“The dogs are currently at the shelter. I wanted to see how convinced you are about what should be done before I go any further.”
She sighed. If these pit bulls were dangerous, she couldn’t allow her love of animals to come before human safety. What if they attacked a child?
She didn’t want to be responsible for that. And after meeting Denny and Powell, and seeing how they behaved, she doubted they’d take the situation seriously enough to put a stop to the threat.
“I believe Levi,” she said. “You saw what those dogs did.”
“But did he trespass? Egg them on in some way?”
She could’ve reminded him about the lack of blood in the garage where Denny was staying, or the placement of Levi’s bike, but she knew it came down to credibility. She and G. had credibility in Whiskey Creek. They’d lived here all their lives, knew everyone. Levi and the renters did not.
“Like I said, I believe Levi.”
“Okay,” he said, as if that decided it. “Consider this handled, but...”
“But?” she repeated.
“There’s one other reason I’ve been dragging my feet.”
“And that is...”
“I don’t trust Denny Seamans or Powell Barney. I’m afraid of how they might respond, afraid they might blame you instead of me.”
“They shouldn’t blame anyone, except their dogs—or, more to the point, themselves, if they didn’t train those dogs properly.”
“They aren’t the type to accept responsibility. They’ve been trying to place the blame elsewhere ever since this happened. So...you should be careful. I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t some sort of...backlash.”
Denny and Powell had already stopped by, but no one seemed to know that. Apparently, they weren’t telling—probably because coming to her house and getting into an altercation would only make them look as combative as their dogs. Also, Callie believed a guy who prided himself on his size wouldn’t want to admit that he’d been so easily taken by a drifter weighing fifty pounds less.
“I’ll be careful.” She tried to sound confident, but in her current condition, she wouldn’t be able to put up much of a defense once Levi left.
* * *
It was close to seven when Levi saw Callie’s SUV turn down the drive. He’d finished working for the day, had just showered in the small, makeshift bathroom in the barn and was playing a game of fetch with Rifle. Fortunately, now that she was back he wouldn’t have to figure out how to occupy himself next. He was hungry, but he hesitated to invade her privacy by going inside her house while she was gone, even though she’d told him he could make himself at home.
He stood to one side as she parked.
“Hey,” she said as she got out. Her smile suggested she was happy to see him. It was so infectious he couldn’t help smiling back.
“Hey yourself. That took all day.”
“I had lots to do.”
“Get it done?”
“I think so.” She leaned in for a small paper sack that was sitting on the console. “Found the nails you wanted, but it was like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
After taking the bag, he compared what she’d bought with one of the nails still in his pocket. “You did great.”
She crouched to say hello to her dog, who was so excited to have her home his whole hind end was wagging. “There’s my baby. How are you today?” she cooed, scratching and patting and hugging him. Then she squinted up at Levi. “Looks as if you two have been getting along.”
“Rifle’s a good dog.”
“You hear that? He likes you.” With a final pat, she straightened and collected the bags piled in her backseat. “I don’t want you to get mad at me for this, but I bought you a couple of things at the mall.”
“Me?” he said in surprise.
“I thought you could use them.”
He cocked his head to see around her, at what she was digging out of her SUV. “What’d you get?”
“A pair of jeans and a shirt.” She shoved a Macy’s bag at him. “Go try them on.”
Reluctantly, he accepted her offering, but he scowled to let her know he wasn’t pleased. “Callie—”
“Oh, stop,” she said with an impatient wave. “You’re going to end up doing a lot more work than what I’ve paid you for. I’ll owe you—and Lord knows you could use a change of clothes, so...do we have to make a big deal out of this?”
Her expression seemed almost childlike in its entreaty.
“I guess not.”
“Wonderful!” Her smile returned. “Will you try them on? So I can see if I got the right sizes?”
“Sure.” With a sigh, he helped bring in some takeout that smelled good enough to make his mouth water, as well as several other bags that had come from various shops other than the department store where she’d bought his clothes.
“I think I’m safe with the shirt,” she said. “But the jeans. I had to guess.”
He gave her the food and dropped the other bags on the couch before proceeding to her bedroom, where he changed. When he came out, the food was gone—she’d probably put it in the kitchen—and she was resting on the couch.
“You okay?” The paleness of her face reminded him of the harrowing hours of illness she’d suffered the night before.
She opened her eyes. “Just tired.”
“You need to get in bed early.”
“Nice,” she said as she noticed his clothes. “I did well.”
Everything felt comfortable, fit perfectly. “I like what you bought,” he said. “Thanks.”
“You come across as very conservative. I thought I couldn’t go wrong with a pair of jeans and a dark shirt.” She laughed. “You ready to eat?”
“I’m starving.”
“It’s on the table.”
He paused halfway to the kitchen. “What about you?”
“I’m going to lie here for a bit.”
She’d bought tri-tip, roasted vegetables, corn on the cob and some thick-sliced bread from a place called Just Like Mom’s. Hoping to encourage her to eat, he brought her a plate before dishing up his own, but it was too late.
“Damn,” he said when he saw that she’d drifted off. He set her food on the coffee table so he could carry her to bed.
“How was dinner?” she murmured as he lifted her up.