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