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A Soldier's Promise
Karen Templeton


WHEN A PROMISE BECOMES A TEMPTATION…Look after his best friend’s widow and kids. It was a promise Levi Talbot was determined to keep. But returning to Whispering Pines, New Mexico, where he was once known as the local troublemaker, wasn't easy for the former soldier. Especially when gorgeous Valerie Lopez really wants nothing to do with him…and Levi can't get her out of his head!Val knows she needs Levi's help – her house is in chaos and she's juggling two young kids with a fledgling business. So she lets him take over the repairs – but there's no way she's letting Levi make himself at home! Since her husband's death, Val has kept her heart locked away…but what if the handsome veteran-next-door is the key to her future?







I could be yours.

Right. As if he’d ever in a million years be able to compete with the guy she’d just said she’d love forever. Besides, all his friend had wanted was for Levi to make sure Val was okay. He sincerely doubted falling for the woman had been part of his best friend’s plan.

Then again …

Maybe it was time to set aside his loyalty to a dead man for a shot at something far bigger. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to be everything to Val, to her girls, that he couldn’t have been before. Yes, it had to be her choice to move forward or not. But how could she make that choice if he didn’t give her the option? And if the odds were stacked against him … tough.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

* * *

Wed in the West: New Mexico’s the perfect place to finally find true love!


A Soldier’s Promise

Karen Templeton




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KAREN TEMPLETON is a recent inductee into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. A three-time RITA


Award-winning author, she has written more than thirty novels for Mills & Boon and lives in New Mexico with two hideously spoiled cats. She has raised five sons and lived to tell the tale, and could not live without dark chocolate, mascara and Netflix.


To my oldest son, Christopher

Whose own service continues to bless.

Semper Fi, dude.


Contents

Cover (#u683c6b35-b432-558f-a469-ccbed39981d7)

Introduction (#u9c6e5fec-2f9d-523d-8b12-d19d8402fb7e)

Title Page (#uc465706d-25cf-5c11-8f29-8f93652764e8)

About the Author (#u9869cc8f-bd2e-5080-a666-ac1313fdbd69)

Dedication (#u0e51895b-0d78-548d-80e4-b5bee7832ea2)

Chapter One (#ub8f3d12c-af59-52b1-98c8-fa99f73b042e)

Chapter Two (#ub1cdfb6b-9cd6-53dd-9e14-d87a9cf057f1)

Chapter Three (#u4c5f2780-62c0-5282-87ef-5e139986780a)

Chapter Four (#u1f92a136-4ce6-5e7d-8a39-23d47675c0ff)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_2340b2f4-efbb-5e00-a201-fffa5d653085)

Sweat streamed down Levi Talbot’s back as he sat in his pickup across the street, watching Valerie Lopez paint the window trim of a house he hadn’t set foot in for... Damn. Ten years, at least.

She was even skinnier than he remembered, sharp shoulder blades shifting, bunching over the scoop of a white tank top that teased the waistband of her low-rise jeans. Her pale hair was still long, wadded on top of her head, pieces sticking out every which way. In a nearby play yard a dark-haired baby sat gnawing on a plastic toy, while her older sister lay on her belly on the mottled floorboards, quietly singing as she scribbled, bare feet swinging to and fro. Then the little girl shoved to her knees, thrusting the open coloring book toward her mother.

“Mama! I gave her hair like mine! See?”

Levi saw Val glance over, her smile gentle as she bent to get a better look. Chuckling softly, she fingered the girl’s deep brown curls.

“A huge improvement, I’d say,” she said. The child giggled, making Val smile even bigger, and Levi flinched.

How the hell was he supposed to do this? Whatever this was.

And why the hell had it never occurred to him he might actually have to make good on that dumb-ass promise he’d made to Tomas when they’d first enlisted?

A breeze lanced his damp shirt, making him shiver. Squinting in the bolt of sunlight glancing off the sharply angled tin roof, Levi frowned at the house, which seemed to frown right back at him. An uneasy cross between Victorian and log cabin, the house seemed to slump in on itself, like it was too tired to care anymore. Or had finally succumbed to its identity crisis. And slapping some paint over what was most likely rotting wood wasn’t going to change that.

He could relate.

He waited for an SUV to pass—not much traffic on this stretch of Main Street, the last gasp of civilization before miles of nothing—before getting out of his truck, his boots crunching on asphalt chewed up even worse than usual after last winter’s heavy snow. A hawk keened, annoyed, from a nearby piñon, whose branches tangled with the deep blue sky. From inside the house, a dog exploded into frenzied barking. Val and the child turned, the little girl’s gaze more curious than concerned. Her mother’s, however...

Yeah. Considering she hadn’t exactly been a fan before he and Tommy had enlisted, Levi sincerely doubted that was about to change. Promise or no promise. In fact, what he saw in those blue eyes could only be described as... Well, fierce would work. Pissed off was more likely.

He stopped at the bottom step.

“Levi.” Val hauled the baby out of her little cage, tucked her against her ribs. Close-up, she seemed even smaller, probably not even coming to his shoulders. He remembered, though, how her smile could light up the whole town. Not that she’d ever given him that smile. “Heard you were back.”

He nodded, unsure of what came next. Hating that this puny little blonde was unnerving him more than driving supply trucks along dusty mountain roads that might or might not have been booby-trapped by the Taliban.

“Last week, yeah.”

The baby grabbed hold of a hank of her mother’s hair, tried to stuff it in her mouth. The older girl—seven, he thought—sidled closer; Val looped her arm around the girl’s shoulders as dark eyes exactly like her father’s regarded Levi with that same intense gaze. Had Val ever mentioned Levi to her daughter? Had Tommy?

“For good?” Val said.

“For now, anyway.” The dog’s barking grew more frantic. “So. These are your girls?”

Val shot him an are-you-nuts look, but she played along. “Yes. This is Josie,” she said, giving the older girl’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “And this is Risa.”

Laughter in Spanish. Levi’s heart knocked—Tommy had never even seen his second daughter.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” Val whispered, her eyes shiny.

“I couldn’t get back at the time,” Levi finished through a clogged throat, remembering his shock when he’d gotten the call from Tommy’s dad. “I asked, but they said no.”

Her face said it all: And exactly what good would that have done?

Along with: You can leave now. Except he couldn’t. Because he’d made a promise. One he fully intended to keep.

Whether his best friend’s widow was good with that idea or not.

* * *

Val’d figured she’d run into Levi eventually—his parents didn’t live far, and there was only one halfway decent grocery store in town—but she hadn’t counted on him actually seeking her out.

Of course, her rational side knew Levi Talbot wasn’t responsible for her husband’s death. That particular honor went to whoever had planted that roadside bomb near some godforsaken Afghani village with a name Val couldn’t even pronounce. But if Levi hadn’t joined the army six years ago, Val highly doubted that Tommy—who’d worshipped his best friend since high school for reasons Val had never understood—would’ve decided to enlist, too.

A thought that ripped open barely healed wounds all over again.

“Josie, why don’t you go inside?” she quietly asked, smiling down at her daughter. At least this one might remember her daddy. Although considering how much he’d been gone...

“Mama?”

“Levi and I just need to talk alone for a sec, baby. And don’t let the dog out, okay?”

