“Fruit, mostly,” she said after a moment. “Since I knew they’d keep until dinner was over.”
She let him finish setting the pies out on the table. Apple. Blueberry. Cherry. Peach, he thought. More than one person stopped to admire them, make Val promise to save them a slice. Smiling, she said she’d do her best, her voice as warm and friendly as usual but definitely subdued. Not that Levi blamed her. As hard as this was for him, it had to be a hundred times worse for her.
“Thanks,” she said when the crowd thinned.
“No problem,” Levi said, shoving the empty boxes underneath the table.
“No, I mean...”
Val huffed a breath, making him look at her. She’d unfolded her arms, only to stick her hands in her jacket pockets. Between the getup and the way the light played over her sharp features, she looked eighteen again. No, younger. Before Tommy, when she used to pile on defiance like some girls layered on makeup. And he realized it had been that defiance that had first snagged him all those years ago. Made him want to do something, anything, to mitigate whatever had put it there.
Still did.
She glanced out at all the people shuffling around in the yard, then back at him. “I mean, thanks for being okay with talking about Tommy.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
One side of her mouth lifted. Levi told himself the way her hair was floating around her shoulders wasn’t distracting as hell. “Because everybody else... I don’t know. I can’t decide if they’re afraid they’ll lose it or I will.”
As far as chinks went, it was pretty slim. But he’d take it.
“His folks...?”
“The one exception,” she said, averting her gaze again to skim her fingers on the edge of the table. “Even so, I can tell there’s times when we’re holding back. On both sides. You know what I was saying, about being honest?” A breath left her lungs. “I think the world of Tommy’s parents. And I know I wouldn’t’ve gotten through this without them. But...”
“But they’re not exactly objective.”
Another tiny smile pushed at her mouth. “How can I say everything I’m really thinking without causing them more pain?”
Levi glanced across the yard, where the Lopezes had staked out a claim underneath that old cottonwood, Connie spreading a blanket on the ground for them and the kids, Pete setting up a lawn chair for Tomas’s grandma. The old lady leaned forward, smiling at Risa in her stroller, right as Connie looked over and caught Levi’s gaze in hers. And he could see in her expression exactly what they were all thinking—that Tomas wasn’t here. More to the point, that he should be. A lump rose in Levi’s throat.
“And you think they don’t know what’s going on in your head? Whether you say it out loud or not? Tommy will always be part of our lives, Val,” he said softly, nodding at Connie, who smiled back before returning her attention to her husband. Levi faced Val again. “So anytime you want to talk about him—or anything else, actually—I’m more than happy to listen.”
At least that got a laugh out of her. “You better be careful or they’ll revoke your membership in the Dude’s Club.”
He shrugged. “After listening to my army buddies bitch for hours on end, I’ll take my chances. Now. How’s about we get some grub before the locusts eat it all up—”
“The same goes, you know.” Levi frowned down at her. The corners of her mouth lifted. Barely. “If you need an ear, I mean...” Her gaze darted away as she sucked in a breath. “Crap. What’s he doing here?”
“Who?”
“Charley.” She nodded toward the old vet making his way toward the table. “Annie said he came a couple of years ago, got totally freaked out by the fireworks. So she’s been taking the cookout to him, afterward. How on earth did he even get here?”
Levi glanced down the table, where a grinning Charley was spooning baked beans onto his plate. His showing up wasn’t even a question—the dude had his ways. But his guess was that the old soldier didn’t remember about the fireworks. Or the effect they had on him. A lot of guys with PTSD didn’t, until something happened to trigger the flashbacks. Levi had been one of the “lucky” ones, as far as that went—although he’d been close enough to a few explosions to scare the crap out of him when they’d happened, there hadn’t been any real lasting effects. None that he could tell, anyway. Yeah, he had his issues, but fear of loud noises wasn’t one of them.
“Maybe he’s not planning on staying.”
“Maybe. But...”
