Finding Boaz

  "So tell me: how is Chloe? I know how relieved you are that the Social Services thing is over."

  "I am. I haven't yet figured out who turned me in."

  He's the one, echoed in her thoughts.

  "So what surprised you about Andrew's songs?" Abby hoped to change the subject before she spilled her guts about the letter that lay in her pocket.

  "It was the choice of songs. The Scots always have music at a gathering. It just isn't a party without it. And there are certain songs that go with certain gatherings. The first one he sang was a wedding song. I thought it was funny that he chose it."

  "I was going to ask him to teach it to me. Is it true?"

  "Is what true?" He wasn't going to make this easy. He hadn't brought her out to get a proposal. He was interested in Chloe. And Bradley Ericksen was up to no good. He was sure of it. He would probably try to take the child. And he wasn't going to let him.

  "About the laird of MacLeod. Does the girl have to ask him to marry?"

  "Yes." Duncan felt his face getting red as Abby giggled.

  "So that means you—right? You have to wait until some woman asks you."

  "Yes, but not just any woman..."

  "I think you're in for a long wait. Our society is liberal, but it's not that free."

  "True, but it's happened before," Duncan reminded her.

  "Your parents, you mean."

  "And theirs," he said.

  "What happens if no one asks you?"

  "I lose all my fortune, and I will be buried in unconsecrated ground."

  "That sounds serious," she said, her eyes bright with mirth.

  "Oh, it is. It has to do with vowing a vow before the Lord."

  Duncan told her the story of his beatnik mother on bended knee. And about his great-grandfather who lost it all by breaking the rules.

  He felt close to her then, telling her of himself. He wanted to hear more about her. He knew he needed to warn her about Bradley and Suzie. But that could come later, after they had taken a break and had a good time. She told him stories of her life: where Chloe was born and a little more than he needed to know about her birth. But that didn't stop him from wishing that he had been there, that Chloe was his—his child with her eyes.

  They both refused dessert but ordered coffee.

  "I need to tell you something," Duncan began.

  The slight change in his tone caught Abby's attention.

  "What is it?" she answered looking directly into his eyes.

  "I had dinner with Ruth Abercrombie..."

  "Yes, I know."

  She's jealous. The thought slapped him like a wet towel.

  "It's not what you think."

  "I don't think anything. You can go out with whoever you want."

  Her jealousy pleased him.

  "I asked her out to find out about her and to see if she was a threat to you. My brother said that the people you know could be a threat to the investigation with Social Services. So I went to her to find out what was wrong with her so that she couldn't hurt you."

  Abby's eyes widened. Had Ruth told him about her addiction and what it had driven her to do?

  "Did she tell you?"

  "Yes. I thought she was into gambling or something like that. You know you just can't take any chances."

  "Well, I haven't seen her in a while."

  "I asked her to stay away."

  "What?"

  "Don't be angry. We have to do whatever is necessary to protect Chloe. I think Bradley is going to try and take her from you. He may kidnap her. Have you thought of that?"

  "Not seriously."

  "It happens, Abby."

  "I know. But that's not what he's going to do." She reached under the table, pulled out a thick white envelope, and put in on the table in front of him.

  The waiter refilled their cups while Duncan read the documents.

  "It's a subpoena."

  "I know. He wants to take Chloe."

  "When did you get this?"

  "Today." She told him about going home to get the missing box of envelopes.

  "Will you let me help?"

  "Why?" Duncan reached across the table and took her hand.

  "Because I love you and I love Chloe, and she deserves to stay where she is happy and grow up with the wonderful mother God gave her."

  Abby hesitated, expecting her thoughts to scramble. He said he loved her. Could it be true? Her pride screamed No, her heart desperately gasped Yes. She heard the cool voice of Pat Gordon. 'Don't let pride get in the way of anything He is trying to do for you.'

  "Yes." Her voice was a whisper. She shook her head firmly trying to silence any contrary thoughts.

  "You know what is really odd?" Abby finally said. "He didn't want her. He's been in town for a month and has only seen her a couple of times. You'd think if he wanted her that badly he would have come to see her."

