A Soldier's Promise Read online

  “No, you’re good.” Charley curled a hand around his ear. Levi raised his voice. “Yeah, Tommy married Valerie Oswald. Right after you left on another deployment.”

  “That’s what I thought. That Val...she is sweeter than her pies, and that’s no lie. Her smile is like the sun coming up, you know?” He sighed, shaking his head, then turned to Levi. “So how is Tommy? Heard he enlisted the same time you did.”

  Crap. Levi had no way of telling, of course, whether Charley really didn’t know or simply didn’t remember, but either way the news was probably going to shake him. “I’m sorry...nobody told you?”

  On a soft moan, Charley seemed to fold into himself. “He didn’t make it home?”

  Levi shook his head, even as a fresh wave of pain shunted through his chest. “No,” he said softly. “He died in Afghanistan. Late last year.”

  “How?”

  “An IED smarter than he was.”

  The older man breathed out a swear word in Spanish, then frowned again. “You know, now that I think about it, that sounds familiar. When— What did you say his wife’s name was?”

  “Valerie. Val.”

  “Yeah, yeah...” Mustache and beard became one as Charley’s mouth flattened. Reaching up, he palmed his head, massaging it. “When she started working at Annie’s, I must’ve asked then. You know, why she’d come back. Can’t seem to hang on to anything these days. I think they said it’s on account of a bomb going off close by. But if I don’t remember it, did it really happen?”

  Figuring that was a rhetorical question, Levi let it go. Then Charley blew another sigh through his nose. “That’s too bad. He was a nice boy. Tomas. A really nice boy. He used to...he used to drive that purple car around, didn’t he?”

  Levi chuckled. “He certainly did,” he said, and Charley laughed.

  “You see? Some things, I remember just fine. Well, I won’t keep you. It’s time Loco and me got back home, anyway, see if there’s anything good on TV. If I can remember where I put the...the...” He mimed clicking a controller, his agitation growing with each squeeze of his hand. “The damn thing you use to turn the TV off and on.”

  “The remote?”

  “That’s it. The remote.”

  With another exhale, Charley pushed himself to his feet, startling the dog awake. Ready to get back himself, Levi stood, as well. “You still live out by the Dairy Queen?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Just wondered how you were getting home.”

  “Same way we got here. On our feet. We like to walk, Loco and me. It’s the one thing we can still do. Right, boy?”

  The dog didn’t look up, but at the sound of his name his tail pumped once or twice. Charley chuckled, then stuck out his trembling hand, which Levi took, surprised at how firm Charley’s shake was. “Us vets, we gotta stick together, you know?”

  Levi surprised himself by pulling his old boss into a brief hug, patting his back a couple of times before letting him go. “Absolutely. And, hey—you need anything, anything at all, you let me know,” he said, adding, when it occurred to him the dude probably didn’t have a phone, “You can tell Val—she’ll get me a message.”

  It seemed to take Charley a moment to focus; then he gave his head a sharp nod. “I tell Val if I need anything—she’ll tell you.”

  “That’s right.”

  Charley gave him a shaky thumbs-up, then ambled off. Hands shoved in his pockets, Levi watched man and dog trudge away, feeling a frown bite into the space between his brows. Obviously he’d been getting around for years without Levi’s concern or assistance. There was no reason why tonight should be the night he didn’t make it home. And it would’ve taken Levi longer to bring back the truck than it would have for Charley to get home on his own steam. If he’d even remembered to stay put and wait in the first place...

  Levi blew out a breath. It wasn’t up to him to take care of the whole world.

  Even if sometimes it felt like it was.

  * * *

  “There’s somebody here asking for you,” Annie whispered the next afternoon as Val wiped down the stainless steel island in the restaurant’s kitchen, redolent with the aroma of two dozen freshly baked pies cooling on racks on the island.

  “Who?”

  “If said, you might not want to go out there.”

  “And if you don’t, I’m sure as hell not.”

  “Billie Talbot. Levi’s mama?”

  “I know who she is, Annie.” Then she froze, staring through the open door. And, yep, there sat Levi’s mother at the counter, giving her a little wave. Yay.

