Chapter Seven
Levi
L evi arrived, carrying a to-go cup of coffee that was lukewarm at best, along with the croissant, just as George Cooper and Ryan O’Connell were leaving. George, briefcase in hand and his usual game face in place, stood on the porch talking to Dana, who’d positioned herself next to Otto’s favorite chair.
His throat tickled at the sight of the rocker. There’d be no more evenings spent under the night sky, drinking a beer with the old man, exchanging opinions on the ethics of breeding, because the number of pills in the small plastic bottle was tellingly sparse. The instructions to take as required said a lot, too.
Ryan was already in his truck, engine running. He leaned out of his window. “Go ahead and take the week off,” he said to Levi. “Let me know if there’s anything Otto or Dana needs.”
The Endeavour’s owner appeared to be confused as to Dana’s level of involvement. She’d be on her way to Billings in a bit. The tickle in his throat thickened.
Then, the tail end of what George was saying to Dana claimed his attention, and Ryan’s words made more sense. “If you stick around until after the will is read and the dust settles down, then Tanoa is yours.”
What the hell, Otto?
Dana looked as confused as he felt.
She pressed a palm to her chest and fingertips to the base of her throat. “But I owe Otto thirty thousand dollars.”
George gave her arm a light squeeze, offering reassurance that her hearing was fine. “Not if you stick around.”
Levi had no issues with Otto giving Dana a horse—Otto didn’t need the money and she’d take good care of Tanoa, for sure—but asking her to stay wasn’t right. She had her career to think about. And what was she supposed to do? Sleep on his floor? Because someone would have to stay in his cabin with him at night.
“Let me talk to Otto,” he said, bounding up the few steps to the porch.
“Not so fast.” George cut him off with a hand to his chest before he could reach the door. “You’ve got a similar deal. Stick around, help the new owners settle in, and Nova is yours. The specifics are in his will, but he gave me permission to disclose that information—and I quote—’to anyone who might give a damn.’”
A layer of worry encased Levi’s gut. Otto had cut Dana a good deal on Tanoa already. Between her horse and Nova, this would be the equivalent of a hundred thousand dollars he was giving away, and Levi couldn’t imagine Otto’s family being happy about it. Chances were good they’d give more than a damn.
“I don’t feel right about this,” Dana said, doubt in her eyes.
She looked to Levi as if seeking his opinion, but he didn’t have one. It was one thing for him to reassure her that it was okay for her to take Tanoa, because it was, except he didn’t feel right about taking Nova from Otto, either.
“He can give his horses away to anyone he wants,” George said. “You don’t get them for free, though,” he reminded them. “He expects you to help him out, and this is your payment in return. The will is more specific about the conditions attached, but from a legal perspective, the conditions are fair.”
They might be fair, but Otto hadn’t taken one or two things into consideration. “Dana has rodeo commitments.”
“Missing the next two or three won’t make much difference,” she said. “All I can realistically expect from this season is to maintain my pro status and maybe one or two larger paychecks. But are you sure this is legal?” she said to George.
A slight smile erupted, lending humor to his response. He patted his briefcase. “The papers are signed and witnessed. A medical doctor has sworn to his mental fitness. It’s my job to be sure. And I am.”
“I should thank him.” She made a move toward the door of the cabin, but George stopped her, too.
“He asked to speak to Levi, and Levi’s the one with the medication. Why don’t you let him go first?” George gently suggested.
“Oh… Oh, of course. I wasn’t thinking.” Her cheeks took on the faint hue of a ripening peach. She stepped aside to make room for Levi to squeeze between them.
Levi could only assume that she hadn’t yet put Otto’s terms into context. They were going to have to stay here. Together. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, caring for the old man and his horses.
Or maybe he was the only one who saw it as a problem.
He remembered the croissant and coffee and passed them to her. “I thought you could use these.”
She juggled the to-go cup and the crumpled, white paper bag with the focused care of a weapons expert handling live explosives. She opened the bag cautiously, as if the contents might blow up any second. Then her face cleared, and long-lashed blue eyes lit with pleasure. She cast him a smile, blowing his brain to tiny pieces that settled south of his fly. “A chocolate croissant. Thank you.”
One brain cell continued to function. It slapped a few coworkers back to life, and together, they sent him a memo. You can bet this is going to be a problem for you, sir. And a mighty big one, at that.
George, who made a living off people’s problems and likely saw this one coming, shook his head at the puffs of white cloud drifting aimlessly in the blue sky. “I’ll leave Otto in your capable hands,” he said dryly, and got in his car.
Otto.
