“By you.” Doris scoffed.
The mayor tilted his head down and stared at Doris over the rim of his rectangular readers. “Written by the town council over seventy years ago.”
“Hi!” Duke shouted, completely stealing the limelight and bringing some much-needed laughter to the proceedings.
Doris spun, so upset at being upstaged her short hair seemed to tilt forward and take aim at the upstager.
The few residents not enamored of little Duke straightened and quieted like school children caught misbehaving. The rest kept on smiling and scrunching their faces in funny ways designed to encourage the boy, not calm him down. He really was a cute kid. Not even Doris was immune to his charms. Her expression seemed to soften.
“We should wrap this up so we can all meet that adorable young man in the back.” Agnes spoke into the microphone. “These are all good points, Doris. Therefore...” Agnes waited until Doris faced her again. “I move we hold a sheriff’s election as soon as possible. Say...this week, so as not to hinder our Spring Festival plans.”
Voices disappeared beneath a rush of sound, as if Nate was passing a semitruck on the highway with his windows down. His position was an inconvenience to the Spring Festival? His livelihood? His future?
The assembled were just as shocked as Nate. The church had fallen into a stunned silence. There wasn’t so much as a peep from Doris or Duke.
During the lull, Agnes elbowed Rose.
“Uh...” Rose looked as confused as Nate felt.
Mildred, who had a slight resemblance to Mrs. Claus, pushed her thick lenses higher up her nose and sighed. “I suppose... I second?”
Anticipating peace, the mayor beamed at the council. “All in favor?”
All three town councilwomen said, “Aye.”
“Motion passed.” The mayor closed out the meeting.
“An election?” Nate’s plain and simple world was suddenly not so plain and simple.
“Don’t sweat it.” Flynn stared down at Ian with a whole lotta love in his eyes. “You signed a new contract and you’re the only qualified candidate in town. In a week, you’ll win by a landslide.”
Nate’s future was out of his control. He didn’t think he’d sleep for a week.
“I Duke.” The little dude gripped Nate’s shoulder.
The woman’s hands drew him back.
“Juju,” the boy scolded.
In the past eighteen months or so, there’d been an influx of younger residents to Harmony Valley and a baby boom. Nate turned more fully in his seat to see who held his new friend.
Familiar gray eyes collided with his.
The storm cloud returned. And flashed with lightning.
* * *
“HELLO, NATE.” JULIE SMITH put nearly three years of disdain and disappointment in those two words.
“Julie.” Nate shot to his feet, steady as always, guarded as always. If Nate was the sheriff, he was off duty. He wore a brown checkered shirt and blue jeans, not a service uniform.
Duke was balanced on her thighs, his small hard-soled sneakers digging in for purchase as he reached for Nate once more.
Couldn’t Duke loathe Nate as much as Julie did?
Couldn’t Nate look as if the past few years had been one big heartbreak?
No on both counts.
Duke’s fingers flexed as he reached for Nate.
And Nate? It was annoying how good he looked. His black hair might have been in need of a trim and his chin shadowed with stubble, but his teeth hadn’t fallen out, his broad shoulders weren’t bullet ridden and, worst of all, he didn’t look sleep deprived.
The mayor and town council were still on the pulpit surrounded by animated residents with loud voices. Chaos had arrived in Harmony Valley, just not the way Julie had envisioned it.
The man next to Nate came to his feet. He wore a wedding ring, held a swaddled newborn, had spit-up on the shoulder of his yellow polo and New Dad bags under his eyes.
Julie gave him a sympathetic smile. Duke despised naps and could be a restless sleeper at night. Not as restless as Julie lately, but still...
The man with the baby cleared his throat, shaking Nate out of tall, dark and stunned mode.
“Flynn,” Nate said. “This is Julie, my...”
And there it was. That awkwardness Julie had been waiting years for.
She pounced. “I’m the sister of Nate’s ex-fiancée.”
Flynn slid a questioning look Nate’s way.
