A Soldier's Promise Page 7

  Same way there’d been no one like Tomas in Val’s life, either.

  And most likely never would be again.

  “And I would never, ever intentionally hurt another living soul,” Levi said over the stab of pain. “Especially a child’s. No matter what I might’ve been like at one time.” He resumed digging, deciding it was the sun making the back of his head so hot. “I’m not that person anymore. So you can tell Josie...” He glanced over, then back at the stubborn ground. “Tell her the truth, if the subject comes up. That in all likelihood, I’m not going to be around forever.”

  “Is that the truth?”

  Straightening again, Levi looked at her. “It’s vague enough to probably keep my butt out of court.” When she sort of laughed, he added, “Look—I don’t know any more than you do what’s going to happen down the road. Hell, I can’t even see past next week. I’m here because, well, for one thing, I had no place else to go. And for another, yeah, because of that promise. But since it wasn’t like Tommy was specific about what that entailed...”

  He shrugged. “All I can do, all any of us can do right now, is play this by ear. Give ourselves some space to figure out what comes next.” When she looked away, her jaw tight, he said, “I totally get what your issues are with me, Val. In your position, I’m sure I’d feel the same way. So all I want,” he said when her gaze shifted back to his, “is a chance to make things up to you as best I can. Since I can’t exactly go back and change what happened.”

  “I know that,” she said softly.

  “But do you believe it?” he asked, and her lips stretched into a tight smile.

  “Working on it.”

  “Then that’s all I ask. In the meantime it seems to me that if the two of us work together, we ought to be able to steer one seven-year-old away from fantasyland. Without having to resort to not being able to talk to each other on occasion.”

  “You really don’t have a problem with that?”

  “If you mean, do I know how to interact with little girls? Not a lot, no. But—”

  His throat closed up, surprising him.

  “What?” Val said, her voice surprisingly gentle.

  “She’s Tommy’s, isn’t she? To get a chance to know my best friend’s kid...” Unable to finish his sentence, Levi shrugged. Then he hauled in a breath and pulled himself together. “Nothing says I can’t be an uncle to the girls, right?”

  “As long as you’re around.”

  “Well...yeah.”

  After a long moment, Val sighed. “I guess that could work. As long as we make that perfectly clear to Josie.”

  “I’m good with that if you are.”

  She nodded, then got to her feet to scoop up her youngest daughter. “But fair warning—if you really want to get to know the kids, don’t be surprised if I call on you to babysit.”

  “You’re on,” Levi said, releasing a long, slow breath after she went back inside.

  Karma, he thought this was called, tackling the euonymus again.

  Chapter Five

  Over the next few weeks, spring finally edged into summer—with only one dusting of snow to keep it real—and the house, Val noted, began to look more like a home and less like the set from Psycho. Somebody’s home, anyway. Now that school was out, both girls spent the time Val was at the diner with their grandmother, leaving Levi—as well as Radar and Skunk, the kitten—back at the house. And Val had to admit, as Josie burst out of the car to both snatch up her cat and prattle to Levi about her day, she’d grown used to seeing him there when they returned.

  And not only because of the wonders he’d worked with the house and yard, but—even harder to admit—the wonders he’d wrought with, well, all of them. Despite her initial refusal to see Levi as anything but the loser who’d led Tomas down the primrose path—and then, later, into a war zone—his quiet steadiness and impeccable work ethic, as well as a gentle sense of humor that never targeted another human being, gradually chipped away at her resentment. Not all of it, maybe, but enough that she finally had to acknowledge this was not the old Levi. At least, not the Levi she’d turned into some kind of monster in her head.

  But mostly—as she stood at the car with the baby in her arms, watching Levi patiently listen to Josie’s yammering—she realized it was how he’d gotten her older daughter really laughing again that made Val’s heart swell with gratitude. Even as it cowered in terror—that something was happening here she had no control over. Something that was only going to bite them all in the butt—and sooner rather than later. Yes, both she and Levi had made it clear he was there only as an honorary uncle. But his obvious horror that she would even think him capable of hurting her children had touched something deep inside her, nudging at her own still sore—and lonely—heart, making her realize her fear of Josie’s becoming attached was the least of her worries.