  "I meant what I said, Abby. I love you."

  "I heard you. I just can't think about it right now."

  "I think we can settle this thing out of court."

  "Why?"

  "Because everything he's done is stacked against him. He left, didn't visit, or show any desire to see Chloe until now. And as you said, he hasn't even done that much since coming to town. I don't think he can win."

  Abby felt enormous relief. She struggled to keep her eyes open on the way home. They passed by fields, and Abby imagined the lightning bugs flitting in and out of an enchanted forest.

  "Sleepy?"

  "No. It's been a long day. I think I'm relieved. I've been in knots over this thing for weeks. It's my worst nightmare come to life."

  "It'll be OK."

  "I hope so."

  "It will be. He's never let me down yet."

  They sat in the truck in Abby's driveway. Duncan held her hand. Abby's heart was glowing. Duncan separated their hands and put his arm around her. She just fit in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled wonderful. In an instant, the electric current between them crackled and zapped away the drowsy atmosphere in the small space.

  She looked up at him and back down at her hands.

  "What did you mean...you love me?" He tipped her chin toward him and brushed her lips with a brief kiss. When she didn't move, he deepened the kiss, his lips soft, full of tenderness over hers.

  "Does that answer your question?"

  Abby sat up straight.

  "I had better go in."

  Duncan pulled away and put his hands on the steering wheel.

  "Good night," she said.

  "The tartan suits you, Abby."

  Chapter 38

  Abby had not been able to shake the desperate need to see Chloe, so she changed into her blue jeans and a sweat shirt, packed some clothes for the morning, and drove to her mother's house.

  It wasn't late, and Abby found her mother as she knew she would, sitting in front of an old movie on television working on her latest needlework.

  "What are you doing here? I didn't expect to see you until noon tomorrow."

  Abby didn't answer the little jab at her sleeping habits.

  "I came to see Chloe." She brushed past Helen and headed down the hall to her baby. Chloe lay there, one leg crooked out on top of the blankets. Abby tucked her leg back in and kissed her child on the forehead. Her heart ached, and her back hardened. She knew that she could do whatever it took to keep Chloe with her.

  Her mother had resumed her sewing by the time Abby emerged from the bedroom, but she had turned off the television.

  "You want some coffee?" Helen asked without looking up.

  "No, thanks. I just came from dinner."

  "Why did you come here?"

  "I got a subpoena today."

  Helen put down her needle.

  "For what?"

  "Brad is suing for custody."

  "Let me see it." Helen stuck out her hand for the documents. For the first time, Abby wondered if she had done the right thing in giving the document to Duncan. It was so hard to think
clearly, with no mistakes. And she couldn't afford any.

  "I gave it to Duncan. His brother is an attorney. I'm going to let him help me with this."

  "Don't worry about the money. I'll help you."

  "I hadn't gotten that far yet," Abby replied. She lay back on the couch, hands over her face.

  "Well, what did the subpoena say?"

  "Nothing much. Just to be in court on Thursday in two weeks."

  "That's fast."

  "I thought so too. Duncan is going to talk to his brother, and he'll call me."

  Helen stood up.

  "Well, I'm gonna get some coffee."

  Abby followed her to the kitchen.

  "I thought you were trying to avoid Duncan MacLeod. I thought today was the big grand opening. How did you manage to see him long enough to give him the papers?"

  "It was—he took me to dinner afterward. Get this: Duncan is the head of his family, right? Today I heard an old family song, and it turns out that in order to be married, the head of their family has to be asked by the woman he weds."

  Helen's eyebrows shot up, and a look of mischief returned to her eyes.

  "I could do it," she said. Abby knew it was true; Helen could do it.

  "I don't know if I could." Abby wrapped her arms around herself.

  "Sure you could—if you wanted it bad enough."

  "What would you do if he said no?" Abby asked.

