When Summer Comes

“I was at your place this morning,” she said. “I saw the bloody paw prints, Mr. Seamans. They weren’t in the garage.”

Denny’s eyes narrowed to a razor-sharp point. “You went on to my property?”

“I knocked first. You didn’t answer.”

“That doesn’t give you permission to snoop around!”

Rifle growled when Denny raised his voice, but Denny seemed too angry to care. Maybe he trusted her to hold the dog off. “Because of you, they’re going to put down two innocent pit bulls!”

“Because of me?” Callie echoed. “You mean because you allowed your dogs to injure someone!”

“I didn’t even know it was happening!”

“They’re still your responsibility. A child couldn’t have survived that attack. You didn’t see the number of stitches it took to repair what your ‘innocent’ Sauron and Spike did!”

“The stupid bastard they bit shouldn’t have trespassed on the property!”

Callie feared Levi would hear them. She didn’t want him to come out, didn’t want this to get out of hand, so she lowered her voice. “He didn’t trespass.”

“You don’t know that!” Powell shouted, despite her attempt to get him to speak quietly. “You don’t know anything! You’re just some small-town bitch who’s sticking her nose in something that’s got nothing to do with her.”

The barn door slid open with a resounding bang. At that point, Callie knew Levi would be joining them. It was too late to hope he’d stay out of it.

“Time for you to go,” he announced to the Gruper renters.

Because he wasn’t within reach of Denny’s headlights or the dim circle thrown by her porch light, Callie could only make out his shape, but it was enough to tell her he was striding purposely toward them.

Denny and Powell swung around. “Who the hell are you?” Denny asked.

Powell grabbed Denny’s arm as Levi stepped into the light. “That’s got to be the guy. Why else would he be in the barn so late? He tried sleeping in our garage last night, didn’t he?”

In deference to the cooler temperatures once the sun went down, Levi was wearing a thermal shirt with his jeans. He must’ve gotten it from his pack because Callie hadn’t seen it before. She liked it on him, but she wasn’t too encouraged by how lean it made him look in comparison to the two bruisers on her porch.

With Denny and Powell distracted by the interruption, Callie raised her gun. She was afraid she might have to head off a fight. But she hesitated to speak up too soon, didn’t want a show of force to cause this situation to escalate if there was still a chance of avoiding it.

“Calm down,” she warned Rifle who, taking his lead from Levi’s appearance, was growling at Denny and Powell.

Levi came close—close enough for Callie to see

the fury in his eyes. Together with the anger chiseled in the hollows of his cheeks, the firm set of his jaw and the thinness of his lips, he looked dangerous despite the fact that he weighed a lot less than the two Gruper renters.

“I don’t want any trouble.” She had to lower her gun to grab hold of her dog. She wished she could toss her weapon to Levi. Maybe it only shot pellets, but she couldn’t imagine him taking on two men without some kind of defense, especially these men. He had too many stitches, for starters.

To her dismay, he didn’t allow her the chance to give him the gun. He answered her, but he didn’t even look over.

“There won’t be trouble, provided these two get back in their truck and drive away.”

Denny seemed so surprised that this “vagrant” would stand up to him he didn’t react immediately. He glanced at Powell as if confirming that this was just the invitation they’d been waiting for, and Powell seemed to interpret that as a signal to take charge.

“Look, if you want to get your ass kicked, we’ll be happy to take care of it,” he said.

“Is that what you came here for?” Levi responded. “A fight?”

“A fight?” Powell laughed out loud. “I’m talking about teaching you a lesson, loser, about trespassing on other people’s property. Because it looks to me like Sauron and Spike didn’t do half what they should have.”

The porch railing creaked under his weight as he swung his body over it, but before Callie could even process the threat and let go of Rifle, Powell was lying in the dirt. It all happened so fast she couldn’t tell how Levi had accomplished such a feat. It’d looked as if he’d landed only one punch, but the big guy wasn’t getting up.

Denny, who’d started down the steps, was now backing away from Levi instead of heading toward him. “What’s wrong with you, man? Are you crazy?”

