But this. This was her birthright. Willa was Sullivan Tate’s firstborn.
As Juniper watched, the curly-haired toddler finally descended the stairs close enough for Ashley to reach. She swung the child up into her arms and nuzzled her neck while the little girl giggled. “Big girl, Hadley! Look what you did! Mama’s so proud of you!”
Juniper wasn’t sure what to do. She contemplated quietly pulling the door shut and just disappearing, but before she could reach for the handle, Ashley spun around. “Look, Hadley. It’s the lady from the library. Remember her? Should we go to Mom and Tot Hour this week?”
“Ashley—”
“Yes, let’s go. We’ll sit right in the front again. That’ll be fun.” Ashley’s tone was bright and cheerful, but she bored a hole through Juniper with her glare.
She knew that she was supposed to feel scared and ashamed. She knew Ashley expected her to duck her head and run, sufficiently cowed and put well in her place. But though her words were sharp as cut glass, and though her eyes were dark with hate, Juniper could see something else in Ashley.
Ashley Tate was ruthless, but she was also frightened. It might seem like she held all the cards—house, husband, heritage and all—but if they were playing a game, Juniper was the wild card and Willa trumped all. What would happen if she simply told the truth? If she confessed to Sullivan that he had another daughter? Maybe he already knew. Maybe he just didn’t dare to reveal her secret. It was obvious that Ashley was terror-stricken by the very thought.
What else did Ashley suspect?
The memory of Sullivan’s simple, damning kiss made Juniper gasp. Thankfully, at the sound, a satisfied smile crossed Ashley’s lips and Juniper knew that she believed she had won whatever battle they were fighting. Best to let her think so.
“Goodbye, Ashley.” Juniper held her gaze for a long moment, hoping that the Ashley she once knew was somewhere inside. I’m not going to steal your husband, she wanted to say. I don’t want to ruin your life. But things might get messy. And if you come after my daughter… Well, it was obvious that Ashley knew all about being a mama bear.
Juniper didn’t look back when she pulled away, but she could picture Ashley framed in the front door, Hadley in her arms. What a mess. Juniper couldn’t be certain if Ashley had slashed her tires or not, but she was definitely capable of it. And if her former best friend was as angry and afraid as Juniper believed her to be, what else might she do? What might she have already done?
CHAPTER 16
SUMMER 14 AND A HALF YEARS AGO
Mom always makes crepes with Nutella and fresh strawberries on our birthdays, and when I wake on the morning of the twenty-first, I can already smell the fruity tang of the berries macerating. It’s a Sunday, the perfect day for a birthday because Jonathan doesn’t have to go to work and we can be lazy and together all day. But before I’ve even thrown back the sheets, I remember that Jonathan and I have barely spoken since the campout. In my mind’s eye I can see him walking away from the fire the last night we were there, flanked by the Tate brothers. Dalton, Wyatt, and Sterling, I know now. Cowboys all. Or maybe vigilantes.
“They’re just some guys I know,” Jonathan tried to tell me when I cornered him later.
“You’re kidding, right?” I was disgusted because everyone knows not to tangle with the Tates.
“Look, June, drop it. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So tell me!”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I don’t want to, okay? You’re leaving in a couple of weeks anyway. Let it go,” he insisted. And then added, “And stay away from Sullivan, like I told you.”
“Make me.” I was getting all up in his face, and for the first time since we were kids, Jonathan put his hands on me in anger. He didn’t hit me or push me or anything, but he grabbed my upper arms and held me away. We stood there, arm’s-length apart, and glared at each other. Then Jonathan let go, spun on his heel, and walked away. I could see red marks on my skin where he had pinched me, and though they faded quickly, I felt bruised by him for much longer.
I don’t want to fight with Jonathan. Not on my nineteenth birthday, and certainly not in the last couple of months that I have with him. I’m headed to Iowa City in mid-July for a two-day freshman orientation program, and then it’s only four short weeks until I move into my dorm room on campus. A part of me wishes that I could just stay when I visit in July—especially now that my brother and I are barely on speaking terms. But a bigger part of me wants to mend what has been broken. And that’s why when I crawl out of bed and throw on my favorite sundress, I’m mentally rehearsing all the ways I can let him know I’m sorry without actually saying the words. He’s the one who owes me an apology, but I want to make amends, even if he’s not ready yet. The clock is ticking.