Читать книгу Support Your Local Sheriff - Melinda Curtis - Страница 11

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.”

“Ignore my sister,” April said in a voice as easygoing as sugar on toast. “I’ve been doing it for years.” And then April had looked up at Nate with Julie’s gray eyes and Julie’s wide smile.

Only she wasn’t Julie. He didn’t work with her. And April had won a bout with cancer, but wouldn’t be able to have children.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He’d given April a soft half smile. “I think your sister is onto something.”

* * *

“SO HERE’S HOW it’s going to go,” Julie said firmly, trying not to flinch when Duke dropped his head to her injured shoulder again. “I’m taking a couple of weeks off to see what kind of dad you’ll be.” That was a bluff. She wanted Nate to sign over custody of Duke to her tonight. The papers were in her backpack.

“A couple of weeks?” Nate’s dark gaze drilled for the truth. “How did you get that much time off?”

“It’s a combination of bereavement and vacation time,” she lied. Why wasn’t he focusing on what was important? Why wasn’t he squirming out of being a dad? “I’ve booked a room at the bed-and-breakfast in town.” For one night. When she’d walked into the church, she’d doubted she’d need to stay at all.

Nate drew back as if he’d gotten a whiff of dirty diaper. “Why don’t you stay with me?”

“With...” Nate’s offer jammed words in her throat. He should have been saying there was no reason to stay. That he didn’t want to be a dad. “Not a chance.” Bunk with the enemy?

Duke yawned. It was nearly eight o’clock, past his bedtime. Julie was spent, too, more energy draining every minute.

Nate placed a tentative hand on Duke’s wild curls. “He’s really... I can’t believe it.”

“Up.” Duke, being April’s kid and having never met a stranger he didn’t like, reached for Nate and fell forward in that all-in way of his. He’d leave with the mailman if Julie didn’t watch out.

He’d leave with Nate if Julie didn’t watch out.

Nate caught him, placing Duke on his hip as if he’d been carrying rug rats around all his life.

The town council, mayor and Flynn spoke softly on the pulpit. The last of the attendees filed out the door with friendly smiles their way. Julie’s hopes for a deep stab of revenge and a tidy wrap-up of loose ends went out with them.

“I tall.” Duke gazed around, yawning. He dropped his head to Nate’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

Nate stood very still. His lips were pursed, but his jaw worked, as if he was wrestling words that wanted to be given voice.

Julie gave him time to reject the little boy in his arms, time to stand by his rote words from years gone by.

Seconds ticked by and still nothing.

“Give me his jacket,” Nate said finally, settling Duke closer. “I’ll walk you out.”