Chapter Fourteen
“This forum will open with a statement of qualifications by each candidate.” Mayor Larry wore a muted orange tie-dyed button-down. Formal for him.
Nate hadn’t dressed up. It was blue jeans and a blue checkered shirt, same as always. Despite the earlier pep talk, nerves bumped around his gut like a bouncy ball in a small room. He wanted to do well, and he wanted Julie to do well.
Just not as well as he did.
No one wanted to miss the carnival. The church was packed with residents, divided largely by gender—men on the right, women on the left. Mayor Larry stood at the podium where Doris had made her case against Nate the other night, emceeing the event. The town council sat at their usual table opposite Nate and Julie. Duke squirmed from his seat in Julie’s lap.
“We’ll begin with our current sheriff.” Mayor Larry turned the floor over to Nate.
“Well, I...” Nate felt the town’s eyes upon him. Those bouncy balls bounced faster in his gut. He hadn’t thought much about an introduction. He’d never run for anything before. “I’ve been your sheriff for several years. We’ve weathered a storm or two. We’ve put out fires together. And I...I like to think we all know each other. Trust each other. Like each other.” His gaze tripped over sour-looking Doris and moved on to Julie, who sat to his left, nearest her supporters.
Julie looked transformed. Her hair bounced with life at her shoulders. The dark circles were less pronounced. She didn’t breathe as if the next lungful of air might be her last. Harmony Valley was restoring her, body and soul.
“Sheriff...” Mayor Larry prompted.
Nate jolted back to the present and the dilemma of what to say. He couldn’t talk about fairness. He couldn’t talk about his career history. He couldn’t talk about the low crime rate. “That’s about it.”
Duke was sitting in Julie’s lap, pounding his head into her shoulder. Seven o’clock was late for a toddler, too late to be out. She was trying to calm him without making him fuss, but his son was tired and cranky. She jiggled him gently on her knees, but she was fighting a losing battle.
The mayor wanted more from Nate. “And before you came to Harmony Valley?”
Bounce, bounce, bounce.
“I was a sheriff in Willows.”
Rutgar sat in the front row, frowning, and shaking his head. He wanted Nate to say more about himself. Terrance nodded his head, encouraging Nate to go on.
Mayor Larry gestured toward Nate, wanting more information.
They wanted him to share something personal?
What happens in the family, stays in the family.
His gaze connected with Julie’s. Tense shoulders, tense lips. She looked as stressed out as he felt.
Bounce, bounce, bounce.
“Um...” Nate tried not to squirm the way Duke was, but there was no getting out of it. “And I spent a few years as a patrolman in the Sacramento Police Department. Before that, I served overseas.” He refrained from mentioning he’d been a sniper.
Doris scribbled on her notepad. Across the aisle on Nate’s side of the room, Chad Healy typed on his tablet. He wrote a blog about small-town life in Harmony Valley, mostly gentle satire. He was probably hoping to get a lot of mileage out of the town’s short election season. Nate hoped it wasn’t at his expense.
The mayor hesitated, as if expecting more from Nate. When more didn’t come, he sighed and turned to Julie. “And your qualifications, Ms. Smith?”
Duke let out a frustrated cry and bent over backward. He would’ve fallen if Julie hadn’t had a firm grip on his waist. Nate reached for Duke, but Julie gave a miniscule shake of her head. She deftly spun Duke around in her lap and handed him a bribe—a cake pop from the bakery.
The women in the audience nodded and whispered to each other, appreciative of Julie’s parenting skills.
Rutgar muttered what sounded like, “I knew it was a trap.”
Julie drew a breath and began her pitch. “I’ve served with the Sacramento Police Department for years. First as a patrolman, and most recently on the SWAT team.”
“SWAT.” Mayor Larry glanced back at the congregation. “That’s a very violent job.”
“Objection!” Doris rocketed to her feet with such fervor the church seemed to shake. “Favoritism.”
“This isn’t a courtroom, Doris.” The mayor waved at her to sit back down. “I’m simply stating Ms. Smith serves on an intense unit that uses force.”
