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“Daddy bought us the same suit,” Connor said. “But mine is small.”
“It sure is.” Ginger grinned at the little boy, whose blond hair had been buzzed into a respectable cut only a few days ago. He’d sat in the kitchen in the West Wing while Jess used the clippers and then the scissors to get his hair just right. She’d then cut Nate’s hair too, and they both looked clean-cut and respectable.
Ginger drove them to the county courthouse, where they went through the metal detectors and then into the elevator to go to the fourth floor, where the courtrooms were for family court. There was nowhere to sit on the fourth floor, and Nate paced toward the window and back several times before Ginger took his hand in hers and forced him to stand still.
Some people already milled about, and more kept coming and coming. Ginger realized in that moment that this was not going to be a private hearing, and she wondered if the judge would know Nate wasn’t quite out of prison yet. Her stomach jiggled and dropped, but she said nothing. He was already keyed up, and she didn’t need to add to it.
“Where is he?” Nate asked, craning to look at the elevator bank. His lawyer was supposed to be there that morning, but they hadn’t seen him yet.
“He’ll be here,” Ginger said. Lawrence might wear snakeskin sometimes, but he did a good job. He’d always done right by Nate, and surely he’d arrive any minute now.
Finally, the door opened to courtroom seven, their assigned courtroom, and a bailiff came out into the hall. “We’ve got our ten-thirty group entering,” he said, stepping back. “Any requests to go first?”
“We’d like to go first,” a man said, and Nate made a startled noise. “It’s the Mulbury adoption.”
“That’s Lawrence,” Nate said, but Ginger had spotted him on her own. “I didn’t even see him.” He released Ginger’s hand, and said, “Come on, bud,” to Connor, scooping him into his arms a moment later. He hurried toward the door and Lawrence, and by the time Ginger made it through the press of people to one of the rows inside the courtroom, Nate, Connor, and Lawrence sat at the front table.
“Guess we’re going first,” she muttered, taking a seat on the end of the row as the bailiff kept telling everyone to move down. Keep moving down.
People filled the room, and Ginger was suddenly glad Lawrence had stepped up and demanded to go first. At the same time, Ginger wished she had a moment to catch her breath, and she’d like to have seen how this procedure worked before it was Nate and Connor on the hot seat.
She reminded herself that she didn’t need to know the procedure here. That was why Nate paid Lawrence.
Once everyone was settled, a silence descended on the room. At least until the door in the back opened, and out came two women. Everyone scrambled to their feet to show respect. One woman took her place in a booth on floor-level, and the other sat behind the bench.
“Ready, Randy?” she asked, a smile on her face.
The bailiff grinned back at her. “Everyone’s here, ma’am.”
“And we have our first case already seated,” she said, gesturing to Lawrence, Nate, and Connor. “So I guess we’re ready.”
“The Mulbury’s,” Randy said, before turning to the courtroom. “This is courtroom seven, with the honorable Judge Denise Jerry. You’re up, sir.”
Lawrence stood up and asked the judge how she was. “Fine,” she drawled, still shuffling papers on her bench.
“All of our paperwork is in order,” Lawrence said. “There was no contest from Jane Copeland, Connor Mulbury’s birth mother. No contest from any of her family members, or any of Nathaniel’s. Both Connor and Nate want to form this family unit and start new when the time comes.”
The judge looked up, first at Lawrence and then to Nate and Connor. “Sir, please stand up.”
Nate did, quickly buttoning his suit coat. He nudged Connor, who also stood up. Nate smoothed his hair and they both faced the judge again. “Your Honor.”
“This is your late brother’s son?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“His will named you the legal guardian, with specific instructions to adopt Connor as soon as you could.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
She looked down at her papers again, a tiny crease appearing between her eyebrows. Ginger pulled in a breath and held it.
“You’re still in state custody,” the judge finally said.
“Yes, ma’am. Until February seventeenth.”
“You’re at Hope Eternal Ranch?”
Ginger glanced away from the bench when Nate didn’t answer. He was bent over whispering something to Connor. He straightened, and Connor said, “Yes, Your Honor. We live at Hope Eternal Ranch.”
