Chapter Eight
When Nate had served overseas, there’d been days when nothing went right.
When the wind whipped dirt and grit and hurled it in his face. When bullets flew and rockets exploded and when the very air seemed to make him want to give in and walk away.
Give two examples of honesty in your life—one you experienced with your dad, and one you experienced with someone you loved.
Nothing was going right.
What happens in this family stays in this family.His father’s words.
Nate stared at Julie, but he didn’t see her limp golden hair or her steely gray eyes. He saw his father, leaning over him, shaking a fist in his face. Mom crying softly in the corner. Molly in her arms. Dad’s knuckles red from landing blows.
Since Nate had turned around last night and seen Julie, his thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. Nothing felt right. Not his past. Not his present. Not his future.
The goal of not rejecting Duke outright had been to help Julie gain perspective on the life she’d taken with a bullet, not dig up the skeletons that used to haunt Nate’s nights. What was to be gained by taking the Daddy Test when he didn’t plan on being a full-time dad? April was dead and Julie wouldn’t think better of him if he answered honestly.
What happens in this family stays in this family.
Nate stopped staring at Julie and searched his desk for a blue-ink pen.
And then Duke laughed. More like a giggle. A melodious sound that said: This was a safe place. This town. These four walls. Julie. Nate.
Duke felt safe here. But those things…
Nate could only guarantee they were safe if he had the right to. As sheriff. As a friend. As a father. And to do that…
He had to fight for his job, his friendship with Julie, and Duke.
Nate’s hand came out of the drawer empty. “I don’t talk about my personal history.” Nate’s voice sounded gruffer than a military dog with the enemy in his sights.
“I know.” Julie’s expression turned smug. It was the face of the smug walking dead, but it was smug, nonetheless.
Her complexion might not have looked so stark if she’d worn a pastel shirt. She’d chosen a muted gray button-down. Its drab color matched her skin tone.
Nate washed a hand over his face. “How many questions did you say are in this test?”
“Eight sections. A couple of questions in each section.”
“I’ll answer one section a day.” She wouldn’t give Harmony Valley a month, but she could spare eight days. And maybe that much would help her. It’d be torture for him. Even now, he wanted to put an arm around her, and tell her everything would get better. The bad dreams. The guilt over the shooting. The ambivalence and fear about returning to duty.
Instead of saying any of those things, Nate laced his fingers together and set his hands on his desk. “Let’s do this.”
“But…” Julie’s eyes narrowed. “Eight days?”
Rutgar said something to Duke, too soft to catch beyond the deep rumble of his voice.
Duke giggled again.
Nate nodded, heartened.
“I have a psych evaluation in two days,” Julie admitted, not saying no.
“You won’t pass.” The therapist would take one look at Julie and see she wasn’t ready to return to duty of any kind. Failing would make it harder for Julie to pass the next time. “Call and reschedule.”
“Stay here and hide?” Julie rubbed her injured shoulder, caught him watching her and frowned. “Appear weak? You’d never do that.”
He ignored the ploy to change the subject. “Heal, not hide. Eight days from now you’ll have your strength back and your head on straight.”
“You sound like my mother.” Now it was Julie’s turn to wash a hand over her face. “You’re going to bankrupt me. The Bamp;B isn’t cheap.”
“You can stay with me rent-free.” When she still didn’t capitulate to his terms, Nate put the pressure on. “Those are April’s questions. She wanted my answers. And I’ll give them to you over the course of eight days.”
“And Duke? What are your intentions toward him?”
If he told her he was planning to offer financial help and his last name, she’d demand he sign the custody papers and then bolt. “We’ll talk after the test.”
Nate glanced over his shoulder into the jail cell and then back to Julie. “Let’s go outside.” Where Rutgar wouldn’t hear. The old man might be a recluse, but he was as gossipy as anyone in Harmony Valley, not to mention a member of the phone tree.
Nate led Julie to a bench near the curb. The sun was shining and the sky a clear blue. It was that quiet time midafternoon when folks were at work, busy visiting friends, home watching television or napping. While she settled on the furthest corner of the bench, Nate cast about his memories for something to fit her questions.
