A Soldier's Promise Read online

  Not to mention even suggest that he might not come back.

  Val shut her eyes, breathing deeply. Funny how, with her background, Val had always considered herself a realist. Not a pessimist, exactly, but fully aware of how often things could go wrong. Tomas, though...he’d been the dreamer, the idealist, seeing silver linings where Val only saw clouds, giving her glimpses of shiny hope peeking through years of gloom and doom. No wonder she’d fallen in love with him. And consequently why, every time he left, she’d steeled herself against the possibility that he might not come home. Especially considering his particular job. “High risk” didn’t even begin to cover it.

  But little girls shouldn’t have to worry about such things, or live in fear about what might happen. All she’d wanted—which Tomas knew—was to make a safe, secure life for her children. That her sweet, gentle husband had gone behind her back, undermining everything she’d fought so hard for—

  “Mama? What’s wrong?”

  How about everything?

  “I... I didn’t know. About what Daddy said.”

  “You mad?”

  She smiled—tightly—before holding out her arms. Josie clumsily slid off the sofa to climb on Val’s lap, where Val wrapped her up tight to lay her head in her daughter’s springy hair, struggling to find the peace she’d once let herself believe was finally hers.

  “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

  “That Daddy didn’t tell you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Josie picked at the little knotted bracelet encircling Val’s wrist, the one Tomas had given her when they’d first started going together, more than a dozen years ago now. It was grimy and frayed and borderline disgusting, and Val would never take it off.

  “Daddy made me promise not to say anything. He said it was our secret. But that he wanted me to know it’d be okay.” She leaned back to meet Val’s eyes. “With Levi.”

  Yeah, well, somehow Val doubted that. For a boatload of reasons so knotted up in her head she doubted she’d ever straighten them out.

  But she certainly didn’t need to drag her little girl into the maelstrom of emotions Levi’s appearance had provoked. However...she supposed she might as well let the man fix her porch, since those rotting floorboards gave her the willies, too, and it wasn’t as if she could replace them herself. And the nearby ski resort had apparently hired every contractor, carpenter and handyman in a hundred-mile radius for a massive, and long-overdue, renovation.

  So. A job she could give him. Anything else, though—

  Holding her daughter even more tightly, Val reminded herself, again, to be grateful for what she still had—her beautiful daughters, Tommy’s doting parents, a roof over their heads, even if it wasn’t exactly hers. More than she ever thought she’d have, once upon a time.

  And damned if she was about to let Levi Talbot screw that up.

  * * *

  Levi slammed shut the gate to his old pickup and piled high what he hoped was enough lumber to fix Val’s porch. Yeah, he should’ve taken measurements, but that would’ve meant hanging around, that last “Why?” of hers buzzing around inside his head like a ticked-off bee. Not that it still didn’t. But yesterday, with nothing separating him and Val but a few feet of hot resentment, he couldn’t deal with the question and her eyes. Those eyes—they were surreal, a pale blue like pond ice reflecting the sky. Cold as that ice, too.

  At least she hadn’t told him to go to hell, he thought, as he headed out of the Lowe’s parking lot. Not with her mouth, anyway. He only wished Tomas had been a little clearer about what he’d meant by “Take care of them, bro.”

  He turned off the main road leading to the ski resort onto the dinkier one that went on to Whispering Pines. At this altitude, early mornings were chilly even in May. Would’ve been a peaceful drive from Taos, too, if it hadn’t been for the hard rock music pulsing through the cab, his head, driving out any and all wayward thoughts. Same music he’d listen to in the Sandbox, and for the same reason—to drown out that bizarre blend of boredom and constant anxiety nobody ever admitted to. At least not out loud.

  He’d thought he’d known what he was getting into, that he was prepared, only to soon discover nobody and nothing could prepare you for reality. That reality, anyway. But he’d made a commitment, and he’d kept it. One of the few things he was apparently good at. God knew he’d done more than his fair share of dumb-ass stuff growing up, but he’d never, not once, gone back on his word. And damned if he was gonna start now.