Josie shot Levi a questioning look before shoving open the stubborn door and wriggling past the dog to get inside. Only after the door clicked closed did Val turn back to Levi, as muscled and tall as Tomas had been slight. All the Talbot boys were built like their father, tough and rough and full of surprising angles, like they’d been hastily hewn out of the mountains holding silent watch over sleepy Whispering Pines. Oh, yeah, Levi Talbot was one good-looking sonofagun, despite badly needing a shave and a half-grown-out buzz cut that wasn’t doing him any favors—

“So you’re living here now,” Levi said. Carefully, like she was a horse who might spook. Val set Risa back in her play yard and handed her a toy, then crouched, gripping the top of the pen.

“Temporarily. Since Tommy’s grandmother moved in with his folks, the family said we can stay as long as we need.” She heard a creak behind her as he came up onto the porch.

“Big place for three people.”

As in, way bigger than Val needed. Five bedrooms, three baths. Dark. Dreary. “Yeah. It is,” she said, straightening in time to see Levi’s gaze flick over the worn porch floorboards, the gap-toothed porch railings.

“Needs a lot of work.”

Despite the situation, a smile pushed at Val’s mouth. “Part of the deal was that I get it fixed up. So they can get top dollar when it goes on the market. After everything they’ve done for me, I couldn’t exactly say no. Besides—” she almost smiled “—it would break Lita’s heart if I wasn’t here.”

Levi’s brows dipped. “They expect you to foot the bill?”

“Of course not. It’s not my house, is it?”

He was staring at her. Not rudely, but intently, his muddy green eyes focused on her like lasers. Exactly like he used to do when they were younger, as though he couldn’t figure her out. Or more likely, why his best friend would prefer her company to his. And damned if it didn’t make her every bit as uneasy now as it did then—

“For pity’s sake, Levi—why are you here?”

If her outburst threw him, he didn’t let on. Although his Adam’s apple definitely worked before he said, “Tommy was my closest friend, Val. I was best man at your wedding. Did you think I’d come home and not check on you?”

Risa began to fuss; Val picked her up again, pressing her lips into her curls, cool and soft against her hot face. “At least you got to come home,” she murmured, then lifted her gaze to Levi’s, the hurt in his eyes almost enough to make her feel like a bitch. Almost. Because there were days when her anger was about the only thing keeping her from losing it. That, and love for her daughters, she thought as Risa yawned, then plugged her thumb in her mouth and settled against Val’s chest.

“And as you can see,” she said, ignoring her stinging eyes, “I’m okay. So. We’re good.”

Levi did that staring thing again, his mouth stubborn-set, the earlier devastation in his eyes replaced by something else Val couldn’t quite put a finger on but knew she didn’t like.

“This place was a wreck fifteen years ago. I can only imagine what it’s like now. Tommy’s kids...” He paused, his nostrils flaring when he took a breath. “They deserve better than this.” Another pause. “And so do you.”

His words hit her. Hard. Not that people hadn’t been kind since her return. But it’d been an uncomfortable kindness mostly, a ragtag collection of mumbled “sorries” and brief, awkward hugs, soon replaced by either gaping silence or a false cheeriness that made her want to scream. With Levi, though—it wasn’t the same, that’s all. Although it wouldn’t be, would it?

“Thank you—”

“You can give me a list, if you want. Might as well start with this porch, though.” He shifted his weight into the next plank over, making it squawk. “Some of these floorboards look pretty sketchy—”

“Levi.”

He looked up, his brow creased. “Yeah?”

“Why?”

It was all she could think to say. Not enough, however, to provoke an answer.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” he said softly, then went down the steps and back across the street, where he got into a black pickup, slamming the door before taking off. Toward his parents’ house, she imagined, where she’d heard via the grapevine he was staying.

Val rearranged the now sleeping baby in her arms and grabbed the wet paintbrush, then went back inside, where she dumped the brush into the chipped kitchen sink before hauling Risa upstairs to put her in her crib. This and Josie’s room were the only ones she’d painted so far: a pale aqua in here, yellow in Josie’s. The gouged pine floors still needed to be redone. Along with a dozen other projects that made Val’s head hurt to think about.

Because the house was a wreck, the victim of decades of benign neglect and an old woman’s failing eyesight. Yes, being so close to Tommy’s parents was a blessing, and the family was being very generous in so many ways. But the idea of going through renovations on top of everything else...

All of which had sounded perfectly feasible when Angelita Lopez had promised the house to them two years ago, for when Tommy came back home.

A thought Val deliberately let linger, as though to toughen her heart. So when this one—she leaned over the crib to finger Risa’s soft curls—asked about her daddy, Val would be able to speak with love, not pain. Less pain, anyway.

Risa flipped onto her back, arms splayed like she was making snow angels. A smile flickered across the baby’s mouth, making Val smile in return, her heart swell. Because life, she sternly reminded herself, was about cherishing what you had, not regretting what you’d lost. About accepting the gifts that came your way. Even those that, at first glance, seemed more trouble than they were worth. Like this butt-ugly house.

Like, say, offers from the last man in the world you wanted to deal with right now—or ever—to help fix up said butt-ugly house.

Val sighed.

Back downstairs, she peeked into the cave-like living room, a hodgepodge of dull, dark wood and mismatched furniture pieces. Eyes glued to the TV screen, Josie sat cross-legged on the sofa, pointy elbows digging into scabbed bare knees. The hound stretched on the cushion beside her, dead to the world, chin and paws propped on the sofa’s arm.

“Is he gone?” Josie asked.

“He is. Whatcha watching?” As if she didn’t know.

“Elf.”

Val smiled. “Again?”

The little girl shrugged. “I like it,” she said, and Val’s heart twisted. On his last leave—two Christmases ago—Tomas and Josie had watched the movie together a million times. Then Josie forgot about it...until she found the DVD when they unpacked.

“This was Daddy’s favorite scene,” her daughter said softly, and Val decided this was part of that toughening-up-her-heart thing. Although if a stupid movie helped her baby still feel connected to her father, she’d take it. Because Val knew those memories would fade, would be replaced by a whole life’s worth of new ones. Oh, there’d be scraps left, of course, but they’d be as soft and faded as the ribbons from Val’s wedding bouquet.

“Fried chicken okay for dinner?”

Josie nodded again, then pulled her knees up to her chin, her far-too-old gaze swinging to Val’s.

“So that was Levi,” Josie said, and Val nearly choked.

“It was. Did...Daddy talk to you about him?”

“Uh-huh,” she said easily, her gaze returning to the TV. “He said if anything happened to him? Levi would take care of us.”

Val could barely hear her own voice for the clanging inside her head. “When did Daddy say that?”

Josie shrugged. “Before he left. The last time. He said if he didn’t come back, Levi would make sure we were okay. Because they were best friends, that Levi always had his back. That...” The little girl frowned, as though she was trying to remember, then smiled. “That, except for you, he trusted Levi more than anyone in the world.”

Val dropped onto the edge of the craptastic armchair at right angles to the sofa, pressing her hand to her stomach as she rode out a new wave of anger. What the hell were you thinking, Tommy? To confide in Josie—who was only five at the time—rather than her...

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...immaterial. 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 (#ulink_124ecb7d-196b-5296-ac29-16ea21e43c8e)

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 was 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.”

