When Summer Comes

by Brenda Novak

  “Oh, right,” she said. “Of course. But you couldn’t have slept more than a few hours last night. Surely, you’ve got to be tired.”

  He pulled his gaze away from Baxter. “I am now. But I needed to work.” He handed her a stack of bills. “That’s part of what I owe you.”

  “They paid you in cash?”

  “That was our agreement. It’s just day labor, whenever Joe needs me.”

  Of course. At least he was still in Whiskey Creek. “Levi, this is my friend Baxter. He’s a stockbroker in San Francisco.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Baxter played it serious, but then he flashed Callie an insider’s smile, as if to say he could see why she was so taken with this guy.

  In an effort to keep Levi and Kyle from noticing, Callie hurried to divert them. “Have you eaten?” she asked, and stood to scramble some more eggs. Kyle had cooked egg burritos. She could easily assemble the ingredients for another one.

  “I can’t eat yet. I’m too dirty.”

  “The only soap I have that might be strong enough to get the grease off your hands is dishwashing liquid, which is right here. Go ahead and use that side of the sink. You can shower after.”

  As he ran the water to get it hot, she cracked four eggs into a bowl.

  “So...Joe hired you?” Kyle asked. “On the spot?”

  Levi spoke above the running water. “He wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, if that makes you feel better.”

  Kyle scowled. “It doesn’t make me feel anything. I’m just surprised.”

  “Why, is he one of your friends? Was giving me a job some kind of betrayal?”

  “Not really.”

  “Joe is Gail’s brother,” Callie explained. “She’s the woman from that picture at my studio, remember?”

  Understanding dawned. “The redhead who married the movie star.”

  “That’s her.”

  Baxter leaned back, holding his water glass. “If Joe wasn’t excited about the extra help, how come you’ve got his logo on your chest?”

  “It’s Saturday. He was slammed. And he had a BMW that was giving him problems. Owner brought it back while I was talking to him, said there were still times it wouldn’t start, even after several attempts to fix it. I had a few ideas on how to solve that problem.”

  “How’d you do it?” Baxter asked.

  “They’d already replaced the fuel pump. It wasn’t the starter or the alternator. Far as I’m concerned, that leaves the central computer.”

  Kyle pushed his plate away. “And was that it?”

  Levi dried his hands on the towel Callie provided. “We’ve ordered one. We’ll see when it comes in.”

  After hanging the towel on its hook, Callie poured the eggs into a skillet. “I thought...I thought maybe you’d gone.” She couldn’t look at him when she said this. She was too afraid he’d read the embarrassment she felt about what had happened between them earlier. Now that he was back, she wasn’t going to let things drift in that direction again. If she was careful, she could still enjoy the time she had left with him.

  “I can’t go anywhere,” he told her. “Not until we find out how that fire got started.”

  “You think it was Denny Seamans.” Kyle said this.

  “I do,” Levi responded without a heartbeat of hesitation. “Makes no sense that a random fire would break out when and where it did. There was nothing in the barn that could’ve caused it. Nothing flammable. No one smoking. No lightning.”

  “Sometimes fires start for odd reasons,” Kyle said.

  Levi took a seat at the table. “This wasn’t one of those times.”

  Kyle slid the pitcher of lemonade toward him as Callie brought him a glass. “Then I should thank you.”

  Levi seemed confused as he poured himself a drink. “For what?”

  “For caring enough to stay with Callie. For making sure she isn’t here alone.”

  The two men stared at each other for a second, then Levi nodded and Kyle smiled. It was a small concession, on both their parts, but the exchange meant a lot to Callie.

  “See what a good friend he is?” she said to Levi, and was glad that Kyle had proved it once again.

  Maybe they really could forget the mistakes they’d made this year.