Right.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Levi said.
Otto appeared to be asleep when he entered, so Levi primed the pump in the sink, poured him a glass of fresh spring water, then carried the glass to the bedside.
“Close the door. You’re letting flies in.”
Levi jumped. Water sloshed over the rim of the glass. “Dammit, Otto. Don’t scare me like that.”
“If that’s all it takes to make you jumpy, then be mindful of the hair trigger on my shotgun. It’s loaded and I’d hate for you to shoot yourself.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
Levi closed the door, then helped the old man to a sitting position. He took the small bottle of pills from his shirt pocket and shook two into his palm.
Otto eyed the pills with suspicion. “I’ve never taken drugs in my life. I’m not going to become addicted to those, am I?”
His sense of humor was fine. “No idea,” Levi said, more than willing to help keep matters light. “There’s only one sure way to find out.”
Otto’s hands shook, so Levi dropped the pills on his tongue and held the glass of water steady for him to help wash them down. He assumed Otto might want to lie down while he waited for them to take effect.
Instead, Otto wanted to talk. “You ever wonder how I came to live out here all alone?”
The whole town of Grand wondered about it. Levi had heard lots of speculation over the years, but nothing based on hard fact. “I always figured it was none of my business.”
“It’s not. I’d like to get a few things off my chest before I die though, and since I don’t believe in God, you aren’t a priest, and you know how to keep things to yourself, I’m willing to make it your business.”
Whatever Otto’s story was, it had happened a long time ago and to a far different man. He’d lived on this ranch for more than sixty years. His business dealings were honest, he was well-respected, and he caused his neighbors no trouble. He shouldn’t have to worry about what was behind him considering what lay ahead.
“This should be good. Let me guess. You robbed a bank and have been hiding out from Pinkerton investigators while living off the proceeds of crime,” Levi said.
“If so, it would make for a far better story,” Otto fired back. “When I was a kid, maybe no more than sixteen or seventeen, I had a friend. A close one, if you catch my drift. My parents didn’t approve, and I had to make a choice. My friend or my family. I was raised to respect my parents, so I did what they wanted, but I never really forgave them for it. They never really forgave me either, for being someone they didn’t understand. My grandfather left me this land, so when I turned twenty-one, I packed up, moved here, and never looked back. They never looked my way at all. Too relieved to have me gone, I guess. Out of sight, out of mind.”
The sadness in his voice as he spoke told Levi more than the words themselves. He had regrets. “Did you ever try to find your friend?”
“See, that’s where the respect part continues to fester. I didn’t forgive my parents, and yet I couldn’t go against them, so I didn’t. To be fair though, my friend didn’t try to find me either. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been happy enough with the life I’ve made for myself. But there’s always been a part missing from it. What if I’d stuck by my friend, been honest with myself about what mattered most to me, and waited to see if my family came around?”
There was a moral buried in Otto’s story. Levi didn’t know how the old man had picked up on his feelings for Dana, but he had, and he believed Levi was letting others stand in the way of his happiness. Maybe he was. But it was Dana’s happiness he was worried about, and he was a complication for her, not the solution.
“You think I’m making the same mistake you did.”
“I don’t think anything.” Otto’s eyes had taken on a glassy appearance. His words slowed, the syllables drawn out and spaced farther and farther apart as the drug took effect. “This is my confession, not yours. You’re a young man. Smart, too. You’ll figure your problems out.”
He began to drift off.
Levi stayed beside him, waiting for him to fall asleep, pondering upon what he’d been told. If that was the worst his old friend had to confess, then he had no need to worry over what eternity might have in store for him. Otto Hart was a good man. One of the best.
And Levi would do his best to make his remaining days easy for him.
*
Dana
A warm midday breeze licked Dana’s face and tugged at her hair. Three golden eagles, wings spread out, flat and wide, drifted lazily on currents of air overhead. With Levi returned and the horses close by, the land felt more peaceful than lonely. If not for the circumstances, a short stay here would be no hardship. She could do some work with Tanoa.
She set the to-go cup on the stoop next to her and opened the bag. Chocolate croissants were her favorite. Was it something he’d remembered, or a lucky guess on his part?
Lucky guess. Had to be. Everyone liked chocolate.
But the gesture was thoughtful and so typical of him. Especially given how last night had ended.
She took a bite of the flakey crust. Buttery deliciousness clung to her tongue. She washed the bite down with a sip of thick, dark-roast coffee, fantastic despite its now-tepid state, and not only because she’d started the day before the sun rose, and without caffeine. She checked the logo on the paper cup with respect. The Wayside Café knew its business.
