Julie’s eyes lit up. “Arturo, your wife is one lucky woman.”
“I’m not married.” Arturo clucked his tongue and gave her an appreciative once-over. “And neither are you.”
“She’s not interested,” Nate growled, feeling proprietary. He buttered Duke’s pancakes to keep from growling further at his friend.
“Who says I’m not interested?” Julie gave Arturo a calculated smile.
“This is why I’m single. Too many arguments.” Arturo laughed and moved to the next table.
“That’s not why he’s single.” Nate narrowed his eyes. “He thinks of himself as a ladies’ man.”
“The ladies love me,” Arturo tossed over his shoulder.
“Ladies over sixty-five,” Nate said, qualifying and loading his fork. “Ladies who tip well.”
Julie said nothing. Her attention had dropped to her plate. She’d never been much good at multitasking.
There was a lull in both conversation and argument while they dug into their food. Several minutes later, Duke was slowing down on his pancake, eating with his fingers and getting nearly as much in his mouth as on his face, hands and sweatshirt.
Julie was perking up. The empanada was nearly gone. Her coffee cup had been refilled again. But sugar and caffeine couldn’t erase the look of exhaustion on her face. She needed someone to care for her. Fat chance of her letting it be him.
Nate cleared his throat. “What was April’s criteria for my gaining custody?”
Julie pinned him with an intense gaze. “She called it the Daddy Test.”
Just hearing the name made him uneasy. “I take it April made the test up.”
“She did.” Julie nodded, a mix of superiority and satisfaction in her eyes. She didn’t expect him to pass.
The quickest way out of fatherhood was to fail. Little Duke was awesome and deserved a loving home with someone who knew how to provide it for him. Julie had already offered. She’d do an excellent job. So it made no sense that he said, “Your test won’t hold up in a court of law.”
“I know.” Color appeared in her cheeks. Arguing with him seemed to do that to her. “But I also know you won’t push the issue. We were friends once. You’ll wait to hear my evaluation.”
He shouldn’t. And he wouldn’t have. Except, the longer it took Julie to assess him, the longer she’d stay in Harmony Valley. Worst case, she’d have a chance to find some peace from the shooting. “If I agree, you have to stay for a month.”
She frowned. “I don’t have to agree to anything.”
“You can stay until the doctor clears you for duty.” He could make amends to April if he helped her get through this. Troubled and injured as she was, she couldn’t properly care for Duke or herself.
“The doctor will clear me for a desk job sooner if I pass my psych eval.” Her frown deepened to a scowl. She knew she wouldn’t pass anytime soon. “Besides, I can’t afford to stay here a month.”
“You could stay with me for free.” Before she made a decision, Nate’s phone chirped and vibrated.
In the distance, a siren split the spring air.
“I have to go.” Nate stood, hesitating as he looked down at his son, suddenly loathe to leave. He stroked Duke’s unruly black curls and said, “Be good.” And then Nate looked at Julie. “You, too.”
She scoffed.
Men and women of all ages were coming out of Martin’s and El Rosal. The volunteer firefighters were mobilizing, as were the lookie-loos. Nate needed to lead the pack, not trail behind.
“We’ll talk later,” he said to Julie, who looked like she was eager to join in on a good emergency call.
If it was excitement she was missing, she wouldn’t find it in Harmony Valley.
Nate checked his phone for the address, but it was just as easy to follow the volunteers and spectators up the switchbacks to the top of Parish Hill. Having arrived at a thinly graveled, rutted driveway belonging to a crotchety old man, some turned around when they saw the sign—Trespassers Will Be Shot. Rutgar wasn’t known for exaggeration.
Nate parked his truck along the two-lane road. He walked to the rear of the property with Gage, the town vet.
“What’s this I hear about you being a dad?” Gage wasn’t as tall as Nate, but they had the same long-legged stride.
Nate knew gossip in Harmony Valley traveled fast. But this was light speed. “Just found out he existed last night. He’s two.”
“That must have been a shock.” Gage spared Nate a searching glance. “And here I was telling Doc not to spread rumors.”
Nate fought the urge to smile, to preen, to high-five. Those were the responses of a proud and loving dad. Still, he wouldn’t lie about being a father. “Let Doc run with the news. It’s true.”
“Congratulations. I think I’ve still got some cigars from when Mae was born.” Gage slapped Nate soundly on the back. “While I’ve got you here... I’m still learning the emergency codes. What are we responding to? I don’t see smoke.”
“Injury.”
The closest thing they had to a doctor in town was Patti, a retired nurse practitioner. She was currently enjoying an Alaskan cruise. The first responders would stabilize and arrange transport to medical services in nearby Cloverdale, if necessary.
Nate and Gage reached the end of the driveway and a two-story house sitting on stilts. It was painted a dirty brown and surrounded by towering pines that had probably been saplings when it was built. The town’s fire engine was parked in front of the steps leading to the porch, where the home’s owner sat and howled his displeasure.
“No! The last time someone wanted me to be seen by a doctor, I spent days in the hospital.” Rutgar was a bear of a man, with gray-blond hair that swept past his shoulders and a long gray-blond beard that swept up dinner crumbs. His gaze roved around the gathered emergency workers. “Where’s Gage? He can look at my ankle.”
“Although you’re bullheaded, you aren’t a bull.” Gage wound his way through the crowd, followed by Nate, until they reached the two uniformed fire personnel. “And I prefer patients who don’t talk back.”
“What happened?” Nate asked Ben, the fire captain.
“Rutgar missed the top step, fell and slid to the bottom. Tried to catch himself with his foot on the post down here.” Ben turned his back to Rutgar and lowered his voice, although the gathered volunteers had no qualms closing ranks to hear better. “He needs an X-ray of his ankle. He says his head hurts and when Mandy tried to get him to stand, he vomited. He might have a concussion.”
“I’ll take him to the hospital,” Nate offered, despite wanting to get back to Julie and Duke.
“I can drive him.” Flynn joined them. “I know you’ve got things to do.” The new dad raised an eyebrow, daring Nate to contradict him.
Nate did nonetheless. “Are you sure? What about Becca and Ian?”
“How long can it take?” Flynn shrugged.
Hours, but Nate wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Rutgar was more demanding than a toddler in the terrible-two stage. “I’ll send folks back down the hill so you can get your truck in.”
Nate walked toward the road, stopping at each car to convey the basics—that Rutgar had fallen and needed nonemergency medical care. Slowly, cars began to wend their way back downhill.
A classic blue Cadillac convertible swung wide around the switchback,