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—”