  * * *

  Callie was careful not to touch Levi when she passed him. She made a point of not letting their hands brush as she started making his bed on the couch and he came over to help spread out the blankets. She even avoided meeting his gaze, because she could tell he had something to say, that he was searching for the right words, and she was fairly confident she didn’t want to hear it. She’d already had another difficult conversation with her parents, one in which she’d had to assure them—several times—that the barn could be rebuilt and she’d be safe. She certainly didn’t want to talk about anything else that would be painful, especially what had happened when she’d put on that silly bustier. She’d been foolish to buy it in the first place. If Levi was interested in her, he would’ve let her know. And even if that was the case, it would be heartless to draw him any closer. Why would she set him up to suffer through yet another traumatic event? She could very well die while he was still around.

  She was satisfied with having him back, she decided. With being able to spend a little more time with him. She wasn’t going to do anything to scare him off. The leaving would come soon enough. He’d made his intentions clear, yet again, during dinner, when he mentioned that his work at the Gas-N-Go was only temporary.

  “Do you think you’ll need a heavier blanket?” she asked. “It’s cooling off a bit tonight.”

  “No, that’s fine,” he replied.

  “Okay.” She called Rifle, whom she’d brought inside after supper. Then she curved her lips in a polite smile, one she might bestow on any guest. “Get some sleep. Hopefully, we won’t have any trouble tonight.”

  “We could be in a world of hurt if we do. The way I feel right now, I’m not good for anything.” He returned her smile with a tired one of his own.

  “You’ll feel better in the morning. We’ll be fine until then. I’ve got my pellet gun, after all,” she added with a chuckle. Then, with Rifle at her heels, she turned and fled toward her room—but Levi stopped her before she could get very far.

  “Callie?”

  She clenched her hands as she looked back. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Please, don’t apologize.” She conjured up that same polite smile. “I respect your...your position on that. Actually, I don’t know what came over me. I’m embarrassed that I’ve been so forward.” Her laugh sounded a bit awkward to her own ears, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. “I have no excuse except...I haven’t really been myself lately. There’s...there’s a lot going on in my life.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Callie. I’m flattered to think you might want to be with me.”

  “That’s kind of you to say. Thank you for...for being such a gentleman.” She started to hurry away again, but he continued to talk, and courtesy demanded she stop and listen.

  “It isn’t that you’re not...attractive to me,” he said. “You realize that, right?”

  She raised one hand. “Really, you don’t have to say any more. I was completely out of line. I just...misread what you were feeling and assumed too much. So I’m the one who owes you an apology for...for putting you on the spot like that. Let’s forget it ever happened. I have a better understanding of the situation now, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

  When he muttered a curse, she didn’t know how to respond. But no way was she going to question him about it. She desperately wanted to drop the subject. “See you in the morning.”

  “You didn’t misread anything,” he called after her.

  She’d reached her bedroom door, so this time she didn’t turn around to face him. “Levi, please believe me. Everything’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it. Nothing like that will ever happen again. Ok
ay?”

  He made no comment.

  Grateful for the reprieve, she closed the door. Then she went into the bathroom, cut up that bustier and threw it and every last condom in the trash.

  17

  Because it was Sunday, Callie thought the arson investigator wouldn’t come until the following day, but he showed up bright and early. Callie didn’t recognize him. He was a small man, compactly built, who came from the county. He didn’t say much to her. Chief Stacy insisted she and Levi stay out of the way, so they had almost no interaction with the man at first. The police chief was the one who showed him around. But they didn’t have to wait long for his opinion. It took the investigator only a couple of hours to decide what had started the fire. Then he sought them out to say that an accelerant had been used, probably gasoline, which could’ve been ignited with a match.

  “Arson,” Callie repeated, shocked in spite of her assumptions.

  “Without a doubt,” he said. Then he asked them to recount exactly what had occurred last night. As soon as they finished, Chief Stacy pulled him aside again and they spoke in low voices. She and Levi were left standing near the charred remains of the barn.

  “I had a feeling,” she murmured. “But I still don’t want to believe it.” How could someone do such a thing—even someone as angry and vengeful as Denny Seamans? What if Levi had been killed in the blaze? Had Denny really intended to take a human life? He knew, from when he’d been over before, that Levi was staying in the barn....

