His face went gray. “This. This is what you were going to tell me?”
She wanted to take it back, to do anything to erase that look of utter betrayal. But there was no way out of this situation without hurting them both. Miserable, she just nodded.
His hands curled to fists and a muscle twitched in his jaw as he tried to hold on to his temper. “Where will you go? What will you do? Do you already have a job lined up?”
The answer to that was easier than it might’ve been. “My mother’s in Denver.”
Judd stared. “Your mother? When did you find her?”
And the shocks were just gonna keep on coming. “I’ve always known where she was.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Patty asked softly.
“At first it was to protect her. Until the trial was done, I didn’t want to risk that he’d be set free and go after her. And then…I was afraid you’d send me away.”
“Oh honey.” Autumn heard the tears in Patty’s voice. “We’d never have sent you away. Not then and not now.”
She knew that. Knew that this family was so much more hers than the one she had by blood. And she’d do anything to protect them. “You’re not sending me away. I’m choosing.”
“How can you possibly go to her?” Judd demanded. “She left you.”
She’d let him think it all these years because it was easier than the truth. “No she didn’t. We were both supposed to leave that day.”
“What?”
“She had a plan to get us away from Wishful, away from my father.” But going meant walking away from Judd. No goodbye, no contact. She’d been more afraid of a life without him than she’d been of her father. “I made a choice. I chose you. And because I did, you nearly died. I won’t do that again. I won’t use you as my shield.”
“Fuck that. I’m not some untrained kid anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter. If I stay, it paints a target on your back because you’ll be my shield. You will stand between him and me because it’s what you do, it’s who you are. You’ve been my protector since that playground in first grade.” Autumn reached out, unerringly laying her hand over the scar on his chest she could find blindfolded and in the dark. The phantom taste of his blood coated the back of her throat and with it, shades of the abject terror that had haunted her for fourteen years. Ruthlessly, she fought it back. “Less than a centimeter, Judd. I won’t go through that again. I can’t.” She stepped back. “You’re Chief of Police now. You’ve got more than me to worry about.”
Chapter 4
Judd hadn’t slept for shit. Too many bombs had been dropped yesterday. He had a feeling they’d be dealing with the fallout for a long time to come.
But life wasn’t going to slow down and give him a chance to adjust to the fact that his whole world had irrevocably shifted on its axis. Jebediah was still being released in forty-eight hours. On a medical release, as it turned out. After all this time, the son of a bitch really was dying. Judd wondered how fast. Either way, formalities had to be observed. So here he was in Lawley for a meeting with the Wachoxee County Sheriff and Jebediah’s parole officer, going over the particulars. If he was lucky, he might have time to swing by and see his grandparents on the way home. Maybe Nanna could come up with a way to convince Autumn to stay.
Bill Riggs, a balding man with just a bit of a paunch straining the buttons of his uniform, leaned back in the chair behind his big metal desk. The surface was littered with stacks of files, proving that he was still very much active in his department. “I know this is an unusual situation, what with your personal involvement, but trust that we’ve got your back on this.”
Judd hadn’t expected anything less, but having the sentiment confirmed made him feel an iota better. “I appreciate that, Sheriff.”
“Oh now, none of that. You’re Chief of Police now. Call me Bill.”
Judd nodded. “Thanks. I feel better knowing you were here when all this went down the first time. You know what we’re dealing with.”
“Ugly business,” Riggs agreed.
In the other guest chair, Tyrell Weller, Jebediah’s parole officer, leaned forward. “How’s his daughter taking it? I assume she’s been notified.”
Judd couldn’t stop the clench of his jaw. “She’s leaving Wishful.”
“Damn.” Weller shook his head. “Shame she feels like she has to do that. But can’t blame her.”
“She’d already been making plans before this.”
“Oh, well, good timing then, I guess.”
There was nothing good about any of this.
Nobody was happy with Autumn’s decision, leastwise Autumn herself. She could say anything she wanted about the practicalities, but he knew her. She didn’t want to leave. But no amount of discussion by him or his parents would sway her. He wanted to believe she’d get past this, that she was just scared. But he couldn’t escape the fact that she’d already decided this before she even knew about Jebediah.
How could she not have told him about her mother? They’d never lied to each other.
Really? You’re going to harp on honesty?
Okay, so he’d lied to her about the one thing. But it had been for her own good, so he could continue to keep her safe. Everything he’d done had been to keep her safe.
How’s that working out for you? She’s leaving.
It was hard not to take that as a slap in the face.
And yet, what right did he have to try and keep her here? Just because he’d made her the compass of his life didn’t mean she had to do the same. He had no hold over her other than friendship. He’d made sure of that, hadn’t he?
Impatient to be finished, Judd rose. “I need to be getting back. There are a lot of details to be sorted with Robert still in the hospital.”
“Of course.” Bill rose, too. “Give him my regards. And good luck with the new position.”
“I will. Thanks. ”
“It’s a real pity things worked out like this. I’d been hoping to sweet talk you into coming to join my investigative unit.”
