Page 135

“Don’t you want to see her?” he asks.

“Yes. But I need to know if she’s okay first.”

His eyes delve into mine. “She is. I just learned she was only dehydrated. But she’ll be okay.”

Relief floods through my body, weakening my limbs. I finally move forward and follow him through the hallways across the brown, vinyl flooring.

“She’s sleeping right now,” the mayor continues. “I told her she could see you in the morning, but she insisted I bring you in the second the doctor allowed it.”

His tone was low—not out of annoyance or frustration, just sorrow.

Before I can figure out why, we reach her door, and the mayor quietly opens it and leads the way inside.

My eyes fall on Juliet’s slight frame in the long hospital bed, a blue gown covering her front, light blue blankets draped across her legs. An IV is hooked up to the inside of her wrist, and a slight frown mars her brow, despite her sleeping state.

My chest aches. “They’re sure it was only dehydration?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Monroe says assuredly. “Listen, Archer...”

I turn to face him, stunned at his use of my given name. “Yes, sir?”

“There’s been a lot that’s gone on between us over the last few years. I know you and Juliet have been trying to bury it, and I haven’t made it easy.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made it impossible, really. But I’d like to make a change. For Juliet...for you both. Before that can happen, I need to ask you a question.”

I brace myself, his eyes on mine as he asks it.

“Did you fund the barn?”

My breath catches in my lungs, refusing to be released or increased. I turn to watch Juliet. Her breathing is calm, though her frown remains, and her hair, only slightly braided now, drapes over her shoulder.

I don’t know how to answer. I never wanted anyone to know—I still don’t. How did he find out?

“Does it matter if I did?” I ask, staring down at my worn boots.

“Yes.”

I don’t know why it does, but if this will help Juliet, I’ll be honest. “I did,” I whisper under my breath. “Though it was supposed to remain anonymous.”

Mr. Monroe doesn’t speak for a minute. “Word eventually gets around Autumn Ridge—about everything.”

I suppose he’s right.

“Why did you fund it?”

I cringe. I don’t relish opening up to him, but if it helps him see who I really am, I need to man up. “Autumn Ridge saved my life. I wanted to pay it forward.”

I look at him as we stand near the doorway, our voices so quiet, they’re barely heard over the steady beeping of Juliet’s monitors.

“She told me what you did.”

I pause, waiting for him to continue.

“Before I came to get you. She told me everything. Why you were arrested, what you were going through. How you came into your money.”

I expected to feel discomfort with his knowing or maybe indignation. But having Juliet tell my story—no doubt in my defense—soothes my pride.

His eyes swim with tears as he stares at Juliet. “I love my daughter, Archer. No one deserves her—and that includes myself. I’ve hurt her too much. And I’ve hurt you, as well.”

“We’ve both done things we probably shouldn’t have, sir.”