Cash shook his head. “Rubi, I believe you know Trent. Trent, Rubi.”
“I know who she is,” he ground out. “What’s she doin’ in my bed?”
“It’s not a bed. It’s a couch,” snapped Rubi. “If you had any class at all you’d know the difference.”
“Fine! Mycouch,” he shot back, pounding his chest.
Rubi opened her mouth, but Cash jumped in. “Actually, it’s my couch.”
They both snapped their lips shut. Cash folded his arms. “Trent, are you still in love with Carolyn?”
“No! What? Why?”
“Because that’s the only decent reason for not signing the divorce papers.” Cash let out a sigh. “It’s time, man. Let her go.”
Rubi scrambled to her feet, clutching the blanket around her thin shoulders. Her hair was knotted in the back, sticking up and out like a nest. For a brief moment, he wondered if she’d been listening through the walls, aggravated that he was near and yet not near enough. She dug into her purse on the side of the couch and pulled out an envelope. She slid the legal documents out and found a pen. “Here. The lawyer marked them with idiot-proof tabs. Sign by the red.”
Trent stormed towards the door. “I ain’t signin’.”
Cash dogged around him, blocking the way. Rubi threw aside the blanket and jumped to her feet. “Trent!”
“What? You think I’m lettin’ her pound me for hospital bills? I wasn’t the one who lost a baby. That’s on her.”
Rubi’s face turned white and then filled up like a canning jar of tomato juice. “She miscarried, you idiot! And it darn near killed her. It darn near killed us all.”
Cash nearly broke at the pain cutting through Rubi’s soul.
“’Cept you,” she continued. “You ran off and found the first barstool that would have you and never looked back. Well, she’s over you now, so get it into that thick head of yours—you’re out of the family.” Having said her piece, Rubi snatched up her purse and crammed the papers into it. She slung the bag over her shoulder. “I’ve tried to do this the nice way—but if you won’t sign, we’ll file without you.”
“You can’t do that.” Trent’s voice was low and threatening.
“And why not?”
“Because I’ll countersue and take you for all you’re worth.”
“Pah-lease, you have no claim on me.”
“Don’t I? Then why are you followin’ me around like a ghost? Why can’t you just leave me be?”
Cash’s blood ran cold. Rubi had a heart the size of Texas. She’d do anything for her family—even give up her fortune, if that’s what it took. He wondered how much of what Trent said was hot air blustering up a storm of trouble.
“I found me an attorney that will work for a percentage of what I get, and he’s mighty greedy.” Trent stepped back, slouching. “He says Carolyn should have taken better care of herself and the baby. Says she’s caused me emotional pain that I should be compensated for.”
Cash’s fingers coiled. After watching Carolyn tonight as she held his niece close to her chest and swiped silent tears—all the while cooing and laughing at the baby—he knew Trent was a bushel of lies and a peck of trouble.
Rubi adjusted her purse. “There aren’t enough bad words to call you,Trent Hill.”
“Why don’t you try? I can add that to my list of emotional damages.”
“Sign the papers,” growled Cash.
“You can’t make me.” Trent eyed him up; all the while, Cash felt himself gettin’ bigger as the anger built. Soon enough, fear shimmered across Trent’s features. “You gonna fire me or hit me?”
Cash advanced, the rational side still in control—for the moment. “Neither. But you’re gonna sign those papers.”
“Why would I?”
“Jennifer Scheckel.” Cash pulled out the one card he thought he’d never have to play.
