Chapter 17
THE CHANGE IN Naomi’s father in twenty-four hours was staggering. Ethan agreed to tear up the papers and see that John took all of his antibiotics.
The insurance adjuster appeared on time and Naomi was pleased with the amount she would receive. Ethan agreed to get someone to haul the burnt mess away.
They ordered a pizza and shared it with Ethan, ending the day recounting pleasant memories of favorite times in states other than Wyoming or Montana.
Trent slept on the couch that night. The following day they got up early to leave. Ethan hugged Naomi and shook Trent’s hand.
“Thanks, man,” Ethan said, his manner grateful and serious and much more accepting now, “you can come back anytime.”
Naomi raised her eyebrows and stifled a chuckle. “You just may see him sooner than you think. Trent might be my first ranch hand if I get that place out on Silver Road.
Ethan’s eyes went wide. “Hey, it’s your money, sis. Do what you want. I wouldn’t pick that place for you, but I like the sound of you not having to drive long distances in all kinds of weather.”
“Me, too.”
Naomi insisted on driving for the first hour. They got in the car after she checked on her father and then waved to Ethan as they left.
“Your brother’s all right.” Trent pushed his seat back even farther to accommodate his legs as Naomi navigated the quiet highway. The sun had just begun its climb, casting long shadows across the snow-dusted fields.
“Yeah, Ethan’s a good guy,” Naomi said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “We’re different, but he’s always been there for me. Even when I didn’t want him to be.”
Trent chuckled. “That’s family for you.” He leaned his head against the window, the motion of the car relaxing him. “I’ve got two brothers myself. Both older. They taught me a lot about ranching … and how to dodge punches during arguments.”
Naomi grinned. “Let me guess. You’re the peacekeeper?”
“Most of the time,” Trent admitted. “But sometimes, you’ve gotta stand your ground. What about you? Were you and Ethan close growing up?”
She hesitated, her hands tightening on the wheel. “Not really. He was the wild one, always pushing boundaries. I was the rule follower. After Mom passed, I think we switched roles a bit. He calmed down, and I started taking more risks—like chasing a career that keeps me on the road half the year.”
“Sounds like you found your balance, though,” Trent said.
“Maybe.” Naomi glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “But lately, I’ve been thinking about slowing down. But you know that.”
Trent gazed at her. “That place on Silver Road could be the start of something good for you.”
“For you, too, Mr. Wanderer,” she corrected with a teasing smile.
Trent laughed, shaking his head. “Well, you haven’t even hired me yet and I’m scared you might not after I, uh, took that little liberty with you.”
She looked over at him longer than she should have and said, “Give me liberty or give me death.”
He laughed. Any residual awkwardness was gone after that.
They shared a smile, and the miles passed with ease as they exchanged more personal stories—childhood memories, favorite foods, and even a few embarrassing moments that had them in stitches.
By the time they reached Montana, they were both eager to get back to the Olsens’ ranch. Naomi started talking about Ruby and Trent started thinking about the fantastic meals Mason and Taylor made. As they pulled into the long driveway, the familiar sight of the house and barns greeted them.
But something was off.
A cluster of vehicles—and one police car—were parked haphazardly near the main house, and several people were gathered outside, their faces tense.
“What’s going on?” Naomi murmured, pulling up beside the fence.
Trent leaned forward, his brow furrowing. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.”
They parked and hurried toward the house, where Sophie Olsen was speaking with a man in a sheriff’s uniform. Colton and Taylor stood nearby, their expressions grim.
Sophie spotted them and rushed over, her face pale. “Naomi, Trent, thank goodness you’re back.”
“What happened?” Naomi asked, her voice filled with concern.
“It’s Levi,” Sophie said, her voice trembling. “He took off early this morning. Left a note saying he couldn’t stay here anymore. We have no idea where he went … if he walked or if he hitchhiked.”
Trent’s jaw tightened.
“Oh, dear,” Sophie said, her eyes glistening. “He might have headed toward the mountains, but he doesn’t know the terrain, and with the weather turning … he’s going to freeze to death.”
Trent placed a reassuring hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Are the police getting a search party together?”
Sophie shook her head. “No, they won’t do anything. They say he was allowed to leave of his own free will. He’s technically not a missing person. We’re trying to get permission for Mason and Wyatt to go out looking … unsupervised.”
“Oh, right.” Trent remembered the strict stipulations that didn’t apply to him or Levi. “I … I think I know where to look.” He glanced over at his truck; it had accumulated an inch of snow since they’d been gone. He peered at Naomi. “You want to drive? It’s not far.”
***
They hadn’t gone one mile before Trent asked Naomi to pull over and let him drive. He was familiar with the area and she wasn’t, plus he was anxious to prove his theory where Levi had gone.
The cemetery was on the outskirts of Clearwater, on the other side of town. It would have been a long, cold walk for Levi, but Trent assumed he would have gotten a ride. People here picked up hitchhikers without worry.
“Where are we going?” Naomi asked when Trent pulled up next to the sign Mountain View Gardens. “To a graveyard?”
“Yeah, the gates are closed. I’ll have to walk in. I think I see him. Way, way back there. Look.” He pointed over her shoulder and she swung her head to look out the passenger window.
“Why would he be here?”
Trent unbuckled his seat belt and said, “I’ll tell you later. Stay here.” He got out and looked around. He could swing open the gates without a problem and drive in, but he decided going in on foot would be better. He didn’t want to spook Levi on this frosty January day.