“Objection!” Refusing to sit, Doris shook her pen at the mayor. “You’re interpreting her words.”
“No. Mad. Words.” Duke’s face crumpled and he threw the cake pop on the floor.
The crowd gasped.
“It’s okay, buddy.” Nate was out of his seat and had his son in his arms before the gasps faded. He began pacing the altar, much as he’d seen Flynn pace with Ian, patting his back, holding him close. “Nobody’s going to shout anymore.” He sent Doris a stern look.
She sat down.
Rutgar turned his back to the female side of the room and shielded a thumbs up to Nate from the opposition’s view.
“Sheriff Landry, can you sit?” Mayor Larry’s smile was strained. He was a man of peace and tranquility. The natives were getting restless, and he didn’t like it. “Your pacing is distracting.”
“You’re not the one trying to keep a child happy,” Nate said in a tone of voice Duke would approve of.
“Let him walk.” Julie picked up the remains of the cake pop with a tissue. “Can we get on with the questions?”
“Let’s move on to the issues the town council wanted addressed.” Mayor Larry perused a piece of yellow lined paper. “Sheriff Landry, now that the winery tasting room is open, what precautions are being taken to keep drunk drivers off the streets?”
“Objection!” Doris took several steps toward the podium, stopping when she noticed Duke’s trembling lip and Nate’s attempt to calm the toddler down. “The winery has a suggested two-glass limit,” she continued in a softer voice.
“The glass limit was the sheriff’s suggestion.” Mayor Larry took on the rebuttal for Nate, turning to face the crowd. “As was my offering a party bus to and from the winery and Main Street so that downtown businesses might benefit from the winery’s tourism.”
“Well, at least the sheriff’s suggestion didn’t mean he was riding the coattails of others’ successes.” Doris sat back down. “Mr. Mayor, you charge for that bus and then pocket the money.”
Several women on Julie’s side of the room looked like they wanted to shift allegiances. Nate began to breathe easier.
Mayor Larry turned back to the candidates and used a tie-dyed handkerchief to blot the sweat from his thin face. “The next question is for Ms. Smith. Our town is bordered by a small state highway and a river. In the past, both have been used as a dumping ground for garbage. How would you combat the problem?”
“I’ll answer that.” Joe Torino, the mechanic who lived and worked near the east bridge and the river, stood on Nate’s side of the room. “Since we reopened the garage and set up the permanent outdoor art display, on land donated by Mayor Larry, there hasn’t been a dumping problem.”
If anyone was winning the debate at this point, it might have been Mayor Larry. He knew it, too. His smile eased. Even Duke relaxed, laying his head on Nate’s shoulder. His limbs slackened.
“Perhaps we should move on to questions from the audience,” Agnes suggested from the town council table.
“Me first.” Doris raised her hand and then without waiting to be selected, she blurted, “Sheriff Landry, are you aware that our mayor does naked yoga in a public place?”
Nate stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the altar, choosing his words carefully. “I haven’t witnessed Mayor Larry doing yoga.” Everyone knew about the mayor’s preference for yoga down by the river, and most knew he was fully clothed unless they were in the warmer months. Regardless, most of those out walking or jogging before work gave that section of river a wide berth.
“He’s received no citations for public indecency.” Doris was trying to box Nate in, and pretty adeptly, too.
“No one’s complained.” Mayor Larry spoke without turning.
With a smile plumping her cheeks, Doris turned to the assembly. “Does anyone disapprove of the mayor’s practice?”
A few women supporting Julie raised their hands. Nate couldn’t blame them.
“I told you it was a trap,” Rutgar muttered.
“Moving on.” The mayor’s cheeks might have been a bit pink beneath his year-round tan. “The next question from the audience is for Ms. Smith. Who has a question for—”
“Ms. Smith.” Rutgar pounded his cane on the floor. “Why are you running for office here? I can’t think of any reason other than you want to be on the mommy track.”
“Objection!” Doris’s voice rattled the rafters. “It’s the sheriff’s child.”
“But she’s got custody,” Rutgar bellowed back.
