Nate’s brows lowered dangerously. “How my dad and I are the same?”
“I guess in your dad’s case that’d be turning a negative into a positive.” She was helping him answer? This wasn’t how Julie had foreseen the Daddy Test going. “I suppose you could say your father was determined to do things his way, like you do.”
“Wrong,” Nate muttered, staring out the window. “He was determined to kill someone.”
The air left Julie’s lungs as if she’d been sucker punched. Abuse could take many forms and she’d just assumed Nate’s abuse hadn’t been physical. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Moving on.” Julie clutched the notebook to keep from doing something foolish, like drawing Nate to his feet and giving him a consoling hug. “What about differences in your friends? Take Flynn for example.”
The lines around Nate’s mouth eased. “Flynn can stare at a computer screen and fiddle with programming code for hours on end. I don’t have the patience to sit still that long.”
“I think you have a lot more patience than I do.” No joke.
“You need patience to work with the elderly.” His gaze drifted to Duke. “Or with kids.”
Julie was feeling woefully unqualified for the job of sheriff and role of aunt when someone called from below.
“Nate?”
* * *
NATE CARRIED HIS boots and socks downstairs to see who’d come calling.
The Daddy Test was dredging up his own nightmares. He’d seen the pity in Julie’s eyes. She was bound to find a new place to stay by noon. Call him cocky, but she shouldn’t move. His care had helped her.
“Nate.” Agnes stood by the door wearing grandma jeans and a white sweater. “We brought the schedule for the election.” She handed him a sheet of paper with hand-printed dates, times and events.
Rose opened the door for Mildred, who trundled inside with her walker. The town council was now present and accounted for. Once Mildred cleared the door, Rose shuffled off to Buffalo with some kind of tap dance that took her into the jail cell.
Nate sat at his desk and put his socks and boots on while he glanced at the list. “We’re going to debate tonight? About what?”
“The issues. Your qualifications.” Mildred lowered the seat on her walker and then sat on it. She peered around the room through her thick lenses, much like a mole when it ventured into the sunlight.
Nate tried to make light of the situation. “How many citations I gave Doris?”
“That, too.” Rose held on to a bar and did some squats...er, pliés?
Nate perused the list. “And then tomorrow night we’re doing mock traffic stops?” He pushed the paper across the desk toward Agnes, who’d taken a seat. “This isn’t election week. The circus has come to town.”
“Don’t put down the circus.” Arms raised, Rose spun on her toes as if she wore a tutu and tights instead of loose pants and boots with a low, thick heel. “I was a highflier in one for several months.”
“We know,” Agnes said indulgently, before turning her attention back to Nate. “Remember that we’re allowing our constituents to vote. They also had a say in the events for the week.” At his frown, she came around the desk and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not all bad. Don’t forget the shooting competition the day after next. That’ll be exciting.”
“For those of us who can see it,” Mildred grumbled, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“You don’t see sharpshooters in the circus,” Rose pointed out.
“Agnes, you said to trust you.” Nate kept his voice down so Julie wouldn’t hear him. The last thing he needed was for her to think there was a conspiracy going on.
“Now, Nate.” Agnes had a way of smiling at a person that made you want to smile back, even when you were disagreeing with each other. “There’s a method to this madness.”
“Madness. You got that right.” His boots hit the ground. “It’s a dog and pony show.”
“But you’ll come through with flying colors.” Living up to her look, Mildred reassured him with a smile and a nod just the way Mrs. Claus might have.
There was a light tread on the stair and Julie appeared. “Am I interrupting?”
“No.” Agnes gave Nate a significant look, followed by a nod of approval, to which he rolled his eyes.
“You’re not interrupting.” Rose was so shocked she walked instead of danced out of the cell. “You’re making our day.”
“Is that Julie? We were wondering where you’d gotten to.” Mildred peered at the staircase. “Why were you...upstairs?” She ended her question on a confused note.
“Nate made Duke breakfast.” Julie descended, trying to pull off an innocent countenance among a threesome of gossipers. It’d never work. Doris would be on her case in an hour.
“Agnes? Do you still have the phone tree on speed dial?” Rose was regaining her composure. She held on to a bar with one hand, and swayed back and forth as if it was her dance partner.
“Ladies,” Nate warned. “Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”
“It is something.” Agnes smiled broader than the Cheshire cat. “You’re running against each other. And sharing breakfast. Again.”
“Every day this week, from what I’ve heard,” Mildred added. Also smiling. Also not innocently.
“Do you like pink dresses?” Rose said slyly. “Because—”
“Let’s get back to the issue at hand.” Nate handed Julie the list of election activities before Rose could bring up Mae’s wedding dress. “The circus that you call an election.”
“You can’t just ask people to vote without knowing who the two candidates are.” Agnes may have been small in stature, but she was big on fulfilling agendas.
“They know who I am,” Nate grumbled.
“But they don’t know Julie.” Agnes walked up to Julie and hugged her.
So much for Agnes being in Nate’s corner. Was his résumé updated?
Julie tugged at the ends of her button-down and avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. “I might not run, after all.”
