The Unmaking of June Farrow

I was breathing harder now, pulling him closer to me so that the space between us disappeared. I let my head tip back, and his chin brushed the tip of my nose. I could feel his hand closing around the fabric of my skirt, a clenched fist of emerald green.

His mouth was centimeters from mine, and my entire body waiting for it. I was burning beneath my dress, a fire engulfing me as his breath touched my skin.

The sound of the fiddle suddenly snuffed out, and the world came rushing back: a smear of glowing lights, the hum of people, and the sound of the rushing river beneath the bridge.

Eamon’s grip on me tightened for just a second before he completely let me go.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “It’s too hard.”

He stepped backward, and the heat that had enveloped me bled away, leaving me cold. That muscle in his jaw was flexing again, his eyes finding everything in the room except for the one place I wanted him to look—at me.

“Eamon.” I said his name, and the light in his eyes changed. He searched my face with an intensity that made my blood run faster in my veins.

But then he turned into the crowd, becoming no more than a shadow moving in the darkness on the street. I pushed into the crush of people, looking for a space where I could find some air. When I finally made it through to the edge of the tent where I could feel a breeze, I found myself beside the railing of the bridge. Below, the black river was invisible.

There was a pit in my stomach, a horrible, plummeting feeling that made me close my eyes. What was I doing? Why had I touched him like that? The same questions had been in that look on his face when he pulled away from me.

“Mrs. Stone.” I bristled when I heard Caleb Rutherford’s voice, flat as still water, at my back.

He stood a few steps away, a glass dangling from his fingertips as he leaned into the wooden post with his shoulder. He wasn’t in his uniform, and for some reason, that made him look even more intimidating. A light blue shirt was tucked into his gray trousers, the gold rim of his cigarette case visible from the top of the chest pocket. He looked younger with his hair combed like that.

“Hello.” The greeting was awkward, but I didn’t know what would sound the most normal. Had I called him Caleb before? Mr. Rutherford? Sheriff Rutherford?

He took a step toward me, and I inhaled the scent of stale smoke and sweat, the hair standing up on the back of my neck. I felt incredibly small next to him, and when I saw the look on his face, it was clear that was exactly what he wanted.

I shot a glance in the other direction, trying to spot Esther or Margaret, but the dance floor was filled with people again, blocking my view.

Caleb’s gaze didn’t break from me as he moved closer, putting himself between the edge of the tent and the place where I stood. “Enjoyin’ the party?”

I smiled. “I am.”

There was a beat of silence where his response would have naturally gone, but he let it expand, watching me shrink away from him just slightly.

“That’s good,” he finally said. “I’m sure you missed this place. Your family.”

I found the chain of the locket watch around my neck, fighting with it to give my hands something to do. But as soon as I realized the movement was drawing his attention to it, I instinctively turned a little away from him.

“I did.” I answered.

“You know, I’ve been thinkin’ about why you might have stayed away so long.”

“I was taking care of my—”

“Your mother.” He nodded. “That’s right.”

My palms were sweating now.

“The only thing is, I think you’re lyin’, June. I don’t know where you’ve been for the last year, but I don’t think you were in Norfolk. And it’s only a matter of time before I can prove it.”

He lifted the glass, taking his time as he drank the last of the beer.

“My only guess is that you thought if you stayed away long enough, all of this would go away. But it won’t.”

“Caleb.” His name slipped out, but I couldn’t tell if it struck him as odd. “I understand that you loved your father, and that you’re trying to get justice for him. But I don’t know anything about what happened to him that night.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about him.” His tone transformed, making me unsure if I’d heard him correctly. “He was a cruel bastard and no kind of father. But you already know that, don’t you?”

“What?” I said, hollowly.

I was frozen, telling myself that it wasn’t possible that Caleb could know who I really was. Even if he’d entertained the idea, he could never confirm it. The second I thought it, I second-guessed myself. I had no idea when paternity testing was invented. Was there some way he could know?

“See, my father wasn’t right after you came to Jasper,” he continued. “He was consumed with this idea that you weren’t who you said you were. When Eamon started makin’ complaints, sayin’ he’d found him parked on the road, watchin’ the house, I realized somethin’ was wrong.”

So, Caleb’s suspicions had started before his father was murdered.

“He wouldn’t tell me the truth. Just kept sayin’ that you were sent to torment him. That the devil had cursed your family and that he had to protect us from it.”

“Why didn’t you say any of this when you brought me in?”

He didn’t answer, but I was already putting it together.

“You don’t want any of that on record, do you?” I said. “Not on the tape, and not in the statements.”

Caleb looked amused by the suggestion. I was right.

He moved again so quickly that I didn’t see his hand coming until he’d already snatched up my arm. He squeezed it, making me gasp. But the music was filling the space around us. Laughter. A glass breaking.

“I see you, June Stone,” he murmured, his face close to mine. “You’re coverin’ for Eamon, and I’ll get what I need to prove it. Then you’re both gonna pay for what you did.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I spoke through clenched teeth, fear coursing through me so swiftly that I could feel a scream trapped in my throat.

I could see the remnants of his father, our father, in that crazed look. It was the fractured man who stared back at me from that portrait in the diner. In the same breath, Caleb’s face blurred, interchanging with Nathaniel’s, those same black eyes boring into mine. It wasn’t the first time I’d tasted this fear.

The pain in my arm grew to a sharp ache before he suddenly let me go, and the easy smile returned to his face.

“Now, you enjoy your night.”

Caleb stepped past me and was swallowed up by the crowd. I glanced around me, looking for anyone who may have been watching, but there was no one. I smoothed out the rumpled shoulder of my dress before I set a hand on my stomach, holding it there as a wave of nausea rolled over me.

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