  "I'd be a little embarrassed, but I'd walk away with my head up. It's no different than a man asking a woman. I've often thought of that. I'm glad I'm a woman." Helen paused; the coffee was ready. She poured two cups and grabbed a box of cake doughnuts. When they sat down, she resumed. "Can you imagine the courage it takes when you're, say, thirteen, you see a beautiful girl, the prettiest one in the class or maybe not. Maybe you just think she's pretty, but you have to ask her to dance. You'd be scared to death."

  "I always think of the wallflower girl, like me. Waiting to be asked, sitting in a chair, hopeful."

  "Exactly. Think of all those boys. It must be murder." She took a doughnut and broke it in half.

  "Must be," Abby agreed. "Duncan told me he loves me."

  "That's nice. What about Ruth whatsername?" The words were as soaked in sarcasm as the coffee-sodden doughnut that had just left the coffee for her mouth.

  "It was about me, he said. Ruth is into some pretty rough stuff—stuff I can't talk about. He told her to stay away from me. He seems to think that I need to be careful of who I associate with in order to protect Chloe." She told Helen about Duncan overhearing her on the steps at church. "He seemed to know that Brad was going to come after Chloe."

  "Well, if you want him, you know what you'll have to do."

  "I know, but it will have to wait. Chloe comes first."

  Abby was feeling peaceful on all fronts but one. She had finished the grand opening; the plans for the Old Thyme Festival were coming along just fine; the Erin~D was ready for cruising and awaited only her guests. This one last battle was keeping the pace in her bloodstream up. Brad could not have Chloe and that was that. She didn't know how it would happen, but she would not let him have her. Even the peaceful remembrances of this house could not calm the agitation she felt every time she thought of it.

  The ring of the phone jolted them both out of their chairs. It was Duncan calling to tell her Douglas had agreed to meet with her tomorrow.

  "So fast?"

  "No time to waste. I don't want to lose Chloe."

  After coffee, after talking with her mom, it was those words that she took to bed with her. He didn't want to lose Chloe.

  Chapter 39

  “She's a wimp."

  "I don't know, Brad. She managed through that investigation."

  It was an unusual thing for Suzie to be nervous, and it plucked his nerves. In all the time they had been together, he had never seen her this way. One thing about Suzie: she always went after what she wanted with vigor. She wasn't afraid of anything. It's what attracted him to her in the first place. If it felt good—do it. That was her motto, and it worked for him.

  "Trust me. She'll clam up. She's no good on her feet. Anyway, this is just the preliminaries," he said.

  Brad and Suzie were waiting for Cynthia Steeple, their attorney, on the tall steps leading up to the law offices of Abercrombie and Abercrombie. The sun was shining, and it promised to be a warm day.

  "I don't know how she can afford this place," Suzie said.

  The sound of her insecurity annoyed him. Why couldn't she let up? Things were going just fine until she had that miscarriage six months ago.

  "She probably has help from her mother. Anyway, this should be the last of it. I think they set this meeting up because they didn't want to go to court."

  They had been round and round about why MacLeod had called this meeting.

  Abby was already inside. Brad knew this because her car was parked outside. He wished Cynthia would show up. He liked her, too. Another one, not afraid of anything.

  Cynthia pulled into the parking lot in a blue Jaguar, sleek with finely carved lines in contrast to its owner.

  She was a short, curly-haired, blonde woman with the legs of a body builder, thick and wide. Her skirt was above the knee, her high-heeled shoes clicked on the cement steps, and she carried a small brief case.

  "Hi, guys. Are you ready to take your daughter home?"

  They shook hands all round.

  "Yes." Suzie was emphatic. They walked together to the door. Brad held it open for both women.

  The entrance hall was outfitted with a plush red carpet and a bank of elevators. The doors opened to a small room with one desk of a shiny dark wood, and seated behind it was a large woman of indeterminate age.

  "May I help you?" she wheezed.

  "Cynthia Steeple to see Douglas MacLeod."

  "Have seat. I'll let him know that you're here."

  She pointed to the sitting area with a sweep of one chunky arm. They took their seats on red leather cushions.

