Support Your Local Sheriff

“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.

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—”