The Promise of Rayne Page 12

  “If we do this, if we become friends”—he emphasized the word—“there’ll be some rules.”

  She bristled, her glass clinking on the counter beside her hip. “I have enough rules to follow at the moment.”

  “Relax.” He ticked a finger in the air. “That’s the first one. I don’t want to pal around with high-society Rayne. I want the girl who was here the other night with me—laughing, joking, being real. The version of you that doesn’t care about disheveled hair or pants made out of a barn sheet.”

  “Fine.”

  “And two, I won’t keep secrets from Ford. If you want to sneak around your family, that’s one thing, but don’t ask me to hide you. I won’t. That old man means everything to me. Which leads me to three.” He moved in close enough to see the flecks of green and gold in her eyes. “You can believe what you want to about him, but I don’t take well to disrespect, especially when it comes to the people I love.”

  “Yet it’s okay for you to bad-mouth my family every five minutes?”

  “How ’bout we simply agree to disagree. If we can’t find other topics to discuss, then maybe this whole thing is as broken as it seems.”

  “We can,” she said with a confidence that took him by surprise. “You’re more than Ford’s apprentice and I’m more than my last name.”

  The sudden desire to touch that adorable dimple in her chin had him retreating a step, and then another. Perhaps the scent of her hair—that honeysuckle-lilac combination—was messing with his brain waves. He needed a breather and quite possibly an impulse-control check.

  “I need to head into town for a meeting.” He’d be able to think clearer on a drive, analyze how this agreement could affect Ford, the farm, their bottom line.

  “Alright,” she said.

  “Alright.” Levi repeated the word for no apparent reason and spanned the living room in six steps to open the front door for Rayne.

  At his prompting, she stepped onto the porch.

  “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?” he asked.

  Her shoulders sagged a few inches. “Sleeping.”

  “Aren’t you a little young to be scheduling nap times?”

  “My hours changed at the lodge.” She scanned the farm again, searching the orchard before stepping onto the gravel drive. “Starting tomorrow I’ll be working the graveyard shift.”

  Even with her back to him it was easy to deduce the change hadn’t been her idea. “Who changed your schedule? The blonde you told me about?”

  “The fake blonde. And yes.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, a weak smile tugging at her lips. “But it will be fine.”

  “You just broke rule number one.”

  She turned, eyebrows raised. “What—how?”

  “That was a pathetic attempt to save face. You hate the new schedule. Admit it.”

  Her lips twitched and gave way to a grin that tugged at his gut. “I hate it.”

  “Better.” He winked at her. “Now, hand me your phone.”

  “I think you mean, May I please have your phone, Rayne.”

  He tried it her way, drawing out the word please until she let out a laugh.

  “Better,” she mocked. “But I don’t have it on me. Not a lot of sundresses have pockets, if you haven’t noticed.”

  Oh, he’d noticed. Every single seam and sunflower. Levi took his phone out of his back pocket, swiped into his contacts, and placed the device into her open palm. She tapped his screen with her fingertip and added her number into the blank space.

  “Don’t suppose you’d accept a lift home?”

  Her you-can’t-seriously-be-asking-me-that expression was funnier than he’d imagined. “I’m joking.”

  He waited for her to slip through the slats of the white fence and disappear into the pasture beyond before climbing into his truck. The instant his engine fired, he slumped against the seat and rubbed at his temples, wondering when the last of his common sense had escaped him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Three days ago Rayne believed she knew everything there was to know about Shelby Lodge. But that was before she’d worked her first graveyard shift.

  Shadows slinked along walls, windows reflected like fun-house mirrors, and every single sound that pricked her eardrums seemed to reverberate her paranoia. Not even the most inviting spaces in the daylight were immune to the drop cloth of night. Darkness had transformed her familiar haven into a haunted house.

  At a quarter to four, she walked the length of the dim corridor toward the poorly lit lobby. She rubbed her arms, more to keep alert than to keep warm. No wonder Teddy had penned so many mysteries while working these unnerving hours.