“What?”
Nate wasn’t sure who hadn’t asked, himself included, but he was the first to say, “Are you sure you want to back out?”
Harmony Valley had a way of boosting a person’s confidence. And Julie needed that boost more than Nate.
“You want me to run?” Julie’s slender brows drew together.
“Honestly?” Nate couldn’t have this conversation with distance between them. He came to her side and placed a hand on Julie’s uninjured shoulder. “No.”
The peanut gallery chuckled. That was certain to be included in the phone tree.
“But if only one of us can protect Harmony Valley, they’ve got two good choices.” In one sense, Nate meant what he said. In another, he was hopeful Julie would acknowledge this was his turf and drop out.
Julie grinned in that all-in way of hers. “Glad to hear you approve, Nate, because if I’m going to compete, I’m going to play to win.”
Nate was simultaneously proud of her and annoyed with himself. Now if he won, he’d feel guilty.
Doris barged in, catching the gist of Julie’s announcement. “From your lips to the heavens above. Of course, Julie’s playing to win. Come along, Madame Sheriff, we have a lot to do before the debate tonight.” Doris held out her hand as if Julie was a child who’d run away.
Julie shook her head. “I need to shower and change my clothes.”
Doris nearly choked on air, her eyes roving the office wildly. “But...but...but...here?”
“Yes.” Julie was more on top of her game than she’d been in days. “This is a safe place for Duke. Safer than your house.”
“Doris,” Nate interrupted the old lady’s apoplexy. “What’s this I hear about one of your dogs biti
ng someone?”
His nemesis waved her hand as if shooing off a fly. “It was only Julie.”
“Doris,” Agnes chastised.
The rest of the town council wasn’t as direct in their disapproval. Rose mumbled something about heartless busybodies, and Mildred might have said she was crossing Doris off her holiday cookie list.
“I’m going to have to make record of it,” Nate said without any remorse. “Just so you know—three bites, and that biter has to leave town.”
“Only if you win.” Doris huffed out.
“I’m with Nate,” Julie said staring down at the ankle of her pants, which had a small rip. “Three bites and he’s out.”
“Is it wrong to wish two more people get bit?” Rose tap-danced toward the door.
Nate sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
* * *
THE WOMEN OF Harmony Valley had congregated in Martin’s Bakery.
Julie sat in the window seat with Eunice, who was no less colorfully dressed today in celery slacks and a violet blouse that deepened the purple in her purple-gray hair. Duke and Gregory played with blocks at their feet.
Doris presided over the chattering women in the center of the bakery in black cargo capris and a blue T-shirt with two Chihuahuas kissing on the front. Presided was probably being kind. No one presided. Everyone was talking over everyone else. Julie heard snatches of conversation, not all of which were pertinent to the election—first woman ever, raise the speed limit, cranberry cake recipe, wrinkle creams.
“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” Julie leaned over to show Duke how the blocks interlocked.
He’d been building a castle that kept falling over.
“No.” Eunice glanced up from the pink quilt squares she was piecing together. “No offense, but they’re more excited to have an excuse to get together than they are about the election. Same thing happened when the barbershop changed to a beauty parlor.”
With a squeal of tires, Lilac pulled up to the curb in a classic old Cadillac convertible. The top was down and she looked chicly windblown in her red scarf and large round shades.
“That woman should slow down.” Eunice frowned. “Or not drive at all. Everything she needs is within walking distance of her house.”
Lilac pushed open her car door. It banged against the silver sedan next to her. Lilac didn’t seem to notice. She slammed the door and walked inside with the hip sway of the high-heeled. She made a grand entrance into the bakery, pausing at the door, removing her sunglasses and unwrapping the scarf from her hair.
“Is that a new dress?” someone asked.
“It is.” Lilac sashayed her way to Doris’s side in magenta floral. “There was a sale.”
The crowd erupted again—what sale, how much, how long? Doris scowled at them all and tried to call them to order.
“They’re supposed to be helping me run for sheriff,” Julie said, picking at a raspberry scone on the small table to her right.
“I wouldn’t rely on this bunch to help me run for the exit.” Eunice stared at Julie over her readers with a minimal amount of extra blinkage. “If you want something, you have to work for it yourself. That’s what my mama used to say.”
“Wise words.”
Terrance entered the bakery to a chorus of boos.
“Really, peeps.” Tracy shouted over them all, bringing silence. “Love thy neighbor or take your business elsewhere.”
“But he’s a man,” Lilac said in a scathing tone.
“A friend of our opponent,” Doris added, glaring at Terrance.
“A paying customer.” Tracy waved him to the counter.
“I need a break.” Eunice stood. “Gregory, let’s go see what fun your mama’s cooking in the kitchen. Duke, do you want to come see Jessica?”
Duke dropped the blocks he’d been fitting together and stood. “Me fend.”
Eunice led the two boys through the swinging doors and into the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Terrance had worked his way to the counter and ordered chai tea. Julie must have caught him on a bad day the morning they’d met. Today his clothes were neat. His shirt clean and tucked in. He was clean shaven. Terrance glanced around the room with interest and a benevolent smile for Julie’s supporters, who were whispering and sending him dark looks.
