Can't Resist a Cowboy (13 page)

How could she expect him not to turn resentful of the care she’d need—hell, needed now—and the struggles her disability would bring? He might love her, but she couldn’t ask this of him. And she couldn’t stop the fear.

“Talk to me.” Levi put one big hand on the table as if he was holding himself back. She leaned against the arch between the kitchen and living room and pulled the sweater tighter. The only way to get through this was to face it head-on. No more dreaming about things she couldn’t have.

“I’m going back to Wyoming.”

His face was strained, the creases across his forehead and around his eyes deep. This was the man who’d been to war, not once but twice. Who’d seen death and felt terror and had been subjected to soul-deep trauma. And here she was, causing him more pain by trying to save him the trouble of her.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered softly when he didn’t reply.

The line of his jaw jumped a few times before he wet his lower lip and spread his hands wide. “I don’t want you to go. That should be obvious. The whole ‘I love you’ thing and all that.” The bitterness in his voice hurt, but she didn’t expect any less.

“We have history, Levi.”

“Yes, we do.”

“And history repeats itself, right? You went away, and left me behind because of my health. And then I went away because of my health. And here we are, right back where we started and it’s already gone wrong.” She wanted to run her hands through his messy hair and follow the strands with her fingers. Pull him close and inhale deeply of the fresh air and warmth that always followed him—commit every line and sound and taste of him to memory.

“This is going to keep happening to me, Levi. Like it always has. And…I’m scared. Of what it will mean for us, down the line.”

He slapped the table, tipping his head to the side like he was trying to truly understand. “Of course it is. It will. You think I don’t know that? God, Carrie, I’m here to help you. To be
with you
, no matter what.” He advanced on her, taking her face between his hands. “Do you think my family gave up on me when I was broken? Of course not. Why do you think I’m still here?”

His scent and warmth gave her a rush of strength and peace stronger than any medicine. It would be easy to believe him, if she could get past the continual replay of worry. What if he hadn’t come inside the house when he had? It was a sickening revolution of “what if?” that refused to stop. Those two words had been engrained in her since she was small, and she couldn’t just make them go away.

“I don’t know how to not be afraid, Levi.” It was a constant storm inside her, always rain. “As much as I love you, that’s not something you can help me with.”

“Leaving me is your answer then?” His stony voice razed her to the bone.

“I don’t have an answer. I’m just doing what’s familiar and safe until I figure it out.”

He looked up to the ceiling, his shoulders and back relaxing as if the anger were melting away. “Then you should go. You’re right, you
should
go.”

She sagged a bit against the wall, tears flashing into her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them run. The less they hashed this out, the better, before she changed her mind and saddled him with a life he’d come to regret. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if he grew to resent her.

Levi cleared his throat. “It was a mistake to think this would work.”

“Levi—”

“Does it make it easier for you when I say that?”

Tears fell. This had to end, right now. “Please go.” He reached for her, one light grip bringing her to his chest, his lips on hers with a soft, lasting demand, wrenching her heart.

He jerked away from her and strode to the door and walked out, slamming it. His retreating form was a blur, the pain in her chest double what it had been the last time he’d walked out. This time, she had asked him to.

Chapter Twenty-One

He’d always been a risk-taker. As a kid, he’d gone head-to-head with things his brothers shied away from, like free-climbing in the lower peaks of Blue Head Mountain not far from the ranch. A little powder for his hands, shoes with a good sole, some rope to rappel down with, and a lot of determination was all he needed. He’d dig his fingers and toes into crevices in the mountain face and pull himself up, scaling high. Sometimes, the rock had been smooth and offered little grip, but he’d keep searching until he found a hold, and he wouldn’t quit until he’d reached the top.

Never once had he looked down.

He’d left for the military, knowing full well there was a war going on and he was taking a chance with his life. But he’d gone for the experience, with his head held high, and never looked back. Now, he’d taken a risk with Carrie. No safety nets, no regrets. Just him and her and the love he had coursing through him like fire. She’d pushed him off the cliff and he was falling in his first free fall.

