“That means I caused...” Julie broke free of Nate’s hold, horror etched on her face with pale, ghostly lines. “After you left, she told Mom and me...” Her voice was barely a whisper. “And then she turned away. April turned away and... Oh, no.” Julie’s voice was as taut and off-key as a misplayed violin. “She didn’t want to see me. In those days afterward...April didn’t want to see me.” Julie took a step back, and then another. “I’ve never put myself ahead of my sister.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her hand went to her mouth and she made a sound like a stifled sob. “I hate you.”
He’d been afraid it would come to this. His chest felt as if it was crumpling in on itself. “I tried to love her.” Just as he’d planned this morning to try to say that he loved Julie.
“Don’t make this worse.” Her eyes had filled with tears and her voice was as shaky as a dried-out leaf in a late-autumn breeze. “There is nothing you can say that will make me feel better.”
He nodded. Once. Briefly.
“I’m leaving today.” Julie closed her eyes and turned her head. “I’m taking Duke.”
He nodded again, although she still hadn’t opened her eyes. He hadn’t managed to tell her the entire truth. He hadn’t said he loved her. But he’d gotten what he deserved.
And that was loneliness.
She turned away. “Goodbye, Landry.” She’d gone two steps when she stopped and turned back. “No.” Her chin came up. “I’m shooting. And if there’s any justice in the world, I’ll beat you.”
The black cloud overhead descended.
* * *
JULIE DIDN’T WIN.
She couldn’t control her breath or her sobs or her shaking hands. She’d wanted to win so badly. She’d wanted to crush Nate the way he’d crushed her heart.
Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice...
Julie was twice the fool. First, before she’d ever introduced him to April, she’d thought Nate was her friend. And now...it felt as if someone had ripped her heart out and then reached back in for the rest of her organs.
Nate may have shot better, but he didn’t win either. She wasn’t going to co-parent with him. She wasn’t going to hold his hand through the dark memories. And she was most certainly not going to kiss him.
Julie walked away as soon as she was done. And she didn’t look back. She couldn’t look back.
April.
Julie owed April a thousand apologies. She should have kept her sister away from Nate. She should have known he was bad news. What kind of man wouldn’t let himself smile? Rarely laughed? Didn’t talk about his past or his family?
She knew the answers now and it made it that much harder to watch Nate lock down his emotions, to witness him bracing himself for her hurt and her anger.
Do not feel sorry for him.
“What did I tell you about men and imperfections?” Terrance asked gently when she entered the winery’s tasting room to claim Duke, who’d been sitting on the floor playing with wine corks.
“How did you...” Julie took inventory of the room. Modern tables, elegant bar, discreet video camera in the corner. She walked around the bar and glanced at Flynn’s open laptop. On-screen, Nate sat on the ground, elbows hooked around his knees, head bowed.
Do not feel sorry for him.
Her hands were still shaking and she barely trusted herself to speak. “You filmed this?” she demanded of Flynn.
The winery owner grimaced. “And broadcast it.”
Julie slammed the laptop closed and gathered her nephew.
“It only went out to Harmony Valley,” Flynn said as if that would make a difference. “We have some voters who were interested in the contest.”
Carrying Duke, Julie dragged the stroller out the door. “And all those people lining the road?” All those people who knew, who’d heard, who’d seen Julie make a fool of herself with Nate.
Terrance followed Julie out the door. “Let me help you.”
She whirled on the old man, grateful for a new target. “You knew.”
He shook his head. “I knew he loved you. I knew he felt he could never be good enough for you.”
“He was right.” She shouldered the backpack, wincing when the padded strap rested on her wounded shoulder. The gun’s recoil made everything hurt. She wanted to get somewhere safe and check her bandage.
“No mad words,” Duke said half-heartedly as he climbed into the stroller.
“I can’t make any promises.” Julie’s hands shook so bad Terrance had to strap Duke in.
As soon as the belt clicked, Julie propelled the stroller forward.
Terrance walked at her side. “Nate loves you. I heard him all but say it out there.”
“Everyone heard him almost say it. You had a microphone.” She couldn’t quell the anger in her voice.
“You can’t choose who you love, Julie. Imagine how much it hurt Nate to be honest with your sister. Imagine his surprise when confronted with an emotion he hadn’t yet acknowledged for himself.”
“I don’t need to imagine anything. I heard it all.” More than she ever wanted to hear. How was she going to tell her mother? What was she going to tell her mother?
“Nay.” Duke twisted in the stroller to look up at Julie. “Luv Nay. Where Nay?”
Julie bent over in pain. Duke loved Nate. He loved his dad.
She loved Nate, too. She loved that infuriating, internally scarred, honorable man. Her love... It felt like a betrayal to the sister she loved. When had love blossomed? Was it love on April’s wedding day? Or had it grown to love when she’d administered the Daddy Test?
And why was she realizing she loved Nate now when the truth made it impossible to love him?
“Let me help you.” Terrance guided Julie’s body into an upright position with a hand on her uninjured shoulder and another on her back.