  Chapter 40

  Abby sat in a leather chair in the spartan office of Douglas MacLeod. Douglas looked like his brothers, but darker. His hair was nearly black instead of sandy red, but his eyes were brown. While his brothers were stocky and strong, he was slender and delicate. Duncan's hands were wide, calloused, and scarred. Douglas's were small and soft and manicured.

  "They're here," Douglas said as he placed the phone back on its base.

  Abby's stomach constricted.

  Duncan reached over and took her hand. He nodded his head to say "Ready?" He sat in the chair next to her and looked as only a redhead could in a blue suit. She could stare at him all day.

  "I'll just be glad when it's over."

  "Let's go through to the conference room," Douglas said.

  Abby followed Douglas, and Duncan followed Abby down the hall to the conference room. There was a large oval table in the middle of the room surrounded by chairs. On one wall was a sideboard complete with silver coffee urn. To the side of it was a silver tray laden with all the accessories for coffee or tea.

  Duncan poured a cup a coffee and handed it to Abby.

  "No, thanks. I'm fine." The hand she put up trembled slightly.

  "It'll give you something to do with your hands," he said.

  She took it from him and held the cup with both hands. The tremor made circles in the dark liquid. He poured himself a cup and they took seats on the far side of the table in front of the windows. Abby wished she could be on the other side. The windows would give her something to look at besides the sideboard during the uncomfortable meeting.

  "I'll go get them." Douglas stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  Duncan reached over and took Abby's hand. His was remarkably warm and steady. He smiled.

  She squeezed his hand.

  "I'm gonna be fine. I just hate confrontation, that's all."

  "It's gonna be OK."

  Duncan removed his hand when the doorknob turned. In walked Dougla
s followed by a curly-haired blonde with sunglasses perched on her head who looked like she boxed on the side. Brad and Suzie followed holding hands. Abby placed her cup carefully on the table and stood up. Cynthia Steeple put her briefcase on the table across from Duncan.

  "I'm Cindy Steeple. You must be Abby." She reached across and handed Abby a few fingers to shake.

  "And you are?" She speared Duncan with her gaze.

  "A friend."

  "I don't think we need any outsiders at this proceeding." She spoke to Douglas.

  "He is a friend of Ms. Ericksen's, and he is here at her request."

  Cindy Steeple flipped her hair around and received a nod from Brad.

  "Very well, then as Mr. and Mrs. Ericksen seem to have no objection, we'll let it go."

  Cynthia unzipped her case and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "Shall we sit down and get to business?"

  Abby felt a cool calmness come over her. The fight was on.

  "Quite frankly, Ms. Steeple, we were quite taken aback when we received your subpoena," said Douglas.

  "Well, I don't know why you would be. Ms. Ericksen has refused repeatedly for the child's father to see the child."

  "On the contrary, my understanding is that Mr. Ericksen has been in town and has made only two requests to see the child, for which"—Douglas looked down at his notes— "one was granted and the other denied due to illness in the child. There have been no further requests. Is that right?" He turned to Abby, and she nodded in the affirmative.

  "Therefore, we propose to set up an agreement whereby both parents will have regular visitation."

  "We might agree to that if the father has custody."

  "On what grounds?"

  "On the grounds that the father can offer the child much more than her mother can. He can afford to send the child to private school, pay for piano lessons—all that financial stability can supply. Mrs. Ericksen is a housewife and therefore will be home. It is commonly agreed that two parents in a household are the ideal situation for all children."

  It was true. Brad did have more money than she had, but they would take Chloe over her dead body.

  Brad was sitting silent next to Cynthia only occasionally agreeing with what a wonderful father he would be if only she would give up her Chloe. Suzie sat next to him gazing up at him in jubilation as though watching her champion win. Then Suzie turned her eyes to Abby. The cool triumph in them was too much. Chloe would be better off with me, Abby thought. She heard a car pull into the parking lot behind her. She glanced at Cindy. She had perched a set of golden half glasses on her nose and was reading from her yellow legal pad."...has also been investigated by Social Services." Cynthia was finished.