  The floor creaked underfoot as she neared the front desk. She debated making coffee, but her conclusion remained the same as it’d been since her first shift. Messing with Delia’s programmed brew timer wouldn’t be worth the effort, not even for a much-needed caffeine boost.

  Truth be told, breaking a chronic morning person of their natural sleep cycle was like trying to force a bear to hibernate in summer. Staying up all night and sleeping away the day proved far more of a challenge than Rayne had expected. She wasn’t accustomed to spending so many hours alone. Even during her quietest day shift, there’d always been someone to talk to. Someone to assist. Someone to serve.

  Gia had dumped a pile of international art magazines at the front desk yesterday, and Delia had given her a book of Sudoku puzzles to pass the long hours. But not even her nightly routine of reading her favorite nonprofit blog posts had managed to fast-forward the clock. Or transport her into the future. Turned out, there was no secret time machine waiting for her inside any of these mind-numbing activities.

  Her phone was tucked in the back pocket of her jeans, but she’d long grown weary of checking the screen for missed calls and texts. Gia’s seventy-two-hour rule had proved to be true. She’d always said, If a man doesn’t contact you within three days of asking for your number, he never will.

  Probably for the best. What had she been thinking to go to the farm in broad daylight, or better yet, to ask for Levi’s friendship? What was she? In the sixth grade? Besides, what she felt when she was near him wasn’t the definition of platonic. It was . . . it was something far more intense. Something she refused to name. Something she’d spent the last three days trying to forget.

  The click, click, click of a slow-turning doorknob paired with the moan of brass hinges shot a bolt of fear down her spine.

  She’d memorized the code for Cal’s gun safe in her teen years—though that knowledge did little to help her in this moment. The study door had remained locked since he’d left town. She gripped the phone receiver on the front desk, her chest suddenly tight. The toe of a brown boot wedged its way into the gap and shoved the lobby door open.

  “How’s a guy supposed to know what you take in your coffee if you don’t answer your texts?”

  Levi.

  Her face must have asked the question her stunned mind wouldn’t form.

  “I texted you fifteen minutes ago. No response. Figured you were asleep on the job.”

  There he stood. In the entryway. Wearing distressed jeans and a snugly fit, faded-gray T-shirt. His golden-tipped hair was slightly disheveled in a lazy, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of way, yet it was the whole of him, his confident presence in her family’s lodge, that was nothing short of disorienting. “What are you doing here, Levi?”

  “Bringing you coffee.” He handed her a red-capped thermos and tapped the door closed with his heel. “Light cream with a hint of sweetness.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or to—

  “I think the response you’re searching for is thank you, Levi,” he said.

  “Yes, thank you. It’s just—”

  “You should really keep that door locked through the night.”

  Wait—was this actually happening right now?

  Levi’s gaze dragged down her legs, and her toes tingled inside her flats. Yep. She was defini
tely awake.

  “You’re wearing jeans,” he said.

  “Yes?”

  The side of his mouth quirked. “I approve.”

  “I wasn’t aware I’d asked for your approval.”

  “You didn’t. I’m just generous like that.” He tipped his thermos to his mouth and meandered his way through the lobby and into the parlor. “Looks a bit different in here when you’re not hosting a stuffy dinner party.”

  She trailed after him. “Are you always awake this early?”

  “Nope.” Offering no further explanation, he took another swig.

  “So . . . ?” Why are you here at four in the morning?

  He plopped onto a hunting-themed wingback chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. “So what? I thought we were supposed to be friends now.”

  Her eyebrows nearly touched her hairline. “I wasn’t sure what you thought since you hadn’t bothered to call.” She regretted the I’m-a-needy-girl statement the instant the words fell off her tongue.

  His gaze moved from where she stood fidgeting to the front door. “Are you expecting another visitor—a pack of zombies, maybe?”