Her moment had arrived. Julie stood, scooping Duke to her hip with her left arm. “Didn’t Nate tell you he was engaged? He left my sister at the altar.” That wasn’t all he’d left, but Julie didn’t want to waste all her ammunition on the first volley.
Flynn didn’t look as shocked as she’d hoped. She blamed Nate. He inspired loyalty wherever he went. Even after being dumped, April had forbidden Julie to confront him. But that ban had been lifted. It was open season on the sheriff.
Duke toppled forward, letting his full weight drop between Julie and Nate, unexpectedly shifting Julie’s center of gravity. She slurped in air like it came through a clogged milk shake straw. The stitches beneath her right collarbone pulled sharply, tugging at nerves that quivered up and down her neck and shoulder.
Mom was right. The doctor was right. It was too soon.
And too late to back out now.
Julie drew on years of resentment, drew Duke back and drew down her chin against the pain. She was here for justice. She was here to make Nate suffer. Surely that wouldn’t take long.
Nate hadn’t been shamed by her announcement that he’d backed out of a wedding. He didn’t scowl or frown. He didn’t put his hands on his hips and try to stare her down. She’d forgotten he was a man of few words.
Julie was itching for words. Fighting words. “My sister, April, defeated cancer and the idea that it might return gave Nate cold feet.” She glared at Nate, daring him to contradict her.
“Not exactly,” Nate said in a gruff voice, not riled enough to fully engage in battle.
“What a pleasure to see a new babe in our neck of the woods.” It was the miniature old lady from the town council, the one with the relaxed pixie-cut silver hair. She bestowed Duke and Julie with a friendly smile, and then gave Nate the kind of smile grandmothers bestowed on favored grandkids before turning to Flynn. “Can the council borrow you for an assignment?”
Flynn accepted the job and edged past Nate, who was staring at the ceiling as if searching for divine intervention.
Julie hoped April wasn’t smiling down on him. Her younger sister had always been the forgiving type.
“Who is this adorable young man?” An overly wrinkled woman with unnaturally black hair and a severe widow’s peak stood behind Julie and ruffled Duke’s hair.
“I Duke,” Julie’s nephew repeated, thrusting his shoulders back. He loved attention.
“More important, who are you?” A pale elderly woman wheeled an oxygen tank to Julie’s pew and adjusted the cannula in her nose.
“Oh, heavens, no. The important question is are you here to stay?” This from a rotund gentleman waggling a smile and bushy white brows.
At least ten elderly folk clustered around Julie’s pew, clogging the aisle. They leaned on walkers and canes and the pew itself, waiting for Julie’s answer.
“Is this how we treat visitors to Harmony Valley?” Nate asked them in a voice infused with patience.
For a moment, no one answered. And then someone said, “Yes,” which made the group laugh.
“Her name is Julie,” Nate said, still in patience mode. “And you can ask her questions some other time. Now, does everyone have a ride home?”
They dutifully nodded and pointed to their rides, or volunteered to take others home.
&nb
sp; Amid the subsequent shuffle toward the door, Julie studied Nate some more, trying to figure out how he won everyone over.
He had that ramrod-stiff posture that signified confidence and a history of military service. His black hair was parted to the side where a cowlick prevented the hair over his forehead from lying flat. His brown eyes were serious more often than not, and when others were grinning he only allowed a half smile. He was bottled up and wound tight, keeping his emotions close to his chest. Even after he’d met April.
Which was weird. Everyone had loved April. She handed out smiles the way sample ladies handed out free food at Costco. She’d been the kid least likely to get in a fight and most likely to shed tears over sappy television commercials. She’d grown up to be a kindergarten teacher, of course. And she’d taught dance and tumbling to little ones for the recreation department. She was the opposite of Nate, who’d been a sniper in the Middle East, and Julie, who was now a sniper on Sacramento’s SWAT team.
