by Vicki Tharp
Levi tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”
June harrumphed, and her lips got pinched and puckered liked she’d sucked the ever-loving life out of a lemon.
“Clementine,” Levi said, “Say hello to your grandma and grandpa.”
Instead of her usual boisterous hello, Clementine snuggled against Levi’s neck and muttered a soft, “Hi.”
The five of them stood there. Clive in his baby-blue seersucker suit, June in her yellow double-knit polyester, white-gloved hands clutching her matching handbag in front of her. They looked like they belonged back in the fifties, not here in the seventies.
“After you,” Levi said, his arm outstretched motioning Olivia and the Jordans ahead of him.
In the diner, the waitress ushered them into a red vinyl booth. Olivia slid in first with Levi sitting next to her. They put Clementine at the end of the table in a booster seat the waitress brought. Clive ended up across from Olivia and June sat across from Levi, so she could be closer to Clementine.
They looked at the menus in silence and placed their orders when the waitress came back by and dropped off three crayons and a color sheet for Clementine.
“That’s a lot of food for one little girl,” June said as the waitress took their menus and stepped away. “No wonder she’s looking so plump.”
Olivia had to swallow the ‘are you freaking kidding me?’ The words slid back down her throat like rusty razors.
Levi stilled, then sat up straighter and in a voice that seemed much more reasonable than the comment deserved said, “The pediatrician said she’s still below the curve on weight and height. Besides, she doesn’t have to eat everything now. I can take the leftovers back to the camper for later.”
“A camper.” June’s face soured again. “Is that really a proper place for a little girl to live?”
Before Levi could defend himself, Clive jumped in. “A man, a real father, should want the best for his child. Not a camper in a parking lot.”
Levi turned his attention to Clive, the tick at the corner of his jaw the only indication of his annoyance.
“Clementine has a roof over her head, food in her belly, and people who love her unconditionally. That’s what’s best for my child.”
Olivia cocked her head, seeing a side of Levi she hadn’t seen before. Though from what she’d learned about him, his view as his role as a father shouldn’t have floored her. Levi didn’t have a lot, yet Clementine didn’t want for anything. To a man like Levi, amassing material possessions wasn’t his top priority.
A chill settled over the table. June glanced over at Clementine who was busy coloring a horse a dark red, her squiggly lines obliterating the shape of the horse.
“Oh, no, dear.” June took the crayon out of Clementine’s hands. “You color inside the lines.”
June carefully colored a bale of hay, making sure no marks went astray. She handed the crayon back to Clementine who picked another color and started coloring the truck, turning it into a big blob of blue.
“Baby. You’re doing it wrong.” June snatched the crayon out of Clementine’s hands.
Clementine’s smile fell, her lips got pouty, and her sweet blue eyes rimmed with red.
“Leave her be, June,” Levi said, his voice deceptively calm.
June met Levi’s level gaze and handed the crayon back.
“June’s right,” Clive chimed in. “How’s the child going to learn if you don’t show her how to color correctly?”
Levi’s back went rigid, and Olivia’s hand went to his thigh and gave him a supportive squeeze. This was what she’d warned him about. The incessant picking, the toxic nagging, the scalding judgment. He covered her hand with his, and gave it a light squeeze back, relaxing a fraction when he said, “She’s three, Clive. She can color however the hell she wants.”
“Hell, hell,” Clementine said, the smile back on her face.
June clutched at the strand of pearls around her neck, sucking in a scandalized breath. “Well, I never.”
“Pix,” Levi said in his ever-patient tone. “That’s not a nice word.”
The waitress came back with her tray loaded down with food before Clementine could say ‘hell’ another five times and give her grandmother angina. Shame.
They tucked into their food in silence except for the clink of glassware on the table and the squeak of knives across the plates. For a Friday, the lunch crowd was spread thin. The bell on the front door banged and clanked against the glass, and Dusty Wills and a few fellow bulldoggers strode in.