There wasn’t anything to grab on to, to slow him down.

Fear had gotten the better of both of them. The clock on his nightstand flipped to 2:00 a.m. A day plus some separated now from the moment she’d asked him to leave. He’d resolved to give her some time to rest, maybe think—change her mind, if he was lucky. Darren probably wouldn’t let him within ten feet of her at the moment, too afraid Levi would try to change her mind again—to take a risk.

How could he ask that of her and keep a clear conscience? Her life in Wyoming was set the way it was for a reason: security. He could offer her money, stability, love. But he couldn’t take the risk away, and he couldn’t ask her to take chances she didn’t want.

Frustrated, Levi stood from the edge of his bed and walked through the room. In fourteen hours, his mother would be getting married. He’d worked with Cole and Tucker all day, getting things ready. What a bittersweet kick in the ass that was going to be. Her marriage to their father had been a loveless one, born of duty, mostly. After Cooper Haywood’s death three years ago, his mom was free to reconnect with Jim Guilfoyle, whom she’d secretly loved for years. Tomorrow, she was going to marry the man she thought she’d never have.

A genuine pang of happiness touched his heart. His mother deserved this joy, and it was his honor to walk her down the aisle tomorrow and give her away to her best friend. Even if it was going to be hard to keep self-pity out of it.

Levi yanked the bedroom door open. The hallway was dark, the house quiet when he paused to listen. It was just him, his ma, and his niece Birdie, who liked to spend the night every now and then. They were at the other end of the house, which would make them oblivious to his being up at this hour.

Still in the jeans he’d worked in all day, Levi padded the hallway to the basement staircase, needing to ease off some of the tension. He’d go into the gym and force his legs to carry him through a beating on the treadmill. And then he’d sulk through the pain that followed, letting it clog his brain. After that, he had a date with a bottle of Jack. No peppers.

Cracking his neck from side to side, he trotted down and went into the bedroom that had been converted into a workout room. His iPod lay draped over the treadmill from the last time he’d forced himself through a run. Putting in his earphones, he cranked up Macklemore and started the machine.

Ten minutes into it, his thighs were aching but he ignored it. He’d fought long and hard to be able to stand up and walk on his own. Damn it, he was going to run as far and as fast as he fucking wanted to. Punishment? Sure. Bring it. He was a marine, and one who was good at being numb. Right now, he needed numbness to help him forget there was a woman a mile away who was once again out of reach.

The pain jacked higher, ripping through his left leg and making him stumble. Levi grabbed the bar and steadied himself, grunting with the exertion it took to find his rhythm again. Completely numb now, his mind began to drift. A familiar pattern of patchwork desert tan and brown. So much neutral with barely definable lines to separate the horizon from the ground. Even the sky was tan some days, hidden by hazy clouds the color of the sand.

He was a shape in a colorless world, until he looked down and saw the stripes of red soaking into the sand. Stark, brilliant, and beautiful in a way of color over monotony, the crimson drew his eyes as it turned to a deep purple and then a muddy shade of brown. Levi shook his head to fight the memory. He recalled the night he’d been blown up less and less now, but when it did happen, one thing always stood out: brown eyes looking down at him as his body pulsed more crimson into the dirt.

Eyes that crinkled at the corners, and long, dark lashes that framed the perfect almond shape of each. He’d imagined those eyes for years, months. It was the essence of her that came through.

Sweat dripping down his forehead, Levi grabbed the rail again as his legs began to shake. How long had he run this time? He’d lost count, not that it mattered. Some of the tension had lessened inside him, though it was there, ready to make a swift comeback if he didn’t control it. Wiping his hand on his pants, he turned down the machine, grappling to get a good breath through the pain slicing his legs. He ran the hem of his T-shirt over his face and pulled the headphones from his ears.

