Maverick vs. Maverick Read online

  That elicited a couple of laughs from the gallery. Lindsay shot Marty a glare.

  “We intend to prove that Just Us Kids Day Care was not negligent, and therefore not responsible for this child’s illness.” Marty thanked the judge, then returned to his seat. He flashed Walker a smug grin.

  Any other time, Walker would have been heartened by his attorney’s surety, pleased by his attack. But today, winning meant hurting Lindsay, destroying the case she had worked to build. And very likely killing any chance of anything happening between them. His business would win, but his heart would lose.

  Okay, so maybe that was being too dramatic. But it was ironic that once again, business was costing Walker a relationship. One that he knew was impossible, because they wanted different lives and lived in different places, and were literally on different sides, but that he still wanted to have.

  Lindsay called the teary parents to the stand, one after the other. They each recounted the beginnings of their baby’s illness, the scary moments in the hospital with their infant hooked up to machines to help her breathe, the fear that their child might die. Even Walker, who had told himself he was going to remain unemotional through the trial, felt his throat tighten. He could only imagine the stress and worry they’d endured.

  “It was the single most terrifying week of my life,” Peter Marshall said in a shaky voice. “We love Georgina more than anything in the world, and if I could have traded places with her, I would have gladly given my own breath for hers.”

  What would it be like to have been loved by parents like that, Walker wondered. To love a child of his own like that? Would he be a parent like the Marshalls, wholly dedicated to his child, or would he be as uninvolved and distant as his own parents had been?

  He watched Lindsay questioning them and saw her eyes glisten from time to time with unshed tears. Marty muttered something about the tears being for dramatic effect, but Walker knew better. Lindsay cared—and cared deeply—about her clients, about their child, about this town.

  He had no doubt what kind of mother she would be. The kind who would move heaven and earth to protect her child. A mother who would fill a home with warmth and laughter and sweet memories.

  She was that kind of woman. The kind a man should marry. Plan a life with.

  The thought had come out of nowhere, surprised him. He should be focused on the lawsuit—on the imminent future of Just Us Kids Day Care—and not on the future of Lindsay Dalton.

  Marty got to his feet as Lindsay sat down. He glanced at his legal pad, gathering his thoughts, preparing his attack in his head. Walker had seen him do it a dozen times and knew what was coming next. Marty would circle his prey like a friendly hawk, then the second he spotted weakness, he would swoop in and exploit it until the witness crumpled.

  Hell, Peter Marshall was already crumpling. He didn’t need Marty’s help. The father swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He shared a shaky smile with his wife, the two of them seeming to have a strong, silent bond.

  If I could have traded places with her, I would have gladly given my own breath for hers.

  Marty turned toward the witness stand. “Cute kid you have there, Mr. Marshall.” Marty gave the sleeping baby in the gallery an indulgent smile. “Bet she’s the apple of your eye.”

  Peter smiled. “You know it.”

  “Can’t say I blame you. Kids do have a way of wrapping you around their little fingers.” Marty glanced again at his pad, as if he was recalling a memory or another sweet tidbit. But Walker knew better. Marty was just feigning friendliness before circling closer. “Mr. Marshall, have you taken your baby out in public since she’s been born?”

  Peter let out a little laugh, as if the question was absurd. “Well, of course we have.”

  “To the grocery store, friends’ houses, things like that?”

  “Yes. But not all the time. In the beginning, she was so frail—”

  “And when you took her out, did you make everyone who saw her disinfect their hands, maybe wear a face mask?” Marty asked.

  Peter’s brows crinkled in confusion. “Well, no, that’s—”

  “So if someone saw your baby, maybe held her or just chucked that adorable little girl under the chin—” Marty made the motion of doing that “—and they had maybe a touch of a cold, you would still let them get that close?”

  “Well, we didn’t know if everyone—”

  “You didn’t know if they were carrying rhinovirus germs, did you? Or maybe some kind of upper-respiratory infection?” Marty moved a few steps closer to the witness stand. “Or even maybe RSV?”

  “No, but—”

  “And yet you allowed those people to get close without taking proper measures to ensure there was no risk of disease?”

  Lindsay shot to her feet. “Objection! Mr. Peyton is implying that my client made his daughter sick simply by living a normal life.”

  “Overruled. Mr. Peyton has a point about exposure, and part of your case, Ms. Dalton, is tracing the source of the infection,” Judge Andrews said. He turned to the witness. “You may answer the question, Mr. Marshall.”

  Alarm filled Peter’s face. He leaned forward, his voice earnest. “We didn’t think the people who were around Georgina were carrying diseases, Mr. Peyton. We knew everyone—”

  “And you knew their medical histories?”

  Peter looked to Lindsay, then back at Marty. “Well, no. But that didn’t mean—”

  “And so you blame Mr. Jones’s day care—” Marty turned to point at Walker “—for an illness that your baby could have easily contracted through your own negligence.”

  Now Peter saw what Marty was doing. Anger filled his eyes. “Hey! We weren’t negligent. We were very careful with Georgina.”