  Levi tapped the steering wheel in time to the beat as the road meandered through patches of ranch land, the occasional spurt of forest, backdropped by the mountains that provided Whispering Pines and other puny little northern New Mexico towns like it, both spring runoff and something resembling a viable economy. Differences were subtle—a new fence here, a fresh coat of paint on a house there. He should’ve found the continuity comforting. Instead, the sameness bugged him. Same way everybody expected him to somehow fit right back in, as if he were the same goofy twenty-two-year-old who’d joined up six years ago. Not that he knew for sure yet who he was, but for sure that clueless kid wasn’t it.

  The village was still half asleep, the tourist traps and art galleries and chichi restaurants on Main Street not yet ready to welcome the resort patrons curious enough to come down the mountain to investigate “real” New Mexico. Almost silently, the truck navigated the gentle roller coaster that was the town’s main drag, past the sheriff’s office and the elementary/middle school, the 7-Eleven and the Chevron station, the corner anchored by one bank and three churches. Rosa Munoz was out in front of the Catholic church, clipping lilacs, same as she’d been doing for as long as Levi could remember. Wearing the same sweater, too, from what Levi could tell.

  Long before he reached the house, he spotted Val standing on the porch in a hoodie and jeans, clutching a mug in her hands. Like maybe she was waiting for him, although common sense told him that was dumb. He backed into the driveway, the top layer of cement eroded worse than the street in front of it. The dog—a good-size hound, he now saw—bounded up when he opened the door, baying loud enough to cause an avalanche. Still seated behind the wheel, Levi glanced down at the dog, then over to Val.

  “You mind calling him off?”

  “Don’t worry—he doesn’t bite. Hasn’t yet, anyway.”

  Shaking his head, Levi got out, pushed past the still barking dog and headed up the driveway...straight into Val’s frown. Which he ignored. By now the damn dog was jumping around, occasionally shoving his cold nose into Levi’s hand. “Uh...if you got him as a guard dog, you might want to see about getting your money back.”

  “I didn’t get him at all. Tommy brought him home one day from some rescue place near the base. Scrawniest puppy I’d ever seen.” Levi looked up. The frown was still there, but her eyes didn’t seem quite as icy as before. “I didn’t have the heart to say no. To him or the dog.”

  Levi looked back at the beast. Who’d planted his butt on the rough ground and was waving one paw at him, like he wanted to shake. Levi obliged. “What’s his name?”

  “Radar.”

  “Because Early Warning System would’ve been too obvious.”

  Val’s mouth might’ve twitched. “Not to mention too hard for a toddler to say.” Then she clamped her mouth shut, as if regretting her humorous slip.

  “Where are the girls?”

  “With their grandmother. Connie and Pete live closer to the school, and she takes care of the baby while I’m at the diner—”

  “The diner?”

  “Annie’s Café. Part-time.”

  “You’re waitressing?”

  “I’m doing whatever it takes to keep sane. And we need to get a few things straight.”

  Levi propped one booted foot on the bottom step as a tremor shot up his spine. “Which would be?”

  Val’s cheeks went pink. He guessed not from the chill in the air. “This is strictly a business arrangement. Why you’re here is...im
material. As you duly noted yesterday, the house needs a lot of work. Work I can’t do.”

  Levi decided to put the why-he-was-here comment on hold for a moment. “Because you weigh less than the dog?”

  She smirked. “Because I don’t know bubkes about fixing up houses. And I gather you do.”

  “Enough. Although if you’ve got serious electrical or plumbing issues, you’ll need to call in a pro. I can change out fixtures and sh—stuff, but anything more than that—”

  “Got it. But I’m hiring you. Meaning I expect to be given a bill for your work—”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Then you’re right. It isn’t.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  A moment’s hesitation preceded, “Yeah. I do. And, yes, I know what I just said—”

  Levi held up one hand, cutting off the conversation before it got even stupider than it already was. He remembered Tommy’s mentioning Val’s stubbornness from time to time. His friend found it amusing, probably because he was crazy in love with the girl. Right now, Levi was more inclined toward annoyance. Pushing back his denim jacket to cram his hands into his front pockets, he frowned.

