Chapter Seventeen
“Welcome to the second night of sheriff-election activities.” This time, Mayor Larry had positioned his podium next to the town council so that he faced both candidates and the voters. He wore a lime-green tie-dyed T-shirt which reminded Nate of margaritas.
A margarita would hit the spot about now.
The empty chair between Julie and Nate served as the pretend vehicle they’d be pulling over. Duke sat in Julie’s lap once more, staring out at the assembled with tired eyes. Some of the women sat on Nate’s side, which was heartening. The crowd in the church was a bit rowdier this evening, anticipating quite the show.
“The goal for tonight’s exhibition is to see how each candidate performs under stress.” Mayor Larry winked at Nate. “There will be no interruptions.” He gave Julie’s campaign manager a stern look. “Doris, that means no objections, no heckling and no offering advice, or you will be removed. This is serious.”
Nate couldn’t resist a commiserating glance toward Julie. Serious? Not hardly.
Julie didn’t look his way. In fact, she’d avoided Nate all day long.
“Here are the rules for tonight’s exhibition.” The mayor referred to a sheet of paper. “Turns out the two volunteers chosen to participate have been pulled over in the past. I’m going to read the scenario that led up to them being pulled over, and then I’ll hand it over to each candidate.” The mayor set his notes down. “We flipped a coin, and the sheriff will go first. Our volunteer is Lilac.”
Lilac had dressed for the part in the show. She wore her Sunday best—a flouncy, flowery yellow dress, low white heels and a blue scarf she’d tied over her short gray hair as if she was driving the Cadillac with the top down. She hurried toward the empty chair on stage the same way Nate had seen her cut in line at the Harvest Festival last fall—nose in the air, looking neither left nor right.
Nate knew trouble when it was brewing. Lilac was so concerned with appearances she didn’t see the step ahead of her. He leaped up and caught her arm as she tripped.
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Lilac rarely blushed, but her cheeks were rosy now. “You’re always such a gentleman.”
“Oh, Lilac,” Doris muttered.
The assembled on both sides of the aisle laughed.
Nate escorted Lilac to the chair in the middle of the dais. She sat, smoothed her skirts, and then held her hands up as if gripping a steering wheel.
“Lilac was pulled over for speeding and reckless driving,” Mayor Larry told the crowd. “Take it away, Sheriff.”
“Don’t forget she also had a hit-and-run.” Nate probably shouldn’t have added that to her list of infractions, but it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. Lilac took her public image very seriously and, like Doris, always denied any wrongdoing.
Lilac sniffed. “I take back the part about you always being a gentleman.”
“And...take it away, Sheriff,” Mayor Larry said again, brows waggling with uncertainty.
Nate took pity on him and got the show on the road. “Let’s pretend that you’ve pulled to the curb, and I’ve shown up at your window.”
Lilac tossed both ends of her scarf over her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
Nate stood next to her, facing the same way—to the audience. “License and registration, please.”
Lilac handed him the imaginary items. “Is there a problem, Sheriff?”
“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going through town?”
“Of course not.” Lilac swiveled her head and her shoulders toward him. “I never look down. I simply get from here to there.”
He was grateful she was playing this true to form. It made his job a lot easier. “You were going fifty in a twenty-five.”
Someone on the female side of the audience gasped, as if this was news to her.
To his left, Julie frowned, because it was news to her, too.
And Lilac?
Lilac paused, glancing at Doris. Color crept back into Lilac’s cheeks. “Your radar gun must be off. I mean... I...I haven’t been in an accident yet.”
“Maybe not an accident with another car, but you hit a dog on the east side of the town square.”
There were murmurs of disapproval in the crowd. Folks were clearly agitated. Flynn sat in the front row, holding Ian and looking stern. It’d been his nephew’s dog.
Lilac had never been subject to public scrutiny before. She squirmed. “Well, the dog didn’t die.” And she’d eventually paid the vet bills. But she hadn’t slowed down since.
“And you nearly killed Chad Healy when he volunteered his time to clear branches from a public street after a big storm.”
“Missed me by that much,” Chad said from his seat behind Flynn, holding up his thumb and forefinger.
“And you drove away,” Nate paused for effect. “Almost as if you didn’t see him.”