He made it to the bathroom for a drink, then unsteadily forced himself back to the stairway where he plopped down on the third step up. Doubled over, he breathed through the agony.

I’m not fragile.
He recalled Carrie’s words and wished they were true. She was fragile, sometimes. So was he, like now, when his body was riddled with pain and he couldn’t do anything but wait it out. They could find a way to cushion each other in times when strength was hard to find. There had to be a way.

He stood, suddenly tired. His left knee buckled under his body weight. Levi grabbed the stair rail and found his center. He hated when his twenty-six-year-old body acted like it was ninety. One foot on each step, he closed his eyes. He went up one more, kept his feet braced with one on each rise, never allowing them to meet on the same step. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. Carrie’s face had been slick with sweat, her skin pale and clammy. He’d never felt skin that cold on a live person.

This is going to keep happening to me.

Levi put a hand on his knee and leaned low to catch his breath. Why did it have to hurt so badly? Rising up with a tight sigh, he wiped sweat from his face and eyed the railing. Screw it, he needed to sit, just for a minute.

He sat and hung his head, concentrating on his breathing. Hating himself for being weak…for not having answers.

“Uncle Levi?” The timid voice cut through his head. “Are you hurt?”

Birdie. At the very top, feet crossed, one little hand on the rail as she peered down at him.

He tried to smile. “A little bit, honey. But don’t tell Grandma. I’ll be okay.”

A soft shuffle from above. “I need help.” The sweetness of her voice gave him goose bumps. He hung his head over his knees again, just for a second. Everything was fine, going back to normal. The pain was almost gone. “Daddy told me I wasn’t allowed to wake up Grandma unless there was a ’mergency.”

“Are
you
hurt?” His pulse started to slow, his skin cooling.

“No.” Another soft sliding noise, as if she were on her butt and coming down the stairs one by one. A shiver went over him.
No, sweetheart, no.
It was bad enough she was seeing him like this, battered and weak; he didn’t need her up close and personal.

“What’s wrong?” The lump in his throat made it hard to talk. That and the intermittent zaps of pain-filled electricity running along his leg.

“I lost a tooth.” One final thump and he was awash in the smell of fruity shampoo and freshly washed kid. That he was spent and limp and sweating like a pig didn’t faze her a bit; one little hand popped into his view with a tiny tooth in the middle of her palm. “See?”

Birdie’s feet were crossed right next to his shoulder, the fluff of her neon pink tutu with silver glitter on the hem sticking straight up. He reached over and picked up the tooth, giving her what he hoped was a grin.

“That’s a fine tooth.”

“Why are you sittin’ on the stairs?”

Good question. “Because I’m tired,” he said. She moved closer, the fluff tickling his face as she stood. And then her warm hand was gripping his left one, the embrace of her fingers strong for such a tiny girl.

“I’ll help you. Come on.”

The lump in his throat worked its way down the very center of his chest. Birdie tenderly patted his hand. “Come on,” she said again, as if encouraging a reluctant puppy. She paused a minute, then leaned closer. “If you’re not ready, I’ll wait.”

“Why?” The question burst out of him. It was the middle of the night, and he was on the bottom, feeling sorry for himself. Here she was, all pink and little and cute, with her hand holding on to his as if she could singularly bring him up.

“Because I love you.”

Levi gripped Birdie’s hand gently, trying and failing to hold back the sob-like sound that came out of him. She tilted her head, brow furrowed. “Daddy waited for you. Grandma, too. And Uncle Tuck.”

“They did?” Yeah, they had. He knew. The times he’d had leave, but hadn’t come home, too scared he’d be a deserter and stay put. When he’d been broken and cursing at everyone and hating himself while his body healed, they’d waited.

“When you were in the army.”

He gave a fake cringe. “Marines.”

Birdie giggled. “Daddy says love is patient.” She fluffed her skirt. Levi’s brows knit together; he was at a loss as to what to say. A few minutes ago, he’d been drowning in discomfort and pity, and now he was getting words of wisdom from a six-year-old with one front tooth. “When did you get so smart, Birdie?”

