A Message for Julia

She nodded and turned away again.

Linc went back upstairs, back to bed for a couple hours. He wished she’d join him, but he knew better. She’d have to call in sick to work and she took her commitments seriously—too seriously sometimes.

The sheets were too damned cold.

CHAPTER TWO

Friday Evening, 7:00 p.m.

THE CAFETERIA WAS FULL, but not so full that it was intimidating. Julia looked around. She knew most of these people, some by name but more by face.

The six-member school board sat up front at a couple of the lunch tables that had been turned sideways. The twenty or so other people sat at tables where her students usually hung out laughing and eating lunch. It was a small town. A relatively small school. Nothing fancy.

A few more people filed in and Julia leaned forward. Where was he? Her heart sank. She didn’t want to think that Linc had broken his promise, but he did have a habit of getting caught up in work at times and forgetting things—like dinner.

The board had reviewed the budget, rehashed the booth at the county fair and had just started to go over the upcoming end-of-year graduation activities when the door creaked open.

Julia fought her smile. She’d always prided herself on being independent. She didn’t want people to think she was one of those women who couldn’t survive without a man. But knowing that Linc had come to support her made something inside her shift, something warm. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do this alone anymore. He wound his way into the room and took the seat beside her.

After another ten minutes, the meeting seemed to be winding down. Julia fought not to get her hopes up. Maybe they’d forget about her contract.

“One final item,” a woman at the end of the table said. Julia craned her neck to see. She recognized her. She knew Shirley Wise from various events as well as from when she’d interviewed for the job at the high school.

“Is Julia Holmes here?” Shirley looked directly at her.

“I’m here.” Julia remained seated and Linc nudged her with his elbow.

“Stand up,” he muttered.

Julia frowned at him, but stood rather than have anyone around them hear her argue.

“We’ve reviewed your contract and the letter of reprimand.” Shirley looked over her half glasses at Julia. “Both will stand, barring any further incidents. Thank you, everyone—”

That was it? She wasn’t going to get the chance to speak? People around her looked confused and disapproving. Many probably already knew what had happened, others were totally clueless and were thinking the worst of her. Julia wanted to have her chance to defend herself and her actions.

“Julia, shhh,” Linc said softly. He knew her too well, but he should also know she wasn’t going to back down.

“I’d like to have my say.”

“It won’t make a difference.”

Shocked, she turned to stare down at him. What did he mean it wouldn’t make a difference? To him? To the school board? To her?

Before she could recover and respond to Shirley, the crowd stood and the board members were heading to the door. Her heart sank and her anger rose. She glared at Linc, knowing disappointment fueled her ire.

She was a good teacher, she knew that. She’d worked so hard for and at this job. She loved her students. She stared at Linc. He didn’t meet her gaze. He was chatting with the woman beside him, making casual conversation about the weather. Totally unaware that his actions were what hurt the most.

Suddenly, she realized he no longer believed in her.

LINC KNEW HE WAS in serious trouble, knew from a lifetime of experience and seven years of living with Julia that he was in deep. What he didn’t know was how to fix it. The helplessness he felt had become familiar over the past several months. He knew he should face it head-on, but instead, he let the woman beside him go on and on about the dry spell they were having. He couldn’t have cared less about the weather.

The crowd thinned, and he waited for Julia to head to the door. He turned to look at her and immediately regretted the impulse. She was ticked, all right.

But even worse was the pain he saw lurking behind the anger in her eyes. His heart sank. Maybe there was no fixing any of this.

They drove home separately. He followed her SUV in his truck. Her taillights burned red as they drove through town where few streetlights had come on. In the distance, the glow of the mine created a halo on the horizon. His mind wandered to the work he had to get done up there tomorrow.

He suddenly felt very tired.

Linc pulled in beside her in the garage. Even before he’d opened his door, she was out of her car and the force of her door slamming shook the entire vehicle. She stomped up the two steps to the house and slammed that door, too.

Linc just sat there staring at the closed door. He briefly wondered if she’d locked him out. He cursed. He did not want to go into that house. If he did, what would he say? What would she say?

He knew it would take a while for her to cool down. Maybe he should just spend the night here in the truck. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Long moments passed. Long silent moments. Slowly, the door opened. Julia stood there in the opening, the kitchen light haloing her just as the mine’s lights had haloed the skyline earlier.

He couldn’t see her features clearly in the shadow, but her arms were crossed over her chest. She stood facing him, probably glaring at him, for a minute, then she spun on her heel. At least she didn’t slam the door this time but he knew he was no more welcome now than he had been before.

Well, hell, he cursed silently. He’d spent the past seven months walking on eggshells around her, being cautious of her feelings, trying to fix everything. Why did he always have to be the good guy?

He shoved the truck door open, smacking it into the side of her car, not caring if he left a ding, not caring about anything all of a sudden. He walked slowly into the house, closing the door and deliberately locking it up for the night as he always did.

Finally, he faced his wife. She stood by the window, staring out at the backyard. He walked over to the fridge and opened it, the light harsh in the growing shadows, and grabbed a beer. The sizzle-pop as he broke the seal was loud. His swallow seemed loud in his head, but probably wasn’t. The drink sat heavy in his gut.

“Go ahead, get it over with.” He sighed and took another painful gulp. Her silence tore through the night and through him.

JULIA WANTED TO HIT HIM. Where that reaction came from she didn’t know, but suddenly she realized how far apart they’d grown. How distant they were. For the first time in all the years they’d been married, she doubted they’d be together forever. All these painful months, she’d thought they’d find their way back to each other. But she couldn’t do this anymore, and apparently neither could he.

Linc walked over to the trash and tossed the empty beer bottle inside. He headed for the doorway, but stopped when he reached it. His back was to her, and the way he braced his shoulders told her he was far from done.

She was right. He didn’t turn around but the voice that came from his throat was nothing like she’d ever heard before. It tore at her heart. “Maybe God was being kind when he took the baby away.” He took a few more steps. “Maybe we weren’t ever supposed to be a family.”

He went into the living room and she stood there, as frozen as if he’d slapped her. Linc had hurt her before, but this was worse than anything she’d experienced. Not only because he’d set out to hurt her. But because he had wounded himself in the same instant he’d lashed out at her.

He was halfway to the front door before she was able to speak. “Why did you even bother coming tonight?” She followed him. “Shushing me isn’t being exactly supportive.”

“Support? Is that all you want from me? Just my support?” He said the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “I went to make sure you didn’t screw up and get fired. And you would have if you’d opened your mouth.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I? Don’t you?”

Anger and pain crashed through her. “Damn you, Linc. I…I hate you.” The words burst out, driven by the frustration that had built over the past seven months.

He turned back to face her, his hand curling around the doorknob. “That makes two of us.”

He didn’t say any more, but the spark of fury that flashed in his eyes hurt. Something drove her to want to hurt him back. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore.”