Rodeo Daughter. Leigh Duncan
court than yours are. You had to know before coming in here that the state of Florida has never completely refused visitation rights for a parent. I’m disinclined to buck that trend.”
Karen had claimed Mitch possessed a violent streak. She’d even hinted that both she and Hailey had suffered from it. That was the only part of her story Amanda had refused to believe. Despite the fact that she’d seen Mitch react in anger—once—she couldn’t accept that the boy she’d loved had grown abusive. She told herself prosecuting attorneys didn’t rise to the top of the heap by losing control. Still, she’d checked around. No one had ever seen so much as a single hair rise on the back of Mitch’s neck.
Judging from the waves of anger now rolling off the man, those who claimed Mitch Goodwin was incapable of losing his temper had been wrong. Railing against the family court system, he launched into an angry tirade. His strenuous objections echoed through the room.
Dobson lifted his gavel and rapped it sharply on the bench. A single tap was enough to stem Mitch’s torrent of harsh words. The tall lawyer’s expression grew shuttered, his eyes blank.
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” he stated.
Dobson gave him a hard look. “You should be. If you ever raise your voice in my courtroom again…”
Mitch never lifted his eyes. “Yes, Your Honor. It won’t happen again, Your Honor.”
“Court is adjourned.” Dobson’s gavel struck again and, with a flurry of black robes, the judge hustled into his chambers. Practically before those watching had surged to their feet, the door slammed in his wake.
“Well.” Karen flounced back in her chair and pointed a finger at Mitch. “On TV, he’d go to jail for contempt.”
“Real court is different.” Amanda settled her hand over Karen’s forcing down her client’s outstretched arm. “We won more than we expected,” she soothed in her most lawyerly voice. “Why don’t you let me work out the details? That’s what you pay me for.”
Karen raked her manicured fingers through her hair. “Fine,” she agreed, although her angry glare said she was anything but pleased. “As long as you remember that he stole my daughter—and my life—from me. When we’re done, I don’t want him to ever see Hailey again. Have I made myself clear?”
This was a different side of the client who’d quietly slipped into her office two weeks earlier. Amanda reminded herself that emotions ran high in child custody cases. Karen wasn’t the first parent to want revenge. But proving Mitch unfit even to see his daughter? The man might be coldhearted—he’d definitely been in the wrong in preventing Karen from seeing Hailey. But the courtroom was no place to extract vengeance. Truth be told, his objections and the judge’s reaction to them were so vehement, Amanda almost felt sorry for Mitch.
She mustered a conciliatory expression, but by the time she swung around to face the man across the aisle, the door to the hallway was closing behind him.
Chapter Three
Halfway down the wide corridor, Mitch dropped his briefcase to the floor at his feet. He leaned back against the wall and concentrated on drawing strength from the hard concrete blocks. In five years as a prosecutor—no, longer than that. On the Law Review and at a thousand Sunday dinners where the senior partner of Goodwin & Sons dished out arguments along with the mashed potatoes, he’d never lost his cool the way he’d lost it in court this morning.
Mitch rubbed his temples, surprised his hands still shook with anger.
He was lucky Dobson hadn’t cited him for contempt and locked him up overnight. Worse, the way things stood, the Suwannee River would freeze over before the judge ruled in his favor on the simplest of motions.
And that wouldn’t protect Hailey.
The doors to the courtroom swung open. His ex-wife and her lawyer emerged. The sight of the two women chatting like old friends drove a spike right through the center of his gut. While Amanda guided her client into a waiting elevator, he studied the polished and astute woman who bore so little resemblance to the girl who’d worn T-shirts and shorts like a second skin. Even wearing an off-the-rack business suit, she outshone the sequined “Mandy” he’d waltzed around the Boots and Spurs barn.
She was good at her job, he’d give her that. She’d always had a competitive edge. After that summer, she’d used it to rise to the top in professional rodeo. But now she was putting it to work against him. And that only made him more determined to get back in charge of himself. He ran through possible scenarios for their upcoming conversation as she crossed the carpeted hall on three-inch heels that put an extra dash of sass in the swing of her hips.
“Hey, Mitch.”
She’d lost her familiar smile, replaced it with a frown. He warned himself not to mistake her expression for concern.
“Amanda,” he acknowledged.
“Looks like we have some things to sort out.”
She settled against the wall beside him. Her face lifted into the sunlight streaming through banks of windows, and gave a small sigh. Her lashes drifted down until they lightly brushed the translucent skin beneath her eyes.
Mitch straightened and edged away. “The other night, why didn’t you tell me you were an attorney?”
“We were at the bar association’s fundraiser.” Catlike, Amanda continued to soak up the sun. “It wasn’t obvious?”
“Not when you were racing across the arena astride a horse, it wasn’t,” Mitch grumbled. “I didn’t see any other lawyers there dressed in leather and spurs.”
Amanda faced him, the light turning her eyes more green than gray. “No, they’d all donned plaid shirts and denim. Definitely courtroom attire,” she said drily. “But since you ask, I was in charge of entertainment. I hadn’t planned to perform—I gave that up years ago. But my dad skipped out at the last minute. I…” She scowled. “The show had to go on,” she said, her jaw tight. “I filled in.”
Mitch thought back to the quiet nights when he and Mandy had stayed up after all the other campers had turned in. Those days, her attitude toward her dad had been one part hero worship, two parts neglected kid. If Mitch was hearing her right, Tom Markette’s image had lost its shine.
“Amazing performance,” he conceded. Seeing her precariously balanced on one foot atop a thousand pounds of thundering horseflesh had stirred feelings he hadn’t experienced in all the years since his marriage had crashed and burned. Later, when he’d held Mandy in his arms, swaying to country music, he’d wondered if the time was finally right to try again.
He swallowed hard and looked up to find Amanda staring at him. Keeping their conversation on track wasn’t as easy as he’d expected. He struggled to regain his composure.
“Have you talked to Karen about our past? Or the stampede?”
Amanda made a derisive sound. “She knows.”
“And she doesn’t care?” Not that he’d believe that for a minute.
“Why should she? It’s not as if we’re involved. We knew each other as kids. The other night, we shared a couple of dances.”
“We did a little more than dance.”
“We kissed. Which you obviously didn’t enjoy, because the next thing I knew, you’d left me standing in the middle of the floor with egg on my face.”
She brushed her fingers across the lips he’d been crazy enough to devour.
“I owe you an apology for that,” Mitch admitted. “The guy who spoke with us—”
“The pole bender. Royce.”
Mitch nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one. From what he said, I assumed you’d be heading out with them the next morning. It made me stop and think.” He