“I’m sure there are psychologists out there who would say I am,” Levi replied.

“Now I know what happened to my dogs, why they got the worst of it.”

He had no idea what his dogs had done. Levi’s clothing covered the stitches, but Callie kept her mouth shut because Levi was already talking.

“Your dogs attacked me, and I did what I had to in order to survive.”

Powell was coming around. “What the hell...what’d he hit me with?” He blinked, shaking his head.

“Just get up,” Denny told him. “Get up right now.”

Powell managed to find his feet, but he staggered before he could begin making his way to the truck. Denny waited for him, then hurried around to the driver’s side.

“This isn’t finished,” he called back to Levi as he climbed in. “I hope you know that. I won’t let some piece-of-shit drifter destroy my dogs. And you’ll pay for what you just did to my friend, too.”

“You want more, we could finish it right here,” Levi said, but he sounded more tired than threatening. Maybe that was because he knew Denny wouldn’t take him up on the offer.

The door slamming shut was his only answer. Then Denny threw the truck in Reverse, swung around and charged down Callie’s driveway.

As his tires churned up the dust, Callie gaped at Levi, who was shaking the pain from his hand. “Did you break it?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Would you know if you had?”

“I’m pretty sure I would. I’ve broken it before.”

Rifle whined and sat down, letting Callie know there was no need to continue restraining him. She sighed as she straightened, feeling weaker than ever now that the excitement was over. “What’d you do to him?”

He stared after their red taillights. “You saw it.”

“But it happened so fast.”

“Just because a guy can lift weights doesn’t mean he can fight,” Levi said with a shrug.

“Where did you learn to fight?” She put the pellet gun aside. “In the military?”

“There’s no need for martial arts when you have a lethal weapon.”

She thought of Kyle and how rude he’d been earlier—and was glad he hadn’t pushed Levi too far. “You had to learn somewhere.”

He didn’t explain. “If you want me to leave instead of painting the barn, I’ll understand.”

“There’s no need for you to leave. They were the ones who got out of line, not you.”

“But as long as I’m here, they could come back.”

“They could come back, anyway. And it looks like I’ll be safer if you stay,” she added with a grin. “I doubt my pellet gun could’ve done what you just did.”

“Rifle could’ve handled them.”

She watched her dog lick Levi’s injured hand and wag his tail as if he’d just found a new hero. “I’d prefer he not have to.”

A dark spot was growing on Levi’s sleeve. “You’ve torn out some of your stitches.”

He glanced down. “It’ll be okay.”

“We can’t leave it like that.” She waved him forward. “Come on in.”

She applied a couple of butterfly Band-Aids to act in place of the torn stitches. Then she changed the dressing and got a blanket out of the linen closet.

“What are you doing?” he asked when she made a bed on the couch.

She was providing them with a little insurance that Denny and Powell wouldn’t be able to jump him while he was sleeping. “I think it’s better if you stay inside tonight.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I won’t if you’ll do me this favor,” she said.

* * *

It was late when Levi woke up. He could tell by the color of light streaming through the windows. The exhaustion of the past few days had caught up with him, but where was Callie? Was she still in bed?

He lay without moving, enjoying the peace and quiet while listening for her. At first, he heard nothing. But after several minutes, she whistled to her dog outside.

Yawning, he scratched his head, then winced at the pain caused by such a small action. Thanks to the miles he’d had to push his bike, the dogfight, the stitches, the lack of sleep and the confrontation with the two bodybuilders, he was banged up. Every muscle was sore. But it wasn’t the first time he’d ever woken up like this. When he’d lived at home, feeling as if he’d been hit by a truck had been a common occurrence.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

How often had his father said that? And how many times had he made Levi prove it?

Unwilling to think of Leo and all his talk about becoming the best, he sat up and waited for his head to stop pounding before getting to his feet.

When he finally walked outside, Rifle came racing toward him. Levi couldn’t help tensing at the dog’s approach, but he’d lived with the threat of physical danger his whole life—if not in the ring, then at home, with a father whose hair-trigger temper could explode for almost no reason. Levi wasn’t about to let one incident with dogs make him cower in fear, especially because he’d always been a dog lover. After his mother took off with his sister, it was his dog who’d given him enough love to get him through the next ten years.