  “Told you,” Annie muttered.

  “Shut up,” Val mumbled back, brushed most of the flour and pie crust bits off the front of her apron—not a lot she could do about the cherry stains—plastered on a smile and marched through the door to meet her destiny. Or something. In a tentlike tunic and capris, her gray hair pulled back into a flowing ponytail, Levi’s mom came around to fold Val into a hug, the parachute-like fabric practically swallowing her up. The woman wasn’t that much taller than Val—maybe three or four inches—but she was definitely more substantial, and for a second Val feared for her bones.

  Then Billie held her back, her eyes gone all soft, and Val thought, Please, God, no...

  “Now, honey, I’m not even gonna try to make excuses for not coming to see you before this—”

  “That’s okay, I’m sure you’re busy—”

  “Not that busy. Honestly, I’ve been meaning to get over here and buy one of your pies for weeks now. Especially after the way Levi goes on and on about how good they are.” Like Radar on a scent, she lifted her nose toward the kitchen. “And by the smell of things, my timing’s perfect.” Billie grinned, the skin around her eyes crinkling. “Or are they all already spoken for?”

  Relief rolled through Val. Pies she could handle.

  “No, not at all. But your husband...?”

  “As long as it’s not deep-fried, we’re good. So what’ve you got?”

  “Well, there’s fruit—apple or cherry—or custard. Or meringue. Lemon or chocolate.”

  “Lemon meringue would be perfect.” Billie lugged her leather shoulder bag around to dig inside it, pulling out her wallet. “It’s Sam’s and my anniversary today,” she said, handing Annie—who’d reappeared like magic—her credit card. “We stopped giving each other presents years ago, but this will be a big treat for him. After thirty-five years, you learn to appreciate the little things.”

  And Val figured that was that. Except, even after Annie’d processed the charge and boxed up the pie, it was clear Billie was in no hurry to leave. And Val thought, Hell. Maybe she had never been close to the woman, but she knew the friendship between Levi and Tomas had bonded their mothers, as well. Meaning she’d most likely been the focus of at least a couple of recent conversations.

  “So you’re coming out to the Vista for the Fourth, right?”

  Val blinked. Not that she didn’t know what Billie was talking about—the big Fourth of July barbecue and fireworks shindig Granville Blake hosted for the town every year out on the ranch where Levi had grown up.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “Well, you should. The kids would have a blast. Your older girl, especially. In the last few years we’ve made it more of a potluck, although Josh will still be in charge of the fireworks. Like his daddy always did.” She chuckled. “In that respect, he never grew up. But then, I don’t think men every really do.” Billie winked. “You could bring a couple of pies, drum up more business.”

  Val laughed. “And you should’ve been in sales, yourself.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  “I’ll...think about it.”

  Billie smiled. “I’ll take it. Along with this,” she said, hoisting the boxed pie. “And you know, if you ever need a babysitter, if I’m around and Connie and Pete aren’t available, please feel free. Have Levi give you my number.”

  And, with another hug, she was gone.r />
  “So you gonna go?” Annie said behind her, making her jump.

  Val rolled her eyes, then went to retrieve her purse, Annie dogging her heels. As a kid, Val had never gone—her mother having declared they didn’t need all those people looking down on them, by which of course she meant her. But once Val and Tomas became an item, they’d joined the festivities every summer, until he’d enlisted and she and Josie had moved away. That and the ranch’s annual Christmas party were two of the town’s biggest events, outside of the rodeo every September. But the memories—of Tommy’s childlike delight at the fireworks, the way he’d held her close as they’d dance afterward...

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh, come on—it’ll be fun.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You are hopeless, you know that?”

  “Probably.”

  Annie sighed, then handed her a quart of something hot and fragrant in a to-go bag.

  “What’s this?”

  “Green chile stew. From AJ. Because you’re too skinny, he says.”

  Tender pork. Chunks of potato and green chile, hominy and sweet red peppers and sautéed onions, all floating in a sauce guaranteed to clear your sinuses in five seconds flat. “And if I eat all this I definitely won’t be.”