“Nay?” Duke twisted right and left, his dark hair spiraling in the air like antennae in a breeze. “Nay?”
“Nate went bye-bye.” Julie choked on the words. Or maybe it was her heart she was choking on.
What if April hadn’t been so honorable? What if they’d gone through with the marriage? Would Julie have felt differently if Nate came to her as a widower and said he loved her? Would Julie feel the sharp stab of betrayal?
April was gone and she owed it to her sister to...to...
Forgive.
Julie’s steps faltered. She pressed a hand over her bandage, so close to her heart. What if April wasn’t just encouraging Julie to forgive Nate? What if she was encouraging Julie to forgive April? For sending her here. For making her promise to administer the Daddy Test. For knowing that Nate loved her and suspecting that given the right circumstances Julie might love him back.
No one was that strong.
Julie’s breath hitched.
April had been that strong.
Julie wanted to curl up in a ball and let the pain roll over her. But she had Duke to care for, a career to figure out and a drive on busy freeways to make. She didn’t think she could do it.
Love...love was in the way of everything.
Terrance didn’t say anything until they were crossing the bridge, mere blocks from the sheriff’s office. “You can’t drive like this. Think of Duke.”
“I am thinking of Duke. I have to get away. I can’t think here.” She couldn’t honor her sister and forgive Nate in this town.
“Come to my house,” Terrance blurted, cutting off her protests. “I won’t tell Nate. You can rest. I can watch Duke. And when you’re ready, when you’re steady, you can leave.”
“I’m not running for sheriff.” The old man was just tricky enough to try and entice her to go to the vote tonight. “I’m out. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.” He took p
ossession of the stroller handles and led her away.
Terrance’s house was a memorial to his wife. There were pictures of her everywhere. Wedding pictures. Anniversary pictures. His wife holding babies. His wife cuddling puppies.
Julie slung the backpack off her shoulders and stood in the doorway, uncertain if she wanted to intrude on such overwhelming grief.
Duke had no reservations. He snagged the backpack, ran into the living room and crawled onto the couch.
“You know—” Terrance stood next to her “—I hadn’t realized until just now that I might have gone overboard with my grieving.”
She looked at him with raised brows.
Terrance laughed. “You’re right. I’m not ready to take any of the photos down.”
Julie nodded. She understood love and grief. It was forgiveness she struggled with.
“Juju.” Duke patted the cushion next to him and then dug in the backpack where she kept a few of his favorite books. “Read.”
She sat down, grateful.
Duke climbed into her lap and handed her a book. Except it wasn’t a book. It was April’s notebook with the Daddy Test.
“Not this one.” Julie tried to reach for another book.
“No.” Duke shook the notebook in her face. “Read book me.”
“Hey. That was three words.” A milestone. Milestones should be celebrated. Julie smiled and hugged Duke and looked around for...
Terrance had disappeared somewhere. His wife was the only one to meet her gaze. Everywhere she looked, Robin gazed back. Julie realized she was really looking for Nate.
Disappointment clamped down on her chest. But disappointment with who?
“Let’s pick out another book.”
“No.” Again, Duke shook the notebook as if he was trying to shake all the secrets out of it.
Julie relented, opening the notebook and creating a story from scratch. “There once was a boy named Duke.”
Duke clapped his small hands.
“Who had an aunt Julie and a...a dad named Nate.”
“Nay,” Duke said in a breathy voice. He flipped a page and lay back against Julie. “Luv Nay.”
Julie wrapped her arms around him, remembering a conversation she’d had with April months ago.
“How will I know if Nate passes your test?” Julie had asked.
“He’ll answer all your questions,” April had said, breathless because breathing was a chore. “And although you may not like all his answers, he’ll be honest with you. You have to forgive honesty, I think.”
“You think?”
“I know,” she’d said with one of those enduring smiles.
“Read, Juju.” Duke flipped another page in the notebook, one she and Nate hadn’t gotten to yet.
April had written: “What will you tell your son about love?”
* * *
THE CHURCH WAS crowded for the special meeting called for the election.
Mayor Larry kept announcing that people needed to sit on the side of their candidate.
Nate was distressed to find his side was overflowing.
“Spilling your guts out to Julie was brilliant,” Rutgar said when Nate reached the front pew.
Julie and Duke sat at the front of the church on the altar. He knew she hadn’t left town because her SUV was still parked in front of the jail, but he hadn’t seen her all day. She looked like she’d been through boot camp on little sleep. Her eyes were puffy and her blond hair was limp, and he wished with all his heart that he could make her feel better.
Nate walked over to Mayor Larry and shook his hand. “May I?” He gestured toward the microphone.
“Of course.” The mayor stepped aside and then seemed to change his mind and stepped back, leaning in close to ask, “I’m not going to regret this, am I?”
“No.” Nate stood behind the podium and drew a steadying breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you for your support over the past few years. When I came here to Harmony Valley, I was in desperate need of a clean slate and you gave it to me.”
“The election isn’t over,” Doris sniped from the front row. The empty front row.