Fortunately, Rifle merely barked a hello. Then he circled, acting eager to lead the way to his master.

Levi motioned for the dog to start off. “Fine. Go.”

With another bark, Rifle loped toward the barn, but he didn’t stop at the entrance. He trotted through the middle and out the other side to where Callie was lying on the ground with a camera.

“You’re taking pictures of dirt?” Levi asked as he approached her.

Lowering her camera, she looked up at him. She was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a white T-shirt top, which was no longer clean, due to all that scooting around. “See? I’ve found an anthill!”

The excitement in her voice surprised him. “An anthill.”

“Yeah.” A bead of sweat rolled from her temple as she smiled. “I’ve been getting some great shots.”

He indicated the camera. “This is your hobby?”

“My profession. I have a studio in town. Reflections by Callie. We do a lot of weddings. But lately I’ve been shooting nature.”

He recalled the impressive photograph hanging in the kitchen. “That spider by the table.”

“Is mine, yes.”

“It’s nice.”

She seemed gratified. “Thanks.”

“So how often do you go into your studio?”

“I used to go every day. But...I’m taking the summer off.”

“To photograph nature.”

“And to say goodbye.”

He studied her carefully. “To whom?”

Sitting up, she tilted her head so that the sun could hit her face. “To this place. It belonged to my grandparents before they died. I spent a lot of summer days and weekends here when I was growing up, have a lot of fond memories.”

“That’s why you’re living out here alone?”

“That’s right. Why?”

He hesitated to put what he was feeling into words. He sensed that something was wrong, something beyond having to sell a piece of property that had been in the family for years. But he didn’t really know Callie and could easily be mistaken. He hoped he was. As much as he was determined not to feel anything, he appreciated her kind heart. He’d never experienced much gentleness. Not until he met Behrukh.

Maybe that was why he’d been foolish enough to get involved with her. He’d returned to her father’s store again and again, to buy gum, candy, bottled water, anything he could think of. He’d never been with a woman before and his hormones were running rampant.

“Who’s taking care of the studio?” he asked. “Or did you close it for the summer?”

“We couldn’t miss bridal season. So I have an assistant—more like an apprentice, I guess—who’s handling things for me.”

“While you work out here, taking pictures of nature and getting the farm in shape.”

“Basically.”

She wasn’t wearing any makeup. He got the impression she’d climbed out of bed, pulled her hair up and headed outside. But he liked her this way. She looked fresh and dewy and soft.

Suddenly, he craved some of that softness. A moment of tenderness. A respite from the bitterness that had left his own heart so hard. It felt like forever since he’d lost himself inside a woman.

But the only woman he’d known in that way was dead because of him. So was the baby she carried—his baby.

He tried to steel himself against the memory he avoided more than any other, but nearly swooned beneath the vision that broke on his mind. Being around Callie made it almost impossible to forget what happened. Although she looked nothing like the woman he’d loved, the two had a similar spirit.

“Are you okay?” Callie’s voice was soft, practically a whisper.

He opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. This wasn’t Behrukh, he reminded himself. And what had happened in Kandahar? There was nothing he could do to change it.

“Fine,” he managed to say. He wanted to get away from Callie, needed to get away.

Soon, he promised himself. As soon as he fulfilled his obligation. “Where’s the paint?”

Although she didn’t look convinced that he was as fine as he said, she didn’t inquire further. She dusted off her knees and got to her feet. “I’ll get it for you. After we have breakfast.”

6

Callie turned on some music while she made fried potatoes, omelets and toast. She’d always enjoyed cooking, but having someone to fix a meal for was even more fulfilling. Had she been on her own, she would’ve settled for toast and juice, since she often felt nauseous after a big meal.

“You don’t have to go to so much trouble.” Levi spoke from where he was cleaning up his bedding in the other room.