The men found a seat, but Dusty caught Levi’s eye and came over, clapping him on the back. “Afternoon, everybody,” Dusty said with a tip of his hat. Then to Levi said, “I see you found your kid.”
Shit. Olivia needed to shut him down. Fast. “Hey, Dusty, thanks for stopping by, but we’re here with family and—”
“What is he talking about, Banks?” Clive asked.
“You didn’t hear?” Dusty pulled the toothpick out of his mouth. “Lost the kid this morning. Everyone was looking everywhere.”
“Dusty,” Olivia said, “Do you mind?”
The congenial smile slipped from his face, utterly ignorant of the shit storm about to go down. “Yeah, sure. Sorry.” Dusty tipped his hat, but the damage was already done. “Catch you folks later.”
“You lost Clementine?” June asked.
“It wasn’t like that,” Levi tucked his bite of food into his cheek. “She got away from her babysitter and—”
“She could have been trampled by a horse.” June’s hand once again clasped her pearls like a shield.
Under the table, Levi reached for Olivia’s hand. Their fingers linked, and Levi’s grip went tight.
“Or a crazy person could have taken her,” Clive added for good measure.
“It wasn’t the babysitter’s fault, she’s just a kid—” Levi cut himself off. He must have realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.
“How old was she?” June asked.
“Fourteen,” Olivia said, “but she’s mature for her age.”
“How could you be so irresponsible?” June looked at Levi as if he’d left Clementine with an ax-murderer.
Olivia squeezed his hand. He didn’t squeeze back. A blood vessel at his temple throbbed, and red crept past the collar on his shirt.
When Levi didn’t answer, June continued, “I will not have my granddaughter—”
“Enough.” Levi spat the word through gritted teeth as he slammed his open hand on the table. Plates jumped. A fork clattered to the floor. June’s eyes went wide. Clive turned the same shade of red as the vinyl benches, and Clementine screwed up her face and cried.
“Now look what you’ve done,” June said.
“It’s okay, Pix.” Levi stood and took Clementine out of the booster seat. “I didn’t mean to shout.”
June leaned across the table toward Olivia and in a harsh whisper, said, “Is he always this angry and out of control?”
Olivia couldn’t help the bubble of laughter. “You’re kidding me, right?”
But by the contemptuous look on June’s face, she wasn’t in the least bit kidding.
“You coming?” Levi asked Olivia.
Olivia slid out of the booth. “Definitely.”
Clementine burrowed her face into Levi’s neck, and he brushed a tear off her cheek. Then he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed down a wad of cash on the table.
“Sit back down, son,” Clive said as if his age gave him authority. “Lunch isn’t over.”
“No, we’re definitely done here.” Levi started to walk away, then he stopped and tossed two rodeo tickets on top of the cash. To a stunned Clive and June, he said, “The events start at seven. Clementine’s been looking forward to going with you. For her sake, I hope you come.”
* * *
Levi settled into the back of the box, feeling mildly anxious and out of sorts. Not about his upcoming run, but about the fact that Clementine’s grandparents had s
hown up at the rodeo.
Which had almost worried him more than the idea of finding another babysitter for Clementine for the night. One thing was for certain, something had to give. He couldn’t keep passing his kid around to his friends at the rodeo like a hot potato when he had to compete. But clearly, hiring what babysitters he could find hadn’t worked out for him either.
He heard a piercing whistle, and Cooter caught his eye from the box on the other side of the steer. “Ready?”
Levi bobbed his head, and the man running the chute released the steer. As soon as he touched his heels to Chunk’s sides, his horse jetted off, the steer breaking the barrier a millisecond before Chunk. The spectators in the stands roared as Chunk closed in on the steer, Cooter keeping the animal running straight and true.
Levi leaned out of the saddle and dropped into the hole, inches away from dropping onto the steer when he felt a stutter in Chunk’s step. His gelding stumbled and went down in the front, Levi’s unbalanced weight and their momentum sending them rolling.
