The Road to Rose Bend, Naima Simone [jenna bush book club .TXT] 📗

not telling you what to feel, Sydney. I’m not discounting anything you’ve said, because it’s true. But he wants you to think he has all the power here, when he doesn’t. Unless the judge can determine why it would be in the best interest of this child to separate you from your infant daughter, then you being this child’s mother carries a lot more weight than Daniel’s marital and financial status. If anything, because of his financial status, his child support would help solidify the disparity in your wages. I understand how you, as a woman, would feel vulnerable in today’s world. But there is law and precedence, and Daniel’s money can’t supersede either.”

Her lips twisted into a skeptical, sad smile. “I wish I could be as optimistic as you. Your job is to defend that law, but with my baby’s welfare and future in the balance—my life with her on the line—I can’t afford to be that confident. I—” She broke off, swaying slightly, her eyes widening a fraction and her walnut-brown skin paling.

“Sydney,” he damn near shouted, hauling her into his arms.

His heart raced, and fear pumped through him until he breathed it, became it. She’s okay, his mind whispered. She’s not Tonia. But the logical reassurances did nothing to ease the terror.

Bending his knees, he swept her up, rushing to the couch and sinking down to the cushions.

“Sydney,” he rasped, cradling her against his chest, rocking her back and forth. The primitive part of his brain had taken over, and it screamed protect. “Are you okay? Baby girl, tell me you’re okay,” he whispered.

“I’m fine, Cole,” she said, her voice shaky, but gaining strength. She patted his shoulder, even giving him a quivering smile. “Honestly, I’m good. I just felt a little light-headed for a moment. Probably a combination of all the emotion and I didn’t eat yet. It happens, Cole,” she assured him. She cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I promise you, I’m okay.”

Bending his head, he pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her rich, unique scent. Indulging in her touch. He silently ordered his heart to slow, his pulse to ease. His mind to stop feeding him images of worst-case scenarios.

“You can’t forget to eat,” he said. “Let me fix you something.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” Carefully, he shifted her off his lap to the couch. “And I was about to fix me something anyway.”

A lie. He’d been on his way downtown to the rally. The first ride kicked off at eight, but the vendors’ booths opened at nine. He wanted to be there just in case they needed assistance or had questions. But the rally could wait; everybody could wait.

He strode to the kitchen, his brain whirling, fed by the anxiety that hadn’t fully abated. As he removed the carton of eggs and the package of turkey bacon from the refrigerator, her words spun in his mind like a cyclone.

How sad was it that he couldn’t deny her assertions? He loved the law, had made it his life’s work. But he would be a blind, idealistic fool to believe it couldn’t be twisted, to believe it was infallible. Sadly, he’d witnessed that kind of manipulation himself. But what he’d told her remained true. Precedent stood in her favor. If the case was being filed here in their county, where he was familiar with the available judges likely to hear the case, he would be even more confident. But that wasn’t the case. This would be filed by her ex-husband in North Carolina where, according to Sydney, he had connections because of his job and reputation. His attorney had similar relationships within that particular court system.

The scent of frying bacon filled the air, and on autopilot he flipped the meat, continuing to mull over the situation.

He could not—would not—see another woman lose her child. Would not stand by while another life was destroyed. No, losing primary custody of her daughter wouldn’t lead to Sydney’s death, but it would devastate her. Her baby meant everything to her—she’d sacrificed so much for her daughter already and was prepared to give more. All for the love of her child. If Sydney lost her... He would do anything to prevent that. Anything. Even if it meant fighting fire with...fire.

He stilled, the spatula in his hand hovering over the scrambled eggs. His breath stalled then stuttered in his lungs. He blinked, staring sightlessly at the wall in front of him, both shocked and terrified at the direction of his thoughts. Shocked, terrified and...resolved.

Oh hell. He was going to do this.

There wasn’t another choice. Not for him, at least. He would do this for Sydney.

He had to.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there that your eggs are in danger of tasting like a rubber tire?”

His shoulders tensed even more at the teasing behind him, but he deliberately inhaled a breath past his taut chest and forced his body to relax. To convince Sydney to agree with his admittedly wild plan, he had to appear as if it weren’t a big deal. As if he wasn’t going back on a vow he’d sworn to himself.

To his wife.

Grabbing a plate, he quickly scooped the food onto the dish. He turned, fixing a smile on his face and nabbing a fork from the drawer before sliding the breakfast in front of her.

“Eat,” he gently instructed, then he sat down on a stool on the other side of the bar. He waited until she’d eaten half of the meal then spoke again. “I have a suggestion, a proposition.”

She set her fork down on the plate, eyes narrowing on him. “Let me stop you. Retaining you was why I came here. I need the best, someone I know will fight for me,” she said, unknowingly echoing his thoughts from moments ago. “But I don’t know how long this will drag on, so don’t even think about suggesting a discount in your fees. I won’t hear it. Contrary to Daniel’s