Terrance thanked Tracy for his tea and stopped by Julie on his way out. “I was worried about you and young Duke. I phoned the sheriff when I saw your SUV last night.” His gentle smile matched his gentle voice.
“You were out late.” Julie’s shoulders bunched. She hoped he wasn’t going to announce she’d slept in her vehicle. That would cost her votes for sure.
He sipped his chai and gestured to the window seat. “May I?”
“Of course.”
He settled next to her, bringing the subtle scent of woodsy cologne. “I was out late because I’ve been having problems sleeping.”
For all his seeming more put-together, he did have bags under his eyes. “Sleeplessness. That’s been going around.” Thankfully, not last night.
“Heard you were at Nate’s later.” Terrance kept his voice low. “Good man, Nate.”
“He can be,” she allowed, noticing she’d shredded her scone to crumbs. She wiped her fingers with a napkin. “Good, I mean.”
Terrance chuckled, setting his chai on the small table to his left and producing a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. “We all have it in us to be good. We don’t always try as hard as Nate though.”
There were several reasons Julie couldn’t comment, starting with the original reason she’d come to Harmony Valley.
Terrance blew his nose, a loud trumpet of a sound.
Across the room, Doris seethed, not taking her eyes off Julie.
“You hurt him with this election,” Terrance said for Julie’s ears only. He tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket and reached for his tea.
Julie was taken aback. “Nate told you that?”
“He didn’t have to tell me.” Terrance cradled his cup with both hands, but his gaze didn’t coddle her. “I saw it last night at the church. After the announcement, his eyes... He expected better from a dear friend.”
It was more appealing to focus on the way Nate inspired such loyalty than to dwell on the fact that she wasn’t proud of the motives behind her candidacy.
Terrance’s blue eyes stood out against his brown skin. Soulful eyes, they didn’t judge as much as mourn a disappointment. In this case Julie. “Life isn’t about grabbing at every opportunity. You have to want something sincerely before you reach for it.”
His words hit their mark. Julie had to look away. She didn’t want the sheriff’s job. Not really. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to make Nate suffer any more than he already had. “I gave these women my word.”
“These women?” Terrance recycled his gentle smile. “They stood behind you for no other reason than Rutgar made a sexist comment. They don’t know you or what you stand for or how you’d police this town differently from Nate, if at all.”
It was the truth. And the truth was if she listened to Terrance long enough she’d be thoroughly disgusted with herself. But she didn’t make any effort to stop him.
“Nate has watched over this community for years,” Terrance continued. “He cares about people. He’s patient with us.” The sermon changed tone, lightened. “His patience has been a blessing to me. Fortitude like that isn’t oblivious to wounds.”
“Nate seemed fine about me running this morning.” Julie felt as if Terrance had put her into a small box and then waved a magic wand and made it smaller still.
“Seemed fine.” Terrance nodded. “That’s the right way to put it. That’s what a man does for the woman he cares for. He seems strong and solid when things are coming apart for him.�
�
The woman he cares for?
He cares?
For me?
Julie’s heart fluttered as if it had wings.
And then her feet and her heart came back down to earth. She knew Nate cared for her. But he didn’t care for her that way.
“Did Nate send you?” Doris stepped before them, hands on her hips and a frown on her lips.
“Certainly not.” Terrance pinned Doris with a hard look, but it didn’t deflate her sour attitude. “I came because Robin would’ve wanted me to talk to Julie and find out what kind of sheriff she’d make.” He cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Have any of the rest of you done that? Do you know what Julie stands for?”
No one said a word.
“Anyone can see immediately what an upstanding person Julie is,” Doris said with a grating tone that made Julie wish she was the sheriff and could issue Doris citations for the concealed weapon that mostly likely rested in her purse.
“I apologize for her behavior.” Julie laid a hand on Terrance’s arm. “You can stay if you like.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got places to be.” Terrance stood, but Doris remained in his path. Rather than argue, he sighed. “Doris, my wife always said you’d had a hard life, one that made you look at the world as if it was half-empty and you had to guard your half. Robin said you needed our kindness. Me? I think you’re a bitter, unhappy woman, not to mention a bully. The only thing bullies deserve is civility.” His gaze brushed over the rest of the bakery’s patrons. “Don’t let Doris think for you. Talk to Julie. I like her, but I also like what Nate has done for this town.”
Doris let him step aside, looking as if she hadn’t heard that much point-blank honesty in a long time.
The women in the room were murmuring and nodding in agreement.
“We should... We should...” Doris faltered, gaze dropping to the kissing dogs on her shirt. When she spoke again, her voice lacked its usual bluster. “We should practice your answers for tonight.”
Julie didn’t want to feel sorry for Doris, but she did. The truth was hard to bear, whether you had a big heart or a small one.
Duke pushed the swinging door to the kitchen open a few inches, peeking through and grinning. A tantalizing smell that wasn’t horseradish wafted through the front room. He crooked his finger at Julie.
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