Julie blanched and Duke stirred, pushing against Nate’s shoulder. He surveyed his surroundings. His chin jutted forward the way Julie’s did when she got upset and his lower lip began to tremble.
“Can we keep things civil?” Terrance leaned forward to connect his gaze with Doris, who dialed back her tension, and then swiveled his gaze to Rutgar, who crossed his arms and harrumphed.
Nate resumed pacing, trying to reassure Duke in a whisper that everything would be okay. But Duke was having none of it. The precursor to the toddler’s breakdown came in the form of a wail worthy of the siren on the town’s fire truck.
“The question is your reason for running for office.” Mayor Larry tried to keep up the pretext of normal, but he had to raise his voice to be heard.
Duke began to sob.
“I...” Julie hesitated, glancing at Duke. She passed a hand over her shoulder and then raised her voice. “My father was in law enforcement. Fighting crime is in my blood.”
“Sheriff?” Mayor Larry turned to Nate. “Same question.”
“I’m here to protect and serve.” Nate used his deep voice to project his answer over Duke’s sobs. “That includes enforcing the law, settling minor disputes and volunteering to help people like Wilson Hammacker when he needed a ramp built to his front door because his toes were amputated. I’m honored to be a part of this community. I really am, but I’m sorry, folks. That’s all I’ve got to say tonight.” Nate walked toward the door. “It’s past my son’s bedtime.”
Doris’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly recovered. “That’s right. Go, Sheriff. We’ll just ask my candidate more questions.”
But Julie was following Nate out.
“Julie,” Doris hissed.
“Well, I guess this forum is over.” Mayor Larry sounded relieved as he closed out the meeting. “We’ll gather again tomorrow to see how each candidate conducts a traffic stop, and then the day after for the shoot off at the winery. We’ll watch from the road just as we did when the barn was brought down. Bring your binoculars.”
Nate held the door forJulie. “We’re not shooting.”
“You’re afraid she’ll win,” Leona said, sitting in the back pew, fingering the pearls at her neck. “Strong women often scare men away.”
Julie slipped out and Nate turned his back on Leona to do the same.
He wasn’t afraid of losing. He was afraid Julie wasn’t ready to shoot again—not physically, not emotionally.
And not against him.
Julie wasn’t a quitter.
But Julie wanted to quit the sheriff’s race.
The debate had been a disaster. She was lucky they hadn’t asked her any hard questions, because she hadn’t considered what it took to be a good sheriff. Not that anyone in Harmony Valley besides Doris wanted her to be sheriff. Terrance was right. No one knew her well enough. She’d stepped into this mess in a moment of weakness and now she was stuck. Because Julie wasn’t a quitter.
She lay in Nate’s bed watching the moon rise through the window and rubbing her thumb over the worry stone. As soon as Nate returned, she’d move to the recliner to sleep. Duke had passed out long ago on the bed. Since they’d come to Harmony Valley, Duke was sleeping better, perhaps because he wasn’t getting any naps, perhaps because they were always on the go.
She heard Nate come in from his evening rounds. She could tell it was him from the slow, steady pace of his steps.
From the moment he’d learned she was running for sheriff, he hadn’t treated her any differently. Julie couldn’t say she would’ve done the same. She’d have been defending her turf vehemently. Nate was steady, like the old oak tree in the town square. She’d been wound up tight, but just hearing Nate come in relaxed her. She should move to the recliner. And she would. In a minute.
Her eyes closed and…
Something heavy dropped over her legs.
Chained! She was chained!
Julie bolted upright, hands fisted, prepared to fight. Her heart pounded. Her stitches throbbed.
Without waking up, Duke had rolled on her legs.
Julie froze. She could have kicked him. She could have swung a fist. She could have hurt April’s precious little boy. Her pulse raced but couldn’t outrace fear.
Nate. She needed Nate.
She eased her feet free and padded to the open door leading to the stairs, taking the steps slowly and on tiptoe. She’d just look to see if Nate was still awake. If he wasn’t, she’d return to the apartment and try to sleep in the recliner.