She didn’t bother to come up with a response. She’d awakened this morning feeling inexplicably happy just to be alive. Part of it was the sunshine pouring into the old farmhouse. She loved it here, was glad she’d moved. But Levi was another reason she felt so good. Trying to help someone else gave fresh purpose to her own life. It also dragged her attention away from her various worries and complaints—and the inevitable, should she be unable to find a liver donor.

“Did you hear me?” he called.

“I heard you,” she replied.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“Because I’m going to make what I’m going to make.”

“Okay, forget I said anything.”

She smiled at the pique in his voice. She had no idea what his story was, or if he’d tell her before he left. Most likely not. She didn’t care either way. He had a right to his privacy. She simply liked thinking that she’d made a positive impact on someone, if only in a small way—giving him a place to stay, some food to eat, a few days of peace.

“We need to go into town so I can get a new rod for your shower,” he said.

“Why not take the one from the other bathroom?” she suggested.

“We have to get parts for my bike, anyway.” Having folded his bedding, he was now standing in the doorway. She could tell by the sound of his voice, but she didn’t turn.

“Callie.”

She was pretty sure it was the first time he’d called her by name. She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Hmm?”

“What’s really going on with you?”

The gravity in his voice told her this wasn’t a casual question. He could sense that something wasn’t ideal. But she didn’t want him to know about her diagnosis any more than she wanted anyone else to know. She couldn’t say why. Maybe she was afraid he’d see her as flawed or defective. Why would he choose to spend even a few days with a woman who wouldn’t be around in a couple of weeks or months? And she didn’t want him to go. She was intrigued enough to hope he’d finish out the week.

“What’s really going on with you?” she asked, turning his own question back on him. “There’s got to be a reason a handsome, capable guy goes rambling around America.”

When he grunted, she took it to mean “Touché,” and chuckled to herself.

“You’re not like other women,” he said.

She got a plate out of the cupboard. “Are you like other men?”

“I like the same things they do.”

There seemed to be added significance to this statement, as if he was talking about liking women, liking sex, but she chose to ignore that—just as she chose to ignore the way he was looking at her. “Good. Then you should enjoy your breakfast.” She carried his omelet to the table before returning to the counter for his toast and hash browns.

“Where’s yours?” he asked when she sat down with only half a glass of juice.

She’d been so eager to see him eat that she hadn’t prepared anything for herself. “I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t eat much last night.”

“I was too tired.”

“And now?”

“I ate earlier.”

He glanced around the kitchen, but said nothing about the lack of evidence.

She nodded toward his food. “Go ahead while it’s hot,” she said. Then she stood. “I’ll shower so we can drive to town when you’re finished.”

“I’d feel better if you’d eat.”

She couldn’t imagine why it would matter to him. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and felt his gaze follow her out.

* * *

Levi hadn’t felt much physical desire in the past year. He hadn’t cared whether he lived or died, let alone whether he satisfied his sexual appetite. After Behrukh, he’d figured he’d never want a woman again. He certainly didn’t deserve to go on without her, especially in that way.

But sitting in Callie’s house knowing she was standing naked under the shower, gave him his first erection—that wasn’t a dream—since Kandahar. He kept picturing the spray running between her full breasts, cascading over her flat stomach to roll between her legs, where he wanted to touch her, to feel her slick, wet body close around him.

Listening to the whine of the pipes in the old house, he stopped chewing and put down his fork. His heart was pounding, and he was finding it difficult to breathe. Did such a sudden, unexpected rush of lust mean he was recovering? Or that he was an even worse person than he’d thought?

A phone rang. Callie’s cell phone. She’d left it on the kitchen counter.

To distract himself, he got up to see who it was. A picture of Kyle filled the screen. It was her boyfriend, or whatever she wanted to call him, no doubt checking in to see if she was okay.

Kyle’s intrusion reminded Levi that he had no business thinking about Callie in that way. He didn’t know her. And, other than her one throwaway statement about his being handsome and capable, she’d certainly given no indication that she’d welcome his advances. Why would she want to be touched by a vagrant? Someone who’d essentially abandoned any kind of normal life?