The next few seconds went by in a blur. A hush went through the crowd. Levi hit the ground, managing to cover his head in time as Chunk crashed down around him. He took a hit to his leg and chest, then opened his eyes only to see Chunk’s rear hoof coming down.
Levi rolled, the edge of Chunk’s hoof thumped the side of his head. Pain skittered around his skull, his ears buzzed, and his vision went wonky, and then his world went black.
When he woke, he still lay in the arena, a firm hand held on his shoulder when he went to roll on his hands and knees.
“Stay still,” Cooter said. “Let them ambulance guys check ya out.”
Levi settled back into the dirt because it hurt his head too much to move. “How’s Chunk?”
“Trotted off sound. Don’t worry ‘bout him none. I’ll take care of him. Worry about yourself.”
The pounding in his head eased, and his vision began to clear. Again, Levi rolled onto his hands and knees, and this time Cooter let him.
“Easy now,” Cooter said as he helped Levi to his feet.
The crowd cheered, and Levi raised a shaky hand to the fans. He swayed and a paramedic running into the arena caught him.
“You need to sit down,” the man said. Levi looked again. Not a man. Not much more than a baby-faced kid.
Levi steadied himself and shook off the helping hand. “I’m fine. Give me a sec.”
Something warm dribbled down the side of his face. He reached up, and his fingers came away covered in blood.
“Here.” The paramedic came up with a handful of gauze squares. “Hold this on there until we can get a better look at it.”
Levi sucked in a breath as the paramedic slapped the gauze onto the wound, but he held it tight to his head. Though he didn’t need it, the paramedic kept a strong hand wrapped around Levi’s bicep as he limped out of the arena.
“The leg bad, too?” the paramedic asked.
Levi didn’t stop walking to work his leg, the pain and the limp already diminishing as he kept moving. “Bruised. Not broken.”
The ambulance had been moved to the alley behind the arena, so he didn’t have far to walk. With a little help, he climbed into the ambulance and sat heavily on the gurney.
The paramedic laid him down, palpating his abdomen for indications of pain and possible internal injuries, then started taking his blood pressure and checking his eyes with a little light that made his head pound even harder.
Olivia walked up to the open rear door of the ambulance. “Hey, you okay?” Her voice wasn’t strained, there wasn’t any trace of distress in her voice.
He knew how bad these things could look from the stands. He appreciated the fact Olivia wasn’t the type of person who got hysterical.
“I’m good.” Levi sat up with a grunt. “A few bruises and a bump on the head. Nothing major. Right, Doc?”
The paramedic made him follow the movement of the retina-melting penlight, then clicked it off—thank God.
With what sounded like reluctance, the kid agreed. “You’ll live.”
“Oh, shit,” Olivia said.
Levi chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d take the news of me surviving so hard.”
“Not that.” Olivia tossed her head toward the threesome approaching them. “It’s Clementine and the Jordans.”
Levi’s pulse kicked up, doubling the pain and throbbing in his head. “Oh, shit’s right.”
The paramedic dabbed at his head wound with a wad of gauze soaked in disinfectant. Levi bit back the string of curse words he wanted to let fly as Clive, June, and Clementine walked up.
“Lebi!” Clementine called out.
“How ya doin’, Pix?”
She squirmed in June’s arms until she had to be put down. Olivia helped Clementine into the ambulance.
She climbed onto the gurney. “Why you bweeding?”
“It’s just a scratch,” Levi said. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” June’s voice had gone shrill. If there had been any coyotes around, they would have started howling. “You could have been killed.”
“June.” Levi bobbed his chin toward Clementine. “Now’s not the time.”
“Have you thought about what would happen to your daughter if you were maimed or k—”
Levi cut her off with a look. “I’m extremely good at what I do. I’m not going to get hurt.”
“You’re already hurt, son.” Levi didn’t need Clive jumping down his throat as well.
“It’s just a few lumps and bumps. I’m good to go, right?” Levi tried pulling the paramedic into the conversation.
