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Jonas bounded up to restrain Sam. "This isn't the time," he whispered.
Sam turned and looked at Jonas's shocked expression. Although he lowered his voice, it was still loud enough for Emma - and everyone else - to hear. "There isn't a right time. I should've spoke up before, and if I don't do it now, it'll be too late."
"It's too late now," the judge interrupted. "Please sit down."
"But Your Honor--"
The judge let out a frustrated sigh. "I've made my decision. I doubt that anything you can tell me now will change my mind."
"You
have to listen--"
"Mr. McCallum, I'm a reasonably patient man," the judge warned. "But if you don't control your client, I won't hesitate to let him cool off in jail for a few days."
"Sam! You won't do anybody any good behind bars. Now sit down."
Sam's shoulders drooped and he slowly slumped down into the chair. He'd failed. He'd tried to do the right thing, and he'd failed.
His gaze slid in Emma's direction, but at the last moment, he refused to look at her. He couldn't stand to see the loathing she must surely feel for him. He'd have to deal with that later, but right now, he couldn't face it. Instead, he lowered his gaze, letting it settle on a callus on his thumb.
"I've reviewed the documents presented to me, and I've heard from witnesses for both parties involved." Focusing his gaze on the Howards, he addressed his comments to them. "I understand it was impossible to have character witnesses attend here on your behalf, so I've taken into account your letters of reference."
Turning to Sam and Emma, he continued. "On the other hand, I have heard from several witnesses about your character and personality, as well as testimony regarding the health and well-being of the children."
Sam's heart hammered like a woodpecker. His chest hurt, and it was impossible to take in a deep breath. Just get it over with, he begged silently. One way or the other.
The judge eyed them intently, then turned his attention back to the Howards. "There is an old proverb that says birds of a feather flock together. It may not hold true 100% of the time, but in my experience, this seems to be the case more often than not. The fact that you are friends of my cousin tells me more about the type of people you are than anything else."
Mrs. Howard beamed, then looked over at Sam and Emma. Her lips curved in a superior smile.
Sam couldn't do this alone. Even if Emma hated him for it, he needed her strength. Reaching out, he gripped her hand. He couldn't help being little surprised that she didn't try to pull away.
They were going to lose. He could sense it. Because Catherine's parents had powerful friends, the judge was going to take his children away from him and send them hundreds of miles away.
The judge leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bench. "My cousin is a pompous ass," he said. "If for no other reason, the fact that he is a good friend of yours makes me suspicious of your character."
Shocked gasps filled the courtroom, overpowering the sound of a child's laughter outside. Winston Howard's face turned a deep shade of red, and a vein bulged in his neck. Mrs. Howard's face paled, and she flapped her handkerchief wildly in front of her face.
"But even then," the judge continued as if there had been no reaction to his comment, "I am bound by the law. My personal feelings are of no consequence. My decision must be based on the evidence, and must be in the children's best interests."
He paused and took a handkerchief from his pocket. Wiping his forehead, he muttered to himself, "I doubt the fires of Hell could be much hotter than this."
The court clerk snickered at the judge's attempt at humor.
"Mr. Ambrose, you have presented no evidence to support your accusations that the defendant and his wife were attempting to extort money from your clients. In fact, I find your methods highly unethical. It seems the children are well cared for, and their father - and his new wife - are in no way unfit to raise these children. They may not be powerful, or wealthy, but from what I've heard, there is an abundance of love in their home - something worth far more than money. Therefore, it is the judgement of this court that Sam and Emma Jenkins retain custody of their three minor children."
"Your Honor--" The Howards' attorney burst in.
Judge Carstairs slammed the gavel down. "Case closed."
***
Sam and Emma were surrounded. As soon as the verdict was handed down, whoops of joy filled the room, and people swarmed towards the table where they sat with Jonas. Amanda raced to hug Emma and Sam as quickly as her bulk would allow. James stayed close to his wife, quietly offering his congratulations.
Fred grabbed Emma in a bear hug, then pumped Sam's hand, slapping him heartily on the back. "We showed 'em, didn't we? I knew those high-falutin' Easterners wouldn't get those young'uns. Now they can go back where they came from with their tails between their legs."
Sam's throat was tight, and he felt dangerously close to tears. Hell, he couldn't lose control here, in public. But he'd been scared. More scared than he'd ever been in his life. "Jonas," he said. His voice cracked as he gripped the lawyer's hand. "I don't know how to thank you--"
