Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Julianna: It was great. Got some blood work as well as the hot physician assistant’s phone number.
I read Jules’ last text repeatedly, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me in front of my coworkers.
The forest service staff was gathered for our monthly safety meeting, and as the supervisor, I should have been paying attention.
Instead, all I could think of was some douchebag in a white coat inappropriately soliciting Julianna at her doctor appointment.
I shook the thoughts away for the twentieth time, trying to listen to my employees as they dutifully discussed chainsaw safety.
“Chaps are required for all operation of the chainsaw,” Doug droned in front of the large screen that projected his rudimentary PowerPoint slides. “Always operate the chainsaw within your skill level?— ”
“I’m pretty sure that means you shouldn’t be using one, squirt,” Tom, an older forest ranger, joked. The staff around the table snickered, and Doug scoffed. Junior rangers always received a hard time from the staff—it was a rite of passage.
“Ha-ha,” Doug replied. He continued to read aloud more OSHA rules, and my phone rang. I’d forgotten to turn the ringer off. Whit’s name appeared on the screen. Melanie’s eyebrows raised when she glanced over and saw the name on the phone, which lay on the table.
“Guys, I’ll be right back.” It wasn’t my finest leadership moment, but I felt it could be significant if Whit called midday. I retreated to my office, shutting the door behind me. “Hello?”
“All I’m going to say before I blow my stack is, don’t you dare fucking lie to me. Did you talk my sister into staying with you?”
I didn’t think Julianna would talk to Whit before I did, but I was wrong. I ran a hand through my hair and sat behind my desk, the chair squeaking under my weight.
“How did you find out?”
I heard the echo of voices in Whit’s background, but he pressed on at full speed. “She told me, how else would I find out? What the hell, dude? Did you touch her? That’s your sister.”
I grit my teeth together. “She’s not my sister. We don’t share one drop of blood.” I put a clear emphasis on my words.
“Semantics. What happened to ‘I won’t touch her, Whit?’”
I closed my eyes. “I haven’t touched her, not like that. What did she say?” I needed to know if she’d told Whit about the fake marriage, too.
“That she didn’t want to stay at Grams’ because of the remodel. That it hurt, she didn’t know what I’d done, maybe? I’m confused…”
I bit my lip. “I can’t speak for her. Things are complicated. She’s going through a lot. ”
He huffed. “Listen to you, talking like you know her better than me. You’ve been with her for less than seventy-two hours.”
I shook my head, even though I knew what he was getting at. I didn’t know her, not really, even if I wanted to.
“There’s no reason to be a dick,” I snapped. “You know how I feel about her.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m telling you, do not touch her. Don’t make any moves on her.”
He must not know about the fake marriage, then. I shoved that aside as anger swept through me. Who did Whit think he was? He was Julianna’s brother, but he wasn’t her keeper. Nor mine.
“I won’t promise that. It’s not your decision to make.”
“Listen to me closely,” Whit countered, his voice steely.
“I know how you are, Bram. You’ll get Jules in your system, then you’ll get bored, and then you’ll break her heart.
It’s what you always do in every relationship you’ve ever had.
I’ve watched it happen over and over. I can’t watch it happen to my sister. ”
“How do you know she wouldn’t be different?”
“How do you know that she would be?”
I let the words sink in, and my anger cooled into doubt.
I had already hurt Julianna in so many ways. I was trying to show her how sorry I was for the mistakes of my youth and the truths I had yet to admit to her, but nothing would ever be enough. I could never make up for how I’d failed her.
What if I admitted to her that I still had feelings for her after all these years, and she accepted me, then I messed up again? I couldn’t imagine doing it in a million years. But still…what if I did? Even if it wasn’t on purpose?
“You’re right,” I conceded. “I don’t want to hurt her. That’s the last thing I want.”
He let out a long breath. “I didn’t mean to be harsh. But she’s my sister. You know she is not going to stay in Mill Creek. She’s going back to her life in Charlotte once this is over. That’s always been her plan.”
I could hear the nails being driven into my coffin of hope with every word he spoke.
How could I tell him about the fake marriage now? He’d see it as another manipulation. I bent over in my seat. “I hear you. You’re right. I’ll stay away from her like that.”
“I wish I could come out there. It would make all this easier. Life’s really teaching me that I need family. I miss her, and being around you, too, man.”