Judd paused. “You wanted me for detective?”
“You’d make a goddamned fine one. Good instincts. That work you did on the Fornell case was top notch. Another day or two and her daddy would’ve gotten away with her.”
Instead, the girl was safely with her mother, out of state, and her father had gone to prison for kidnapping. Judd had been proud of his work on that case, proud of the outcome. It was the sort of thing that made up for all the other shit he dealt with as a cop.
“I’m just glad it turned out all right.”
“You decide you’re tired of running things, you give me a call,” Riggs told him.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Tyrell, I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”
Judd shook hands with both men and headed out.
Detective.
The idea of it circled around his brain as he climbed into his cruiser and headed toward his grandparents’ farm.
Like so many other areas of his life, Judd had become a cop to protect Autumn. Even at eighteen, he’d known Jebediah would get out someday, and he’d wanted the authority and training to do something about it when the time came. That he’d stumbled into his passion had been happy coincidence. Investigation was his favorite part of the job. It fired his mind, kept him on his toes, and, most importantly, fed his deep-seated need to put away the bad guys. The idea of doing just that for a career was beyond appealing. If things were different, he’d be all over that.
But things are different. Autumn’s leaving. Your reasons for becoming Chief aren’t valid anymore.
No. He wasn’t willing to accept that. Autumn wasn’t gone yet, and for better or worse, he was Wishful’s Chief of Police. He wouldn’t be shirking that duty.
Pop’s truck wasn’t in the drive when Judd pulled up to the house, but he could see Nanna kneeling in her vegetable patch, a broad brimmed hat shading her eyes.
She sat back on her heels as he approached. “Wh
at a lovely surprise!”
Despite his foul mood, he worked up a smile for her. “Hey beautiful.”
“Help me up. These knees are a mite creakier than they used to be.”
Judd took her extended hand and pulled her to her feet and on into a tight hug.
She gave him a solid squeeze. “You want to talk. Come on and let’s get some tea.”
Because the morning hadn’t yet warmed up past comfortable, they settled on the back porch with tall glasses of sweet tea.
“Your mama called.”
“She told you then.”
“About Jebediah. About Autumn leaving,” Nanna said.
Well, that saved him some time. “She can’t leave.”
“You don’t want her to leave,” she corrected.
To his mind, it was the same thing. Judd rolled the cold glass between his palms. “She doesn’t want to leave either. I know she doesn’t. She just doesn’t think she has a choice.”
Nanna pinned him with a gimlet stare. “So give her a choice.”
His heart began to pound. The same thought had been circling beneath the surface of his brain just waiting to rise to consciousness. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to lock it away again.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is. You have the power to make her stay. You always have.”
Autumn’s voice echoed in his head, cutting him to the quick yet again.
I made a choice. I chose you.
She’d chosen him and because she had, she’d been home that day when Jebediah discovered his wife had left him. She’d been home to be a target for his rage. Jebediah had taken one look at the two of them together and seen nothing innocent. An hour later and he might’ve been right. They’d been on the cusp of changing everything.
Instead, it had ended in blood.
Judd had known then that he could never risk being with Autumn. He could never risk it not working out and leaving her unprotected. That was more important now than ever. His memories of that day were the only thing he’d ever lied to Autumn about.
“We’re her family. How can she walk away from that?”
“Maybe because it hurts her too much to stay.”
Judd dropped his gaze to his tea.
“Did you really think she’d forever be okay watching you with somebody else?”
Maybe he had thought that, at one time. He’d thought they could stay the friends they’d always been and develop relationships with other people. He’d wanted her to have some normal. She deserved someone who’d love and adore her, who’d put her first. He’d thought that if he led by example, thrown himself into other relationships, that she’d feel comfortable enough to do the same. And he’d thought maybe, eventually, he’d find a woman who’d fill that void for him, make him truly feel, deep down, that he’d done the right thing. Autumn had always been supportive of his relationships, and it’d taken a while for him to realize she’d stopped trying to find one herself. The small, selfish part of him had been glad of that, and he knew that made him a right bastard.
“You’re not pulling any punches today.”
“You don’t come to me for coddling, sweetheart. You come to me for sense. You’re a good man, Judd. I know you want to do the best for everybody, and you don’t want anybody to get hurt. But I think maybe it’s time you considered that Autumn has the right idea in running away from home.”
“Running doesn’t solve anything,” he insisted.
Nanna tipped back the last of her tea. “Might if you ran with her.” With that parting shot, she rose. “It was good to see you, baby. Give everybody my love.”
~*~
The day her father got out of prison, Autumn gave serious thought to hiding out in her house. She hadn’t seen anything in the news about Jebediah, but it was only a matter of time before the media caught wind of his release and the vultures descended again. He’d find her, like a scavenger stalking carrion birds to find an easy meal. And then…she didn’t want to think about what he’d do. Judd had told her about the medical release, but no matter what Jebediah had, he was too goddamned mean to just conveniently keel over and stop being a problem. In the end, she went to work because the impulse to hide smacked too much of the scared little girl she’d been, and she’d worked far too hard to overcome those early years to go back there now.