  “So careful that you kept her in a little bubble?” Marty didn’t wait for a response. “I didn’t think so. You exposed your daughter to the world, Mr. Marshall, and that world is filled with germs. She could have gotten sick anywhere.”

  “But she didn’t. She got sick at day care.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We didn’t go out that week.” Peter sat back against his chair, confident that he was disproving Marty’s theory. But Walker knew better. Marty wouldn’t have started these questions if he didn’t have some kind of other knowledge. But Peter went on, oblivious to the defense counsel’s plan. “And by Thursday, Georgina had a cough. By Sunday, she was in the hospital.”

  “So no one outside of yourself and your wife, oh, and the people at Just Us Kids, came into contact with Georgina? No one at all? Not a mailman, a pizza delivery boy, a grandmother?”

  Peter’s features creased. He glanced at Lindsay again, clearly hoping she’d save the day. But there was no way to undo the words Peter had already said, the admissions he’d made that he had taken his baby out among people who could be sick. Peter let out a long breath, then turned back to Marty. “I forgot that I had stopped at the neighbor’s house on Monday night to pick up some cookies they had baked for me. It was my birthday the day before, and I was running home with Georgina from day care. I forgot to tell you, honey,” he said to his wife. “I forgot all about it when Georgina got sick and all we thought about was making her well.” He turned back to Marty. “I didn’t stay long, maybe only a couple minutes.”

  “And did you know if those nice neighbors were a hundred percent healthy? Or whether they were...” Marty paused, like a hunter about to slay the dragon with a sword. “Sick the week before?”

  “No,” Peter said softly. Then a realization dawned in his eyes. He gave his wife another look of apology, and Walker could see the pain in Peter’s face as he put the pieces together. “The week before, yes, one of their kids stayed home from school with a cold. But we weren’t there long, and their son was all better. He was running around and laughing and—
”

  “You took an infant to a home that could have had lingering illness in it? Germs on the doorknob you touched, perhaps? Or maybe even a few germs on the cookies you surely ingested later? And then you handled your baby, transmitting whatever germs you picked up at the same time you picked up those cookies—”

  “No, no. It was the day care center!” Peter leaned across the bench. “I know it was.”

  “Honestly, Mr. Marshall, you don’t know that.” Marty shook his head. “After all that, can you tell me with one hundred percent certainty that Mr. Jones’s day care center was the only place, the only possible source, of your child’s illness?”

  Peter hung his head. “No,” he mumbled. “I can’t.”

  “No further questions.” Marty spun on his heel and returned to the table with a triumphant smile on his face.

  Any other day, Walker would have rejoiced with his lawyer. But today, he was left with a sick feeling in his stomach as he watched a contrite and broken Peter Marshall head back to the defendant’s table to hug his wife and whisper “I’m sorry” over and over again.

  Lindsay called Dr. Jonathan Clifton to the stand, followed by the doctor at the hospital, and made a strong case with each of them that the RSV was contracted at the day care center. Then Marty got his turn, and all of Lindsay’s hard work was undone in a matter of minutes. She was a smart attorney, impassioned, but she was no match for Marty’s experience and cutthroat instincts. He called Hudson, then Bella Stockton to the stand, along with several other workers from the day care center, and finally Walker himself, all of them making a strong and clear case that the center was clean and up to standards. Lindsay tried to negate their testimony by asking about the disinfection procedures, but in the end, Marty was a more effective questioner.

  Which was why Walker had hired Marty in the first place.

  But as he watched Lindsay’s case fall apart, he wished he had hired a pussycat for an attorney instead of a hungry panther.

  The two attorneys made their closing arguments, and the judge recessed court while he pondered his decision. Everyone got to their feet and headed out of the courtroom. Bella told Walker she had to get back to work, and Hudson offered her a ride. “Let me know what happens,” he said to Walker.

  “I will.” He said goodbye to the two of them, then glanced across the hall, where Lindsay was talking to the Marshalls. Once again, Lindsay avoided looking at Walker. She huddled close to her clients, reassuring them in soft tones as she passed him in the aisle.

  “I’m going to catch some air,” Walker said to Marty. Lindsay had headed away from the courtroom as fast as possible. Her clients were standing in a corner by the soda machine, holding hands.

  “Don’t go far. Andrews is known to decide quickly. He’s not the kind of judge who likes to think about things for a long time. Cheer up. This is good news. You’ll be out of this town before you know it.”

  “Yeah,” Walker said, glancing again at the Marshalls. “That’s good news.”

  He headed down the hall, away from the people milling in the tiled hall. His dress shoes echoed on the hard floor. He kept on walking until he reached a door marked Exit. A second later, he was outside, in the cool Montana air with a bright, happy sun shining on his face.

  He leaned against the brick building and let out a breath. He’d never been this conflicted before, never had doubts that he was doing the right thing. It was the right decision for his company—that he knew for certain. If he lost this lawsuit, the entire future of Just Us Kids would be in jeopardy, and his father’s prediction of doom for the chain would come true. Yet another black mark against his son.

  But if Walker won, the Marshalls were going to be left feeling guilty for their baby’s illness, and Lindsay would probably hate him for tearing apart her case.