  As if hearing her thoughts, Levi looked over, grinning. A grin that was maybe a mite too fuzzy around the edges. A grin accompanied by a brief flicker of something in his eyes that went beyond...whatever this was.

  Yeah. Loneliness was a bitch. And what Levi saw, was thinking, when he saw her, she didn’t want to know. Because what came to her mind when he grinned like that, was memories. Memories of another man whose sweet smile—a smile she’d never see again, except in pictures and dreams—could turn her into a puddle.

  And she’d best remember that. Because, fine, so Levi Talbot wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, she might even go so far as to say he was a good man. But if every time she looked at him, she remembered...

  That wasn’t good at all.

  * * *

  Like most men, Levi had no idea what a woman might be thinking at any given moment—hell, half the time he didn’t know what they were really saying—but he definitely knew when they were thinking. Because a quiet woman was a thinking woman. Although, if he focused hard enough on a woman’s expression, he could usually at least pick up on whether or not he should worry. Like if you looked outside and it was cloudy, it might rain or snow. And if it wasn’t, it probably wouldn’t.

  But right now, watching Val holding the baby? The woman could be considering what to watch on TV that night or plotting his demise. No way of telling.

  Which made what he was about to suggest even more fraught with danger. Granted, he’d been thinking it over ever since he’d stumbled across that old charcoal grill in the shed, which had cleaned up better than he’d expected. But he didn’t want to spook her. Or overstep some boundary she’d set up in her head. And if he had a grain of sense he’d be grateful for whatever level of détente they’d reached. Because he was really enjoying getting to know Josie—and her sister, although since Risa didn’t talk, there wasn’t a lot to get to know yet—and working on the house was actually feeding something inside him he hadn’t known was hungry.

  It felt good simply being useful. Making somebody’s life a little easier, maybe. Wanting to ease someone’s burden for its own sake without thinking about what he might get out of it. It also helped him forget. Or at least, not remember so hard, or so often. So he told himself, this was enough.

  That hearing a little girl’s laughter was enough.

  That seeing Val’s smile—real smiles, not those stingy little things from before—was enough.

  He didn’t doubt that what he was about to propose—cooking up some steaks on the grill, maybe corn on the cob—was crazy. Like they actually had the kind of relationship where he could do that.

  “Hey,” he said as Val came up the walk. In her arms, Risa gnawed on her own fat little fist, glistening with baby slobber. Then she grinned at Levi, showing off the two tiny bottom teeth that had only popped out the week before. Was it weird that he hadn’t held her yet? That he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t?

  “Hey, yourself,” Val said back, stray wisps of hair floating around her cheeks. Since it’d gotten warmer, she’d taken to wearing it up more often than not. Levi liked it better when it was loose, of course, but up definitely showed o
ff her neck and cheekbones better; so there was that. Something like profound satisfaction gleamed in her pretty blue eyes. “Sold all fifteen pies today.”

  “Like this is a surprise?” he said, and she rolled those eyes, then smiled, making Levi’s stomach jump.

  “It’s gratifying is what it is. Makes me think I could actually make a go of this baking thing.”

  “No doubt about it.” While they’d yet to share an actual meal, she had pawned off leftover pie on him from time to time. Which, out of deference to his father who couldn’t have such things, Levi had personally, and happily, disposed of. Woman made damn good pie. Definitely something to add to the plus column. If he were keeping tabs, that is.

  “Thanks,” she said softly, and Levi thought, Now or never, dude.

  “Um...” Heat prickled his face before he cleared his throat. “You know that old grill I found? I was wondering what you’d think about firing it up tonight? Cooking some steaks. Because if I eat one more chicken breast or piece of tilapia I’m gonna lose it. Although I bought hot dogs, too, in case Josie would rather have them...”

  Val had gone completely still, staring at him. Cripes, his heart was pounding so hard his sternum hurt.

