and then.” He smiled faintly and took her arm, walking leisurely along the tree-lined sidewalk. “But don’t tell Carmel, or she’ll start refusing to fetch and carry for me.”
“I can’t imagine there is anything that Carmel would refuse you.”
“You haven’t seen our Monday-morning battles over who’s supposed to make the coffee.”
Darby managed a smile. He was deliberately trying to put her at ease. It was so utterly backward, and he didn’t even know it.
They walked on in silence. In and out of the shadows of the lacy leaves overhead. They crossed streets, left behind the business of the courthouse district, walking along a winding street that led gently upward. Past the park at the base of the waterfalls, past long, private drives that led to gracious older estates.
Estates like her aunt’s.
Like Caldwell Carson’s.
The road narrowed and Garrett moved to Darby’s left side, between her and the sporadic traffic. On the other side of her, a waist-high stone wall guarded the edge of the increasingly deep drop-off. Below, Fisher Falls lay like a sparkling jewel. Several yards ahead, she could see the discreet sign of The Overlook.
She ran her hand along the aging stone. “It is so beautiful here.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“Not bad,” she demurred. “Just hard to leave.”
“You’re