The concern in her voice twisted something inside him. “You’re quite the mama hen, aren’t you?” he said, and a short laugh bubbled from her chest, followed by a sigh.
“Everybody needs to know somebody cares about ’em,” she said, still watching Charley. Then her eyes lifted to Levi’s. “Don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” he said quietly, then gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Go on back to your family. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“You sure?”
At the incredulousness in her voice, his gaze sank to its knees in hers, smack-dab into a mixture of strength and pain and soul-deep kindness that shook him to his core. He smiled. “It’s no big deal, Val—”
“Not to you, maybe. To him, though...”
“Hey,” he said. “That man saved my butt, back when more than a few people wondered if it could be saved. The least I can do now is return the favor. And speaking of saving...” He pointed to the cherry pie. “That one.” Then he started toward his old boss, thinking this was definitely not how he’d seen the evening panning out. But that slightly confused, if grateful, look on Val’s face was definitely worth a slight change of plans.
And even that was more than he deserved.
* * *
It was something like Tommy would’ve done, Val mused some time later, the way Levi had given up part of himself to make sure somebody else was safe, taken care of.
Of course, between the crowd and needing to stick close to her chicks, she’d lost track of Levi and Charley shortly after that. But she’d occasionally catch glimpses of that beat-up old cowboy hat—yes, she could tell Levi’s beat-up old cowboy hat apart from all the others, she had special powers like that—and since there hadn’t been any set-tos that she was aware of, she assumed all had been well.
For Charley, anyway. Because as great as the food had been, and as hard as she’d smiled watching the girls’ eyes and mouths go wide at the fireworks display, the more fun everyone else had, the wider the hole in her heart seemed to get.
A hole that, even if only for a moment, a tall man in a beat-up old cowboy hat had filled, like when he’d swung her daughter up into his arms, or volunteered to watch over a fellow vet who only half remembered who Levi—or anyone else—was.
A hole she had no business even thinking about letting anyone else fill. Because she’d learned her lesson about that, hadn’t she—?
“You okay, querida?”
At her father-in-law’s gentle voice, Val smiled. He’d temporarily commandeered Lita’s lawn chair while Connie escorted the old woman to one of the nearby porta-potties. Now, on her knees as she gathered up everyone’s paper plates and cups from dinner, Val smiled up at him. She imagined this is what Tommy would have looked like at fifty, handsome and silver haired, a little stockier than he should be. But with a smile that would have still melted her heart. Even though she understood her resistance, looking back it seemed silly how long it’d taken for her to accept Pedro Lopez as a real father figure in her life. As if this lovely man could hurt a fly. And she couldn’t ask for a better grandfather to her girls.
“I’m fine,” she said, looking up at the blue-black sky, pinpricked with a million stars softly glimmering through leftover tendrils of fireworks smoke. “I’m glad we came.”
And she was, the hole in her heart notwithstanding. Because she’d faced down more than a few demons tonight, hadn’t she? Okay, maybe she hadn’t exactly vanquished them, but at least she wasn’t off sucking her thumb in
a corner, either. So she’d take that as a win.
“Good,” Pete said, getting to his feet and hitching his belt underneath his belly, and Val smiled, knowing that was the end to the conversation.
If not the end to her swirling thoughts.
Way on the other side of the house, from the massive old barn that’d been original to the place a hundred years ago, came the screech of an amplifier system cranking up, a twang or two of an electric guitar. Because for some people the party wasn’t anywhere near over. For some people, there was still dancing to be done, boot-scootin’ and two-steppin’, and hot-stuff cowboys kissing pretty girls—
“Everybody ready to go?” she said, standing so abruptly she stumbled. That’d been the plan, after all, getting the kids home and to bed after the fireworks. As it was Risa had conked out a half hour ago, and poor Josie, usually sawing logs by nine, was lurching around like a zombie.
“Oh, we’re taking the girls back to our place,” Connie said. “So you can stay and hang out with the other young people.”
