Emma's Wish

"Overruled," the judge ordered.

"Tell me, Mr. Jenkins." The lawyer spoke smoothly, confidently. "If you can't pay your bills, isn't it common practice for the bank to foreclose on the property."

"I suppose so ..."

"Then how will you provide a home for the children?"

Sam's voice quieted, but the pledge was clear. "I will, no matter what it takes."

"Of course you will," the lawyer said in agreement, but Sam didn't miss the patronizing tone. "Like you provided for your poor wife?"

Sam's face reddened. He hadn't been able to give Catherine what she needed, and the lawyer knew it.

"Your first wife died, isn't that correct?"

"Yes."

"Was she ill, or did she have an accident?"

"She got sick."

"And what was the cause of her illness?"

"We're not really sure."

The lawyer's eyebrows arched. "You're not sure? How can you not be sure what happened to your own wife? What did the doctor say?"

"She didn't see a doctor."

"Why not?"

"We couldn't afford a doctor."

"You couldn't have paid him with a pig? Or even a chicken?"

Sam recognized the lawyer's attempt to show him as a man who hadn't provided for his wife, so couldn't provide for his children. "Not then. But now--"

"Didn't your wife ask to return to her family? And didn't you refuse?"

Before Sam had a chance to answer, the lawyer continued on. "Perhaps if you'd permitted your wife to go home, she'd be alive today. Isn't that so?"

A collective gasp filled the courtroom as Sam bounded out of the chair. He couldn't sit there and listen to the lawyer's accusations a minute longer. He'd lived with the guilt of Catherine's death since the day it happened, and he'd never be free of it. He sure didn't need some lawyer to remind him he was responsible. He opened his mouth to say just that, but before he had a chance to speak, the judge banged his gavel and shouted. "That's enough, Mr. Ambrose. Sit down, Mr. Jenkins."

Sam glared at the lawyer, who had moved away and now leaned against the table, one hip resting on the corner and his arms folded across his chest. He was smiling, a sanctimonious grin that Sam was itching to remove from his face.

The courtroom quieted.

"I apologize, Mr. Jenkins. I didn't realize you were so sensitive," the lawyer gushed. "Are you able to continue, or should we ask for a short recess?"

"I'm fine," Sam muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

"Good. I only have a few more questions. How long have you and the current Mrs. Jenkins been married?"

"Two months."

"You testified you'd only known each other a few days before you married her, and that you're very happy."

Sam nodded. "That's right."