  “I don’t think pack is the right terminology for zombies. You’re thinking of werewolves. Or maybe it’s vampires? I can’t be sure. I never really got into the whole fantasy movement, although Gia was obsessed with the Twilight series for a while, so I had to hear all about Team Edward and—”

  “Rayne.” He dipped his head toward the chair opposite him. “If I promise to be gone before your cook shows up, will you stop rambling and sit down for a minute? Please?”

  Face growing hot, she obliged, folding one leg underneath her in the chair.

  “Hi,” he said through a smooth smile.

  One spoken word with ten thousand possible interpretations.

  “Hi,” she replied.

  His triumphant expression vibrated her insides, and she lifted her thermos to cut the tension coiling in her belly. The taste of his coffee triggered a throaty “Mmm.”

  “What did you say was in this again?”

  “You like it?”

  “Very much. What sweetener did you use?”

  “Honey.”

  “In coffee?” She took another sip as if to dissect the flavor this time. “But there’s something else to it—”

  “Vanilla bean. One of my vendors swears by it. Turns out she was right. It’s pretty good, huh?”

  “Good is an understatement.” Rayne smiled and sank back a bit more in her seat. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “I’ll try a different variation on you next time.”

  Next time. Two words that wiggled themselves into the space between hope and desire.

  He held her gaze. “You up for a field trip after your shift ends? There’s another cup of coffee in it for you.”

  “A field trip? As in somewhere outside of Shelby Falls?”

  “I’m not stupid enough to ask you to go somewhere local with me, Rayne.”

  The bite of his words stung—or maybe it was the truth behind them.

  “How long is your uncle away on business?” he asked.

  “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it. Plus, we both know you wouldn’t have let me through that door if he was in town.”

  True. She pressed her palms to the warmth of the insulated mug. “He’ll be back sometime this weekend.”

  “So, I’m curious.” He hiked an eyebrow. “When the cat’s away does the mouse play?”

  “That philosophy doesn’t work when the cat has replaced himself with a pit bull.”

  Levi laughed and Rayne tossed a blue-and-red-plaid pillow at his face. “Be quiet. If Celeste hears you, you’re on your own.”

  “Fine by me.” He winked. “I seem to have a knack with Shelby women.”

  Rayne puckered her lips. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Celeste and I may share a last name, but we are nothing alike.”

  “How is she related to you exactly?” He popped the top of his thermos and drank the last of his coffee.

  “She’s my second cousin. My grandfather’s brother’s granddaughter.”

  Levi’s eyes bounced from left to right as if trying to picture the lineage. “Family trees have never been my strong suit. The upside to having no family, I suppose.”

  He chuckled at his joke, but Rayne didn’t see the humor. “You really have no siblings, or cousins, or extended family at all?” Growing up in the system didn’t mean he had no relatives; it simply meant there’d been no family of age or means to care for him.

  He uncrossed his leg and planted his foot on the floor. “None worth mentioning, no.” Such a foreign concept to her. She’d been surrounded by family her entire life, whether she wanted to be or not. “Ford’s the only family who matters.”

  There was a slight challenge in his tone, as if he were baiting her to ask another question—about him or about Ford, she couldn’t be sure. She chose to let the subject lie. After all, hadn’t she been the one to suggest the two of them could find friendly conversation away from family contentions?

  She set her thermos on the elk-head coaster she’d given Ted for Christmas two years ago. “What time were you hoping to leave today?”

  “Could you be ready to go by six thirty? I can pick you up by the mailboxes.”

  “Sure,” she said. “But do I get to ask where we’re going, or is this another one of your guessing games?”

  His lips twitched. “It’s a delivery. To the fire camp an hour and a half west of us. You’ll want to keep those jeans on. A pair of boots wouldn’t hurt either.”

  A fire camp. She’d seen a picture on one of the forestry websites but had never imagined visiting one in person. “Is it safe for us?”