“She needs glasses.” Wearing a lime green track suit, Eunice got up from her aisle seat on Julie’s side and took a seat on Nate’s side of the church, as did a few other women. “She always was vain about her appearance.”
There was the pot calling the kettle black.
Lilac slumped in her faux driver’s seat.
“I knew I should’ve been our volunteer.” Doris crossed her arms and glared at everyone.
“Let me remind residents about the rules.” Mayor Larry put a finger to his lips. “Shhh.”
Nate pretended to flip open his ticket book. “You’ll be receiving three tickets today, which will put your license at risk of revocation unless you go before a judge to plead your case, or you sign up for traffic school.”
“Traffic school?” Lilac was as indignant now as she’d been for any of her tickets.
Duke appeared at Nate’s side. He pointed to Lilac. “Time-out?”
The audience laughed.
“Yes.” Nate scooped his son into his arms. “Lilac gets a time-out.”
Nate was going to be hard to beat.
He’d handled Lilac with humor and sensitivity.
If Julie pulled over a driver who’d hit a dog and nearly run over a man—and then driven off—she’d have very little respect or patience for them. Not that she gave speeders a chance to talk their way out of tickets. In fact, she’d never let anyone off. She’d had one of the highest ticket rates in the department before she transferred to SWAT.
“And now for our second driver,” the mayor was saying. “Prescott Driscoll.”
There was a murmur in the crowd. Pews creaked as people twisted in their seats to look.
A man near the back of the church stood and made his way to the front. He was tall and slender, wearing cowboy boots, jeans, a tan chambray shirt and a black leather vest. His sparse gray hair was long and thin, and fell over his equally long and thin face. His footsteps rang in the church ominously.
Julie glanced at Nate, who held Duke in his lap. He was looking at the approaching volunteer with something like regret in his eyes. Who had he chosen for her?
Prescott plunked himself heavily in the driver’s seat, shifted sideways as if leaning on a car door and held the imaginary steering wheel with one hand. “Ready.”
“Prescott was pulled over for drunk driving,” the mayor said.
Drunk driving. The goal of the stop was clear to her. Julie needed just cause to check Prescott’s blood alcohol level.
Julie slipped on her mirrored sunglasses she’d brought and came to stand next to Prescott the way Nate had done with Lilac. Except Julie kept a hand at her hip where her weapon would be in a live situation.
But before she could ask Prescott if he knew why he’d been pulled over, he began talking, enunciating as clearly as if he was performing a play. “How are you tonight, Officer?” He glanced up at her with a smile that had decades of charm behind it. “You’re looking mighty fine.”
“I’m feeling mighty fine.” Julie went with the flow. But… Was that alcohol on his breath? Had he shown up drunk to a simulation of a drunk driving incident? “How are you feeling, sir?”
“I’m so good, I feel like dancing.” He got out of the pretend car and did a dance that was part tap, part line dance and part disco.
The audience applauded.
Julie flushed with the heat of embarrassment. “Sir, you need to stop.” She held up one hand, keeping the other on her imaginary gun.
“Is she going to shoot him?” a woman asked in a concerned voice.
“I suppose you want to give me your tests.” Prescott clapped once, and then rubbed his hands together. “I’m ready. Give it your best shot.”
Julie glared at Nate. “This is not how he acted when you pulled him over.”
“It is.” Nate’s mouth slanted toward an apologetic half grin.
It was too late for apologies. Julie was going to make a fool of herself.
“Welcome to Harmony Valley,” someone in the audience said.
Julie had been in tough situations before with the odds stacked against her. She eased her shoulders back and pushed her sunglasses up her nose. She proceeded to put the old man through his paces. Arms out to the side, alternating touching a finger to his nose. The man didn’t so much as wobble. She asked him to recite the alphabet backward. He sang it as ordered, quickly, as if he’d had a lot of practice.
“Wow,” Julie said to Prescott, honestly impressed. “I’ve never actually seen anyone do that.”
Doris was practically convulsing with anger in the front row, pressing her lips together in a disapproving flat line.
“I’m ready to walk the line.” Prescott slapped a hand against his thigh as if keeping time to a beat only he could hear. “Five, six, seven, eight.” He started down an imaginary line. “Step-bump. Step-bump-bump.” He swayed his hips to the side on every bump and yet he kept walking in a straight fashion. “Step-bump. Step-bump-bump.” He reached the end of the altar, pivoted on his toes and returned the way he’d come.