Charley chuckled again, the fork trembling when he picked it up. But the flicker of light in his eyes as he looked over at her, then back at the pie—a blob of flaky crust floating in a glistening, purple puddle—made Val’s heart turn over in her chest. The same as it did each time they played out this little scenario, which was pretty much every day.

“You are an angel, girl,” he said softly, releasing a blissful sigh as he took his first bite. “Some guy’s gonna be damned lucky to get you.”

Even as her face warmed, she smiled, ignoring his last comment. She’d told him about Tomas, more than once. Wasn’t his fault the information didn’t stick.

“It’s only a piece of pie, Charley. No biggie.” With another light squeeze to his arm she went on to the ladies’ room, leaning heavily on the sink to gather her wits. Because to be honest, sometimes Val thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, not remembering the stuff that hurt. Except then it’d be like finding out for the first time over and over, wouldn’t it? As awful as it was knowing she’d never see her children’s father again, she couldn’t imagine reliving that initial, searing, disbelieving pain. Whether she’d know she was reliving it or not.

And there went her hyperactive brain again, she thought on a sigh as she pushed away from the sink to go potty. Over the past several hours, between waiting tables and baking, she’d been too busy to think, thank goodness. Especially about how hiring Levi Talbot had left her feeling as if she’d sold her soul. And not only because she still wasn’t sure she hadn’t made a pact with the devil, but because as much as she wanted to stay angry that Levi had returned unscathed while her husband hadn’t returned at all, the haunted look in the devil’s green eyes told her he wasn’t all that unscathed. Not on the inside.

And that could be a problem.

She flushed and went to wash her hands, grimacing at her reflection in the way-too-brightly-lit mirror. Like most men, Levi would probably bluster through whatever was behind that look, or pretend it didn’t matter—Tomas had been a master at it—but Val was guessing Stuff Had Happened. Bad stuff. Which poked at that damned weak spot inside her that, despite everything she’d been through, she’d never been able to toughen up, or even ignore, no matter how badly she’d wanted to. Yeah, caring could be a bitch. The only saving grace was that she imagined the dude would appreciate her sympathy even less than she wanted to feel bad for him—

The door to the tiny bathroom smacked her in the butt as Annie pushed inside. “Sorry, honey—didn’t know you were in here!” Her boss vanished into the stall, calling out as she tinkled, “You know the pies sold out today, right? Except for maybe a half-dozen slices, and I doubt they’ll last until five-thirty.”

“So I gathered. That’s great.”

“You’re telling me.”

The toilet roared behind her employer as she emerged to wash her own hands. As usual, half of Annie’s salt-and-pepper hair had escaped its topknot, floating around her sun-weathered face as she grinned. “Especially since three people bought whole pies. Two cherries, an apple and a lemon meringue. One person bought two,” she said to Val’s brief frown, then cackled. “You’re famous now, girl. In fact, Pam Davis—the Congregational pastor’s wife?—said, thanks to you, she’s given up baking. Although if her husband ever finds out, she’ll have to kill me.”

“My lips are sealed,” Val said, smiling and tossing her rumpled paper towel into the trash before tugging a folded-up printout from her back pocket. She smoothed it out, then showed it to the woman who’d given Val her first job when she was fifteen, cleaning up after school and making sandwiches on the weekends—a job that had given her enough money to buy something new to wear now and then, to go on school field trips. Annie wasn’t the only surrogate mother figure in Val’s life, but she had been the first. Nor was this the first conversation they’d had in the diner’s loo. Many tears had been shed in here over the years, a good many of them onto Annie’s skinny shoulder. “You think the customers would go for this? With my own tweaks, of course.”

Annie shook out her readers, hanging on their glittery chain, before wriggling the earpieces through her hair. “Dulce de Leche crème? Holy crap, you bet.” She plucked off the glasses and let them drop, where they bungeed off her flat chest. “I’m thinking we’re gonna give that Maryanne Hopkins a run for her money. Especially since those cupcakes of hers she swears she bakes herself? I happen to know for a fact she gets ’em from some commercial outfit in Santa Fe. God alone knows what kind of preservatives and what-all they’ve got in ’em. So when can you get a sample pie to me? Please say tomorrow.”

Val smiled. “I’ll try. Depends on how the evening goes. Josie’s been balking about doing her homework, so I may have to ride herd. Spring fever, I suppose. Only one more week of school, thank goodness.”

Annie’s light brown eyes went soft. “How’s she doing?”

“Hard to tell,” Val said on a sigh. “Most of the time she seems okay, but...she’s too quiet. Too serious. She used to be—” she smiled “—gigglier.”

“Give her time,” Annie said gently, then laid a hand on Val’s arm. “And how are you doing?”

“Getting by. Listening to hear what’s next, I suppose.”

The older woman pulled her into a hug, then released her, her hands still on her shoulders. “And that’s all anyone can expect. Especially so soon. Although, for what’s it’s worth? I think you’re doing a fabulous job. Those babies are lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” Val said through her tight throat, adding, as Annie batted away the comment, “No, seriously. I’m...” She took a breath. “It’s good to be home.”

“Lord, I never thought I’d hear that come out of your mouth.”

“Neither did I, Annie. Believe me.”

After another hug, and a promise to bring her boss that new pie the next morning, Val left, blinking in the bright spring sunshine flooding the small town square—the brainchild of some enterprising, and optimistic, soul from who knew how many decades before. The native pines and aspens held their own, of course, but the poor maples struggled to thrive at this altitude, and in fact had been replaced more than once over the years.

Which could also be said, Val supposed as she got in her car, parked at an angle in front of the diner, of the town’s inhabitants. Outsiders loved to visit but generally found the small town stifling. There were exceptions, of course—like plants, some nonnatives adapted better than others. AJ and Annie, for instance, had landed here as newlyweds and never left. And certainly not everyone born here stayed. But most did. Or found themselves pulled back, for whatever reason. Because apparently those roots were harder to kill than the aspens that cloaked the mountainsides in a blaze of molten glory every fall.

After picking up Josie from school a few blocks away, Val continued to her in-laws’ to get the baby, gratitude swelling for the hundredth time for Consuela Lopez’s insistence on watching her granddaughters whenever Val needed. Even groggy, cranky ones, she thought as, with a wail of displeasure, a sweaty Risa catapulted herself from her grandmother’s arms into Val’s.

Underneath a colorful tunic, Connie’s bosom jiggled when she laughed. “Honestly, reynita...your mama will think I’ve been pinching you!”

Shushing her screaming “little queen”—not that it worked—Val smiled. Soft and round and all about the hugs, the redhead-by-choice wouldn’t have pinched an ant if it was crawling on her, let alone her adored—and only—grandchildren.

“She must’ve gotten too hot. It was chilly when she went down for her nap, so I put a sweater on her. But it warmed so quickly this afternoon! If I wanted hot, I’d live in Cruces!” Her mother-in-law shuddered, the typical reaction of most northern New Mexicans to the thought of living in Las Cruces, three hundred miles to the south near the Mexican border and a good twenty degrees warmer than Whispering Pines. After being stationed in the Bowels of Hell, Texas, Val could relate. “Josie,” Connie now said, “go see what’s out on the porch with Gramma Lita! But just look, don’t touch, okay?”

At Val’s raised eyebrows after her daughter scampered off, Connie sighed. “A mother cat and her kittens. Pete found them in the Dumpster behind the store. Can you imagine? Two babies, a tuxedo and a gray tabby. Almost weaned, I’m guessing. Adorable.” Then she got that look. “I don’t suppose...?”