  “You really hate me that much?”

  Judging from her wide eyes, he’d shocked her. Good. Took a moment before she apparently found her voice. “What I do or don’t feel about you has nothing to do with it. But when there aren’t clear-cut expectations, things can get...weird.”

  “Agreed. Except since I doubt either of us would let it, not an issue. Besides...”

  Damn. He could almost hear Tomas whispering in his ear, Dude—you gotta be up front with her.

  “Okay...when you asked ‘why’ yesterday, the reason I didn’t answer wasn’t because I didn’t have an answer. It was because... I couldn’t find the words. Any that sounded right, at least...”

  “You’re here because Tommy asked you to keep an eye on me and the girls.”

  Levi started. “He told you?”

  “No. Josie did. Yesterday, after you left.”

  “Hell.”

  “Yeah. Still haven’t wrapped my head around the fact that he said something to our kid but not me. So I already know why you’re here—”

  “Because I made a promise, yeah. And I know you don’t like me, or trust me, or whatever, so this is every bit as awkward and uncomfortable for me as it is you. Except the longer I think about it, the more I realize none of that matters. Because what matters is making sure my best friend’s kids aren’t living someplace that’s gonna fall down around their ears. That here’s something I can do to maybe make things better for somebody, to honor the one person who saw through my BS when we were kids, more than even my parents, my brothers. This is about...”

  He felt his throat work. “About my debt to my best friend. One I fully intend to make good on. So it might make things a little easier if you’d get on board with that. Now. You want to pay for materials, I won’t object. But my labor... It’s my gift, okay? Because this is about what Tommy wanted. Not you, not me—Tommy. So deal.”

  That got a few more moments of the staring thing before Val released a short, humorless laugh. “Wow. Guess you found your words.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, I just used up at least three months’ worth. So are we good?”

  Another pause. “Except what are you supposed to live on?”

  “Never mind about that. But here.” He dug the rumpled Lowe’s receipt out of his pocket, handed it over. What he kept to himself, though—for the moment, anyway—was that he knew how much the family had set aside for repairs, because he’d asked Pete Lopez the night before. Not nearly enough, if his hunch was correct about the extent of the work needed. Especially if she ended up having to call in pros. “Also,” he said as she looked it over, “you don’t need to stick around. I brought my own lunch. And the woods over there will work fine when nature calls.” Her eyes shot to his; he shrugged. “I’m used to making do.”

  Shaking her head, she grabbed her purse off a table on the porch, stuffed the receipt inside. “The house is open, feel free to use the facilities—”

  “You’re very trusting.”

  “Don’t read too much into it—there’s absolutely nothing worth stealing. Unless you have a thing for Disney princesses. In which case, knock yourself out. I’ll be back around three-thirty, after I pick up the girls. The dog can stay out front as long as his water dish is filled, but don’t let him out back, since there’s no fence. And no, I don’t get it, either, why he won’t leave the front yard but heeds the call of the wild the minute he hits the back deck.”

  Levi swallowed his smile. “Got it.”

  She started down the steps, only to turn around before she reached her car, a dinged-up Toyota RAV4 with a small American flag hanging limply from the antenna. “If you do a crap job on my porch? There will be hell to pay.”

  “Fair enough.”

  With a nod, she finished the short walk to her car, stripping out of the hoodie before getting in. And Levi couldn’t help noticing how the sunlight kissed her hair, her slender shoulders...the shoulders, he knew, that had borne far more burdens than they should have. Not only recently, but before, when they were still in school and he’d hear the sniggering. Like it was somehow Val’s fault her mother was the way she was, that her father had left them high and dry when she was a little kid.

