The Marriage Bargain

“Well, your definition of suitable and the judge’s might be a little different. Once custody becomes an issue, the parents’ wishes are considered, but aren’t always followed. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s the way it is.”

She stood and walked to the window that overlooked the street behind the bakery. “I can’t believe this.”

“You mentioned the children’s uncle? If you can get him to testify that the children would be better off with you, it might help.”

“What if he sees this as an opportunity and decides to file for custody, too? I really could lose them.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat, desperately trying to hang onto her composure. These past few weeks had been the hardest of her life. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

Garrett shook his head. “I don’t know, Jules. I want to tell you everything’s going to be okay, but this case just got a whole lot more complicated. Once custody proceedings start, it’s really hard to know what the judge will do. This one prefers biological family. He also prefers married couples over singles trying to adopt. I’ve been in his courtroom a lot and he’s very unpredictable.”

She shoved her fingers into her hair, resting her palms over her eyes, willing herself not to break down in front of her lawyer. “This is horrible. Those girls have already been through so much.”

Garrett put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to do everything in our power to make sure they stay with you. In the meantime, make friends with Glory’s brother.”

Jules nodded. “We’re visiting him tonight. Hopefully, he’ll see us as a family—that the girls are meant to be with me.”

“Good. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

She watched through a blur of tears as Garrett walked back out through the door. The girls were her responsibility now. Glory and her brother had both suffered at the hands of a mom too interested in her own comfort to put them first. Jules would never let that happen to Eleanor and Emma—no matter what she had to do.

* * *

Cam placed the few items he’d picked up at the grocery store into his giant Sub-Zero refrigerator. He put a cartridge in his single-cup coffee brewer and looked out the window as the steaming hot liquid hissed into his mug.

It seemed impossible that he’d bought a house—not just because he was back here in his hometown, but because he was making plans to stay. But when he looked out those big windows at the stretch of green and the glimmer of water, it felt right. It felt like possibility.

The sun dipped behind the trees, sending long shadows across the pasture. He glanced at his watch. He’d expected Jules to be here by now, but she must’ve gotten held up.

He picked up his coffee and walked through the French doors onto the wide porch beyond the kitchen, fatigue settling in his shoulders. He didn’t often second-guess decisions. His success and reputation depended on a certain amount of creative bravado. Making a decision to buy this huge house? That was out of the norm, but surprisingly, he didn’t feel regret. He felt...hope.

When he’d seen his niece standing in the doorway of Juliet’s house that first night, it all clicked. It seemed so simple. Yes, he was taking a big risk moving to Alabama, but so what? He’d built a writing career out of being a risk taker. And he’d turn the world inside out if he had to, for Emma and Eleanor.

He glanced at his watch again: 5:30 p.m. and no sign of Jules. Maybe she forgot? He didn’t want the girls to go to bed without him at least hearing how their day went. He grabbed his keys off the counter.

A couple minutes later he was standing on her front porch, his hand raised to knock, when he saw water pouring out from under the closed door. Uh-oh.

He reached for the knob, pushed open the door and stepped into chaos. Water dripped from the ceiling, seeming to come from everywhere. Emma was screaming from the portable crib, her little face red and tear streaked.

Eleanor jumped up and down, making water splash, soaking her clothes and her hot-pink Mary Janes. “Hey, guess what? It’s raining in the house!”

“I see that.” He picked the damp baby up from the crib, putting her on his shoulder. Her little body curved into his, trembling and needy. He held her close, this tiny innocent sweetheart, patting her back as Jules came through the hall door with an armload of towels, her cell phone tucked next to her ear. Her hair hung in wet ropes around her shoulders, jeans rolled up to midcalf.

She came to a hard stop when she saw him. Cam froze, glancing up at the ceiling as a fat drop of cold water landed on his forehead. “So...what happened?”