“Forget it. The dog would think I’d brought him a snack.”

“Aww, Radar’s such a sweetie—”

“No.”

Connie shrugged, then tromped over to the fridge for one of the baby’s squeezie applesauce things. “There you go, sweetie... So I hear Levi Talbot’s working over at the house?”

“Jeez, Connie—” Val readjusted the schlurping Two-Ton Tessie against her hip, then glared at her mother-in-law. “A breath between thoughts would be nice.”

“Can’t waste time. Josie could return at any second.”

“Between Angelita and the kittens? I’ll be lucky if I see her again before she’s twenty. And yeah. Levi’s back. But how did you know?”

“He came over last night. To catch up. To talk about the house.”

“He was here?” Val’s mouth tightened. “And you didn’t think to give me a heads-up?”

Connie took a deep breath, and Val braced herself. Six months on they both might have had more of a handle on the waterworks, but the spigots weren’t rusted shut by any means. And now, when Val saw her mother-in-law’s eyes glisten, her own stung in response. Then the older woman sighed.

“Look... I know you had your issues with Levi,” Connie said gently, then blew a short laugh through her nose. “Heaven knows, so did we. From time to time, anyway. The Talbots are good people, and were good parents, but Levi...”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Val said, hoping to hell she wasn’t blushing. “Believe me.”

“So we didn’t understand, when Tomas took up with him, of all people. But you know what? Levi was the most loyal friend Tommy ever had. Sure, the boys pulled some boneheaded stunts—and even Tomas admitted that Levi spearheaded every one of them—but as heart-stopping as those stunts were, they also broke Tommy out of his shell. So all I’m saying is...be kind to Levi—”

“Mama! Look!” Josie ran into the kitchen, a squeaking black-and-white furball clutched to her chest, a pleading look in her eyes Val knew she was gonna have a helluva time resisting. She’d seen the same look in Tommy’s eyes when he brought home Radar.

The same look but different—oh, so different—she’d seen in Levi’s eyes the day before. That morning. The I need something from you look. And to ignore that look, to pretend it didn’t affect her, only made her a big old meanie, didn’t it?

Clearly, the entire world was conspiring against her.

* * *

“Look what I got, Levi!”

About to nail the last new plank on the porch floor, Levi glanced over to see Josie flying toward him, a loudly mewing something—not a skunk, then—cradled under her neck. And Radar, who’d been snoozing in the grass, surged to his feet to investigate the New Thing that had invaded his territory.

“Josie! Oh, jeez... No! Wait!” Val shrieked from the driveway as she tried to get the baby out of her car seat. “We need to introduce them slowly!”

Levi bolted down the steps before the child was traumatized for life. But even as he went to grab the dog’s collar he noticed Radar’s wagging tail...and that he’d plopped himself down in the gravel at Josie’s feet to awoo! awoo! at the kitten, now clutched even more tightly in a wide-eyed, clearly terrified, Josie’s arms. Levi crouched beside the dog, curling his fingers around the collar, anyway.

“He just wants to be friends,” Levi said gently, his gut twisting at how much the little girl looked like her daddy. “Why don’t you let him sniff the kitty? It’s okay, I’ve got him.”

“You sure?”

“We had cats and dogs all the time when I was growing up on the ranch where my daddy worked. They’re not natural enemies, no matter what people think. I promise—I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Josie shot him a look that rattled him as much as it warmed him. To be truthful, Levi was pretty much clueless about kids. Yeah, he was an uncle three times over, but he hardly knew his nephews, having been away for the better part of the past six years. And girls? They might as well be a whole different species.

So it made his heart swell when the kid sucked in a breath, nodded, then carefully lowered the kitty so the nutso dog could check him, or her, out. At the sound of gravel crunching, Levi glanced up to see Val with the baby, clearly holding her breath. And yet, if she’d let Josie have the kitten, deep down she must’ve believed it’d work out, right?

That, or the woman had balls of steel.

Radar nosed the kitten, then pulled back to bay at the poor little thing before resting his snout on his front paws. Waiting.

Levi chuckled. “Put the kitten down—let ’em get acquainted.”

Josie glanced over at her mama, but Val only laughed. Nice sound, that laugh. “Go ahead. Levi’s got it covered.”

Now why those few words sparked such a feeling of confidence, Levi had no idea. Especially since it wasn’t as if he was trying to prove anything to Val or win her approval. But there was a lot to be said for feeling like you were finally doing something right.

Slowly, Josie squatted and released the kitty, who arched and hopped back a whole six inches, hissing about as loudly as you’d expect something who weighed a pound to hiss. Encouraged, Radar inched closer to nose the kitten again, sending it tumbling backward. Tiny thing was real pissed by now, scrambling clumsily to its feet to charge the dog, smacking him squarely on his nose. Radar, being basically dumb as a rock, figured they were best buds now; he lifted his head again to let out a joyous bay, tail wagging the entire time.

By this time they were all laughing at the goings-on, particularly Josie, who scooped up her highly annoyed new pet. “That’s enough, Radar!” she said sternly, then marched up the stairs and on inside, leaving the perplexed dog to jump up and run around in circles, nose to ground, wondering where his new friend went.

Still chuckling, Levi came up to Val and the baby. He got a whiff of something sweet, then another scent that reminded him of his mother’s kitchen the day before Thanksgiving.

“You got her a kitten?”

“Not exactly. My father-in-law brought them home. Little girl, kittens...” She shrugged. “Thank God Connie had already called dibs on the second one, or I’d really be in trouble. And I’d seen Radar with cats before. Dog’s an idiot, and doesn’t know from boundaries, but I knew it’d be okay. Hoped, anyway. And Josie needs something to focus on.”

Speaking of focusing, her gaze wandered to the porch. On a little gasp, she went closer, the baby clinging to her hip. “Oh. Wow. This is...impressive.”

Levi stood behind her, getting another heady whiff of domesticity. “Thanks.”

“I can’t believe you finished it so fast.”

“Wasn’t that big a deal. The foundation was still okay, only needed the boards replaced. Whoever built this originally knew what they were doing.”

“Still. It would’ve taken Tomas forever...” As if that thought had jump-started another one, her gaze jerked to his, an inch away from accusing. She hiked the baby higher on her hip, her voice soft but the anger underlying her words unmistakable. “How come you didn’t tell me you’d gone to see Connie and Pete?”

“You’re mad,” Levi said, just as softly. Her cheek pressed against her mama’s collarbone, the baby grinned up at him from around her thumb, and something squeezed inside Levi’s chest.

“I’m sure as heck not happy,” Val said, snapping him back to the moment. The baby leaned back to pat her face; Val grabbed her chubby little hand and kissed it before looking at Levi again. “If you wanted to know what the budget was, why not ask me? Why go to them?”

“First off, did you expect me not to go see them? And second, we got to talking about the house—”

“I have major issues with people not being up front with me, Levi. So as long as we’re...working together, no sneaking around, no hiding stuff from me. Because if it’s one thing I hate, it’s surprises. Or having to wonder what’s really going on in someone’s head.” She pulled a face. “Drives me batty.”