  The door beside him opened, and Lindsay stepped outside. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Please, stay.”

  “I should get inside.” She started to step back, but he reached out a hand to her.

  “Please. Stay.” He pushed off from the wall and stood in front of her. “I feel terrible about today.”

  She snorted. “Really? That’s why you had your lawyer reduce my client to tears?”

  “That wasn’t my intent, Lindsay. I told him to go easy—”

  She put up her hands. “Number one, we can’t talk about this. It’s an ongoing lawsuit. And number two, I don’t want to talk about this with you, of all people.”

  “Then can we talk about something else?” He waved toward the grassy area beside the building. “It’s a beautiful day. Come out and enjoy it with me. Please.”

  She looked over his shoulder. “I just wanted a few minutes of peace before the judge calls us back in.”

  “That’s all I want, too. No reason we can’t have those few moments together.”

  Her eyes met his, and he saw them glisten. “There are a hundred reasons why we can’t, Walker.”

  “We only need one that we can.” He stepped back, releasing her. “Share the wall with me, Lindsay.”

  She hesitated a moment longer, and his heart leaped with hope. Then she shook her head. “I can’t. Because I can’t be with someone who will destroy a family, all to protect a bottom line.”

  The door shut with a heavy, hard slam. And the sunny day suddenly seemed to dim.

  * * *

  Lindsay knew what the judge was going to say before he spoke. She stood in the courtroom, flanked by the Marshalls, and felt her heart sink. All that work, all that hope, wasted.

  “It is the opinion of this court,” Judge Andrews said, “that the plaintiffs did not prove a clear-cut source for their daughter’s illness. While the illness was no doubt difficult and scary and nearly fatal, the facts do not support the claim that Mr. Jones’s day care center was responsible. Therefore, judgment is for the defendant.” He rapped his gavel, and it was over.

  Peter and Heather turned to Lindsay. “That’s it?”

  Lindsay nodded. “We can appeal, but I really don’t think we have much chance of overturning Judge Andrews’s decision.”

  “I’m sorry,” Peter said, taking the now awake baby from her grandmother. Georgina fussed, and Peter shifted his daughter’s weight in his arms. “I really did forget about stopping at the neighbor’s until just then. I was so worried about Georgina when she was sick, and when we were preparing for this lawsuit, I was just overwhelmed with work and—”

  Lindsay shook her head. “It’s fine, Peter. Don’t blame yourself.” Blame your lawyer who didn’t win today. Blame her for letting you down when you really needed someone strong in your corner.

  “But I do. We have all those bills...” He shook his head and glanced at his wife. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  She put a hand on his cheek, her gaze soft, her smile understanding. Heather and Peter’s love for each other showed in the way they touched, talked, held together, no matter what came their way. “It’s okay, Peter. Georgina is well again. We have a wonderful family, and we’re just going to move forward from here.”

  Hearing a sound behind them, Lindsay turned and saw Walker standing there. He was the last person she wanted to see right now, and definitely the last one Peter and Heather wanted to see. “What are you doing here? Gloating over your win?”

  “No. I’m here to speak to the Marshalls.” He put out his hand, but neither Peter nor Heather took it. Walker let his hand drop. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for all your family has been through.”

  Heather scowled. “It was your fault, your day care’s fault. Regardless of what the judge said.”

  Georgina started to cry, as if she was agreeing, too. Peter tried to soothe his daughter, but she was having none of that. Heather took the baby, but still Georgina cried. Heather blew her bangs out of her face and tried bouncing
the baby and whispering soothing words in her ear.

  “Regardless of how things turned out today,” Walker said, “I would like to pay your medical expenses.”

  Lindsay’s jaw dropped. “But...but you won. You are not responsible for those bills.”

  “I want to pay them, and would have, either way,” Walker said. “Please, let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do.”

  The Marshalls stood there, stunned and quiet. Georgina, however, was still crying and now reaching, not toward Peter or Heather or even Lindsay, but toward Walker. Her mother tried to soothe her, but Georgina only cried harder, her little hands splaying, arms straining, in Walker’s direction.

  He glanced at Lindsay, then back at Heather. “Is she...is she reaching for me?”

  Heather was having trouble keeping her squirmy daughter in her arms. Georgina seemed determined to go over Heather’s forearm and dive into Walker. “I think so. If you don’t mind, just for a second, maybe it’ll calm her down?”

  “Uh...okay.” Walker put out his hands, palms up and facing each other.

  Heather laughed. “No, not like you’re taking a football. Like this.” She stepped forward, bending one of his arms to cradle against Georgina’s back, then moving his other arm to support her weight, as she shifted the baby into the space created against Walker’s chest.

  “Heather, I don’t think—”

  But Peter’s words fell on deaf ears as his wife settled their baby in Walker Jones’s arms. Georgina stopped crying almost immediately and pressed her head to Walker’s chest. Walker hesitated for a moment, then smiled down at the soft, sweet baby in his arms. A look of wonder filled his eyes. “I’ve never done this before. Are you sure I’m doing it right?”