She tossed towels on the hardwood floor in a haphazard pattern, words spilling out in a rush. “The water heater’s in the attic and I guess it exploded. Water just started pouring out of the ceiling. The ceiling in the entire house is soaked and dripping.”

He couldn’t tell if she was crying or if it was just the water tracking down her cheeks. “Oh, boy. Okay, so why don’t I get the girls out of here? I’ll take them next door and get them dry and fed. When you get things settled, come over.”

Cam could literally see the thoughts churning in her mind as she tried to figure a way out of letting him leave with the girls. He should probably be offended, but he did appreciate that she was so protective of his nieces—even when the one she was protecting them from was him. “I’ll take good care of them, Jules, I promise.”

“I know.” She looked around her ruined home with a sigh, but her fingers were still clenched into a fist. “The water mitigation team should be here within the hour.”

Cam wasn’t sure anything could be done to save the wood flooring, and the ceiling was definitely a total loss. He wasn’t an expert—by far—but it looked to him like it was going to take a while, maybe months, to fix this kind of damage. “Got it. Okay. Come over after you’re done with the workers and we can talk some more.”

“I will.”

He turned to where Eleanor was tap-dancing in a puddle on the rug. “Come on, splash princess, we’re going to my house.”

Eleanor started toward him but looked back at Jules, green eyes darkening with fear.

Juliet dropped to her knees on the watery floor in front of the three-year-old, who’d known so much loss and change in the past few weeks. She gripped one little water-pruned hand. “It’s okay, Eleanor. You go with Uncle Cam and I’ll see you in just a little while.”

Eleanor hugged Jules, arms cinching around her neck in a death grip before she let go.

Jules picked her up and followed Cam into the kitchen. She unhooked the diaper bag and Eleanor’s backpack from their place by the back door. “You’re going to need these. There’s a change of clothes for each of them and Emma’s due for a bottle at six.”

As he grasped the bags, she held on a second too long. “Cam. Take care of them—I’m trusting you.”

“Should I send my résumé over for you to check out?”

He was joking, but Jules tilted her head and smiled. “No, that’s okay. My brother Joe is the police chief here and I already had him run a background check on you.”

Cam was still laughing as he opened the front door of his new home. He’d worried, a little, about whether Juliet was the right person to raise his nieces, when he’d met her the other night. He wasn’t worried about that now.

She had grit. And there was nothing more he admired than a little grit.

* * *

Juliet tiptoed out of the nursery in Cam’s new house. It was ridiculous how perfect it was. Layers of white and pale gray and texture everywhere, from a faux fur throw on the floor to the bedside table made from a tree trunk. It was precious and both girls were sound asleep. She pulled the door almost closed and sagged against the wall next to it.

What a night. If any sense of reaching for perfection had remained before this debacle, and she would’ve guaranteed that it didn’t, it was gone now.

The ceiling had literally come crashing down.

She shivered. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again after being soaked to the skin for so long, but when she walked into the great room, Cam had a roaring fire going in the fireplace and a plate of food on a tray waiting for her.

“I hope you’re okay with pad thai. It’s my go-to when I need a quick dinner.” He glanced up with a smile and her stomach did a crazy loop-de-loop.

“It’s hot and I’m hungry. Thank you.” She sat on the edge of the hearth with her back to the fire and took a bite. “Cameron, this is so good. I guess you learned to make it in Thailand.”

He laughed. “No, actually, Brooklyn. There’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that has the best Thai food this side of the ocean and a little Thai grandma who took a starving kid under her wing.”

After inhaling an entire plate of food, she put the tray down and leaned back into the warmth of the fire. “I’m starting to feel like a human again. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“This house is great.” She wanted to be kind and act normal, but in her mind, she was reeling. The first blow had been the custody suit. One thing she’d had going for her was a stable home and business. Business was decent, but faltering without her daily presence.

And now her home was in a shambles for who knew how long. She had to do something to keep the girls safe and with her, even if it meant doing something drastic. And drastic was definitely the word for the germ of an idea starting to form in her mind.