“The election is over,” Nate said evenly. “Because someone needs a clean slate more than I do. I’m withdrawing my name from consideration as your sheriff.”
The crowd exploded with noise. Some people moved from Nate’s side of the church to Julie’s side. Others began to shout at Nate. Rutgar howled a loud, “Nooooo.”
When he tried to step away from the microphone, Mayor Larry held him fast.
“Hold on. Hold on.” Agnes called for order.
“I should go.” Nate couldn’t bring himself to look at Julie.
“Stay right here.” The mayor’s grip was unexpectedly strong.
The church quieted.
“Unfortunately, Julie Smith does not qualify for the sheriff’s position.” Agnes looked like she’d rather be home than broadcasting this announcement via microphone. “As we noted at the meeting where we decided to have an election, the sheriff only qualifies for the position if he or she meets the same criteria as any other elected official. According to our bylaws, a candidate must have lived in Harmony Valley for at least one year prior to running.”
The crowd erupted again.
“What? You knew Julie wasn’t qualified all along?” Nate used his outdoor voice and it was picked up by the podium’s microphone. He jerked his arm free of Mayor Larry’s hold and took a step back, a step closer to Agnes, who he’d used to trust. “You knew and you put Julie through this circus anyway?”
He wasn’t alone in his indignation.
“You made Nate think his job was at risk?” Julie demanded.
“That is nasty, Agnes.” Doris leaped to her feet. “Just nasty. We should all remember how nasty Agnes is this fall when she’s up for—”
Mildred dragged the microphone toward herself. “We wouldn’t have been in this position if not for you, Doris.”
Not to be excluded, Rose took the microphone next. “And now, unless someone else wants to step up, we won’t have a sheriff.”
The crowd had a gut reaction, a loud gut reaction.
Duke ran to Nate and hid between his legs. “Nay!”
“I know, buddy.” Nate leaned closer to the microphone. “No mad words, please.”
The crowd quieted only to have Doris get to her feet and announce, “I’ll run for sheriff.”
The crowd burst forth with protests once more. This time it was boos.
“You don’t qualify either,” Agnes said, having reclaimed the microphone.
“We need to talk,” Julie shouted beside Nate.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. “Follow me.” Nate picked up his son and led Julie out the back door. “Duke, do you want nachos or ice cream?”
“Nach-cream.”
Nate pressed a kiss to Duke’s forehead. “You got it, buddy.”
“Luv Nay.” Duke flung his arms around Nate’s neck.
The moment froze in time. The chill to the evening air. The way the oak in the town square was outlined against the night sky. The easy weight of his son in his arms as he said he loved him.
“We need to talk,” Julie said again, following him down the sidewalk. “Or maybe you just need to listen. Can you stop?”
“Nope.” His son loved him. He’d gladly give him anything he wanted at El Rosal. “I’m a man on a mission for nach-cream.”
“Nach-cream,” Duke echoed.
El Rosal was empty. Everyone in town was still over at the church arguing about who would be sheriff. Arturo was behind the bar polishing glasses. Nate asked for an order of nachos and ice cream. And then his joy dissolved somewhat as he realized the only l word that was likely to come up duri
ng his conversation with Julie was loathe.
“You can’t leave Harmony Valley,” Julie said when they’d been seated in a booth. “This town needs you and you need it more than I do.”
Nate shook his head. “You need a safer job if you’re going to raise Duke.”
“I don’t plan to return to the force.” She selected a straw from a jar in the center of the table and unwrapped it, coiling the empty wrapper around her finger.
“But still. You need Duke.” He stopped short of saying Julie needed Duke more than he did. He gazed at Duke with his heart in his throat. He was pretty darn sure his father had never looked at him with love in his eyes.
“These are the custody papers.” Julie pulled them from her backpack. She looked at them, looked at Nate, and then she tore them up. “A boy needs his father.”
Nate was speechless.
Ice cream was delivered. Nachos were promised next. And still they didn’t speak to each other. Duke ate ice cream and they let it drip everywhere.
“Jules.” Nate took her hand and slid closer. “You came here to find justice for April. I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you’d planned.” He was sorry he hadn’t been good enough for her. But there’d be time enough for self-pity later.
“Let’s be clear. I came here wanting justice for myself.” Julie looked at everything but Nate. And yet, she didn’t yank her hand from his. “April made peace with her feelings the moment she held Duke in her arms. The Daddy Test wasn’t for you. It was for me to get to know you.”
“But...”
“My sister was a saint. You hurt her and so did I, even if we didn’t mean to, even if we weren’t in love back then.” Julie’s gaze slid away, along with the strength in her voice. “Despite that, April knew what she wanted. She wanted Duke to have two parents. She wanted me to fall in love with you.” Julie put the worry stone on the table.
“It didn’t work.” Nate reached for it, letting her hand go. Letting her go.
Julie covered his hand with both of hers. “It did work. I just had to be reminded that loving sometimes involves forgiving. How could I not forgive you when April forgave me?”
Nate didn’t dare breathe or speak or move. Was she saying she loved him? Was she saying there was hope?
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