Custody.
Custody, that’s something that’s argued about when two people can’t make their marriage work. That’s not what happened to me. I loved Amelia, and she loved me, and I adore Sadie. She’s my whole world, my sun, my sky, the blood in my veins, my reason to breathe.
My hand comes to my mouth as I scan the letter.
Mr. Vaughn,
I represent the Montgomery family, who has expressed great concern in your ability to care for your biological child, Sadie Ruth Vaughn. Public records indicate a lien on your properties at 1398 Shetland, including but not limited to: Vaughn Horse Ranch, the structure at this address, as well as the barn(s), stable(s), coop(s) and livestock. The primary residence is dilapidated and in desperate need of vital repairs, and therefore not a safe or ideal environment for a child.
Your financial woes, paired with the rigorous training schedule set forth for the upcoming rodeo, and without another parent or adult at home, we do not believe you can provide the familial stability that a young child needs.
The Montgomery family, on behalf of their late daughter Amelia Montgomery Vaughn, are seeking sole and primary custody of the dependent, Sadie Ruth Vaughn.
I stop reading.
My throat clogs with thick, spiky heat and my eyes sting like hell. I’m on my feet, hat on my head, out the door, tearing through the house until I’m outside, running toward Tatum’s with the papers bunched in my fist.
The Montgomerys never liked me. They didn’t think I was good enough for Amelia, and I don’t know. Maybe they were right. After all, I couldn’t get her into enough trials or find the right treatment to save her. I have to live with her loss every day, and look at my baby girl and feel that loss forever. That’s enough pain. I’ve been through enough.
I am not losing the one thing I have left.
Big Bertha squawks as I run by, and the leaves from the oak over the coop lick my cheek as I duck beneath them, not slowing down for even a second.
A memory flashes behind my eyes, our wedding day. Ihad a gift I’d wanted to give Amelia before we went down the aisle, so I went to her dressing room to slip it to her. Instead, when I approached, her parents were in there, offering her a four-million-dollar gift to not walk down that aisle.
“This cowboy lifestyle is ridiculous and juvenile,” Marnie said, blotting at the corners of her eyes as if her own son was about to leave for war.
“And that ranch, Amelia, you do not want to live in that old ranch house,” Charles added, reminding her again of their secondary property in Dallas, the mansion, which they’d allow her to live in, free of charge.
Dallas socialites who want nothing more than a Barbie doll daughter and Ken son-in-law, that’s what they were. They never cared that Amelia loved me deeply, that she wanted to be part of the Vaughn Ranch legacy. She wanted to watch me ride, she cheered me on and stood in the bleachers with tears of pride in her eyes every time I mounted a bronc.
They acted like I was holding her captive just because I wasn’t wealthy. I wasn’t dirt poor and in debt the way I am now, but I used to do okay for myself. The ranch did well. Well enough to build a new stable around the time Amelia got pregnant, and add some new fencing along the property. We were even able to purchase two new stags.
I’ll never forget the way Amelia pressed her palm to the side of my face and brushed her lips against mine, vowing to love me forever, vowing to take care of me and our baby until the end of time.
I made the same vow back, and I’ll be damned if I don’t honor it. I’ll be damned if her parents take my child.
I don’t bother knocking when I reach Tatum and Love’s back door, my chest burning, eyes stinging with unshed tears. Bursting inside, Love startles, jumping up from the kitchenisland where a mug of tea sits partially drank, next to a plate with half-eaten toast and some eggs. Across from her, Tatum stands holding his mug, his own Cattleman on his head, blond hair sticking out everywhere. In jeans and a white T-shirt just like me, he’s dressed for a day of stable repairs, which is what I had planned.
Only now…
“Landry,” Love breathes, eyes wide, her hand draped over her chest. “What’s going on?”
Tate lowers his coffee to the counter without taking his eyes off of me. “What happened?” Love motions to the papers in my hand, wrinkled from the intensity of my grip. “What are those?”
I shake my head as a single tear breaks free. I don’t acknowledge it as I pass Love the papers and lock eyes with my lifelong best friend. “They’re trying to take Sadie.”
“Who?” Tate asks, his voice lined with concern as he tugs his hat off, glancing at his wife.
“The Montgomerys,” she answers, her eyes working over the information much faster than I did. She turns a page, then another, and I confirm.
“Amelia’s parents,” I tell Tate. “They think they can take better care of Sadie. They know about the debt. The loans. They think Sadie would be better off with them, and they’re pursuing custody.”
Love abandons the papers to wrap her small arms around me, placing her cheek against my chest as she attempts to rope me into a hug. “It’s going to be okay, Landry. You’re a wonderful daddy, okay, and we’re gonna figure this out.”
Tate paces as Love shoves me onto a barstool and forces a mug of tea into my hands. The hot mug stings the open sores on my palms, but I sip the dirty water to appease her, wishin’ it were more coffee. Or better yet, booze.
“I think I have a plan,” Tate announces after ten minutes of stress pacing and throwing out terrible ideas, the first of which was a double-murder plot. Though I think he was joking. Maybe.