“It was a judgment call, okay?” he said after a moment, guessing her strong reaction had little to do with the house. “Not to bog you down with details. Like the fact that this budget isn’t going to go very far if you have to pay for labor. You’re stressed, Val,” he said when she glared at him. “More than you probably want to admit. So sue me for wanting to make things easier for you. Like I know Tommy would. Believe it or not, I’m trying my best not to be a jerk here.”

Their gazes tangled for several moments before she sank onto the porch step, the baby still in her arms. Radar sauntered over to give kisses, and she smiled. Then sighed.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“S’okay.” Then he crossed his arms. “But you can’t seriously expect me to share every single thing I’m thinking.”

Another sigh preceded, “Not unless it pertains to me. Or my girls. Because I doubt either one of us really knows what the parameters are for...whatever this is. But as long as we’re honest with each other, maybe it won’t be quite as awkward?”

By rights, her request should’ve made him hugely uncomfortable. Because there was stuff lurking in his head he wasn’t about to share with anyone, let alone someone in Val’s situation. And yet at the same time he found her openness more of a relief than a threat. Especially considering some of the women he’d been with over the years. Might be nice, not having to work his ass off trying to figure out who this one really was.

Even if this situation was only a way to make good on his promise, since he didn’t imagine Tomas would’ve expected it to be open-ended. Or that he and Val should become friends or anything. Besides that, she’d said her “rules” only applied to whatever affected her or the girls. Not what affected him.

“I suppose I can do that,” he said.

Her lips curved. Barely. “So if I ask you something, you’ll give me a truthful answer?”

Hell, he couldn’t even answer that truthfully. But all he said was, “Long as you don’t ask me if what you’re wearing makes you look fat. ’Cause that dumb, I’m not.”

He’d never noticed before the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. Made him feel good to make her laugh. Not that it was much of a compensation for what’d happened. But since, aside from his handyman skills, it was all he had—

“And you can ask me anything, too,” she said.

“Deal.” Although he wouldn’t.

Because, again—that dumb, he wasn’t.


Chapter Three (#ulink_b484d206-3188-51a4-8468-1459c8272f56)

A short time later, Levi clacked the knocker on his oldest brother’s front door, smiling at—over much excited barking—an equally excited “It’s Uncle Levi!” coming from the other side. One of Zach’s boys, probably. Although Josh was there, too; his twin’s mud-spattered four-by-four was parked behind Zach’s even dirtier Chevy pickup. Because around here, the filthiness of one’s truck spoke directly to one’s ballsiness. And that went for the women, too.

Speaking of ballsy...all three of them together for the first time in more than six years? Should be interesting, Levi mused as he took in the almost painfully cute front porch, attached to an equally adorable blue-and-white house, rosebush-choked picket fence and all. Next door stood a toned-down version, beige with black shutters, that housed Zach’s veterinary practice and small-animal boarding facility. Although Levi gathered that a lot of the boarders ended up—

The door opened, and three little boys, a pair of Chihuahuas and one overly enthusiastic golden retriever all scrambled to get to Levi first.

—here.

“Guys, guys...” Laughing, Levi’s fraternal twin made some lame attempt at untangling the exuberance before grabbing Levi in a back-pounding, bone-crushing man-hug. Then Josh held Levi apart, a thousand questions simmering in eyes the same murky green as Levi’s, although his ten minutes’ younger brother’s hair was darker, straighter. Neater. Josh also stood a couple of inches shorter than Levi, a fact that had annoyed the hell out of Josh all through high school. Ten years later, though, what his twin lacked in height he’d more than made up for in rock-solid bulk. Which stood him in good stead, Levi supposed, for working with horses day in and day out.

“You look good,” Josh said, grinning like crazy as he hauled his little boy up into his arms. Even a toddler, Josh’d been the sweet one, Levi the holy terror. He wondered how much that still held true.

“Thanks—”

Zach’s two started messing with each other, making the dogs bark. From the kitchen, Zach called, “Cut it out! Now!” But not before the younger kid got in a final punch.

Ah, good times...

“Hey, Austin,” Levi said over his chuckle. He’d only seen the little guy once before, as a toddler, although Josh had regularly sent pictures. “You don’t remember me, huh?” The little boy shook his head, and Levi smiled. “How old are you?”

The little dude held up four fingers, then immediately tucked his hand back between him and his daddy. Who’d apparently had no issues with stepping up to bat when the boy’s babymama decided to take a hike. Levi’s heart cramped, thinking of Val, also the victim of a parent who hadn’t stuck around.

“Wow. Big guy. Speaking of big...” Levi looked down at Zach’s boys, who’d stopped wrassling with each other long enough to now give Levi matching intrigued looks. He pointed at the oldest, a gangly blond who was probably gonna spend some quality time with the orthodontist in coming years. “You’re... Jeremy, right? You were this big—” Levi held his hand at hip height “—when I saw you last. But I’ve never met this little guy.” He squatted to be eye level to his youngest nephew, redheaded and freckled and blue-eyed—like his mother, Levi thought with another cramp.

“That’s Liam,” Zach said, swiping his hands across his blue-jeaned butt as he came into the living room and Levi stood again. But instead of giving Levi a hug, his oldest brother extended his hand, like they were acquaintances meeting up at a business gathering. Taller than Levi, thinner, Zach had always been the most reserved of the four of them, even as a kid. But clearly he’d become even more so after his wife’s death a couple of years before, the once ever-present, if quiet, spark of humor in his blue eyes faded to almost nothing behind his glasses. “Good to have you home.”

“Glad to be here.”

And he meant it. Even though he might not have, once upon a time, Levi realized as they crowded around Zach’s beat-up dining room table for dinner, and his brothers’ attempts to get spaghetti actually into their sons rather than on the table, floor and each other brought back a flood of memories...and the opportunity for reflection, since actual conversation was pointless.

Despite growing up with parents who were devoted to them and to each other, the four brothers had never been particularly close. As kids they’d all had radically different interests, temperaments, personalities. Still did, most likely. Josh was still the brawny one, and Zach had the brains. And Colin... Well, who knew about Colin, who’d fled Whispering Pines long before Levi. The idealist, their mother had said, her pride over her second born’s accomplishments clearly conflicting with the pain of his rare sightings. And of course then there was Levi himself, still trying to figure out who he was, what he really wanted. How he fit into the big scheme of things.

Even so—the kids finished their meals in what seemed like two seconds flat, at which point their weary fathers released them into the wild—Levi sensed something had shifted since the last time they’d all been together. He wasn’t entirely sure what. And, being guys, it was doubtful they’d actually talk about it. But like maybe whatever had kept them at such odds with each other as kids wasn’t as much of an issue anymore.

“Beers?” Zach said, not even bothering to clean flung spaghetti off the front of his Henley shirt, although he did take a napkin to his glasses.

Calmly sweeping food mess from table to tiled floor—thrilling the dogs—Josh released a tired laugh. “You have to ask?”

Zach pointed to Levi, who nodded. His oldest brother disappeared, returning momentarily with three bottles of Coors, tossing two of them at his brothers before dropping back into his seat and tackling what had to be cold spaghetti. Clearly he did not care.

“This is really good, Zach,” Levi said, and Zach snorted.

“Straight out of a jar, but thanks. No, mutt, that was it,” he said to the retriever, sitting in rapt attention beside him. Sighing, the dog lumbered off to collapse in one of three dog beds on the other side of the room, the Chihuahuas prancing behind to snuggle up with him. The bigger dog didn’t seem to mind. From the living room, somebody screamed. Josh cocked his head, waiting, lifting his beer in mock salute to his brother when there was no follow-up. Zach hoisted his in return.