The crowd hooted and cheered.
Julie’s cheeks were hot. She was going to fail the simulation. She’d lost control of the traffic stop. Prescott had given her no reason to administer a Breathalyzer test. She hated losing, but she’d be graceful in defeat. “Well, sir. I’ve got to admit it. You’re a good dancer.”
Prescott turned to face her, that charming grin splitting his face. “I’m a good drunk, too. I’m drunk now.”
“Aha! I got you.” Julie raised her arms as if she were a referee calling a touchdown. His admission meant she could legally collect his blood alcohol level. She faced Nate. “I did it!”
Nate smiled at Julie the way he’d smiled at Duke the other day in the bakery.
Julie’s heart bump-bumped.
“You did.” Prescott leaned closer, washing her in alcohol breath. “Take me in.” He turned to the audience at their thunderous applause and took a bow.
Duke slid off Nate’s lap and came to stand next to Julie. He took a bow, too.
Prescott grabbed Julie by her injured shoulder and gave her a bear hug.
Julie’s breath caught in her throat as pain sliced through her. Her knees buckled.
And then Prescott was ripped away, leaving Julie staggering for balance.
“Never touch an officer of the law without permission.” Nate escorted Prescott to the back of the church, holding the man’s arm. “Do you need a ride home?”
“Nope. I walked.” Prescott was unfazed by Nate’s reprimand and his removal from the stage. “I walk everywhere now.”
The audience had grown silent.
Nate returned to the front, boots echoing on hardwood.
“Well,” the mayor looked as surprised as everyone else. “That concludes our demonstration. We’d like to thank our candidates and volunteers. Tomorrow, the shooting competition will be held at ten o’clock at the winery.”
A subdued crowd began to break up. Pieces of conversation drifted to Julie over the creaking of pews and sound of feet on wood floor.
“Did you see how fast the sheriff moved?”
“I never realized how even-tempered the sheriff was. She was getting angry.”
“Even when she wins, we lose.” Doris tossed her hands and walked out.
“She did fine.” Nate swung Duke into his arms.
Julie’s skin tingled as if she’d been shocked. She didn’t often lose or get outmaneuvered. Her knees locked in place. “You chose Prescott.” He’d chosen someone who’d humiliate her.
“Hold that thought until we get home.” Nate swung Duke into his arms and walked out, leaving Julie no choice but to follow. He waited until they’d crossed the town square and were alone on the sidewalk approaching the sheriff’s office before saying anything more. “Someone else suggested Prescott. I could have picked anyone in that church tonight. They’re all of the same caliber.”
“Soused?” Julie hadn’t brought a jacket. The breeze had a chill and it reached to her bones. Or maybe it was how Nate had tried to sabotage her.
“I mean, they all have unusual characters. Like Prescott. He was a dancer in the chorus of community theater in San Francisco.” Nate scanned his surroundings as they walked, tucking Duke’s head on his shoulder. “They’re all argumentative. And innocent in their own minds. Plus, many of them are so independent they refuse to acknowledge they’re getting older and are less capable of doing everyday tasks, like driving. Two-thirds of the population is over the age of sixty-five. It’s not so much about preventing crime as protecting these people from harming themselves or others.”
Julie had to stop herself from saying she had no interest in working in a retirement home, because she didn’t want to argue and she didn’t want Nate’s stupid, stupid job.
Maybe if I tell myself that often enough, I’d stop being so sensitive about these stupid, stupid events.
“You’ll look back on this and smile one day,” Nate teased. He even threw her a bone—a half smile.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll tell my grandkids about the day I pulled over a drunk and he nearly danced his way to freedom.” When she put it like that, it didn’t sound like such a dastardly deed.
“See? It stings less already.” Nate opened the station door for her, Duke asleep on his shoulder.
The sheriff’s office was unlocked? How could a town like this even exist?
Julie led the way upstairs, aware of Nate behind her, of her morning intentions to co-parent, of this feeling that more than her temper was out of whack.
Theywere out of whack and had been for…
Julie couldn’t pinpoint when.
“Tomorrow we should call off the competition,” Nate said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You aren’t ready to shoot, much less shoot a rifle that recoils.”
