“Shit, Rifle. I really screwed up.”
Suddenly so tired she felt she’d never be able to get up again, she lay down right there on the porch and rested her head on her arms. The sun was sinking behind the chicken coop. Rifle sat beside her, his tail thumping the wooden planks. As she watched the shadows stretch toward her, the exhilaration of the motorcycle ride she’d taken with Levi passed through her mind. His body had felt so safe and secure as she’d clung to his waist. Then there was the memory of his devilish smile when they’d stopped and he carried her kicking and screaming into that cold stream. After that came the moment when he’d walked out of the bedroom to meet her friends and she’d been so proud to show them she was with someone she loved so much. And last but not least was the comfortable, quiet companionship of cooking dinner together after her friends were gone. It all filtered through her mind, frame by excruciating frame, until finally, mercifully, the relief of sleep washed over her and dragged her into oblivion.
* * *
Kyle called Callie back several times. He, or one of the others, tried every few minutes for the next two hours. When there was no answer, they wanted to return to the farm to see what was going on, but he talked them into letting him go alone. He desperately wanted to speak with Callie, tell her how sorry he was now that he really understood. All along he’d thought she was making a bigger deal out of the fact that they’d slept together than she needed to. He’d been worried that, as a consequence, she might ruin their friendship and tear apart the group. He’d had no idea she was actually wrestling with something much bigger and felt guilty for not guessing, not somehow knowing intuitively. He’d spent the most time with her recently. He’d been out to the farm more than anyone else. And instead of simply being a good friend and listening to her—maybe she would’ve told him about her diagnosis—he’d taken her to bed and complicated everything. The biggest irony was that he knew she’d felt bad about his divorce and had been trying to help him.
“Sometimes I think I am in love with you,” he muttered as he punched the gas pedal and barreled down the country road to the farm.
When he arrived, all seemed quiet. Rifle ran out to greet him as soon as he turned in at the gate, which was odd, since it was getting late. Callie’s dog was usually inside by now.
It didn’t look as if anyone was home. Callie’s car sat in the drive, but he couldn’t see Levi’s motorcycle and the house was dark.
Intending to knock, just in case, he parked. But as he was about to get out and approach the house, he spotted an odd shape on the porch and realized it was Callie. She was lying there, staring back at his headlights.
What the hell?
Leaving his keys in the ignition, he hopped out. “Callie?”
Panic gripped him when she didn’t answer. Maybe she wasn’t just staring back at him. Maybe she was dead.
Hoping it wasn’t too late, hoping he could still get her some medical help, he jogged the last few steps. But then she blinked and he clutched his chest as he took a ragged breath. “Shit, you scared me. Are you okay?”
There was no response. But tears gathered in her eyes. One slipped over the bridge of her nose.
He glanced around, once again looking for Levi’s bike. “Where is he?”
“Gone,” she said.
“I see.” With a curse, Kyle bent and scooped her into his arms. “Come on. It’s chilly out here. Let’s get you inside.”
“It’s just us again,” she said as he whistled for Rifle to join them and put her on the couch.
He covered her with a blanket, then smoothed the hair away from her face. “So we’ll work with what we have.”
“How?” She managed a brief smile as she wiped her tears.
Kneeling before her, he clasped her hands between his. “I’m going to take better care of you than I did,” he promised.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He brought her fingers to his lips. “I’m sorry about before. How I handled your loneliness. That was...selfish of me.”
“You were lonely, too,” she pointed out. “And I don’t remember complaining.”
That made him feel more confident that the past had really been forgiven. “Things will turn around. You’ll see.”
Her chest lifted as she breathed deeply. “And if they don’t?”
He didn’t like the thought of that. But it was a fair question. “Then I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“You’re a good friend, Kyle,” she said and tucked the blanket up under her chin.
* * *
Levi couldn’t have stayed in Whiskey Creek even if he’d wanted to. There was no point. How could he be any kind of support to Callie when it was only a matter of time before Chief Stacy or someone else figured out who he was? The moment that happened, he’d be hauled back to Nevada to stand trial. So there was nothing to be gained by sticking around and watching her suffer, nothing to be gained by going through more of the same hell he’d endured when he lost Behrukh—especially because dying of illness was often a long, protracted affair. He preferred to remember Callie as she’d been this morning when they made love on the muddy bank of that stream.
So he had nothing to feel guilty about, right? He’d had no choice; he had to leave. And not saying goodbye? He’d done them both a favor. They’d had a fabulous final day together. Why ruin the memory of it? Now it was just him and his bike and the wind, like it had been for the two years since he’d returned from Afghanistan. This was how he coped. This was how he’d gotten through.
But somehow his life felt even emptier and more aimless now.
For the first time in a long while, his thoughts turned to his father. As much as he hated his old man, there were instances when he yearned for contact, when he missed having some type of anchor. Leo was so authoritative, so autocratic and demanding and controlling. But few things had ever felt more satisfying than achieving his hard-won approval. As a child, Levi had lived for those rare moments.
He guessed it was that better part of his father he was missing now. Not that he’d ever go back to see what had happened to Leo. The night Levi had come home from Afghanistan and they’d had that big blowout was enough contact to last him for more than two years.
And yet...as the miles passed and the night wore on, he found himself heading north, toward Portland.
Maybe the mistakes he’d made were Leo’s fault. But that last night...Levi had to admit he’d been responsible for the argument that ensued. Although his father had seemed eager to see him, grateful he’d returned, Levi had been filled with so much anger and resentment he’d been looking to take it out on someone or something, and his father had provided the perfect target.