Julie eased her aching shoulder back, ignoring the growing feeling of exhaustion. She nodded toward the podium. “Stirring up trouble, I see.”
“Trouble’s always had a way of finding me,” Nate said with a half smile.
Julie’s aim was off. Nothing was ruffling him. Nothing was satisfying her need for revenge. She’d have to hunker down for the long haul. She’d never been good at the long game, at chess or Monopoly. This time, the stakes were higher than bragging rights or a pile of paper money. This time, she had to be patient.
“Want Mama.” Duke collapsed against Julie’s shoulder, his forehead pile-driving into the only tender spot on her body.
Her sharp intake of breath caused Nate to dip his head and stare at her more closely. She smoothed her expression into her game face, determined that he only see what she wanted him to see—a strong woman who despised him.
“You got married.” Nate’s gaze was gentle.
She didn’t want his gentleness. She wanted his anger. She wanted to argue and shout and have him argue and shout back. “You think I’m married because...”
A small crease appeared between Nate’s brows, only for a moment. “Well...this little guy...”
A surge of satisfaction shored up sagging dreams of revenge. “You think a woman has to be married to have a child?”
The crease returned, deeper this time. “You’re a cop. Female cops don’t—”
“You’re a police officer?” asked the woman who’d been putting up a stink at the podium. She’d stopped at Julie’s pew. Doris didn’t smile. She didn’t coo over Duke. She eyed the pair like a cattle rancher at a bull auction.
Julie didn’t put much stock in the woman’s claims. Nate was many things, but he was a good cop. And Julie wasn’t keen on being sized up. But she wasn’t here to cause a ruckus about it either, so she said, “Yes, ma’am,” and ground her teeth at the interruption in her attempted takedown of Nate the Unflappable.
The woman stored that information with a brisk nod, and then moved toward the door.
“Mama.” Duke crooned softly.
Nate glanced around, perhaps catching on to where this was going, perhaps assessing how much privacy they had. Or how much they’d need.
The more public his humiliation, the better.
“I’m not married.” Julie’s smile felt the way it did when guys on the force made a crude remark and deserved reproach. “And Duke isn’t my child.”
CHAPTER TWO
AND DUKE ISN’T my child.
The bottom dropped out of Nate’s world and his stomach plunged to the center of the earth.
“Who...” He washed a hand over his face and planted his feet more firmly on the church planks. “Whose child is he?”
“Look at him.”
Nate had been looking at Julie, at the delicate lines of her face and the stubborn tilt to her chin. She’d dressed as if she was prepared for a SWAT maneuver—a long-sleeved dark blue utility shirt, belted black utility pants and sturdy boots. But she held a toddler.
She should have been wearing faded blue jeans and a soft T-shirt. Her blond hair should have had bounce, not hung limply to her shoulders. The skin on her face should have glowed, not been washed-out. And the bags under her eyes... Had she spent too many nights on duty?
“Look at him,” Julie commanded.
Nate obeyed.
A roaring filled his ears. His heart began to thump faster than it had at the sight of Julie.
The little boy had the Smiths’ gray eyes and wide smiling mouth. Like most kids his age, he had thin, lanky legs. His sprouted from a pair of khaki shorts. The friendly sparkle to his eyes was all Smith. But the dark, unruly hair was hard to mistake as anything other than a Landry gift. And as for those ears...
Nate tugged one of his own.
The kid would grow into them.
The kid. His kid.
Nate felt as if he’d been shoved from behind, a blow that threatened to topple him. The only things holding him upright were the curled toes in his boots.
“You’re saying he’s mine,” he whispered.
“I’m saying he’s April’s.” If Julie had been born a man, she’d have been a fighter. Her chin jutted, daring him to take a swing, to pick a fight, to defend himself for leaving April at the altar when she’d obviously been pregnant with his child.
Take a swing? He could barely draw a breath. “How old are you, Duke?”
The boy—his son!—held up two fingers.
