"Ms. Rutledge didn't mention a fiancé."
"That's because I haven't been smart enough to figure out how to get this incredible woman to take me on permanently." He hitched Magda higher on his hip and began swaying from side to side, like any parent calming a restless child. Quilted watermelons along Magda's jumper offered a tender contrast to Gray's military crispness. "But let me make it clear, whether she marries me or not, ever, Lori is still the best mother Magda could have. Lori knows more about building a family than anyone. Believe me, Your Honor, there's nothing this woman can't handle. And no one will ever love that little girl as much as she does."
"Well, Major Clark, or is it Dr. Clark?"
"Either will do."
"Major Clark, your testimony has been enlightening, if a bit unorthodox." The judge turned to Lori. "Ms. Rutledge, I'm not going to ask you to respond to his rather unique proposal. Your bid for custody is that of a single parent. It would be unfair to either of you, and especially this child, to exert undue pressure on your decision on how to respond."
"Yes, Your Honor." Lucky for her, since Lori wasn't sure she could push words through her closing throat.
The judge nodded to Lori's attorney. "Any questions for Major Clark?"
Barbara dropped her pencil on her legal pad. "I think he covered everything quite well on his own, Your Honor."
Judge Tradd quirked a brow at the couple's attorney. "Cross-examination?"
With a poorly disguised wince, the attorney replied, "No questions. As Ms. Rutledge is a single parent, we find his testimony irrelevant."
"So noted." The judge shoved aside a folder of papers. "I believe I have enough evidence before me to render a decision. I'm prepared to rule from the bench." The judge shuffled aside a sheaf of papers before closing a folder. "The basis of the law requires that I rule in the best interest of the child, not in the interest of those contesting custody or adoption. I hereby assign said minor to the foster care of Lori Rutledge with adoption proceedings pending." She rapped her gavel. "Court is adjourned."
Before Lori could clear her throat or her thoughts, the crowd engulfed her. Friends and family, they surrounded her with support, words of encouragement.
And love.
She wasn't going to lose Magda, and she had these wonderful people to thank. Gray and his—their—friends had given her more than any family ever had. She'd been so fixated on a silly little dream house she'd almost missed the real thing. A family wasn't about the house or the place. It was about the people.
One person in particular.
Lori surged forward. "Gray—"
"No. Lori, stop." He passed Magda back to her, their eyes locking over the girl's whispery curls. "Don't say anything now. Not while you're feeling grateful or riding some emotional wave. We'll talk later." Gray shot a pointed look over his shoulder at Bronco, who was leaning not too subtly toward them. "And without an audience."
Lori stared into Gray's eyes as she gathered Magda close, hoping he'd meant what he'd said earlier. She needed him, and that was a strange feeling for a woman who'd prided herself on managing anything life threw her way.
More than anything, she needed for his words to have been real.
* * *
Gray stood on the balcony outside Magda's room, stars winking encouragement overhead. A night breeze stirred the muggy humidity, yet offered little relief for the sweat beading his brow.
Slowly he unfastened his service coat. His gaze traveled the length of the balcony, past Magda's room, then to Lori's further down…
He jerked his eyes and his thoughts right back. Talk first. Hopefully making love after. But no way would he let them fall into their old trap of using sex to avoid difficult conversations.
Lori's voice drifted from Magda's room through the open French doors as she tucked her daughter into bed for the night.
Her daughter. Gray smiled.
Even if Judge Tradd had decided in favor of the fickle-minded couple, Gray had no doubts that Lori could have won Magda in the long run once she'd had a chance to gather more testimony. But now she didn't have to.
Magda's caseworker had told them later the judge had admitted to being swayed by Gray's grandstanding. His hurried calls and a quick change into his uniform had helped. And helping Lori felt damned good.
Except she didn't need him anymore, not really. Lori rarely needed anyone.
But did she still want him in her life?
He wanted her in his, with a fierceness that made the past year's frustration seem like a cake walk. He rehearsed his proposal for the fiftieth time, swiping away the perspiration on his brow. He shrugged out of his uniform coat, the silver wings glinting in the overhead light.