“My dad was brutally honest,” Nate began, keeping his body facing forward, not to her.
“Was?” Julie picked up on his word choice immediately. “Is he dead?”
“No.” Nate couldn’t get that lucky. “We don’t talk anymore.”
The garden club had planted flowers beneath a tree a short distance away. A hummingbird flitted around the red buds. So normal. So carefree. His experience with his father was anything but.
And yet, Nate had to start somewhere. “My dad used to tell me what happens in the family stays in the family.” There was an empty shop across the street with Santa, his sleigh and reindeer painted on the window. Santa’s colors were faded, and his face had cracked with age. But he, like the myth of Saint Nick, had weathered many a storm. Nate could do the same. “Dad felt whatever problems we had with each other would only be complicated if we told anyone else.” Like the pastor, the police or child protective services.
“Do you think he was right?” There was gentle curiosity in Julie’s tone, unexpected given the bitterness and blame she used toward him.
“I think he thought he was right.” About teaching his kids to shut up and wipe away tears and lock their feelings away. Sometimes it’d helped, mostly it hadn’t.
“And yet, you don’t talk about your past, so you must agree with him.”
“He and I rarely agreed on anything.”
The hummingbird flew away.
“And the second example?” Julie prompted.
The only thing that came to mind was Nate’s wedding day. It was clear to him from Julie’s accusations last night that she didn’t know the entire truth. Was that the point of April’s test? “Did April tell you what happened on our wedding day?”
“You mean what was supposed to be your wedding day?” Julie’s tone had enough hot sarcasm to propel a steam engine. “Only that the wedding was off.”
Nate stared across the street at Santa and the myth of happily-ever-afters. “She texted me, asking to see me before the ceremony. I thought it was a sign. I’d been having doubts.”
Joe Torino drove by in his tow truck and waved. The mechanic was also a volunteer firefighter.
Nate raised a hand in acknowledgement.
“Hang on.” Julie curled her fingers around Nate’s arm, unaware of how her touch made his stomach tie up in knots. “April asked you to meet? But when you got to the church, you asked me if you could talk to her.”
Only because she’d seen him come in.
Or more precisely, he’d seen Julie and been stopped in his tracks. She’d worn a plum-colored dress that traced her feminine curves in a way no patrol uniform had ever outlined. Julie’s blond hair had been braided around her head like a crown and when she’d smiled... He’d had no idea why April wanted to talk to him, but he’d known it wouldn’t go well by how hard Julie’s appearance impacted him. “There was a traffic jam on the highway. I got there closer to the ceremony than I would’ve liked to. And then you stopped me.”
Her hand slipped away. “So, you went in to see April and...”
“We talked.” Nate returned his gaze to Santa. What could he tell Julie about that day? “And after she questioned my commitment, I admitted I didn’t love April as much as she deserved to be loved.”
“You got that right.” Julie’s voice trembled with anger. “You led her on. You acted like—”
“She said she knew.” There was no way to sugarcoat his words the way Santa might have done. Nate needed to look at Julie and let her see the honesty in his eyes. She’d see the pain, too. And the guilt.
He turned and let her see.
Julie rocked back, as if struck, shaking her head. “No.”
“I loved her,” Nate reiterated in case Julie had missed that part yesterday. “Just not as deeply as a groom should love his bride. I asked April if she still wanted to go through with the wedding and—”
“She did not say no.” Julie’s head shaking had become a slow pendulum swing. “She did not. April was crushed when you dumped her. She barely talked to anyone, not even me.”
Appropriate, given the circumstances. “It was her choice whether we got married or not. And she made the right one.”
“No,” Julie whispered, complexion draining of what little color she had. “No.”
Nate shook his head.
“I have to go. I can’t—”
“Jules.” He reached for her hand.