He approached the wrought-iron gates, squeaked one side open enough to walk through, and left it like that. The paths leading to various rows were blanketed in a thick layer of pristine snow. The biting chill made his breath visible, puffing out in steady clouds.
The snow-covered ground beyond was undisturbed, and the gravestones stood like silent sentinels under the pale winter sun. He pulled his coat tighter against the cold, his footsteps leaving a solitary trail as he walked through the hallowed ground.
“Levi?” he called, the sound of his voice echoing eerily in the stillness. He could see him sitting as still as every monument here. He glanced at the markers he passed, reading dates from the 1800s and names like Rufus and Horace. Levi was in the newest section, a long walk to the far end.
Trent wrestled with what his first words should be. Give me the right words, Lord.
He glanced back at the car and noted Naomi’s face, faint through the glass. Maybe he should have had her come. Women were better at words and feelings and coaxing broken souls to open up.
“Hey, man,” he said as softly as he could when he reached Levi. The poor guy was leaning against a tombstone with his wife’s name clearly visible. “You all right?” He lowered himself down to squat next to the stone. Levi didn’t lift his eyes, didn’t acknowledge Trent.
Trent let the silence linger. The wind rustled faintly through the nearby evergreens, carrying with it an air of solemnity. Finally, Trent spoke again, his voice steady but gentle.
“I figured I might find you here,” he said. “It’s a good place to think. Quiet.”
Levi’s eyes remained fixed on the name etched into the cold granite.
“Mrs. Olsen is real worried about you. Nobody wants you to freeze to death.”
Still, there was no answer from Levi.
“They said you left a note.”
Levi’s voice, when it came, was hoarse. “I don’t know how to keep going.”
Trent shifted to sit cross-legged on the frozen ground, ignoring the biting chill seeping through his jeans. “I get that. Losing someone you love … it’s like having a part of yourself ripped away. Feels impossible to fill that space again.”
Levi’s hands trembled as they rested on his knees. “She was everything. She saw the good in me when no one else did. Now … now I don’t know who I am without her.”
Trent nodded, his gaze dropping to the snow. “She’ll always be a part of you. The love you shared doesn’t just end. Tell me about her.”
Levi looked up for the first time, his red-rimmed eyes filled with pain. He started to open his mouth, then shook his head. “Just let me sit here and … die.”
Trent placed a firm but kind hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Can’t do that, man. But I’ll sit with you for a while, then, well, I’ll carry you to Naomi’s car and take you back to the farm.”
Levi swallowed hard, his jaw working as he fought back tears. “It’s been two years, and it still feels like yesterday. I don’t want to go to the Olsens’ farm … I have my own farm … but I can’t go back there either.”
Trent’s grip tightened slightly. “You mean you’re not homeless? Like me?”
Levi’s lips tightened up and he barely nodded. “I don’t know why you’re bothering with me. I’m not worth it.”
“Don’t say that. You are worth it, Levi.
We all believe in you. You’ve got people who care about you—Sophie, Holger, Colton, Wyatt …
me. Even Naomi, though she doesn’t know you well yet, but she’s concerned about you, too.
We just drove all the way back from Wyoming and we hurried out here to find you.
You’re not as alone as you think. It’s just going to take you a while longer to start moving forward. You can do it.”
Levi blinked rapidly, finally allowing a tear to slip free. “I don’t know if I can do it, man. Move forward.”
“You can,” Trent said firmly. “And when you feel like you can’t, you lean on us. That’s what we’re here for. What God put us here for.”
For the first time, Levi’s shoulders sagged, some of the tension leaving his body. “Thanks,” he murmured, “for saying that. That’s what she always said.”
Trent smiled faintly. “Tell me about her.”
Levi nodded, his gaze returning to the gravestone. “She’d like you,” he said softly.
Trent didn’t respond, just stayed beside him, offering his presence and a steady anchor in the bitter cold.
“She was fun and funny and a good cook. She liked to paint. She took care of all our animals …” He sighed. “I gave them all away after she …”
Suddenly, Levi pushed himself to his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I think I’m ready to head back.”
Trent rose with him, brushing snow off his jeans. “Good. Another minute and I’d have frozen my you-know-whats off.”
“Dude,” Levi gave him a look, “Mrs. O. can’t hear you. You can say balls.”
Trent snorted.
***
Naomi watched the guys head toward the car. She knew exactly why Levi had come to the cemetery. She’d googled Levi Turner on her phone and found an article about his wife’s death. She sniffed and sniffled through the reading of the tragic incident. No wonder the man was half-crazed with grief.
But one interesting fact caught her attention: they’d lived on a farm.
It didn’t take much more research and she found several pictures of his spread.
It looked ten times better than the place she wanted to buy.
She wondered if he still owned it. Perhaps they’d only been renting it and after she died he couldn’t afford it, hence the homelessness.
She put the phone away and hopped out to let Levi in the front, but he waved her off and climbed in the back seat, shoving aside Trent’s bag.
“You okay?” She reached back and turned on the rear seat heaters. “You must be freezing.”
He grunted. Trent got in the driver’s seat and nodded at Naomi. “He’ll be fine. He’s tough. And so am I, in case you were wondering.”
Naomi turned to face forward, getting the hint. No one spoke on the ride to the ranch.