  “Then you can share.”

  “Right. Josie wouldn’t touch this if it was the only food in the house.”

  “Not talking about Josie. Or the dog.”

  “Annie. Really?”

  “What? Now go on, so it’ll still be hot by the time you get home.”

  Uh-huh. The stuff would still be “hot” if it was frozen solid. But Val took the offering, its scent saturating the car on the short drive home, reminding her of the Lopezes’ kitchen. Of sanctuary. Love. If she could even half approximate those feelings of security for her own kids, she’d be doing good.

  Once out of the car, she followed the sounds of pounding out back, where a certain sweaty, shirtless, ripped dude in baggy camo pants was repeatedly ramming a posthole digger into the uncooperative dirt in the far right corner of what would be an actual backyard. She’d never seen the tattoos before, starkly simple but exquisite, one gripping his right biceps, another more elaborate number fanning across much of his upper back.

  Speaking of hot. The bad boy was all grown up, God help her.

  Which he’d better be, since until that moment she’d never realized how much of a buffer the girls had been between them.

  Radar bounded over to greet her, regaling her with a dramatic aria about his day. Laughing, Val plopped in front of the dog, careful not to jostle the bag, laughing harder when he gave her kisses. Levi straightened, breathing hard. Glistening. Grinning. Funny, how Val’d thought she didn’t find pretty boys all that appealing. Just goes to show.

  Then she frowned. “How’d you get him to stay in the yard?”

  “Electric fence. This one’s to keep other things out. Um...you missing somebody?”

  “Connie took the girls into Taos. To, in her words, pillage Walmart.”

  Levi chuckled, then lifted his head. “Am I imagining things, or is that green chile stew in that bag?”

  “Jeebus. Your nose is better than the dog’s.”

  His smile broadening, Levi crossed his hands over the top of the posthole digger, muscles bunching and shifting and such as he leaned into it. The heavy breathing had slowed down some, but not the glistening. Over the past few weeks his hair had gotten significantly longer, Val realized, framing his temples in damp curls, like those little cupids painted on fancy ceilings. Nothing innocent about those dudes, either.

  “I do have a keen sense of smell,” he said. “In fact, I’ve had the scent of green chile stew in my nostrils from the moment Annie called to say you were bringing me some.”

  “Bringing you...?” Val shut her eyes. And her mouth. Her ears caught the chuckle, though.

  “Aw, you’re not gonna make a liar out of poor Annie, are you?”

  The kidding annoyed her. Warmed her. Confused her. Made her acutely aware not only of what she missed so badly it hurt but of what was standing right in front of her. Okay, thirty feet away. But still. In her frickin’ yard.

  She sure as heck was gonna make something out of Annie. Soon as she figured out what. And how the hell did she have Levi’s number, anyway? Still. Never let it be said that she couldn’t be a gracious hostess.

  “I suppose you’re hungry.”

  “You suppose right. Give me a sec to hose off and I’ll be right in.”

  “Oh. We could eat out here?”

  There went that devilish grin again. “No, let’s eat in the kitchen.”

  “Whatever.” Val carted the food inside, where a whole mess of samples beckoned from the beat-up kitchen counter. Slabs of stone and squares of wood, paint chips and tiles in a dozen colors, gleaming like jewels against the blah of the drab, ancient laminate. Even a half-dozen types of pulls, everything from sleek and simple bronze to whimsical, wrought-iron curlicues.

  Absently she set down the bag to finger a sheet of shiny glass mosaics, like little topazes. Or there was the white brick, too. Or maybe the subway tiles...?

  “Just to get your juices flowing,” Levi said behind her. Right behind her. As in, she could smell him, all damp and male and too damn close. Yeah, her juices were flowing, all right.

  “Of course, if you don’t like these, we can always go to Home Depot and you can choose whatever you like. But I thought this might be easier. So you wouldn’t get overwhelmed with all the choices in the store.”

