When she tilted up her chin, he knew he’d said the wrong thing. “He hasn’t asked for anything—except some bandages to stop the bleeding. The rest has been my doing.”
Kyle felt bad for not having more sympathy. He should’ve at least shaken hands. But, homeless or not, McCloud wasn’t the type of man who inspired pity. He was too remote, too mysterious and probably too angry. “He’ll be fine.”
“He has nowhere to go until he gets his motorcycle fixed.”
“So I’ll pay for a room at Little Mary’s B and B for a few days. That’ll solve it.”
She got the buttermilk from the fridge. “He won’t take your money.”
“How do you know?”
“Try offering and see for yourself.”
He didn’t answer because he believed her.
“Anyway, there’s no need to go that far,” she said. “We can manage right here.”
Kyle came up behind her. “He looks strong, despite his injuries, Callie. Doesn’t that intimidate you?”
“I have to go sometime, Kyle.”
Had he heard her correctly? She’d never said anything like that before. “That’s a weird comment. How can you be so cavalier?” He slouched into a chair. “Do you realize how much damage a man like that could do to a woman like you if he decides to cause trouble?”
“A woman like me?”
“Someone who weighs barely one hundred pounds?”
“He’s already had several chances to hurt me. He could’ve broken in last night instead of knocking on the door. He could’ve attacked me after I found him in the bathroom. Or maybe not—he was pretty hurt,” she said. “But if he was intent on rape or murder, he could’ve stopped me before I called you this morning. He was feeling stronger by then.”
“Just because he hasn’t hurt you yet doesn’t mean he won’t. Maybe he has a low frustration tolerance. Maybe you haven’t done anything to piss him off.”
“He’s in pain. From the dog attack and possibly other things. Something sent him out on the road. I get the feeling that all he wants is to be left alone.”
Kyle glanced over his shoulder to make sure they still had their privacy. “Fine. But it’s summer, plenty warm out. At least have him sleep in your uncle’s old room in the barn.”
She nodded. “I’ll have to. I only have one bed.”
“And once you find his bike and get the damn thing fixed, send him on his way!”
Standing on tiptoe, she reached for the flour. “I don’t think I’ll have to ask him to leave.”
A noise made them turn. Levi was there, wearing the clothes he’d pulled from his backpack, which looked clean. “I guarantee it,” he said.
4
Breakfast was awkward. Callie wished Kyle would go home. She didn’t like the skeptical way he kept looking at Levi, and she was sure Levi didn’t like it, either. He bowed his head over his plate as he ate. Then he thanked her and asked if he could use her phone.
After she handed him her cell, he walked into the living room and she and Kyle cleared the table.
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” she said. Levi’s voice carried back to them but they couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“I’ll help.”
She guessed Kyle was feeling contrite for behaving so boorishly. “What’s up with you today?” she asked. “You glared at Levi all through breakfast.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “I know. I couldn’t seem to stop. It’s because I was already worried about you—and now this.”
Pretending to be absorbed in her work, she averted her gaze. She hated lying to those she loved but wasn’t ready to handle the alternative. “I don’t know why you’d worry about me. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You haven’t been yourself since you moved here.”
“Of course I’ve been myself.” She’d done her best to go on as if nothing catastrophic had happened but, of course, there were bound to be changes. Hearing that she had only six months left, that this summer would be her last, still wasn’t easy to cope with.
“No. You’re quieter. Reflective. Withdrawn. You don’t spend much time at the studio anymore, and you were there all the time before. I can’t figure out what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said firmly. “My assistant is taking care of Reflections. That gives me a chance to live here, on the farm, like I’ve always wanted to, before my parents sell it. It’s my way of saying goodbye to the place.”
He obviously wasn’t convinced. “You loved living in town, loved being in the middle of everything. And you were so determined to build your business. Then you went...AWOL.”
“I haven’t gone AWOL. I’m tired of doing weddings. I want to be able to photograph nature and help my parents, too. This is my opportunity.”
He studied the black-and-white photograph mounted on canvas that hung on her wall. She’d managed to capture a large, hairy spider spinning a web out in the barn. The texture of the old wood came through so clearly. And she loved the shadow of the web on the ground. It was competition material. She knew it. Finally, she was taking artistic photographs—but she wasn’t sure she’d be around to reap the rewards.
“So how are you making a living?” he asked. “I know your parents are giving you a little to get this place shaped up before they list it, but that can’t be enough to cover your monthly expenses.”
“Actually, the studio’s booked for the season and I no longer have to pay rent on my old apartment. I’m better off than before.”
“The business hasn’t suffered without you there?”
“Not as much as you’d expect.” Autumn might prove to be a different story, but autumn might not matter. One day at a time... “Tina’s talented. I trained her well.”
“If she’s that talented she’ll break out on her own someday.”
She wouldn’t have to. Callie planned to leave her the business. And she planned to leave Kyle her dog. Those were the only two things she had to give away, except her SUV, but that came with a monthly payment. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“So you’re happy?”
The way he looked at her begged her to be honest with him, so she almost came out with the truth about her liver. She didn’t want to hurt her friends and family by dying suddenly when she could’ve given them some warning.