But as she went through the soothing, methodical process of reshelving books, she was starting to reconsider.
“Who’s the author again?”
“Rumor Fairchild. I’m telling you, you’ve got to read them. They’re outstanding.”
Twin spurts of excitement and paranoia shot through her at the sound of her pen name. Dear God. Someone local had read them. She resisted the urge to peer around the shelf to see who.
“Romantic suspense, you said?”
“Yeah. They’re, like, Nora Roberts meets five alarm erotic romance. I tell you, that Cooper about made my panties burst into flame.”
Dear God. Someone local had read them.
A decided sense of dread settled in Autumn’s gut. She’d changed the names and settings and masked the obvious similarities to reality, but there was so much of her in there. So much of Judd and the rest of Wishful. What if people recognized them? What the hell had she been thinking, putting her most prurient fantasies out there for public consumption?
“You look like you swallowed bad sushi.”
Autumn jolted, the book in her hand flying up as she spun toward Judd. “God!”
Of course, he just reached out and snagged it, one brow lifting.
Had she shrieked? A quick glance around said yes as she noted several pairs of eyes aimed in their direction. Consciously lowering her voice, she glared at him. “What is the matter with you? You know not to sneak up on me!”
Judd handed the book back and stepped close enough to run a hand down her arm. “Sorry. I thought you saw me coming.”
Since when had she ever seen him coming?
“Why are you even here today?” he asked.
“Where else would I be? I’m not going to hide from him.” Not anymore.
“But you have no problem running.”
Oh, so they were still in this fight? Autumn hadn’t been sure. Judd had been largely MIA the last couple of days as he leapt feet first into his new job as Chief of Police. She wasn’t sure how much of that was him taking time to cool off and how much was legitimately being busy. Seeing him now, the strain of little sleep etched on his face, she felt guilty for being the cause of any of that.
She shoved the book onto the correct shelf. “I told you this has nothing to do with him.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“What do you want me to say, Judd? That I hate this? I do. That I don’t want to go? I don’t. But look around. My reasons for staying have been dwindling. I have to be able to support myself.”
“There are other jobs. And there’s bound to be something closer than Colorado.”
Undoubtedly that was true. She hadn’t actually looked yet. But if she was really going through with this, having a complete, fresh start seemed the only way to go.
“I’m not a hundred percent set on Denver. I just feel the need to try and reconcile with my mother.”
“She left you,” he said again. “Whether you were supposed to go or not, she didn’t ever come back for you after he was put away. She could have and she didn’t.”
“She couldn’t come back here. I lived through all of it with her, so I completely understand the memories this place holds for her. I could’ve gone to her at any point, and I chose not to. Because I had you and I had your family. I survived because that. She never had that kind of support.”
“And yet you’re going to just walk away from yours?”
Temper leapt like a caged beast. How dare he act like this was some thoughtless, casual decision. Did he not understand how codependent and dysfunctional their relationship was for two people who weren’t romantically
entangled? No, of course he didn’t. He’d spent his life putting her first in every way but the one she wanted most. She couldn’t live like that anymore.
But neither could she hurt him with the truth.
“I don’t make this decision lightly.” I don’t walk away from you lightly. She wasn’t a hundred percent certain she could walk away from him at all. But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d never be the one to walk away from her, so she had to be strong enough for them both.
She turned away, heading for the reference desk and hoping to put an end to this discussion. Her steps faltered as she saw Mark patiently waiting.
Crap. Caught between a rock and an awkward place.
Before she could decide whether to try and hide, Mark turned and saw her. He shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and grinned broadly, offering a little wave.
Straightening her shoulders, Autumn went to do her librarian duty. “Hi Mark. Here for those interlibrary loan books?”
“Partly.” He slung his omnipresent messenger bag and a small camera bag on the counter.
Her gaze drawn to the latter, she asked, “Picking up a new interest in photography?”
“Oh, it’s not new. I like taking pictures of historic sites and the like. Just got an upgraded model, so I’ve been testing it out.”
“Cool.” She moved to the shelf of interlibrary loan books and pulled the ones labeled with Mark’s name. Aware of Judd propping himself on one elbow on the side counter, Autumn kept her attention on her patron. “You said there something else I could help you with? More of your genealogy research?”
“Dinner,” he said.
Was he looking for cookbook recs? “Beg your pardon?”
“I came to ask you out for dinner.”
Well, crap, she’d just walked right into that one.
For about half a second she considered it. He was sweet, if a little nervous, and certainly intelligent, and she did want to move on. But in no universe was he ever going to compete with Judd. No one was ever going to compete with Judd. Which left her with finding some way to gently reject Mark without embarrassing him.
“What she’s trying to find a way to tell you, Mark, old buddy, is that she’s fixin’ to be moving.”