Behind her, the door opened, then closed with a soft metal scrape as its latch snicked into place. Levi settled on the stoop, his thigh maintaining a respectful distance from hers. He studied the sworls on the toes of his weathered boots. A tensed muscle jerked in his jaw.
“I’m so sorry,” Dana said, even though she knew from experience how painfully inadequate those words were. “This must be very hard for you.”
“This isn’t about me,” he said. “Otto’s a good guy and he deserves to go out with dignity, but he’s not always easy to reason with once he gets a thought in his head. I don’t know why he’s dragged you into this. You sure you’re okay with staying here for a while? Missing your races?”
Neither one of us is going to Las Vegas.
“I’m sure,” she said. She’d registered for the McCone County PRCA rodeo next, and if she had to pull out it was going to hurt her bottom line, but some things were more important. She’d waited this long. She could wait a while longer. “Lady could use a rest and Crackerjack is out of practice.”
Crackerjack had developed an edginess that she no longer trusted. He didn’t trust her anymore either, not after the tumble they’d taken, and she’d have to work hard to reclaim it.
“I’m not only staying because of Tanoa,” she added, worried Levi might think her motives were purely self-serving. “I like Otto. I’m happy to help him for as long as he needs me. I’ve never nursed anyone before, though.”
“You won’t have to do any nursing. Just sit with him and keep him company when he needs it. I’ll help him take care of the personal stuff. I’ll sleep on his floor, and you can sleep in your camper. I’ll hook it up to the water supply and the generator for you.”
She got the message buried in what he was saying—that Otto was their priority, so they were going to pretend last night never happened. She reached for his hand. Her relief over that was tremendous.
Yet her aggravation was equally intense. She always seemed to be apologizing to him. While she wanted to clear up the awkwardness between them, explaining her feelings had never been easy for her, and her relationship with Tanner had left a deep scar on her soul that had never quite healed.
“About last night,” she began, then wasn’t sure where to take it from there.
She didn’t want to get into the messy details of the last days of their relationship with one of Tanner’s closest friends. Besides, she wasn’t blameless. She should have ended things when she realized they weren’t planning for the same future.
She and Levi were still holding hands. She tried to extract hers, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“No worries. You aren’t the first woman to mistake me for Chris Evans by moonlight,” he said, his eyes smiling at her despite the straight set of his lips. Then, his lips followed suit. “Well actually, yes, you are. My ego thanks you for your confusion. Please don’t ruin it for me.”
“You’re so silly.” And his eyes were so blue .
She couldn’t tear hers away. His was a gaze meant to be worn like a comfortable robe—warm and deep and soft against naked skin. Blue eyes, so steady and calm, reminded her again of the promises they held, and heated her in places a man’s hands couldn’t reach. She’d lain awake most of the night, imagining all the places they could.
If she had to spend a few nights alone out here with him, with no one but Otto any the wiser, she might resort to begging, after all, because, when it came to personal matters, she wasn’t ready to go it alone.
And sitting in the sunshine, with Levi holding her hand, she felt a whole lot less alone than she’d felt in a very long time.
*
Later, after they’d unhitched her truck and set up her camper, she drove into Grand to buy enough food to last them a week. She called her parents from the supermarket parking lot to let them know where she was, about the situation with Otto, that she was okay, and no, she didn’t need anything from them.
When she emerged from the store with the groceries, a tiny boutique in a strip mall caught her attention. A scantily clad mannequin in the front window indicated offerings of high-end feminine undergarments inside.
The boutique had the misfortune of residing next to a children’s clothing store, although upon further consideration, perhaps the boutique’s location was strategic. Children wouldn’t exist without sex.
And as well as the children’s clothing and lingerie stores, the mall housed a business called The Rage Room. With a supermarket nearby, the target demographic appeared to lean toward stay-at-home moms with money to burn.
The lingerie store beckoned her. She had a weakness for frilly items. She liked the sense of privacy and freedom that wearing pretty underwear gave her. It was her way of reminding herself that the Lady Dana image she presented to the public was not who she was.
She packed the groceries in her truck, then crossed the parking lot and the street to the small strip mall on the far side.
A discreetly lettered sign in its window proclaimed the lingerie boutique to be Mayhem’s Private Moments . A bell tinkled when she opened the door.
A stunning, chestnut-haired beauty, who had to be six feet of curvy slenderness at least, lifted stunning eyes from a binder she perused at the counter. Light flowing through the store window touched her goddess face and turned her eyes a dark, liquid gold. Her friendly smile of welcome held no vanity at all, only sweetness.