She jerked away, face contorted with pain. “April wanted to marry you. She told me that morning she was pregnant.” Julie drew a deep breath. Her gaze swept the sidewalk as if searching for answers Nate wouldn’t give. “She said she loved you. She told me she’d make any sacrifice so her baby would have two loving parents. I thought she meant she’d go through any cancer treatment, no matter how heinous, to stay alive.” Her gaze landed on Nate with gut-punching intensity. “If you loved her...she would have married you.”
The truth tried to cut its way from his heart to his mouth. Nate swallowed it back. No good ever came from knowing the full truth. “I loved her, Jules. I never met anyone so kind and thoughtful, so gentle and open. But it wasn’t the absolute be-all-end-all sort of love.” Nate still wasn’t certain he knew what that was. “And when it came down to it, April didn’t want to settle.”
Julie’s hand went to her throat. Her mouth opened and closed. And then she opened it again and spoke, spitting out the words like buckshot. “Then she did it for you. She made things easy on you.” She spun away, and then turned back, color high in her cheeks, tears in her eyes. “You couldn’t have hung in there for her? You knew the likelihood of the tumors returning was almost 100 percent. You couldn’t have made her happy for the time she had left?”
“It would’ve been wrong. We both knew it.” Nate’s throat was choked for a different reason. “She deserved someone who loved her more than life itself.”
Julie closed her eyes and swiped her head from right to left.
“And she got that someone,” Nate whispered. “In Duke.”
Julie’s expression crumpled. But she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” But Nate wanted her to. He didn’t want to admit how much.
Julie’s eyes flew open, and she started to shout, “I could never—”
“No mad words.” As if summoned by April in heaven, Duke ran out of the sheriff’s office. He wrapped his arms around Julie’s. “No mad words.”
“You’re right, Duke,” Julie said slowly. There were still tears in her eyes. “No mad words. Nate isn’t worth the breath. Come on. We’re going home.” She took Duke’s hand and headed toward the office door and her things.
Home. She meant back to Sacramento.
Nate pushed to his feet, darting around them to block their path. “You made a promise, Jules.”
“I don’t care.” She’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes closed, looking as if she’d topple at any moment.
“Eight days,” Nate insisted, reminding himself why he’d made the bargain. “You owe April eight days. Or you’ll never have the answers she sought.”
I want Nate to pay.
Julie’s words to April pinballed around her head as she pushed Duke back to the bed amp; breakfast. Maybe the memory had returned to her because she’d told April she’d wanted justice on multiple occasions. Or maybe because April had made Julie promise to give Nate a chance with Duke when she hadn’t told Julie everything.
April called off the wedding. Not Nate.
Betrayal roiled in her stomach.
Forgive.
It was hard to go for Nate’s jugular when she hadn’t known everything that went on between her sister and Nate. Hard when he was so good with Duke.
No mad words.
How would she honor that for another week? She wished April had never come up with the Daddy Test.
“You can’t hold a special meeting announcing candidates.” Doris was shouting in front of the bakery down the street. If smoke could come out of ears, it would have spewed from Doris’s in one angry volcanic eruption. She spotted Julie. “I’m not ready. I will not allow it!”
Agnes, the pixie-sized councilwoman, followed the direction of Doris’s gaze. Her expression turned thoughtful.
Not wanting to get involved, Julie pushed the stroller faster.
She didn’t want to be sheriff of Harmony Valley. There were no threats in town, no criminal element, no troublemakers. She refused to count Doris or Leona. They weren’t gun-toting domestic abusers or would-be bank robbers that needed to be brought to justice.
She wanted to see Nate suffer. She wanted to feel unadulterated hatred when she looked at him. But she couldn’t. And she hated herself for it. In that moment, she hated April for it. She’d never have lost her grip on anger if she hadn’t promised April to come here.
“No matter what you think of Nate,” April had said, propped up in bed. Her body was losing muscle, even in her cheeks. She was looking less and less like the fighter she’d once been. “He’s Duke’s father. You can’t be a part of Duke’s life while Nate raises him if you’re constantly on his case for what happened between us.”
“Who says Nate’s raising him?” Despite the venom in her words, Julie gently eased April higher in bed, sliding a pillow beneath her shoulders. “You know he doesn’t want kids.”