She shrugged, but a smug smile curved her pink lips. “Daddy had to wait for Rylan. He loved her a lot before.”

Levi handed her back her tooth. “Before what?”

She frowned at him as if he should know. “Before she said yes!”

Cole was the most impatient person Levi knew. It was hard to imagine him waiting on a woman. Rylan had been through a lot before she came to Paint River to work as a housekeeper. He recalled Cole telling him about it—how she’d lost her daughter in an accident and didn’t have it in her to take on a new family.

So Cole had waited her out. With that big, stubborn heart of his, Cole probably did anything in his power to convince her—even if he didn’t have all the answers.

Birdie pulled on his sleeve. “I need you to put my tooth under my pillow for the tooth fairy. Come on.”

With a groan, he got up, feeling an ache in every muscle along his chest and back and thighs, but it didn’t hurt anymore. She guided him like he was a baby learning to walk. It was cute, enduring, and sweet as anything, and he’d needed this break from his emotions. Hand in hand, they went up, the swish of her skirt brushing against his leg as she rambled on about her chicken named Fred Bologna.

She was as patient as could be, yakking his ear off, tugging him along. He may have gone slower just to prolong the moment.

“We made it,” Levi huffed as they reached the top and crossed to the living room. Mentally and physically worn, he laid on his back on the hardwood floor, too worn to drag himself to the couch, arms outstretched as coolness from the wood seeped through his shirt.

“Birdie, grab two pillows off the couch, okay?”

He heard her little feet as she scrambled to do what he’d asked. And then softness was under his head and he told Birdie to lie down next to him and put her tooth under her pillow. And his breathing evened out to the sound of crickets coming in from outside. The patter of light rain on the roof started a bit later. Birdie’s little body was snug against his side, her breathing slow and even.

He reached into his pocket and dug around for the twenty-dollar bill he’d put in there earlier, and carefully replaced the tooth with it. He grinned a bit. Cole would have a fit at the precedent the tooth fairy had just set. Birdie deserved it and more, because she’d just shown him that it didn’t matter if you were physically strong. It was the strength of the heart, and the love inside it, that counted.

Levi let himself drift off again, to the smell of bubblegum shampoo and the warmth of his little niece, comforting and strong, next to him. He absorbed the lazy sound of dying rain as his mind slipped into a hazy state. He saw the patchwork of beige and tan again, his memory slipping back to that place…that day that had wounded him.

He’d daydreamed about going back to Carrie. When he’d been lost, walking a line between military man and cowboy, he’d think of Carrie and it would become clear. He had Paint River dirt ingrained in his skin, deeply, to the bone, and love for one beautiful woman cycling through his heart. He’d never be free of her, never wanted to be. She’d been there as deeply inside him as the ranch, and in every daydream, he found his way back to her.

Even as he lay in the sand, staring at the star-studded sky, his body bleeding into the hot, packed sand beneath him. He’d seen her eyes in the stars, imagined her voice telling him to hold on. His brain had concocted all of it, of course, but even thinking of it now gave him a chill. She’d been his angel. He’d remembered that he had to get back to her. It had driven him to find the strength to flip onto his stomach, nearly biting through the flesh on his forearm to keep from screaming through the pain. As he began to pull himself forward with his arms, useless legs dragging behind, each inch ripping through him like razor-sharp teeth, he’d clung to her—he had to make it home.

A recon unit had intercepted him. He couldn’t remember feeling relief—his last memory of that night was grabbing the front of a medic’s uniform and pulling him closer. “Tell Carrie I’m comin’ home.”

She’d had so much impact on his life…how could he give up now?

Love waits. He’d wait for
her
this time.

Careful not to disturb Birdie, Levi sat and pushed to his feet. Carrie loved him; he knew she did. They didn’t have answers today, but he wasn’t going to give up. He’d wait, and if he could find the right words, maybe she’d wait, too.