“And I have my tutoring money.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “They really can’t do this, can they?”
“I don’t know. As I said, we need to see a lawyer.” He tucked her against his chest, his voice rumbling against her ear.
“This makes me so angry!” Angel broke free and paced. “You said they’ve only seen the children a couple of times. For heaven’s sake, the boys didn’t even know them when they came for a visit. And here it is, almost a year later, and they want guardianship? I can’t imagine any judge allowing that.” Her eyes snapped as she spoke.
“Come on, get Julia-Rose and we’ll go downtown to that lawyer Eli uses. We should be back in time for the boys.”
Lucy awoke in her bed with a throbbing headache. She winced as she turned her head and gazed around the room. Her tongue skimmed the inside of her mouth, which felt as if someone had swabbed the cavity with a nasty piece of cotton.
She rolled the other direction, glancing at the clock. Three o’clock. Since slivers of daylight peeked through the drawn curtains, it must’ve been afternoon, not the middle of the night.
Her still-muddled brain considered what had happened earlier. The memory of arriving at Nate’s gunsmith shop was clear enough, but things were a little fuzzy after that. She’d made the trip to show him the report Mr. McNeil had given her.
Did I actually show it to him?
After that, everything was a complete blank, so Nate must have brought her home. A loud groan escaped as she pulled the pillow from under her head, and covered her face. The trouble she soon faced would not be forgiven so easily.
A soft knocked sounded at her bedroom door. She contemplated ignoring it, but eventually she would have to face her father, so she eased herself up. “Come in.”
Sylvia entered, smiling.
Oh, God, why did it have to be her?
“How are you feeling, dear?” The woman quietly approached the bed.
“Awful.”
“Your papa would like to see you downstairs when you’re feeling up to it.”
“I’m sure he does.” Lucy lay back down and moaned when her head hit the pillow.
“Do you want me to help you?” Sylvia walked to the window and pushed the drapes aside.
Light poured into the room, and Lucy placed her hand over her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, close those drapes.”
Sylvia sighed. “Your papa’s been waiting for a while to talk to you, so I think you better wash your face, brush your hair, and come on down.”
“I know how to take care of myself, thank you very much.” Lucy threw off the cover and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“All right, I’ll leave you, and see you downstairs.”
Once the door clicked closed, Lucy took the few steps to where she kept her hidden brandy bottle. Her eyes grew wide to find it empty. It couldn’t be possible she’d drunk so much. Only yesterday she’d pinched it from her father’s liquor supply.
She rinsed her mouth out with lavender water, washed her face, and brushed her hair. Twisting it into a chignon, she slipped her shoes on and left the room.
Once she arrived downstairs, she could hear Sylvia and Papa talking in the library, so she headed there.
The couple sat side by side on the settee. Her father held Sylvia’s hand as she leaned close to him, and spoke softly.
“Come in, honey.” He smiled when he noticed Lucy in the doorway.
Tears immediately welled up in Lucy’s eyes. Dabbing with her handkerchief, she sniffed and took the soft leather chair in front of the fireplace.
“I’m so sorry, Papa.” She wiped her cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t have had that one drink this morning. I had a chore to do I wasn’t happy about, so I needed a little bit of courage.”
Her father left Sylvia’s side, proceeded to where Lucy sat, and pulled her up. “Girl, don’t you know courage from a bottle is no courage at all?”
“I know that now.” She sniffed daintily, and peered up at him, her lip trembling. “I’ve never done that before, Papa, and I can assure you I truly learned my lesson.”