April touched the scar on her bare scalp where they’d removed the tumor the first time. “Men say things they don’t mean all the time.”
“Like I love you?”
“You don’t understand.” April had latched on to Julie’s hand. “When you’re lying on your deathbed, you won’t be thinking about how much you made Nate suffer.”
“Wanna bet?” Julie would be counting the perps she sent to jail, too.
April dug her fingers into Julie’s bones. “You’ll be thinking about the gifts you had in life and the gifts you left behind.” She tugged on Julie’s arm with more strength than she’d shown in days. “You’re such a pain in the butt.”
Julie worked her fingers beneath April’s until she clasped her hand. “You want forgiveness. I’m more about justice, like Dad.”
April shook her head. “Don’t say justice when you mean revenge.”
In Nate’s case, what was the difference?
Julie reached the bed amp; breakfast, winded. She sat on the bottom step and freed Duke from his safety restraint. “Run on the grass, little man.” While she gathered enough strength to climb the steps to their room. The evening stretched out before her with too many unanswered questions, none of which were part of April’s Daddy Test.
Duke ran to the thick green lawn and made a slow-motion flop onto his tummy. He tucked in his arms and rolled back and forth, giggling.
Julie’s mind drifted back to April and their conversations about the Daddy Test.
“No matter what Nate answers,” Julie had told April. “I won’t approve. He’s not good enough for Duke.”
Her sister had shaken her head. “You’ll see things differently once I’m gone.”
“True that,” Julie muttered as Duke ran across the grass. What was she supposed to make of April turning Nate away? Was it pride? Had she regretted it?
A large black truck drove slowly around the corner. The windows were down, allowing the worst music ever known to mankind—a crying baby—to reach Julie’s ears. The truck slowed and pulled up to the curb in front of the bed amp; breakfast. Flynn grimaced.
Out of sympathy, Julie risked her eardrums and approached the truck. “That’s some set of lungs.” Julie had to utilize her own to be heard.
Flynn nodded and shouted back, “Colic.”
The baby’s car seat was rear facing and in the back seat.
“And now he’s exhausted and won’t sleep,” Julie surmised. She’d been there. And Nate hadn’t. A slow smile lifted her cheeks. “Have you been by the jail? Nate seems like he’s good with kids.” Evil. Julie was evil. She didn’t care.
“Great idea.” Flynn gave her a thumbs-up. “I need to stay away long enough for my wife to get in a good nap since I was gone most of the day.” He waved and drove off.
Duke tugged on Julie’s hand.
Still smiling, Julie looked down. Her smile faded. “What pretty flowers,” she said with false appreciation of the yellow daffodil bouquet he offered her. “Where did you get them?”
“Those are mine.” Leona stood in the bed amp; breakfast doorway, arms crossed. “Meant to be enjoyed by everyone.”
Reggie materialized behind her grandmother. “But we can always plant more flowers.”
Leona rolled her eyes.
Duke turned and saw Leona. “Petty you.” He hurried toward the front porch steps, holding out his bouquet.
“He wants to give you his pretty flowers.” Julie followed, grabbing her backpack and dragging the stroller up the steps without folding it.
“You mean my pretty flowers.” Leona didn’t so much huff as breathe fire, although her ire was directed at Julie, not Duke.
“When was the last time anyone gave you flowers, Grandmother?” Reggie wore the grin Julie was becoming familiar with, the one that said she was enjoying her grandmother’s discomfort. “You should accept them.”
Duke stopped a few feet from Leona and raised the bouquet. “Petty you?”
“Thank you,” Leona said stiffly, taking the bent-stemmed flowers from Julie’s little love. “I’ll put these in water.”
“Good fend.” Duke hugged the elderly woman’s leg with little hands that left dirt smudges on her plain green dress.
Before Leona realized she’d been sullied, Julie folded the umbrella stroller, took Duke by the hand and led him upstairs. She had to stop at the top and catch her breath. When she looked back down at Leona, she realized a miracle had occurred.
Leona stood in the foyer, smiling at the flowers.