  Levi squinted as he looked over at the other men. “What I want to know is whether they’ll be able to prove who did it. Gasoline and matches are very common substances. Everyone has access to them, so that hardly narrows the list of suspects.”

  “Maybe someone saw Denny’s truck last night.”

  “Out here? Who’d be up at that time of night?”

  “It’s possible,” she said.

  “But not likely.”

  “Which means he’ll go unpunished.”

  “Which means he’ll be free to try something else.”

  “One fire is bad enough.” She rubbed the goose bumps from her arms. “What do we do?”

  “Keep our eyes open.”

  Callie nodded. She was chilled by the thought of further trouble. But there was one bright spot—as long as Levi was worried about her safety, he’d probably stay.

  * * *

  When someone knocked on the door in the late afternoon, Levi figured it might be the arson investigator, back with a few questions or wanting to take a second peek at the barn. Or Chief Stacy. Had he finally discovered Levi’s true identity? Was he here with an arrest warrant?

  It was neither. He held Rifle back as he opened the door to find a big, barrel-chested man, salt-and-pepper hair buzzed short, on the stoop, scowling in the direction of the damaged barn.

  “Look at that,” he said the moment Levi opened the door. “Just about destroyed the whole thing.”

  Levi didn’t know what to say. He had no idea who this was, until the man looked directly at him. Then something about his face reminded Levi of Callie—probably the dimples on either side of his mouth.

  “You must be...Callie’s father?” he guessed.

  “That’s right.” He squatted to acknowledge Rifle, who was obviously excited to see him, then focused on the stitches snaking down Levi’s arm. “And you must be the fellow who was attacked by those dogs.”

  “That would be me.”

  He straightened. “A terrible experience. Sorry about that.”

  After Chief Stacy had made it clear that Levi wasn’t welcome in Whiskey Creek—that he wasn’t even good enough to stay for a week or two—Levi hadn’t expected Callie’s parents to be friendly. If anyone had a right to doubt him, to be leery of him, it was them. But Levi quickly decided that her father never had a bad thought about anyone. It just wasn’t in his nature to be skeptical or withholding, and that was apparent from his very first words.

  “Boone Vanetta.” He stuck out his big paw so they could shake. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” Levi responded.

  He leaned to the left so he could look around Levi and into the house. “My daughter here somewhere?”

  Levi shook his head. “No, sir. I’m afraid not. She had to run into town. Her assistant at the studio needed a hand.” Actually, Callie hadn’t said much about where she was going. She’d told him she had a few errands, but he’d heard her on the phone with Tina and knew she was stopping by there. Tina didn’t usually work on Sunday, Callie said, but Monday was full of appointments, and she had to get ready for them.

  “Wouldn’t you know we’d pass each other. Isn’t that the way?”

  “Would you like to come in?” Levi ordered Rifle to stay inside and opened the door wider, just in case. He couldn’t imagine that this man was happy to have a complete stranger, a vagrant, at his daughter’s home, but he didn’t seem to be particularly concerned. Levi got the impression that Boone trusted as easily as Callie. Or maybe he was better at reading a man’s intentions than the arrogant chief of police. Maybe he could tell that Levi would never hurt her.

  “For a minute. Damn hot today, isn’t it? Could I get a glass of water?”

  “Of course.” He stepped aside as the big man squeezed into the house.

  “Would you prefer some juice?” Levi asked.

  “If she’s got some.”

  Levi led the way to the kitchen, where he got a glass out of the cupboard.

  “What are you fixing here?” Boone indicated the tools spread out on the floor.

  “There’s been a slow leak under the sink for a while. It’s causing a bit of dry rot. Thought I’d take care of it while I’ve got the time.”

  He nodded. “Nice of ya.”

  “It was nice of your daughter to help me out after the attack.”