“You guys look done in,” Levi said, which got grunts—and exhausted grins—from both of them. Zach rubbed one eye underneath his glasses, then sagged back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he chewed.

“Honestly? I can’t remember not being tired. But it’s just life, you know?” The last rays of the setting sun sliced across the table, making it hard to see his brother’s eyes behind the lenses, but his smile had softened. “Either you deal with it or you go under. Speaking of which...” He leaned forward to scoop in another bite of spaghetti. “Dad says you’re helping Val Lopez fix up her house?”

“Some, yeah. Although it’s not her house, it’s Tommy’s grandmother’s. The family’s only letting her live there.”

“For how long?” Josh asked.

Levi turned to his twin, seeing sympathy in his green eyes. Although they hadn’t all hung out together much in high school—no mean feat with such a small class—Josh knew Tommy, of course. And Val. Levi doubted, however, his brother had been aware of everything, since he’d kept a pretty tight rein on his feelings. Not to mention his mouth. “As long as she needs.”

“How’s she doing?”

This from Zach, who knew more than anyone what it felt like to lose a spouse, especially long before you expected to.

“All right, I think.” For a moment—if that—the thought flashed that his brother and Val should get together, do a miniature Brady Bunch thing with their kids. Or even Josh and Val, for that matter. Except hot on the heel of those thoughts came Oh, hell, no. Like a freaking sledgehammer.

“What about you guys?” he said. “How’re you balancing it all?”

His brothers shrugged in unison. “Can’t speak for doofus over there,” Josh said, reaching for his beer, “but I don’t know that I am. Doing my best, but...”

“Yeah,” Zach said. “Same here. Especially juggling the child care situation. Mom helps when she can, absolutely, but since you never know when one of her clients might go into labor, that’s not a sure thing. And Dad...”

Josh sighed, and Levi frowned.

“I thought he was okay?”

“Oh, he is,” his twin said. “Doesn’t mean he’s up to herding three little boys under the age of seven. Hell, he didn’t when we were little. No, seriously, Leev—can you remember him ever taking care of us on his own?”

“He used to take us fishing. And riding. And—”

“When we were older, yeah. Not when we were—” somebody bellowed “—this age. That honor, he left to Mom.”

“So what do you do?”

Zach shrugged, his mouth pulled down at the corners. “There’s a church day care, but it’s only part-time. So we let ’em hang with us, when we can.” He exchanged another glance with Josh. “Pawn ’em off on Gus, sometimes.”

“Gus?” Levi belted a laugh. Gus Otero had been a fixture at the Vista Encantada—the ranch where he and his brothers had grown up—forever, first as a hand, then as the cook/housekeeper. Hell, the four of them had probably spent more time in Gus’s kitchen than their own, and the tough old bird had never taken crap off any of them. But the man had to be nearly eighty by now.

“Don’t laugh,” Josh said. “I’d put my money on Gus before one of those fancy trained nannies any day. Even so...”

Josh took another gulp of his beer, then lowered his voice and said to Zach, “This isn’t what either of us signed up for, is it?” A rhetorical question, apparently, since he didn’t wait for a reply. Levi, however, noticed his older brother’s deep frown as he stared at his bottle before Josh quickly added, “Don’t get me wrong, Austin’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Doesn’t mean it’s not a pain, trying to make the pieces fit. Or hard not to feel resentful, sometimes, that his mom didn’t keep her part of the bargain.”

Knowing that Josh had never been married to Austin’s mother, it took Levi a moment to work up the nerve to ask, “So...it wasn’t an accident?”

Josh barked out a laugh, then looked at Levi in a way he’d never done. “I know—when we were kids, you were always considered... Well, I don’t want to say the bad one, but definitely the one more likely to get into trouble. So I did my level best not to. Then you left and maybe I didn’t feel the need to compensate for your behavior anymore?” He took a swig of his beer. “And I may have gone a little nuts.”

“A little nuts?” Zach muttered, and Josh shot him the evil eye. Then sighed.

“Okay, a lot nuts. Especially when it came to women. Not that there were dozens—”

“Which would be tricky,” Zach put in, “considering where we live.”

“Would you let me tell my story, for cripes’ sake? Anyway. Then I met Austin’s mother, and even though we were being careful...” Josh shrugged. “The thing is, though, I wasn’t in love with her. Not even close. And frankly the thought of being somebody’s daddy scared me to death. But the thought of Dad’s reaction scared me more. So I asked her to marry me—”

“Like the good boy you always were,” Zach said, half smiling.

“Shut up,” Josh lobbed back, then returned his gaze to Levi. “She actually laughed. But she said she wanted to keep the baby. So we worked out this whole custody-sharing arrangement. Only...”

Josh linked his hands behind his head, his eyes on Austin, quietly building something out of blocks not ten feet away. “Only she left. Like, three years ago? Haven’t heard a word from her since. And then this one...”

Whether because Josh’s nod toward their oldest brother was met with a death glare, or because Austin came over to show off his Duplo masterpiece, Josh apparently changed his mind about whatever he was about to say. Instead he scooped his son into his lap, worry lines vanishing as he focused on his little boy. Then a minor crisis of some sort pulled Zach away from the table to tend to his crying youngest as Jeremy pled his innocence with all the fervor of a TV lawyer, leaving Levi feeling something for his brothers he’d never felt before. Admiration, maybe. Even...tenderness, if a guy was allowed to have such feelings for another dude. Let alone admit them.

For a woman, though, that was something else. Especially a woman dealing with the same issues as his brothers were. Trying to make the pieces fit, wasn’t that what Josh had said?

“So how is it?” Josh said, jerking Levi out of his thoughts.

Levi frowned at his brother. Austin still sat on his lap, making soft explosion noises as he calmly, and repeatedly, smashed his creation against the tabletop. “How is what?”

“Seeing Val again.” When Levi didn’t answer right away, Josh chuckled. “Not exactly a secret, bro. How you felt, I mean.”

So much for his brother being in the dark. “Do the others know?”

“Zach and Colin?” Josh shook his head, giving Austin’s curls a quick kiss as the little boy slid off his lap and climbed into Levi’s. “At that point, they didn’t even want to acknowledge our existence. But you and I shared a room. Kinda hard to escape your moping.”

“I did not—”

“Yeah. You did. And after Tommy and Val started going together...” Josh’s head wagged. “So sad.”

Levi’s sigh stirred his nephew’s curls, making the little boy slap his hand on top of his head, vigorously rubbing the spot like it stung.

“That tickles!”

“Sorry, dude,” Levi said with a soft laugh, hoisting the slippery kid more securely onto his lap before meeting his brother’s gaze again. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, it was. So?” When Levi didn’t answer, Josh picked up his fork, dinging it softly against the side of his bowl for a moment before saying, “I have no idea what you’ve been through these past six years.” The fork clanged back into the bowl before Josh folded his arms over his chest and met Levi’s gaze again. “But I’m gonna guess it wasn’t exactly a hayride. Then Tomas...” His cheeks puffed as he exhaled, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, you probably don’t need any more complications right now.”