Couldn’t he show some faith in her? “I can push through.” They’d probably only fire a handful of shots.
Nate caught up to her at the second-floor landing, pleasantly crowding into Julie’s space as she struggled with the door to his apartment. “What if you freeze in front of all those people? What if the recoil reopens your wound?” His concern should have made her less jittery, not more so.
“Dr. Landry, I’ll be fine,” Julie reassured him, finally getting the doorknob to turn. She took Duke from him. “I don’t want to talk about this now.” She didn’t want to talk about her weaknesses, physical or otherwise. Honestly, she didn’t want to talk at all.
Nate walked past her to drop his cell phone on the charger. “Then we’ll talk about it again tomorrow morning in time for me to call it off.”
Julie let him think what he would.
From the kitchen table Nate watched her put Duke to bed. His regard should have been unnerving or make her feel self-conscious. It didn’t. His gaze was relaxed and open.
She came to stand next to the table, staring into Nate’s dark eyes. He understood this town in a way she didn’t. He’d noticed the kittens being abandoned. He knew just how to handle the residents. And himself.
But he doesn’t know how to handle me.
Julie took Nate by the hand and slowly pulled him to his feet. She led him downstairs and sat on the bottom step of the sheriff’s office, tugging him to join her. Nate was warm next to her. She leaned into that warmth without intending to, lacing their fingers together. “You belong here. And so does Duke. Shared custody. No arguments. I get him on weekends.”
Nate didn’t argue. He seemed preoccupied with their joined hands, which made her preoccupied with their joined hands.
She’d forgotten how their fingers fit together perfectly. That fit. His warmth. Her sigh. They were comfortable together. She could almost forget who they were and where they’d been and sit here in limbo forever.
Well, maybe not forever. She’d never been good at sitting still and keeping silent. “I admit, I’m a little envious of your life here. I’ve always had to bang down the door to belong.”
“You never had to prove anything to me.” His voice had the gruff quality of a man who was unsure of himself.
Because of Julie? Because she held his hand?
She gripped it tighter. “I’ve had to prove myself to you most of all.”
“Why?” Nate looked at her out of the corner of his eye.
It struck her then. It struck her square in the face.
I want to kiss Nate.
Using her free hand, Julie turned Nate’s face to hers. Stubble scraped her palm. “Why do I feel the need to prove myself to you? I never thought about it before. But I think it has something to do with this.” And then she followed her instincts and kissed him.
Nate didn’t fall back against the wall and demand to know what she was doing.
Nate didn’t push her away.
Nate didn’t do anything, except...kiss her back.
Oh…
Oh, yes…
His arms gathered her close, being careful of her shoulder and the awkwardness of being on the stairs. He was always so kind, so thoughtful of others. He must have recognized the spark between them these past few days. He must have fought it the same way she had. She pressed closer, feeling less alone, less unsure of the future.
“Jules,” Nate murmured against her lips.
She leaned back and looked deep into his eyes, searching for a mirror of the feeling that threatened to overwhelm her—that this was the right place and the right time and the right person. She should be thinking of April. She should be thinking Nate was off-limits. She couldn’t think beyond the feeling that there was a reason their hands fit together so well. And then Julie remembered she was the reason Nate refused to share custody with Duke. “I should drop out of the race.”
“No.” His hand rested on her hip.
“But you don’t want me to shoot tomorrow.”
“That’s right.”
“And you don’t want me to win.”
“That’s right.” There was that relaxed partial smile, the one he gave those he was fond of in town.
He cares for me, just as Terrance said.
Her heart beat erratically. Julie reminded herself to breathe. “But you don’t want me to drop out.”
“That’s right.”
Outside, an owl hooted. In the distance, a car honked.
“I don’t get it,” Julie said mildly, content to be confused if she was in his arms. “What’s the point of staying in the race if I’m not shooting?”
Nate stared at her so long Julie thought he wasn’t going to answer. And then he said, “You’d leave. You already tossed out the Daddy Test. Why would you stay if you weren’t running for sheriff?”
I’d stay for you.
“You are the most infuriating man alive.” Nate didn’t want her to leave! Julie was tempted to jump up and do a dance inspired by Prescott. And she might have done so if Nate’s arms weren’t encircling her.
She slid her hands around his neck. “Kiss me again.”