  No, he thought as she backed out of the drive, took off, he didn’t imagine trusting had ever come easy to Valerie Oswald. With damn good reason. By comparison he and Tomas had led charmed lives, with parents who loved them, were there for them, even if Levi’s had sometimes been a little more there than he might’ve liked. But it hadn’t been like that for Val, who must’ve figured it was simply easier to keep to herself than to either live a lie or apologize for her mother. Which naturally led everyone to think she was either stuck-up or weird.

  Almost everyone, anyway, Levi thought, as he yanked a large toolbox out of the truck, grabbed a crowbar to start prying up the rotten floorboards. So how could the girl who’d worked so hard to overcome her past not look at Levi without being reminded of what she’d lost?

  Clearly Tommy hadn’t thought that part of his plan through.

  With a grunt, he wrenched up the first board and tossed it out into the yard, chuckling when the dumb dog first scampered back, then growled at the board like it was a snake.

  Which pretty much said it all, didn’t it?

  Chapter Two

  Val shoved the last of the peach pies into the commercial-size freezer, then crossed to the stainless steel sink in the gleaming kitchen to wash her hands.

  “All done?” AJ Phillips, who with his wife, Annie, had run Annie’s Café for thirty years, called from the other side of the checkerboard-floored room, where he was molding a half-dozen meat loaves to bake for the dinner rush. On the massive gas stove simmered cauldrons of green chile stew and posole, although the fried chicken would happen later, closer to dinnertime. In any case, the kitchen already smelled like heaven. A New Mexican’s version of it, anyway.

  “Yep,” Val called back, shaking water off her hands before grabbing a paper towel. “A dozen.”

  Grinning, the bald, dark-skinned man noisily shoved the trays in the oven. “My mouth’s already watering,” he said, and Val laughed.

  It wasn’t ideal, though, having to make the pies during the afternoon lull, then freeze them to bake the next morning. But between the kids and not having a health-department-approved kitchen—yet—this was the best she could do. And since nobody was complaining, neither would she. Take that, Marie Callender, she thought with a slight smile as she walked back out into the dining room, where the only customer was Charley Maestas, hunched over a probably cold cup of coffee at the counter. His part pit bull mutt, sporting a blue bandanna around his neck, lay on the floor beside him, still but alert, as if he knew he wasn’t supposed to be inside. Although Annie said as far as she was concerned Loco was a service dog, and that w
as that.

  Val squeezed the older man’s shoulder, his vintage denim jacket worn soft, as she passed him on her way to the ladies’. “Hey, Charley—how’s it going?”

  Charley grunted his acknowledgment, his hand shaking as he lifted the heavy crockery mug to his mouth. The Iraq vet wasn’t homeless, although the cabin on the town’s outskirts next to his old cabinetmaking shop was no palace. But his graying beard was always neatly trimmed and his clothes clean, smelling of pine needles and menthol. She knew he’d served a couple of tours overseas with the National Guard, back before she and Tomas were married, that he’d been medically discharged when an IED went off close enough to inflict some brain damage of indeterminate severity. Some days were better than others, but according to Annie the poor guy would never be able to hold down a real job again. As it was, he often had trouble simply holding on to a thought.

  “Can’t complain, honey.” He took a sip, swallowed, then turned droopy-lidded dark eyes to hers. “You?”

  Val smiled, even though seeing him nearly every day was hard on her heart. And not only because he was a constant reminder of her own loss. She remembered him as a funny, sweet man who was crazy about kids—he and his wife, who’d passed away shortly before his last tour, had been childless—with a laugh that could be heard for what seemed like miles. Seeing him like this crushed her inside. Were the sacrifices really worth it? she wondered.

  “I’m doing good, thanks. But seems to me you’re missing something.” She reached into the glass dessert case for the last piece of blueberry pie, which she set, with a fork, in front of the older man.

  “Oh. I didn’t—”

  “It’s too messy a piece to charge for. No, seriously, it looks like my dog sat on it.” She smiled at his raspy chuckle; then he sobered, staring at the pie.

  “He didn’t really, did he?”

  “No, Charley,” she said gently. “I’m just pulling your leg. Because he would’ve snarfed it up long before he sat on it.”