“You don’t have to sneak down,” Nate said softly. “I’m up.”
The blinds on the plate glass window were down, but open, illuminating the room with light from the street.
“Bad dream?” Nate’s voice came from the jail cell. It was magnetic, that voice.
Julie drifted to the cell door, anchoring herself by gripping a cool bar lest she drift further and closer to his cot.
When she didn’t say anything, Nate sat up. “Are you okay?”
In the golden light, there were no hard angles to Nate’s face, no tight half smile, no distance in his eyes.
“People don’t like you,” she blurted when what she really wanted to say was, “Hold me.”
“Are you including yourself in that statement?” he asked in a guarded tone.
She didn’t think she was. The light from the window wasn’t illuminating enough. She couldn’t see his face. She leaned forward, still holding the bar.
“Was that what kept you awake?” His words navigated the chasm between them carefully. “Thinking about my dislike rating?”
“People in town who don’t even know me claim to like me.” She wasn’t used to being a pawn.
“And that’s what’s keeping you awake.”
Since he hadn’t phrased his response as a query, she didn’t answer him with a correction.
Nate leaned back against the wall. “When I was a kid...before I turned eight...I saw the world differently. I trusted everyone. I believed what they told me about Santa Claus.”
Duke had noticed Santa painted on an empty storefront across the street. The jolly old man was cracked and faded, but his smile still had the power to charm a toddler.
Julie gripped the cool metal tighter, because she suspected Nate’s experience with Santa wasn’t as golden as hers had been or even the one she hoped to provide to Duke.
“My faith in Mr. Claus was one-dimensional, because that’s all you can handle as a kid. He was a magical man bringing me toys. At least sometimes.” Nate tilted his head toward the ceiling. “Then I learned that Santa wasn’t real, that it was my mom. And I felt betrayed. Lied to. At least until I was mature enough to realize she’d done it out of love.” He paused, as if that was the important message he wanted to give.
Julie breathed easier. That hadn’t been a devastating revelation.
But he kept talking. “The sheriff’s race isn’t keeping you up. You’re still feeling betrayed by the law enforcement system and feeling guilty for pulling the trigger.”
Her breath caught. She didn’t want to have this conversation. And yet, she was afraid she’d be avoiding the topic until the day she died if she didn’t bring it out in the open now.
“Since the day I met you, you’ve been trying to prove you can fit in as a cop.” Nate angled his head her way. How she wished she could see every nuance in his expression. “You did what you were trained to do—protect others. You don’t have to prove anything else to anyone.”
Julie knew he was right. She knew she’d crossed a bridge the night she had ended a life. She just hadn’t known how costly the toll would be. “The drive to be a cop is gone.” She hadn’t realized that either. Her legs gave out and she sank to the cold floor. “I can’t go back.” Not to SWAT. Not to the police force. Not even to being sheriff of Harmony Valley. “I can’t be a cop anymore and… I think my dad would be crushed.”
Nate was next to Julie on the floor before she drew her next breath, gathering her in his arms. “You’re wrong. He’d be proud of you no matter what career you chose.”
“Would he?” She’d wondered about that, too. “I killed a woman. A mother. Someone’s daughter.” A defeated sound escaped her throat. “She was carrying a gun and...her baby and...wearing a heart pendant, like the one I got April for Mother’s Day.”
Nate’s arms were strong and steadfast around Julie. He wasn’t letting her go.
She didn’t want him to.
“Jules, could you have lived with yourself any easier if you hadn’t pulled the trigger? If she’d killed those innocent kids of hers? Or if someone in your unit had died because you’d drawn a picture in your head of what bad looks like and she didn’t fit?”
“No.” She’d have felt worse.
“Then you have to let that dark cloud over your head go.” His hold on her lessened, only for a moment, so briefly she almost imagined it. “In the cold light of day, you’ll eventually figure out if you want to stay a cop or not. Or stay in Harmony Valley or not.”
He was right about all this, too. She took a few deep breaths, but she still held on to him. She held on and she began to wish she didn’t have to ask Nate a question for the Daddy Test tomorrow.