  “Of course,” he said, playing it cool, “if you already have dinner plans—”

  “No, no.” Glancing down at the baby, Val grabbed Risa’s slobbery little hand, wiping it on the front of her own shirt as Levi held his breath. “I suppose...” Her gaze lifted to his again. “I could make a salad, too?”

  Levi wanted to kiss her. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind a time or six in the last little while—complete and total inappropriateness aside—but now the impulse was from absolute relief. And, okay, because she looked absolutely frickin’ adorable standing there with the baby and those strands of hair messing with her face and baby drool glistening on the front of her shirt, like she was saying, This is my life, dammit. Deal. But mostly relief, that he hadn’t come across like an ass.

  He grinned, even as he realized his heart rate hadn’t gone less off the charts. “A salad would be great.”

  “I think...um...there’s a bag of charcoal in the shed, too.”

  “I know, I saw it.”

  Their gazes do-si-do’d for another second or two while Levi considered the wisdom of asking her why, when he guessed she didn’t grill.

  “Lugged the stupid thing all the way from Texas,” she said. “Silly, right? Instead of leaving it with one of the other families on the base. But...”

  And he could either ignore the elephant swaying from side to side between them, or acknowledge it and move on.

  “Yeah, Tommy loved his grilling,” he said quietly, and she smiled. Not a happy smile, no, but more of an I can do this smile.

  “Obsessed is the word I think you’re looking for. But I haven’t had a grilled steak since...in a long time.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. But yes. It’d be...lovely. And I’m starved. Thank you.”

  “Okay, then. Let me zip back to my parents’ and get cleaned up, grab the steaks and franks, and I’ll be back around five?”

  “That’ll be great.”

  But as he drove the short distance to his folks’ house, Levi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake, forcing Val to face something she’d probably worked her butt off to forget. What if his lame attempt to make her happy only made things worse?

  Then again, how often had playing it safe worked before?

  Yeah. That’s right. Never.

  * * *

  She could have said no.

  Except...steak.

  Grilled steak, perfuming the rapidly cooling evening with smoky sweetness. Even a half hour after they’d tossed the paper plates into the garbage and shoved leftovers into the decrepit fridge, the scent still hung in the air, clinging to their clothes, the dog’s fur as he happily gnawed on a sturdy bone nearby. A bittersweet scent, reminding her of the one time in her life she’d been happy. Content.

  Not exactly how she’d describe what she was feeling now.

  “I’ll clean the grill tomorrow,” Levi said, dropping into a molded plastic chair next to Val, toothpick in mouth, long legs stretched out in front of him. He’d changed from his scuzzy work clothes into a clean pair of jeans and a lightweight plaid shirt. The same boots, though—around here “cowboy” was a state of mind more than an occupation. And six-foot-something Levi did the look proud.

  Damn him.

  He smelled good, too. Yes, even over the aroma of charred beef.

  Double damn him.

  “No hurry,” Val said, looking away, wrapping her hoodie more tightly around her as she shucked off her ballet flats, pulling up her knees to plant her bare feet in the chilly seat of her own chair. She glanced at the baby monitor in her hand, even though there was no need. Risa had conked out right after they’d eaten, while her older sister was doing a good job of wearing her legs to nubs chasing the kitten around the yard.

  “Yeah, but the longer the gunk sits, the harder it is to get off.” Levi paused. “Thanks.”

  “For what? You cooked.”

  “For letting me cook. For you.”

  Val softly laughed, even though the tightening in the pit of her stomach wasn’t particularly pleasant. Or due to her full tummy. She wasn’t sure why Levi was still here, but it’d be rude to ask. And to be truthful she wasn’t entirely ready for him to leave, although don’t ask her why. Also, the words, “You can cook for me anytime,” floated behind her eyes, but she didn’t dare say them out loud. For a whole bunch of reasons.

  Because it’d been a long time since she’d felt this...safe, she supposed it was. And wasn’t that the craziest thing ever? No, not happy, and God knew a long way from content, but at least as if maybe the world had stopped spinning out of control, even if for only a moment. And that’s all life was about, wasn’t it? Moments. Flashes of joy—if you were lucky—connected by stretches of not-so-much.

  Or, like now, vestibules of what’s-next?