Nate breathed in. Breathed out. Fought a torrent of emotion—guilt, joy, anger—that further weakened his knees.
The guilt... Guilt was familiar. It rode in his back pocket every day, like his wallet. He had a past, one not suited to fatherhood. Then joy... Joy was a rare emotion for him. It tried to dance through his veins with the virility of being a father. But he wasn’t a dancer. And the anger... It was anger that plowed past guilt and joy. Anger that marched behind his eyes with pounding steps, prickled his skin and straightened his backbone. “The chemo sent April into early menopause. The doctor said she’d never have children.” The doctor had said no birth control was necessary.
“A miracle.” So smug. Julie had been waiting for this.
“It’s been three years.” News of miracles usually traveled faster than that.
Every step he’d taken. Every vow he’d made. Nate set his feet in a wider stance, straddling the abyss filled with shattered expectations. It was all he could do not to shout, not to shake the back of the pew, not to reject fatherhood because he’d never aspired to the job. “Where’s April? Why didn’t she say anything?”
“April didn’t want you to know until...” Julie’s jaw clenched and for the first time since he’d turned around, there was a crack in her bravado. “April passed away three months ago.”
Nate’s heart plunged to the floor and into the tilting abyss that had sucked normal from his world. No one had told him that either. And by no one, he meant Julie. “I’m sorry about April.” She’d been in remission on their wedding day. “Was it—”
“Yes, a brain tumor. Yes, cancer. She...” Julie swallowed, squeezing his son as if the boy was a beloved teddy bear. “It wasn’t easy.”
But she’d been there. Of that, Nate was certain. While he...he hadn’t been. Not for April. Not for Julie. Not for his son, who’d asked for his mother a few minutes ago.
Nate washed a hand over his face again, staring at Duke. “You should’ve told me. April should’ve told me.”
“Why are you so upset? You always said you didn’t want kids.” The fight was back in Julie’s tone and the flash in her gray eyes. “Besides, you lost the right of parenthood when you jilted April.”
Nate’s hands fisted at his sides. “A man has a right to know.”
“Why? You said you don’t want—”
/> “No mad words.” Duke put his small hand over Julie’s mouth.
Nate and Julie’s gazes locked.
No mad words.
It was something April used to say when Julie’s good-natured bickering with anyone turned into hot debates.
Nate shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Why are you here? Why did you come? Why now?”
Julie’s mouth formed the kind of hard line that made speeders like Doris sweat. “April wanted you to have custody, but I have the right to challenge if I can prove you’re unfit to be his father, which is where the Daddy Test comes in.”
A test. One he didn’t have to pass. Nate should feel relief. He should thank Julie for the information, reiterate his position about children and tell her to keep his son safe. He’d send monthly checks for Duke’s care, for birthdays and holidays. In the once-bumpy road that was his life, this could be smoothed over with the right words.
The right words didn’t come to mind. Nate leaned forward, hands gripping the back of the pew. “My parental rights won’t be judged by a bitter sister-in-law.”
“I was never your sister-in-law.” She turned slightly, putting herself between father and son. “And I have every right to judge you. You were my friend. I trusted you with my sister’s heart.”
He wanted to say that was her mistake, but it hadn’t been. It’d been his.
He and Julie had been in the same class at the police academy and had been hired by the same police force. She was attractive and smart, but off-limits since they were both focused on their careers. Besides, a woman like Julie would want to have kids and Nate had sworn the opposite. They’d hung out off duty with a group of law enforcement friends. She had a formidable presence and had become a cop because her father was a fallen highway patrolman. She put 100 percent into everything she did, whether it was a game of poker or pulling over a speeder. He liked that she did what was right and stood behind her decisions.
And then one day he’d been at a backyard barbecue with a bunch of their friends. He’d heard Julie laugh. He’d looked up to find Julie towing a delicate blonde across the lawn to meet him. “This is my sister, April. I made you two dinner reservations at a restaurant on the river. Don’t argue.”
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