Dana couldn’t help but fall a little in love with her, as most of the world undoubtedly did. She was no slouch in the looks department herself, but this woman was in a class all her own, because her creator had tossed a warm personality into the mix. What on earth was she doing selling lingerie in a small town like Grand, when she could be working the runways of Europe?
“Hi,” the goddess said, her voice cheerfully angelic. She no doubt sang like an angel too, because why not have it all? “I’m Meredith. Feel free to look around. If you have any questions, just ask.”
Dana had a few preferences for things that fit well, but she didn’t see any signs for the designers she favored. Other than price tags, there were no signs at all. “What brands do you carry?”
“Everything is designed and handcrafted by me. I custom-make items too,” Meredith said, as if hand stitching custom lingerie was a skill anyone could master. “And it’s all machine washable.”
Dana had died and gone to heaven. She spent far too long in the shop, considering she had groceries growing warm in the truck, and bags of ice in a cooler, but everything was so pretty, and Meredith was so nice. She finally settled on a handful of panties and a few lacy bras that cost far more than she should spend but was unable to resist.
Meredith wrapped her purchases in tissue paper and packed them carefully in a bag, handling them as if they were fragile, and passed them over as if presenting a gift. She got a particular look in her eyes, as if undecided about raising a subject more intimate than panties, and Dana knew what was coming.
“Forgive me for asking, but are you Dana Barrett?”
“I am.” And here it was.
“I went to school with Tanner and Tate. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Dana said. This was Tanner’s hometown. She’d known what to expect.
But the feelings …
Somehow, being in a place that had known Tanner so well, but hadn’t really known him, magnified the breathlessness talking about him always caused.
Bag in hand, she left the store.
And bumped into Tanner’s sister leaving Jax in the Box , the children’s clothing store next door.
Blond, pretty Tate Shannahan, who looked so much like her brother, pushed a toddler in a stroller and carried a baby in a snuggly nestled close to her chest. Dana was acutely aware of the store she’d just left, and the bag she clutched with Mayhem’s Private Moments proudly emblazoned on it.
Neither woman knew what to say or who should speak first. Grand was small, yes. But what were the odds of them running into each other? Lady Dana, who’d gotten her through more than one unwelcome interview in the past, woke up and put herself to good use.
“Hi,” she said, fixing her fan-smile in place, as if she saw Tate every day and this was a normal occurrence.
“Dana. What a surprise,” Tate replied. “I had no idea you were in town.”
Dana had always found it best to keep explanations short and to the point—especially when one wasn’t owed—and followed up by changing the subject as quickly as possible. “I’m just passing through. Who are these little darlings?”
She rolled up her purchases and stowed them under her arm, then dropped to her heels, putting her on the same level as the green-eyed cutie in the stroller, and ignored the expanding ache in her heart. Her baby would be about the same age as this one, if she hadn’t put racing first.
“This is Iris. She’s Miles Decker’s daughter. And this little guy is Tanner—Iris’s new baby brother. He’s two weeks old tomorrow.” Tate rubbed the baby’s wee bottom, which bulged out of the snuggly.
Miles Decker was a former bull riding champion who now worked at the Endeavour Ranch. Dana had heard that he and Tate were a couple, but she hadn’t known they had a baby together. While it made perfect sense that they would name their son after Tate’s twin, the news nevertheless stole Dana’s breath. The expression of utter joy on Tate’s face was another blow to the heart. It took her a moment to figure out why.
Jealousy.
She was jealous, Dana realized in shock, past the dull roar in her head. Tate’s life had come together, whereas hers was in limbo. It seemed Tanner’s grieving sister hadn’t suffered the same sort of public scrutiny that she’d had to endure.
She coaxed a smile out of Iris, who proved to be a sweet, pleasant child, and offered a few polite words of congratulations to Tate that later, she couldn’t recall. She made her way to her truck, and out of the parking lot, then onto the road toward Otto’s ranch, before she had to pull over and talk common sense to herself.
Jealousy was the one emotion she refused to accept. She was in charge of her own fate. If her life was in limbo, it was self-imposed. It wasn’t Tanner’s fault, or Tate’s, or anyone else’s.
She’d chosen competition. She’d chosen Tanner, too. Both came with a level of public scrutiny from rodeo fans that she’d known to expect, whether she liked it or not. And public was the one area of her life where Lady Dana, no matter how much she disliked her, had proved herself useful.
The bag on the seat beckoned to her. Mayhem’s Private Moments…
What Dana did in private was nobody’s business.