“Levi, this is Kyle Houseman.” Callie gestured between them.
Lean but sinewy, Levi offered his hand. He was an inch or two taller than Kyle and, Kyle guessed, two or three years younger. He seemed brooding, watchful and a bit standoffish, even while wearing Callie’s bathrobe, which should’ve made him look ridiculous. Instead, the pink terry cloth created a stark contrast between her size and his, her optimism and innocence and the cynicism of a jaded warrior. It also reminded Kyle of the wolf donning Grandma’s mobcap in Little Red Riding Hood.
Would he have to play the part of the woodcutter?
“Nice robe,” he said.
Levi lowered his hand when Kyle didn’t accept it, but he didn’t scramble to explain or apologize, as most guys who were so out of place probably would. “Would you rather I went without it?”
Kyle wasn’t pleased with Mr. McCloud’s response. But he was the one who’d set the tone. What had evolved between him and Callie put Kyle in a difficult situation. Their relationship was so complicated that he often lay awake at night, trying to figure out what should happen now that they’d slept together. “I’m wondering where your clothes are.”
Levi jerked his head in Callie’s direction. “Ask your friend.”
“They were torn and bloody!” Obviously rattled by what had already been said, Callie could hardly find her voice. “I’m washing them.”
Kyle grinned as if he’d been joking the whole time. “Right. Of course. Then it’s a good thing that robe fits as well as it does.”
A muscle flexed in Levi’s cheek. “I’m not after your woman, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
His blatant honesty took Kyle off guard. “She’s not my woman. But I care about her. I want to be clear on that.” He also wanted to put McCloud on notice that she wasn’t as defenseless as it might seem, even though she was keeping Rifle outside in deference to what her guest had been through.
“All I want is my bike.” At that point, Levi turned to Callie. “Did you find it?”
When she shot him a dirty look, Kyle knew she wasn’t pleased with how he’d handled the situation.
“No. Sorry to say I didn’t,” she told Levi. “We’ll have to call the police, see if they impounded it.”
“But you brought my backpack.”
She stepped out of the way so he could get to the tattered canvas pack Kyle had set inside the front door. “Yes. It was at the house closest to where you said you were attacked. But it’s filthy. I think the dogs took out their residual anger on what you left behind.”
While bending to pick up his belongings, McCloud glanced at them from beneath the hank of blond hair hanging in his eyes and Kyle was again struck by the fact that this was not your typical vagrant. He was too handsome, too young—and he seemed very capable.
Kyle could only hope he wasn’t capable of violence.
“I thought it had to be a neighbor’s dogs,” Levi said. “I couldn’t have walked too far from where it happened.”
“Those dogs don’t belong to my neighbor, exactly,” Callie said. “They belong to whoever is temporarily staying in that house. Godfrey told me two guys are renting it. He said they have pit bulls.”
“That explains a lot—about size and strength.”
“You certainly weren’t dealing with poodles,” she said.
The way she seemed to be pandering to him bothered Kyle.
“Did you see them?” Levi asked her.
“I didn’t. But I discovered some bloody paw prints. That’s what tipped me off.”
There was blood on the bag, too. Kyle had ascertained that much when he carried it in. “Did you injure either of the dogs?” he asked.
Levi shrugged. “I tried. It was me or them.” He unzipped his pack and pulled out a pair of jeans and a
T-shirt. “Good news, Mr. Houseman.” He held them up. “I can get out of your girlfriend’s robe.”
“I’m not his girlfriend.” Callie’s words reiterated what Kyle had already said, but Levi ignored them. When he turned, presumably to go change, she stopped him. “Why put those clothes on over your stitches? You’ll just get ointment on them, and that stuff won’t come out easily. You need to eat and go back to bed. You can dress later.”
He gave her a pointed look. “Thank you, but I’ll decide what I need to do,” he said, and disappeared into the bedroom.
As soon as he was gone, Kyle guessed he was going to get harangued by Callie, so he went on the offensive. “That was rude what he just said to you.”
Grabbing his arm, she dragged him into the kitchen. “What he said? You started it!” she whispered. “You were all but banging on your chest.”
Kyle lowered his voice. “Maybe I could’ve been friendlier. But you’re being friendly enough for both of us. That man has issues, Callie.”
“Most vagrants do!” she responded. “That’s why they don’t have homes, why they aren’t with their families!”
“Exactly! So don’t tell me you’re still going to let him stay!”
She released his arm. “What else can I do?”
“Have him go somewhere different...”
“Like?”
He considered his own circumstances. “I’ve got my sister and her kids at my place.”
“I doubt he’d be willing to go home with you, anyway. It’s not as if you were nice to him!”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he grumbled.
When she tilted up her chin, he knew he’d said the wrong thing. “He hasn’t asked for anything—except some bandages to stop the bleeding. The rest has been my doing.”
Kyle felt bad for not having more sympathy. He should’ve at least shaken hands. But, homeless or not, McCloud wasn’t the type of man who inspired pity. He was too remote, too mysterious and probably too angry. “He’ll be fine.”
“He has nowhere to go until he gets his motorcycle fixed.”
“So I’ll pay for a room at Little Mary’s B and B for a few days. That’ll solve it.”
She got the buttermilk from the fridge. “He won’t take your money.”
“How do you know?”
“Try offering and see for yourself.”
He didn’t answer because he believed her.
“Anyway, there’s no need to go that far,” she said. “We can manage right here.”
Kyle came up behind her. “He looks strong, despite his injuries, Callie. Doesn’t that intimidate you?”
“I have to go sometime, Kyle.”
Had he heard her correctly? She’d never said anything like that before. “That’s a weird comment. How can you be so cavalier?” He slouched into a chair. “Do you realize how much damage a man like that could do to a woman like you if he decides to cause trouble?”
“A woman like me?”
“Someone who weighs barely one hundred pounds?”
“He’s already had several chances to hurt me. He could’ve broken in last night instead of knocking on the door. He could’ve attacked me after