  And that right there was far worse than how good he smelled, or the way her sad, neglected lady parts were responding to his body heat. She could—and would—ignore her hormones’ screeches in her ear, the thrum of sexual awareness making her slightly dizzy. But instead of impatience—the default setting for most men, it seemed—she only heard kindness. Genuine kindness. As if he genuinely cared. And not, she didn’t think, about the state of her kitchen.

  Well, crap.

  But she smiled, anyway, even as she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the one cabinet finish that kept pulling her back, a not-quite white that would brighten up the small space considerably. “You tired of me dragging my feet?”

  “No, ma’am. But I think you are.” She shut her eyes against the gentleness, the truth, as his voice downshifted into a soft rumble. “I know you don’t feel ready to tackle a kitchen remodel. But you also know this kitchen sucks, right?”

  When she burped a little laugh, he moved beside her, picking up the curlicue pull and holding it up in front of the cabinet door. It was adorable and completely impractical and totally her. He was covered, after a fashion, in an army-issue T-shirt. “And you deserve a pretty kitchen. So I’m giving you a little goose in the right direction.”

  She knew he wouldn’t touch her, that she was safe. From him, anyway. From her own thoughts, not so much. Until she’d met Tomas, she hadn’t known what gentleness was. That teasing didn’t have to hurt. Now she was beginning to see why this man and her husband had been such good friends, and for so long.

  His gaze touched hers, eyebrows slightly lifted in question. Blushing, she looked away. “Some of this stuff looks expensive.”

  “Nope. Even if you chose the granite, or these pulls—” he waggled the curlicue “—you’d still be under budget. And there’s another surprise—when I talked to Annie, she mentioned as how she and AJ were thinking of upgrading the restaurant’s range. It’s old, but she said it works just fine—”

  “Are you kidding? It works perfectly. I’ve been doing most of my baking in it. And AJ keeps it immaculate—”

  “So she said it’s yours, if you want. It’d mean reworking the lower cabinets some, but I can do that—”

  “Wait. They’re giving me that range?”

  “But only on the condition you get your butt in gear about the remodel.” When Val blew out a sigh, Levi set down the pull, then slipped his hands in his pockets. “What’s going through your head?” />
  “That there’s way too many pushy people in my life?”

  On a soft laugh, Levi dug into the bag for the stew, loosened the top and set it in the microwave. Sighing again, Val pulled a pair of bowls from the cupboard, wrestled open a battered drawer for a couple of spoons, a ladle. Then she remembered.

  “Your mom came into the restaurant earlier.”

  “What? Why?”

  “To buy a pie for your folks’ anniversary dinner tonight.”

  “That’s tonight? Damn, I guess it is.” His forehead crunched. “My brothers and I should probably have done something for them, huh?”

  The microwave dinged. Val carefully pulled out the container and set it on the old pine table taking up half the floor space, then grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and a package of fresh tortillas.

  “Sounded like she had things well in hand,” Val said as Levi sat across from her and opened the container, releasing a spicy-scented burst of steam. He reached for her bowl, filling it before his. “Like, you know, they wanted to be alone?”

  She almost laughed at the slight blush that bloomed in Levi’s cheeks before the look he gave her stopped the laugh cold. “That near miss with Dad’s heart scared the bejesus out of them both. So I imagine so. What kind of pie did she get?”

  “Lemon meringue.”

  “Then at least if he goes, he’ll go happy.” A huge spoonful of the stew disappeared into his mouth before he said, “Your lemon meringue pie is the best I’ve ever had, no lie.”

  “You’ve also been eating army food for the past six years,” Val said gently, adding, when his eyes shot to hers, “Tomas wouldn’t talk about much, when he was home. But he bitched about the food constantly.”

  Levi stilled, then reached for a tortilla, which he slowly ripped into two before dunking a ragged edge in the stew. “Sometimes it wasn’t so bad. When we weren’t out in the field, anyway. Not particularly healthy, but if it stopped the hunger, we were good.” He shoved the stew-soaked tortilla into his mouth. “Eating...it became all about filling your belly. Keeping yourself alive. Enjoyment ran a distant third.”