Austin wriggled off Levi’s lap to run back into the living room. Smiling slightly, Levi watched him for a moment, then looked back at his twin. “You’re probably right,” he said, taking another sip of his now-warm beer, which burned his throat as he swallowed. “Then again, who does? So what’re the options? Run? Or deal? And you of all people,” he said, nodding toward the living room, “should know what I’m talking about.”

A long moment passed before Josh pushed out a half laugh. “Got me there,” he said, then snagged Levi’s gaze in his again. “Still. Be careful, okay?”

“Fully intend to,” Levi said, tilting the bottle to his lips again, only to think if there was a quicker road to hell, he didn’t know what it was.

* * *

That night, Val tucked Josie into the old twin bed that had once belonged to one of Tommy’s aunts; the maple-spindled headboard softly gleamed in the light from the bedside lamp. This was the smallest bedroom, one of three carved out of the steeply pitched attic sometime in the 1960s. But Josie had immediately laid claim to it, clearly taken with the skylight window with its unencumbered view of the night sky. Not to mention it was the perfect hideaway when, as Josie put it, her brain got too full and she needed to be alone to empty it.

Bending over to give Josie a kiss, Val smiled when a soft squeak alerted them to the kitten’s arrival; a moment later the tiny thing clawed up onto the bed to snuggle against Josie’s side, motor going full throttle.

Val sat on the bed’s edge, reaching across her daughter to pet the kitten, who tried to nibble her fingers. She chuckled. “Looks like somebody’s settling right in.” Risa, bless her, had sacked out an hour ago and probably wouldn’t be heard from again until the next morning. “You decide on a name yet?”

“I’m kinda waiting for her to tell me. Or him.” Josie frowned. “How do you know whether it’s a boy kitten or a girl kitten?”

“It’ll be plain soon enough, trust me. In the meantime, maybe pick something that could go either way?”

“I guess, huh?” Radar plodded into the room to rest his muzzle on the bed, looking concerned. And confused. Because he had to sleep in his crate in the kitchen. The kitten all but stuck its tongue out at the dog before curling up even more tightly against Josie’s hip. The little girl almost giggled, then looked up at Val with huge dark eyes.

“I like Levi. He’s nice.”

“He is,” Val said. Sincerely even. Watching the man earlier as he patiently sorted out the dog and cat, how gentle he was with Josie, had definitely made her look at him in a different light. Maybe not a light she wanted to see him in, but nobody knew better than she that you don’t always get a say in these things. So now she smiled and said, “And I think Daddy would have been glad you got to meet his best friend.”

Petting the kitten, Josie frowned. “Was Levi your friend, too?”

“Not really, no,” Val said, figuring it was only fair she live up to the mandate she’d given Levi. “Frankly, I thought he was kind of a goofball when we were younger. Although so was your daddy, so...”

Josie giggled again, with a little more oomph, then yawned. “Were you?”

“A goofball?” Val shook her head, then winnowed her fingers through Josie’s waves. “I was much too busy being serious,” she said, making a snooty face, which made Josie laugh again. One day, maybe, she’d tell her daughters about her own childhood, but that day was way off in the future. Right now it was about them, about the present, not the past. And certainly not about Val’s past. “I’d like to think I’ve loosened up some since then, though.”

“Well, I think you’re just right,” Josie said, and Val’s chest ached. How was it possible that she somehow loved her babies more every day than she had the day before? And she prayed with all her heart that this one not lose sight of that amazing combination of sweetness and smarts and silliness that made her one incredible little kid.

“Well, I think you’re just right, too,” she said, giving her oldest daughter a hug and kiss. “You and Risa both.”

The same as she’d believed Tomas was just right, she thought as she—and the reluctant hound—left the room, making sure the door wasn’t closed all the way. Someone else who was sweet and smart and silly, who’d filled up a hole inside her she hadn’t even known was there. Or at least wouldn’t admit to. And she could still, even after all this time, remember when she first realized there this was someone who got her, someone she could trust without a moment’s hesitation. She’d never doubted his love. Or believed he’d ever give her a reason to. The way he’d looked at her, with that mixture of gratitude and amazement—that had never changed. And that, she would miss for the rest of her life.

But she’d also thought she understood him, that they were on the same page about what they wanted, what their goals were. Except then—

Stop. Just...stop.

Pulling her hoodie closed against the evening chill, Val went back down to the cramped kitchen to make herself some hot chocolate, gather the ingredients to make this pie, the dog keeping her hopeful company. She poured milk into a mug and set it in the old microwave on the disgusting laminate counter, berating herself for letting her thoughts go down this path. Because she knew full well she’d only get sucked right back into the rabbit hole of hurt and depression she had to fight like hell not to go near, for the kids’ sake.

But the nights were hard, silent and long and lonely, those thoughts whistling though her head like the wind in a cemetery.

The microwave beeped. She dumped Nesquik into the mug, swearing under her breath when half of it landed on the counter, the minor aggravation shoving her into the rabbit hole, anyway. And down she went, mad as hell but helpless to avoid it. Yes, her husband’s work—work he loved and was good at—had been work that had saved probably countless lives. But it wasn’t fair, that after everything she’d been through, everything she’d thought she’d finally won, that she’d had to spend so much of the past six years with her heart in her throat.

That he’d made her a widow before she was thirty.

Val shut her eyes, not only against the pain, but the frustration of not being able to get past it, to appreciate her husband’s sacrifice. Dammit, everything Tomas did was for other people. Why couldn’t she feel more proud of him? Why, no matter how hard she tried, couldn’t she feel something more than that he’d abandoned them, broken his promise to her, to their children?

Hideous, selfish thoughts she didn’t dare admit to anyone. Ever.

Radar nosed her hand; her eyes wet, she smiled down at that sweet face, a face she wouldn’t even be looking at if Tomas hadn’t rescued the dog. Much like he’d rescued Val. She couldn’t imagine—didn’t want to—what her life would have been like if he hadn’t. She wouldn’t have the girls, for one thing. Or his parents, who’d welcomed her as their own from the first time Tomas brought her home to meet them. And yet as grateful as she was for all of that—as in, her heart knew no bounds—none of it made up for what she’d lost.

For what—she took a sip of the hot chocolate, the taste cloying in her mouth—her husband’s friendship with Levi Talbot had stolen from her.

And because the person she was the most honest with was herself, that was something she doubted she’d ever get over.

The haunted look in those murky green eyes notwithstanding.


Chapter Four (#ulink_1fc4d04e-a151-5563-9f6d-a7abbcb604f1)

“That should do it,” Levi said, testing the new kitchen faucet a couple of times to make sure it didn’t leak. He turned to see Val standing beside him in a baggy T-shirt and even baggier jeans, arms crossed and bare mouth set, as usual. Behind her at the kitchen table Josie was drawing—the little girl tossed him a grin that punched him right in the heart—while Risa pushed and batted at things on her walker, making a helluva racket. And sprawled in the middle of the crappy linoleum floor was the dog, softly whoop-whooping in his sleep.

“Thanks,” Val said, refusing to meet Levi’s gaze. “Did you put the receipt in the can?”

“I did. And you don’t have to keep asking—I’m a quicker study than you might think.”