  Those were the worst—those long, unsettling periods of not knowing. So go figure how she could feel unsettled and safe at the same time.

  An owl hooted nearby, the sound mournful over the soothing, off-sync chirping of a dozen crickets holed up underneath the newly laid mulch in the flower beds. The growing season was ridiculously short, up this high. And even more ridiculously iffy, with snow possible even as late as May or as early as late September.

  Iffy. The perfect word to describe her existence.

  “Do I dare ask what you’re thinking?”

  Sighing, Val set the monitor on the table beside her, then tried to burrow herself farther into the hoodie by wrapping the hem around her cold toes. It’d been ages since anyone had asked her that. Like they really cared what her answer was, anyway. Because even with Connie and Pete, it was all about keeping up appearances, wasn’t it? Acting stronger than she felt, so she wouldn’t bring anybody else down with her.

  But it was different with Levi. Who, for one thing, she suspected probably had a pretty good BS detector. And for another...well, if he couldn’t take the truth, he didn’t have to hang around, did he? Wasn’t as if she had anything left to lose.

  “About...moments,” she finally said. “Being grateful for the good ones, getting through the bad ones—”

  “Mama?” Breathing hard, Josie clomped up onto the deck in her almost-too-small boots, hanging on to the loudly purring kitten. “Can I go inside and watch my movie?”

  “Not the whole thing—it’s getting late. But sure. Get your jammies on first, though.”

  “No bath?”

  Smiling, Val reached over to swing an arm around Josie’s waist, tug her closer. She smelled of mustard and strawberries and hot little girl, and Val wished she could bottle it. “I think we can skip tonight. And did you thank Levi for the hot dogs?”

  She gave him a big snaggletoothed grin. Her front baby teeth had taken their sweet time falling out; their permanent
replacements seemed in no hurry, either. “Thanks, Levi. And thanks for cookin’ ’em, too.”

  He chuckled. “You’re welcome, honey.” Then Val sucked in a breath when her daughter stomped over to throw one arm around his neck and kiss his cheek before running inside.

  “And which is this?” Levi asked after the patio door slid closed behind her. Frowning, Val looked over. “You were talking about moments. Good and bad. So which is this? Tonight, I mean.”

  Val looked down at her toes, peeking out from underneath the hoodie. She used to paint them. Weird colors, like sky blue. Maybe one day she would again. The old bracelet itched; absently, she scratched her wrist. “Truthfully? A mix of both. Because...because as nice as it is to feel almost normal, the night, the smell of the grill...it also reminds me of Tommy. A lot.”

  There. She’d said it. Out loud. To another human being—that she missed her husband.

  A long pause preceded, “Wasn’t my intention to cause you any more pain.”

  “Oh, Levi...of course not. And I do appreciate the gesture. And the food. Really. I wouldn’t have agreed to it otherwise. But...”

  “I know. Believe me, I know.”

  Val sighed. “I try to stay upbeat. For the girls’ sake. For Tommy’s parents. They need to know—believe—I’m okay. But there are times when I don’t think I’ll every truly be okay again. Not completely.”

  “Yeah. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

  She almost laughed. “Truly.”

  At that, Levi leaned forward, planting his feet back under him to link his hands between his knees. “I do know there’s nothing I can really do to make this better. To make up for what happened. I also take full responsibility for my part in it. But as long as we’re being honest...”

  He faced her, the pain etched in his features clearly visible even in the paltry light over the back door. “I don’t think I’ll ever really be okay again, either. I loved Tommy. More than I even knew until I realized I’d never see him or talk to him again. So I felt it, too, tonight. His absence. Not that I’m comparing his and my relationship with what the two of you shared. Obviously. But I can hardly remember when he wasn’t part of my life. And coming back to Whispering Pines... Dammit, I can’t go down a road or into a store or by the high school that I don’t think I see that big old grin of his out of the corner of my eye. Think he’s gonna come around the corner in that ridiculous lowrider he drove. You remember that monstrosity?” he said, half grinning when Val laughed in spite of herself. “Man,” he said, shaking his head, “that was one ugly-ass car.”