  “Afraid things might get too heated?”

  She rolled her eyes at his implication. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “We’ll be surrounded by a hundred-plus firemen and their gear. You’ll be just fine.”

  She steered her gaze to the clock above the fireplace mantel. “You should try to catch the sunrise down at the dock since you’re up so early.”

  “Is that your not-so-subtle way of kicking a man to the curb? I still have twenty-seven minutes left.”

  She bit the insides of her cheeks and managed to avoid a smile while Levi rose from the chair and pointed to the wall of pictures lining the hallway outside the Great Room. “Mind if I take a look?”

  Thinking of his impromptu arrival at the lodge this morning, she found the question amusing. “You’re not really asking my permission.”

  “Maybe not, but it seemed an appropriate time to exercise my manners.” He winked and raked a hand through his morning hair. Rayne fought back the urge to smooth out a stalk-straight strand in the middle and instead stepped in front of him to point out the first frame on the left. Shelby history was a subject she excelled in.

  “That picture was taken in nineteen ten.” She motioned to the small boy with an ax over his shoulder. “That was my great-grandfather, Herbert Shelby. He was only thirteen years old when his parents built the first Shelby homestead on this property.”

  “The first homestead,” he repeated. “How many have there been?”

  “Five if you count the last remodel of the lodge in nineteen ninety-eight.” She tapped the glass with her fingernail. “The very first one burned to the ground in a forest fire. They lost their home, their barn, their cattle, and nearly the life of their only son. My great-great-grandmother Nettie kept journals of the entire account. Her stories of survival are heartbreaking but incredibly inspiring. She credited her strength to her faith in God and the help of settlers nearby. The small community pooled their resources together, food and trade goods, and even shared lodging for a time while they worked to rebuild.

  “It took them nearly two years to rebuild all they lost, but when they did, they added a single-room cabin to their lot, and then eventually, a small, two-story lodge with several r
ooms for boarding. Nettie said she never wanted to be in a position where she couldn’t help someone in need.” Rayne smiled as she looked at her favorite portrait on the wall. “My grandfather used to tell me it was his grandmother’s vision that laid the foundation for our community. When she died from cholera in the thirties, the town changed its name from Pine Falls to Shelby Falls in her honor. Nettie’s son, Herbert, went on to become the first mayor of Shelby Falls, and consequently, a generous businessman who poured his life into his town and his resources into Shelby Lodge. The same way my grandfather did many years later.” Rayne loved sharing the story of her ancestors. An excellent reminder of her own vision and purpose.

  “William Shelby,” Levi murmured under his breath as he settled beside her and took in the details of her grandfather’s portrait.

  “There’s no one I miss more.” The comment slipped through her lips without reservation. “Sometimes I feel guilty about that.”

  “Why so?”

  “My mother died when I was three—a skiing accident on Silver Mountain. And even though I wish I could have known her, wish I could have grown up with a mother, I had my aunt Nina and Delia and even my grandmother Betty before she got sick with Alzheimer’s. In a way, those women reduced the maternal void inside me.” She hugged her arms to her chest. “But there was nobody like my grandfather. No one to fill his role in my life after he passed. Our relationship was special. He was special.” And he’d made her feel special in a way no one had since.

  “He died when you were what? Eight?”

  She shot him a surprised glance. “Yes, that’s right. How did you—”

  “I’m good with math.” Levi tapped a finger to the dates etched in the gold plaque below the framed portrait. He worked his way down the picture wall, observing without commentary, until—“Tell me about this one.”

  His amusement turned her head.

  Fifty-plus people smiled at the camera at the backside of the lodge. “Oh, that was a family reunion.” And the last summer Rayne, Gia, and Celeste had been forced to stand side by side. The photo was taken the day after their second cousin had ratted them out at the Falls.

  Levi narrowed his eyes as if to zoom in. “Wow . . . How bad is your vision? Those glasses covered half your face.”