“And why would I do that?” Val said, thinking, Other young people? True, she had a ways to go before she collected Social Security, but compared with the real “young people” making tracks toward the barn, she felt like a long-buried pueblo artifact, brittle and dusty and faded.
“Because,” Connie said, giving her a nudge as she folded up the blanket they’d been sitting on, “looks to me like somebody’s come back for you.”
“What?”
Val followed Connie’s gaze. And sure enough, there was Levi, striding toward them, hatless and determined and grinning like a fool.
Of course, nothing said Levi’s intentions—whatever those might be—even remotely lined up with Connie’s active imagination. Or that Val couldn’t plead exhaustion and worm her way out of whatever that look in his eyes—yeah, he was close enough now to see a definite glint to go along with the grin—meant. Because, really, hadn’t she done enough demon banishing for one night?
Another electrified twang sliced through the cool, still, gunpowder-scented night, and Levi stopped a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, that stupid grin on his face, and Connie giggled.
And clear as day, she heard a voice in her head say, Be honest—you wanna leave because you’re tired? Or because you’re scared?
You know, those damn demons could shut the hell up anytime now. Jeebus.
Chapter Nine
Levi still wasn’t entirely sure what had prompted him to return after taking Charley home. What he’d expected to happen. For all he’d known the Lopezes would’ve been long gone, especially with two little girls and an old woman in tow.
He took the fact that they’d been still there as a sign. Of what, he wasn’t sure. His own idiocy, most likely.
Because it wasn’t like this was ever gonna go anywhere. Then again, he thought as the stomping and electrified music from the barn sucked Val and him in like moths to a flame, maybe that’s what made it easier—knowing there were no expectations. Except, he hoped, seeing more of those smiles. Hearing that laugh. Easing something inside the woman walking beside him, her hands jammed in her jacket pockets, he’d never be able to fully ease inside himself. Of course, could be she was simply pissed that her in-laws had swooped off with her children like a pair of benevolent hawks, not even giving her a chance to protest.
“You mad?” he said, figuring he might as well get it out in the open instead of letting it fester for the rest of the evening.
Predictably enough, she sighed. “Not real fond of being ambushed.”
“That what you think I’m doing?”
“I have no idea what you’re doing. Connie and Pete, though...that’s something else.”
“You can leave anytime you like, you know.”
“Heh. And did you notice Connie took my car? Because, she said, she didn’t want to have to move the car seats.” Her mouth screwed up. “Kind of a long walk back to town. So, yeah, I’m mad. But not at you.”
“You sure about that?”
A beat or two passed before she shrugged. “All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is to make my own choices. Within reason, I mean. Sure, there’s times when your only choice is to deal with the crap life tosses at you, but you should at least have the opportunity to make your own decisions about how you deal with that crap, you know? I mean, jeez—I went from nobody giving a damn about me to people caring too much. A little balance would be nice.”
Levi chuckled. “No such thing in a small town.”
She sighed again, then shouted over the music, the general mayhem as they got closer to the barn. “I suppose you’re right.” Then she glanced over. “So what happened with Charley? He okay?”
Now who’s caring too much? he wanted to say. But he wasn’t that stupid. Somebody’d gotten a bonfire going, out in the dirt. The light flickered in her eyes, across her face. Val wasn’t all soft and pretty in a conventional sense, but she had one of those faces you couldn’t take your eyes off. He couldn’t, anyway. And he was surprised to realize that if her hand had been where he could reach it, he would’ve taken it. Which was probably why it wasn’t.
Nodding, Levi pushed his denim jacket aside to shove his own hands in his pockets. “Oh, yeah. He knew about the fireworks, but I couldn’t talk him out of staying. So I steered us far enough away that I hoped it wouldn’t be a problem. And he was good.” He shrugged. “Maybe because he knew they were coming, so it wasn’t a surprise... Where you going?”
Val’d hung a right toward the bonfire. Which felt pretty nice, actually, as the temperature dropped. She stood with her feet apart, hands stuffed in pockets. When he came up beside her, she said, “So it’s not a problem for you?”