She might’ve smiled, but she still wouldn’t look at him. So he glanced around the kitchen instead as he clunked and rattled his tools back in their metal box. In the past week, besides finishing up the porch, Levi had replaced a couple of the worst windows on the side of the house that got the most brutal winds, installed three new ceiling fans and changed out the disintegrating faucets. Except for the porch, all Band-Aid-type stuff until Val stopped dragging her feet about the more major projects. Like a sorely needed kitchen remodel. Hell, half the cabinets didn’t even close anymore, and the laminate counters were completely worn through in places. However, since Val seemed loath to talk to him for more than a minute at a time, there was no telling when that—or anything else—might actually happen.

So he prodded. A skill he’d inherited from both his parents, apparently.

“You decide yet what kind of cabinets you want?”

He heard her sigh. “Keep going back and forth between white and cherry. Or maybe maple?”

“And the counters?”

“Butcher block. Or quartz.” She pushed out another breath. “The family said it’s up to me, but...” Levi glanced over to see her bony shoulders hitch. “What’s the hurry, right?”

“Although you might as well take advantage of free labor as long as you can. Since I don’t know how long I’m gonna be around.”

Her brows, as pale as her hair, dipped. “I can afford to pay someone, Levi. I could afford to pay you. I’ve got my own money—”

“And you’ve got plenty better things to do with that money.” Meaning Tommy’s life insurance. As if there was any way in hell he’d take that. “Like put it away for the girls. For college or whatever. This is my gift, Val. To all of you. So let it go.”

She paused. “And how long... I mean—”

“Until I’m done or you throw me out. Whichever comes first.”

Pressing fingers into the base of her skull underneath her ponytail, she looked away again before offering another half-assed smile. “Well. Okay. Thanks.”

“So I take it you’re not throwing me out?”

“No. Not yet, anyway.”

“Then we’re good,” he said, even though they weren’t. Not by a long shot. He started toward the front door. The dog didn’t even bother to get up. Lazy butt mutt. “But since we can’t get going on the kitchen until you make a few decisions,” he said, facing her, “I may as well start digging up those dead bushes out front on Monday. Maybe we could go over to the nursery, pick out something to replace them?”

“Oh, um...no, that’s okay, I’ll take the girls one afternoon. That’ll save you some time, right?”

It was no skin off his nose whether they went to the nursery together or not. Especially since she was right, it would save time. But what rankled was how obvious she was being, that she didn’t want to be around him.

No, what rankled was why he even gave a damn. But all he said was, “Sure, no problem,” then called back down the hall, “Bye, Josie!”

“Bye, Levi! See you on Monday?”

“You bet,” he said, then walked through the door, across the newly stained porch and out to his truck, feeling unaccountably pissed.

Again.

At first, Levi thought maybe her reluctance to move forward was because the house wasn’t really hers. Except he eventually realized it wasn’t the house she was avoiding talking about as much as it was him she was avoiding talking to. So he’d apparently imagined things thawing between them, when he’d made her laugh...when he’d thought he’d caught her looking at him like maybe he wasn’t quite the slimeball she remembered.

Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be the first time his imagination had played tricks on him. Not that she was snotty to him or anything, but she was cool. Careful. What he didn’t get was why that bugged him. Especially since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d given a rat’s ass whether or not somebody approved of him. Even so, he wouldn’t mind hearing that laugh again.

Being the cause of it.

Hell.

He pulled up in front of the nondescript ranch-style house his folks had been living in for the past year, a gift from Dad’s old boss after his father’s heart attack two years before forced him into early retirement. But the squat little house with its brown siding and white shutters seemed too small and plain to contain his parents’ boisterous personalities. Too...ordinary. Heart attack or no, Levi doubted Dad would go gently into that good night. And for sure his mother never would, he thought with a soft laugh. But he supposed it would do.

His father was making sandwiches in the kitchen—bright, cheery, reasonably updated—when Levi got home, so he guessed Mom was on call. But since Billie Talbot had been a midwife ever since her boys had been old enough to fend for themselves, this was hardly the first time Dad had been left to his own devices.

Half smiling, Levi dumped his toolbox by the back door. “Dad. Really?”

Heavy white eyebrows raised, Sam Talbot turned toward Levi, a slice of bologna dangling from his fingers. He’d definitely lost weight after his scare, but the vestiges of a beer gut still hung over belted jeans. “What?”

“You could at least fire up the grill.”

“Doc said I should avoid too much charbroiled meat.”

“But bologna’s okay?”

“It’s chicken. Or turkey. One of those. Disgusting, but at least on the approved list. Zach said you guys got together for dinner the other night?”

“We did.”

“How’d it go?”

“It went fine.” He chuckled at his father’s side eye. “We’re all grown up now, Dad. We can be around each for more than five minutes without coming to blows.”

“Those boys of theirs...they’re something else, aren’t they?”

“They are that.”

Levi was grateful for the easy, ordinary conversation, one that would’ve never happened a dozen years before. So unlike that excruciatingly long stretch when he and his dad never quite saw eye to eye. About anything. If Dad took one side, Levi invariably latched on to the other. In fact, he’d once heard his mother tell someone at church—laughing, at least—that Levi had been born fighting the world. Unlike his brothers, had been the unspoken addition to that sentence, who’d never seemed to struggle like Levi did to live up to their father’s high standards.

Not that Dad had ever actually said, “Why can’t you be more like them?” but Levi hadn’t been blind to the frustration in those smoky-gray eyes. Problem was, he’d had no idea how to do that. Hell, at that point he hadn’t clue one how to be himself—or what that even meant. Even now he wasn’t entirely sure if one of the reasons—among many—he’d enlisted was to prove something to himself or his dad, but considering how much better things were between them since Levi’s return, he’d achieved his goal. He and Dad might still be feeling their way with each other, but he knew his father was proud of him.

Levi opened the fridge to get a beer—light, of course, nothing else allowed in the house—spotting the defrosted, already seasoned chicken breasts sitting on a plate, right at eye level. Where, you know, even a man wouldn’t miss them. “There’s chicken in here, ready to go. Real chicken, I mean. Why don’t I cook ’em up for us—”

“And I swear if I eat one more piece of chicken I’ll start clucking.”

Levi looked over at the sandwich. Piled high with the fake bologna. “But...” He sighed. “Never mind,” he said, then pulled out the plate of chicken. Although frankly he’d kill for a steak. Or a hamburger. But these days the animal protein offerings at Casa Talbot were limited to things with feathers or fins. Didn’t seem fair to torment his father by bringing home something the poor man couldn’t have. So pan-broiled chicken it was.

For the third time this week.

“So how’re things progressing with the house?” Dad asked, sitting at the table with his sandwich and a glass of low-fat milk as, with much clanging and banging, Levi wrestled the cast-iron frying pan out of the stove’s bottom drawer.

“Okay.” He clunked the pan onto the gas burner. “Needs a boatload of work, though.”

“I can imagine. Place was falling apart thirty years ago.”

“You were inside it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dad took a bite of the sandwich, made a face and grabbed his milk glass. “Pete Lopez and I used to hang out some, when we were kids. When we could, anyway, when he wasn’t working for his dad at the store and I wasn’t out at the ranch with mine.”

As usual, Levi heard the slight regret in his father’s voice, that out of four sons only one had followed in the family tradition of working at the Vista. But the ranching bug had only bitten Josh, who’d taken over as foreman after his dad’s retirement. Didn’t take a genius to figure out his father hated that a single wonky organ—albeit an important one—had ripped away from him the one thing, outside his wife and sons, he most loved.




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