  “She’s a gem, that one.” He beamed with pride as he scratched behind Rifle’s ears. “You won’t find a nicer gal anywhere.”

  Levi smiled as he took the pomegranate juice from the fridge; it was about all Callie had to drink. She didn’t stock soda or any alcohol, save the bottle of wine she’d opened for him. From what he could tell, she kept herself on a diet even stricter than his father’s.

  “Thanks.” Boone accepted the glass, downed the juice then pulled a paper towel from the hanger and began mopping the perspiration from his forehead.

  “Have you heard what the arson investigator had to say about the fire?” Levi asked.

  “Callie called after he left. That’s why I came. I wanted to see the damage for myself. Hard to figure out why anyone would purposely set fire to a building.”

  “It happens far too often.”

  “Not here.”

  Levi took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I might be responsible for that.”

  Boone handed him back the glass. “You didn’t set the fire, did ya?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then as far as I’m concerned, you’re not responsible for it.”

  Levi almost couldn’t believe his ears. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I doubt it would’ve happened if she hadn’t stepped up to help me.”

  “She did the right thing. It’s this Denny fella who’s in the wrong. I told her the two of you should come stay with us until Chief Stacy can put that yahoo behind bars, but she won’t hear of it. She said she doesn’t want to bring trouble to our door.” He lowered his voice. “And she has a point. We’d be hard-pressed to get her mother out of the house if someone set fire to our place. That’s why I’m glad you’re here. I’d hate to think of Callie alone now that someone might wish her harm.”

  “Her mother is...ill?”

  “She’s in a wheelchair. Was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a few years back. That disease is a tough one, you know. Some days are better than others.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about it.”

  “I wish to hell it was me instead of her.” As he heaved a deep sigh, Levi had no doubt he was abso
lutely sincere. “But we all have problems,” he went on.

  “Yes, we do,” Levi said.

  Boone sized him up. “You’re a nice-lookin’ fella. No wonder my daughter likes you.”

  Levi chuckled. “She’s not bad herself. But don’t worry, I’ll be moving on soon.”

  “Why would I be worried?”

  Boone had surprised Levi again. “According to Chief Stacy, I’m not to be trusted. He isn’t pleased that I’m even in town.”

  “Chief Stacy is a man with a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, and he does his best to manage it. But he doesn’t know everything. If my daughter likes you, there’s got to be good reason.”

  Guilt for all he’d done—for putting Behrukh in a

  position that had cost her her life and for the way he’d behaved in Nevada—sank deep. Stacy’s suspicions merely angered Levi, tempted him to keep striking back at the world. But a few words from Boone, and Levi wanted to be a better man. “You wouldn’t care if she took up with a vagrant?” he asked.

  Boone’s dimples flashed as he grinned. “If you settled down you wouldn’t be a vagrant.”

  * * *

  “So what are you going to do?” Baxter asked.

  Callie had gone to his house, one of a handful of restored Victorians not far from the heart of town, on her way home from Sacramento. Her doctor had called earlier, just after the arson inspector left, and said he wanted to start her on rifaximin, an antibiotic used to prevent the encephalopathy that could be caused by her disease. She wasn’t sure why he’d be thinking of her on a Sunday, but she knew he took his practice very seriously and hardly ever stopped working. She felt sorry for his family, if he had one. It couldn’t be easy for him to deal with so many critically ill patients.

  After they hung up, she’d had to make up an excuse for Levi so she could drive to the pharmacy where she had her prescriptions filled. She couldn’t use the one inside Nature’s Way—a locally owned grocery store not far from Whiskey Creek—unless she wanted everyone to know about her condition before she found the nerve to tell them. It wasn’t as if she could claim the diuretic spironolactone, or the lactulose, which she had to take four times a day to inhibit the buildup of ammonia in her blood, were for a harmless condition like premenstrual cramps. She was just lucky that she didn’t need beta-blockers. So many people with cirrhosis of the liver developed enlarged veins in the esophagus and bled internally as a result.