Free Trial by Fire by Jo Davis Page A

years later, the cops were a constant presence at my old place. Nobody in the county was surprised about the blowout the night my mother left.”
    “This is none of my business and I won’t take it personally if you don’t want to answer, but . . . why is your last name different from your adoptive parents’?”
    Howard looked away, wondering how she’d managed to locate and poke at every painful sore in his life in record time. Except for Sean, his brothers had never asked him outright, and he’d never offered to share. Then again, he’d never felt compelled to come clean on the subject before. With Kat, everything was different. She made him want to be . . . more. He saw no reason he shouldn’t open up for her, just a tiny bit.
    “When Bentley and Georgie took me home, I was traumatized,” he said quietly. “No matter how they loved and nurtured me, tried to heal my wounds, I remained withdrawn. I didn’t speak for months, and when I finally started to respond, they thought it best not to push me too hard on the ‘Call us Mommy and Daddy’ thing. For a while, at least.”
    “Makes sense. You weren’t a baby anymore, and you needed a period of adjustment.”
    “And I came around, eventually, after we traveled the mother of all rough roads together. But by the time we bonded, they were Bentley and Georgie to me, permanently. They decided to leave the decision to me whether or not I’d take the Mitchell name when I turned eighteen. Of course, as a teenager, I was full of myself, determined to be my own man. I went to court and legally dropped my last name, period. From Howard Paxton Whitlaw, Howard Paxton was reborn.”
    The first and last time he’d ever hurt Bentley. The terrible disappointment etched on the face of the man he respected and admired the most; he’d live with it until he drew his last breath.
    “You regret your decision.” The observation was spoken with complete understanding.
    Howard swallowed hard. “Every day of my life.”
    “You could go back to court.”
    “Yeah, but it wouldn’t change what I did to them. Wouldn’t fix anything. I waited too long.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. You might be surprised.”
    Down the river, from the direction of the large party, a woman’s voice called out, searching for someone. Focused on Kat, Howard missed who the lady was yelling for.
    “Optimist,” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.
    She grinned back. “A perfect partner for a realist.”
    The woman called out again, louder. More strident.
    Damn, why did there have to be so many people here today? Trying to tune out the racket, he did some nosing of his own. “Tell me, how does one of Sugarland’s spoiled rich girls wind up teaching first grade and doing the bachelorette gig across town from the McKenna minimansion?”
    “My family isn’t rich.” She laughed, not offended in the least. “Daddy has a successful law practice, which my older sister, Grace, joined as a partner last year, but he’s worked like a dog for as long as I can remember. He—”
    “Emily!” A woman’s shrill scream shattered the beautiful afternoon. “Emileeeeee! OhGodohGod!”
    Howard bolted to his feet, heart pounding. He knew the awful, keening sound of a mother’s grief and terror. Was more intimately acquainted than most with the stab of fear driving straight through a man’s sternum, knowing every second counted. Years of training kicked in as he scanned down river, toward the crowd.
    Two men plunged into the river at a dead run, toward a small figure bobbing a few feet from shore.
    Kat came to her feet beside him. “Howard? What is it?”
    “The baby,” he rasped. “Jesus Christ.”
    Adrenaline turbo-charged his legs as he took off, but his mind was sharp as a knife blade. Assess the situation, take the appropriate action. Nothing else mattered.
    One of the men scooped a limp, wet bundle into his arms, screaming frantically for help.
    Howard ran harder, praying sixteen years in the trenches