“Yeah.” My heart wasn’t in the conversation anymore. My friend could not support me in what I wanted most, and I couldn’t find the false optimism to be there for him either. “I gotta go. We’re in a meeting.”
“Sure thing. I’ll holler at you.”
I ended the call.
Julianna: When are you coming home?
The text came through about four-thirty pm. It was simple, yet it made my insides twist with so many stupid emotions. She’d called it her home, and she cared what time I would be with her. Knowing those two things was enough to make my chest puff with pride. Fuck that physician’s assistant.
“Got a hot date?” I typed out the teasing, somewhat flirty remark I would typically make. But then I erased it.
Me: Soon. I’ll pick up some burgers.
I put my phone down and started the truck. An immediate reply appeared.
Julianna: No need. I’ve got something here for us. I was hoping you were on your way .
I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. She had taken the time to fix supper for us.
Me: Go ahead and eat. I’ve got some errands. Your back feeling okay?
I had to ask. It wouldn’t matter if I pulled away. I would always care.
Julianna: Not too bad. See you in a bit.
I wish I could read between the lines in those words and gauge her level of disappointment, but I couldn’t. I knew better than to make assumptions. Maybe she cared, perhaps she didn’t, and whatever the answer, this could only end one way.
I had to think of random things to kill time so I wouldn’t go home and make terrible choices. I went to the pet store in South Roanoke and bought a few things for Lakey. Realizing I’d only wasted an hour, I stopped for some food and a beer at Lady Jane’s, the only bar in Mill Creek.
The place was empty. No game was on to draw crowds, and there were no weekend tourists.
All that suited me fine. The last thing I needed was to be among people wanting to initiate conversations.
I’d just bitten into the first couple of fries I’d ordered when I felt a friendly slap on my back and a hand clutching my shoulder.
“Well, if it isn’t the best tight end to ever play in North Carolina!”
The immediate groan that wanted to climb out of me could barely be contained. I turned to face the pleasant yet rugged face of my old high school football coach, Jim Mayfield.
“Hey, Coach,” I said casually, turning and shaking the man’s hand.
I had no ill will toward Coach Mayfield.
He’d been a great example of a good man for many years when I needed it most. We had been close then.
But Coach was the embodiment of football in my mind.
Seeing him now made me think of things I wanted to forget, like where my father claimed he paid the University of Alabama to accept me on a football scholarship, something he’d held onto until the night of the wreck.
I didn’t want to remember any of it. Not the wreck. Not the betrayal. And certainly not the satisfied look on my father’s face as he threw my world into a tailspin.
I often wondered if Coach Mayfield knew I was recruited falsely, but I would never ask him. I had an image of him that I didn’t want tarnished.
“How you been doing, son?” Coach Mayfield asked.
“I’m holding up.” I took a bite of a fry, wanting to groan once again as he sat beside me. “How’s Betty doing?”
The older man’s eyes glistened as they met mine. “She’s fair to middlin’. We’re moving to Florida, in case no one’s said anything to you yet.”
I internally recalled my conversation with Josiah in the parking lot after the MCA dinner. It had only been last Friday, but it felt like a million years ago.
“You know damn well Josiah already told me.”
“Never could get one over on you.” He laughed good-naturedly.
“I had to sic someone on you. You never called to take me up on the offer. You ought to see what I’m working with this season.
” He whistled for punctuation, then he nodded toward the bartender, who came over and took his order.
The third unspoken groan echoed within me as he ordered the same thing I had. Food meant I was in for the long haul.
“Good talent this year?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. Got a couple of freshmen with promise, and you ought to see the quarterback. He’s a good leader, and that’s on top of a mean throwing arm. Good eye, too. ”
“That’s great.”
I couldn’t focus as he talked about his team. My thoughts swam to my father, Whit, and Julianna.
“What’s eatin’ you? You look miles away.”
“Sorry,” I replied. “Not personal. It’s been a long day. Weekend can’t come soon enough.”
“Hmm,” he said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the talk I heard about Whitaker East’s sister being back in town?”
My eyebrows shot up. “Word travels fast around here,” I said, then downed a swig of my beer. “How would that affect me?”
A smile played on the older man’s lips. “Wouldn’t have meant a thing if old widow Erma hadn’t seen you two moving boxes at Leota’s old house.”