He couldn’t act on his desire, even if she extended an invitation. He’d feel far too guilty.

Taking a deep breath, he returned to the table, where he finished eating in slow, deliberate bites. From that moment on, he was extradiligent about keeping his mind blank, but it didn’t help. He was still rock-hard when the water went off, so he quickly cleaned up the kitchen and fled to the barn.

* * *

“Your boyfriend called while you were in the shower.”

Callie was driving. Levi sat in the passenger seat. She’d noticed the missed call when she’d picked up her phone, but she hadn’t wanted to speak to Kyle while she was with Levi. She knew he wouldn’t be happy about the encounter with Denny Seamans and Powell Barney. He’d say that Levi’s presence had compromised her safety. But it was Denny and Powell, and only Denny and Powell, who were to blame for what happened last night.

“You mean my friend,” she said. “I saw that.”

“You’re not going to call him back?”

“I will when I have a minute to focus.”

“You might want to do it sooner rather than later.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Because...”

“He’ll only come over if you don’t.”

“True.” He had an excellent point. Having these two men in the same room made her uncomfortable. She preferred to avoid that in future. But if she called Kyle while driving, she’d have to use her hands-free, which essentially put him on speakerphone, and she wasn’t about to let Levi hear their conversation. She had no idea what Kyle might say. So she waited until she pulled into the auto parts store.

“I’ll be right in,” she told Levi, and dialed Kyle’s number the second he got out.

“Hey,” she said when Kyle answered.

“Hey yourself,” he responded. “Where’ve you been?”

“Sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower.”

“All morning?”

“Levi and I were in a hurry to get to town.”

“So he’s with you?”

“Sort of. He’s in the auto parts store.”

“I see. And once he fixes that bike of his he’ll be leaving?”

She clenched her jaw. “After he’s painted the barn, Kyle. You know the deal.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled. “But I’m relieved you’re okay. He didn’t hurt you or do anything weird?”

“No.”

“The owner of the dogs who attacked Levi brought them to the vet yesterday.”

She slipped her keys into her purse. She could see Levi heading down an aisle inside the store. He wasn’t at the register yet, but she’d have to go in soon so she could pay for the parts he needed. “How do you know?”

“Cheyenne was there. Her dog has a sore foot.”

“Why didn’t she call me?”

“Why would she? She didn’t know you had anything to do with some vagrant getting bitten by pit bulls—until I told her.”

Great. Now Cheyenne knew? She was part of the group Callie and Kyle had grown up with. It was only a matter of time before the whole gang found out, which meant Callie would be hearing from more and more of them. “I still don’t get why she called you.”

“She wanted to tell me that she’d seen Noelle with another guy on her way home.”

Noelle had to be the most hated ex in all of Whiskey Creek. She hadn’t been particularly popular before marrying Kyle. Everyone had known he was making a terrible mistake. But, at the time, there’d been a baby involved and his sense of decency demanded he see it through. “That’s good news, right?”

“If she marries him. Then I won’t have to continue paying spousal maintenance.” He cursed under his breath. “I still can’t believe how much that judge ordered me to pay. He saw a pretty woman weeping in front of him and it didn’t matter what I said after that.”

“You could’ve fought harder.”

“It wasn’t worth it to me to drag the damn thing out. Money is only money, I guess. At least I don’t have to live with her anymore.”

“So how badly were they hurt?”

“The dogs? One had a couple of broken ribs. The other a broken leg. And they each needed stitches. Cheyenne said she thinks they must’ve hurt each other in the fight, because one’s ear was cut.”

The attack must’ve been horrific. It was a wonder both dogs and Levi had come out of it basically okay. Callie doubted someone without Levi’s ability to defend himself would’ve been able to fend them off. “They would’ve killed a lesser man.”

“A lesser man?” Kyle repeated.

She straightened at the wry note in his voice. “Someone who can’t fight like he can.”

“How do you know he can fight?”

“Because I saw him. The owner of those dogs—Denny Seamans—brought his buddy Powell and showed up on my doorstep last night.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but she didn’t want to admit that. “I wasn’t expecting it to go the way it did.”