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“Am I allowed to hold him?” There was a trace of challenge in Trey’s question.

“You’re his father. Of course you may,” Anna Grunwald replied, then fixed a firm look on him. “But if you attempt to remove him from the premises, I will see that you are stopped.”

“Don’t worry,” Trey assured

her dryly. “I would never try.”

Sloan felt anything but easy when Trey gathered up their blanket-wrapped son from the crib. She saw that fiercely tender and fiercely possessive look on his face and knew he would fight to gain custody of Jake. In his warped reasoning, he would see it as wresting control of the baby from Max. And this attitude of his made it virtually impossible to arrive at any fair resolution.

Some twenty minutes later, Anna Grunwald brought her official visit to an end, thanking Sloan for her time and patience. Sloan wasn’t sure how much of the latter she had left. She only knew that her nerves were worn thin by the time she escorted the trio to the door. Even then she didn’t feel safe until she had closed the door on Trey. She leaned against it, shaking a little on the inside.

Yancy Haynes studied her with shrewd eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here in time to be with you when they arrived. But you seemed to have handled yourself very well.”

“Thank—” The doorbell rang, it’s chime jangling nerves that were raw. Sloan turned with a start and backed away from the door, a panic rising with the thought that it was Trey on the other side. She wasn’t sure she could face him again.

The attorney stepped forward and opened the door. Standing outside was a uniformed sheriff’s deputy with youthful face that looked totally nonthreatening.

“I need to see Mrs. Calder, sir.” The request was made with grim regret.

Curious, Sloan walked back to the door and stood next to her lawyer. “What is it?”

“You’re Mrs. Sloan Calder?” he asked.

“That’s right,” she confirmed.

“It’s my duty to serve you with this.” He handed her a sealed envelope and walked off.

For a stunned second, Sloan stared at the envelope in her hand. Before she could react, Yancy Haynes relieved her of it.

“Better let me have a look at this.” He turned and headed toward the living room, ripping open the envelope and removing the document within.

Sloan hurried after him. “What is it?”

“Your husband works fast,” he murmured, partly to himself. “I had intended to tell you this afternoon that you should anticipate being served with this in the next few days.”

“Served with what?” Sloan demanded, running out of patience with his roundabout way of avoiding an answer. She didn’t need to be coddled, and she resented that he thought she did.

“A custody hearing has been set for next week in Montana,” he told her. “You are ordered to appear before the judge with your son.”

“Why Montana? Why can’t that be done here in Texas?” she said in protest.

“Since you haven’t been a Texas resident for the last six months, federal law gives jurisdiction to Montana,” he explained, then smiled. “Naturally I’ll file for a postponement.”

“Naturally,” Sloan echoed in a murmur.

“Have a seat, Mrs. Calder, and we’ll get down to this unfortunate divorce business.” He gestured to one of the living room chairs and remained standing until she took a seat. He sat down on the sofa, placed his briefcase on the coffee table, and opened it. “Mr. Hensley was kind enough to provide me with a copy of your prenuptial agreement.” He removed a folder and flipped it open. “I almost forgot. He asked me to give you this as well.” He passed her a sheaf of papers, paper-clipped together. “It’s a document that names your son as your new beneficiary. As I understand, he’s already discussed this with you.”

“Yes, he has,” Sloan confirmed.

“If you want, you can go ahead and sign it. I’ll see that Hensley gets it. I tend to agree with him. It is something that should be done as soon as possible.” He supplied her with a ballpoint pen.

After a quick skim of its provisions, Sloan signed it and passed it back.

When Max returned to the ranch that evening, he was no more concerned about the new turn of events than Yancy Haynes had been. “A custody hearing is just what we want,” he assured Sloan, then smiled wryly. “Next week doesn’t allow us much time to prepare, I admit, but Haynes will get it postponed.”

“I was so sure Trey and I could agree to come to some kind of joint arrangement. But today—” Sloan felt a chill when she remembered the accusations Trey had made.

“Did something happen today?” His head lifted with quickening interest.

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