The genuine concern in her voice rippled through him. “Not like it is for some people,” he said softly, focused on the writhing flames.
He felt her gaze on the side of his face, her unasked questions piercing his skull. Finally he lowered his eyes to hers, figuring he may as well answer one or two of them. “I’m okay, Val. Mostly, anyway. But when I was asked if I wanted to re-up, I had no trouble saying no.”
She frowned again into the fire. “And that’s all you’re going to say, I take it.”
“For now.”
After a moment, she nodded, then sucked in a breath. “So. I guess we should do this,” she said, backing away and heading toward the barn. Levi followed, grinning in spite of himself at the Western version of Cinderella’s ball inside. God knew New Mexico wasn’t entirely tumbleweeds and cowboy boots—in fact, most of it wasn’t—but Whispering Pines had always taken great pride in its unapologetic Western vibes. And nowhere more than the Vista’s Fourth of July bash.
The grin morphed into a chuckle. What the town lacked in size—or, let’s face it, culture—was more than made up for in blatant over-the-topness. If nothing else, people around here knew how to have fun. Or at least how to make the most out of whatever fun there was to be had. Not that Levi could dance worth spit, but then, most of the people out there strutting their stuff couldn’t, either.
At last, he had a reason to offer Val his hand. “Wanna dance?” he shouted, his smile dying at her expression when he glanced over—sadness, anger, determination, all balled up into something that broke his heart. He pushed his hand back into his pocket.
“Hey. You don’t want to do this, I’m happy to take you home—”
“What I want,” she said, chin jutting, “is a beer. Maybe two. Then I’ll dance.”
Okay, this wasn’t good. Small as Val was, she probably had the tolerance of a gnat. Levi also guessed, judging from the weird light in her eyes—although that might’ve been from the lanterns strung up all over the barn—it’d been a while since she’d had to find out. “You sure?”
“About the dancing?”
“No. The drinking.”
She huffed a sigh. “Oh, Lord...not you, too?”
“Me, too, what?”
“Telling me what I can or cannot do.” That f
ierce little gaze zinged to his. “Not driving, no kids to take care of... If I want a beer, I can damn well have a beer.”
“Yes, you can. Except you don’t drink, do you?” When she glared at him again, he said, “Just pointing out the obvious.”
Val looked back inside, at all those people having a grand old time, and Levi saw everything she was thinking right on her face. So it was no surprise when she said, “This is something I need to do. But no way am I gonna get through it without a little help. So come on.”
She reached over to yank his hand out of his pocket and pulled him onto the makeshift dance floor, with a pit stop at one of the metal washtubs filled with ice and Coors. And behind the washtub, a stony-faced responsible adult, there to ensure that (1) no one under legit drinking age partook of the offerings, and (2) that no one of legit drinking age partook of more than they could handle. Or—
“He’s driving,” Val said, jerking a thumb in his direction before grabbing one of the beers.
—they were with a designated driver. Although one of the sheriff’s deputies was probably out in the makeshift parking lot, anyway, making sure nobody got behind the wheel who shouldn’t.
So he let her have her beer...and then another one, figuring this was one of those times when it’s best to let the woman do things her own way, clean up the mess later. Yes, even if those messes were actual messes. After dealing with it plenty in the army, a little gal puke was hardly gonna put him off. Sure, maybe she thought she was relying on some liquid in an amber bottle to get her through this, but he was the one she was with. And not, say, one of any number of obviously willing candidates he’d been shooting death glares at for the past half hour. So, yeah.
Over the next little while, Levi discovered two things: That Valerie Lopez did indeed get drunk faster than a frat dude in a drinking game, and that she was the cutest drunk he’d ever seen. And God knew he’d seen his fair share of drunk women. Not all that much fun, truth be told. The slurring and hanging all over him and whatnot. But Val was not a slurrer. Or a hanger-on-er. Her eyes did sparkle more, though. And she actually giggled from time to time—
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