The man glanced at the dyspeptic expression on June’s face. “Ah—he—he doesn’t even need stitches.”
“See? All I need is a Band-Aid and I’m good to go.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Work with me, man,” Levi muttered under his breath.
“What do you mean, young man?” June planted her white-gloved hands on her yellow covered hips.
The paramedic gave Levi one of those half-grimace, half-smiles that said don’t-put-me-in-the-middle. Levi was big enough to break this guy over his knee, yet the kid was more worried about a hundred pounds of pissed-off housewife.
“I’m saying he’s had a hard knock to the head. He should at least go to the hospital and get—”
“No hospital.” Levi couldn’t afford a damn trip to the hospital. Especially now that he had another mouth to feed. Besides, he’d taken hits to the head a lot harder than that one. His vision was clear. The pain in his head he could tolerate, and he refused to give June and Clive more ammunition against him.
The paramedic cleaned up the blood from the side of his face the best he could. “Then you need to take it easy for the next few days. Drink lots of fluids, get a lot of rest.”
Easy for the paramedic to say. He looked barely old enough to shave. Levi doubted he had a clue what life was like as a single father to a rambunctious three-year-old.
“Done,” Levi lied. He didn’t have the time to laze around doing nothing, though it wouldn’t do any good to argue.
“We’re taking Clementine,” June said.
“What?” Levi and Olivia said at the same time. His world tilted for a second when he whipped his head around, and the pounding reached a level where it almost became impossible to hide his grimace.
“For the night,” June added. “We’ll bring her back before lunch tomorrow.”
As much as he didn’t want Clementine to go with Mae’s parents, the pounding in his head told him he probably wouldn’t be worth shit tonight. He glanced at Olivia.
She shrugged one shoulder and said, “It’s probably not a bad idea.”
Then he took his daughter’s hand in his, and said in the most positive, most cajoling voice he could drum up, “What do you think, Pix? You wanna have a sleepover with your grandma and grandpa tonight?”
Her smile went wide, and she batted those innocent blue eyes
at him. When she got close to dating age, he was gonna need a big-ass shotgun.
“Sweepober!” She hopped off the gurney and danced around in the tight space. “I’m gonna hab a sweepober.”
Her reaction came as a surprise to him, but maybe Clive and June were only intolerable when adults were around. She’d already spent several hours with her grandparents and seemed perfectly content to spend even more time with them.
He locked eyes with Clive. “I’ll pick her up at seven in the morning. She likes to feed Chunk.”
Then to the paramedic, he said, “We about done here?”
“I need to put a bandage on, and you’re good to go.”
“Give me a minute,” he said to Clive and June, “and I’ll get her pajamas and a change of clothes.”
Olivia patted him on the knee, her hand lingering a beat longer than it should. “Stay put. I’ll take care of it.”
Levi dug his keys out of his pocket—his dick reading much more into the touch than the situation warranted—and tossed them to her. “Thanks.”
He hugged and kissed Clementine goodnight, and Clive gave him the name of the motel and the number of the room where they were staying. Then he watched the four of them walk away.
“Your girl’s beautiful,” the paramedic said as he placed the clean gauze square over the butterfly bandages and wound the roll of bandage material around and around his head.
“She’s a great kid.”
Color infused the paramedic’s cheeks. “I wasn’t talking about the kid.”
Levi opened his mouth to tell the guy that Olivia wasn’t his, but, “I’m lucky to have her in my life,” came tumbling out.
It wasn’t the full truth. But it also wasn’t a damn lie.
* * *
“You didn’t have to wait.” Levi’s voice came out of the dark moments before Olivia saw his form. He moved slow and had a mild limp, carrying his mangled hat in his hand.
She stood up from his camper step and held out his keys. “I wanted to wait so I could give your keys back.”
He tossed them through the open door onto Clementine’s bed. “You could have left them inside. No one would have bothered my stuff. I don’t even know why I bother locking it.”