The Soldier's Homecoming

by Patricia Potter

  She waited anxiously for his answer. Was the trip still viable? There had been vibes between them from the moment they met, but tonight it had changed into something more...intimate.

  “Good night,” he said in an unsteady voice.

  She didn’t wait. She nodded, not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind about the trip. She hoped no one was in the inn’s lobby because she knew her face might give away what just happened. She’d long ago discounted tales of romantic fireworks. Never happened to her. Until now.

  She tried to compose herself as she crossed the lobby. Susan stepped out of the dining room, which appeared packed. “Hi,” she said. “Have a good day?”

  Still shaken, she nodded. “I rode my first grown-up horse, and I’ll be leaving in the morning. I should be back next Saturday or Sunday. I’ll let you know when.”

  “I should have plenty of rooms then. In any event, I’ll have one for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I see you found some boots.”

  Jenny needed to get back to her room. She was still trembling inside, but she fought to keep her tone normal. “You were right about the General Store. It did have a good selection.”

  Susan nodded. “If that’s your first ride, you might want to soak in a hot bath.”

  “So people keep telling me. I’m beginning to understand why. I’m already stiff. Do you ride?”

  “Since I was a kid. Most of us around here do.”

  “You’re from Covenant Falls?”

  “Born and raised. That’s why I want to make the inn a success. Make it a destination. That was a good idea about concentrating advertising on veterans.”

  “Good,” Jenny said, trying desperately to keep her voice even. Calm. “Glad I can help. I would like to do a story on the inn when I get back. I have some contacts with travel magazines.”

  “That would be great.”

  She turned toward the dining room. “It sounds like the party is going well.”

  “Come on in,” Susan said. She didn’t wait for a reply, but went to the double doors and opened one. Curious, Jenny followed.

  A band was playing “Tennessee Waltz,” and an elderly couple was dancing, dipping and whirling. Both had white hair, but their age didn’t dim the broad smiles on their faces. A boy and girl of three or four years were doing their version of the waltz, too, while others applauded.

  More couples started dancing, and Jenny backed away. Her heart lightened at watching such a celebration and recognizing the love in the room. There was also an ache for never having known this kind of family...or joy.

  She was an observer. Had been one all her life. Now she wondered whether if, by being an observer, she had missed being a participant in living. “Thank you,” she said to Susan.

  “Have a good night,” Susan said as she closed the door.

  Back in her room, she took an anti-inflammatory and sank into the tub. Only then did she allow herself to think of the kiss, of its impact. She’d been kissed many times before, but she couldn’t remember one that affected her in so many ways. It had the potent combination of passion and gentleness. Travis Hammond had many qualities she admired: intelligence, humor, a rapport with people ranging from little boys to navy SEALs. That a group of warriors entrusted him with a project obviously important to them said even more.

  But he was also private. He answered questions, but she always had the feeling that he was leaving the most important facts out. He’d said very little about his family, where he was from, his feelings about the military. Had he ever been married, or had there been other relationships? She wanted to know everything about him.

  Could she really claim it was just journalistic curiosity?

  One thing she did know: she didn’t need complications now. She wanted to get back to Syria. Not wanted. Had to.

  The child from her nightmares haunted her. She’d previously built an emotional shield between her and the horrors she’d seen during her years as a war correspondent, but the child had broken through it and wouldn’t go away. Maybe that was why she had the nightmares. She needed to tell the child’s story. Not just what she saw, but what happened after.

  She’d tried to find out. She’d contacted Rick who was now in Iraq, but he didn’t know more than her. He’d promised, though, to try to find out.

  The water had cooled, and she ran the hot water again, until she was nearly boiled. Some of the aches and soreness from riding began to fade.

  She had a tablet full of books she wanted to read, but tonight she just wanted to think about the day. About the people she’d met. Jubal. Danny. Josh. Andy. Eve. They’d all faced physical and emotional challenges, and now their main focus was helping others with theirs.

  She wrote the first page of a story in her head, and then she leaned back in the tub and considered her future.

  Afterwards, she packed and began writing her impressions of the people she’d met in Covenant Falls. It was past midnight when she crawled into bed. Her body was tired, but her mind was too busy to sleep. She turned on the television news, but the screen blurred. Travis’s face kept appearing, instead. The thin scar that gave him a crooked smile added interest to a face that might otherwise be too handsome. His wry humor attracted her, but she kept going back to his relationships with Nick and Danny. Eve had told her that a job for Danny was the one condition Travis had made to make his first visit.

  Rangers were a clannish group. They looked after each other, but Danny hadn’t been a Ranger. He hadn’t been anything to anybody, apparently, except to a major with no previous connection to him.

  That placed Travis very high in her estimation.

  She could care less about his wounds. He’d learned how to manipulate his right hand to do what needed to be done with three fingers. Although he’d obviously had surgery on his leg and it must give him pain, he didn’t let it stop him.

  The simple fact was she liked him. She liked him more every time she was with him. He was gentle, despite being a warrior. She thought of the way he’d lifted the saddle for her. Challenged her on the day he’d picked her up. Played baseball with Eve’s son. Allowed her to make her case with Jubal. He was a rare man.

  That frightened her as few other things had. She didn’t want ties. She wanted the freedom to go where stories took her. And right now the story was still in Syria.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE WATER WAS even colder than Travis remembered. He was grateful. It took his mind off Jenny as he swam well into the lake before turning around, climbing up on the dock and wrapping a large, thick towel around his waist. He walked to the cabin as fast as his weak leg allowed.

  After a hot shower, he reviewed the materials he and Jubal had accumulated. Some of it was on his laptop but there were also books, brochures, notes and other written material Jubal had gathered after talking to the equine therapy providers on the schedule.

  They had all been helpful. They were reluctantly turning away vets because their programs were full. The fact he represented a SEAL, a Ranger staff sergeant, an army nurse and a Vietnam vet made it an easy sale.

  He’d prepared a list of questions for the providers and Dr. Payne. He’d asked each member of the Covenant Falls group for a couple of questions and added more of his own. Several had to do with the length of the program and the number of participants at any one time. Other questions involved financial aspects and staffing. What kind of qualifications should they look for? Would a physical therapist be necessary? A mental health professional?

  It was two in the morning before he finished. Lack of sleep was finally getting to him. He knew he would wake at dawn, regardless of when he went to bed, no alarm clock needed.

  He tried not to think of the next day, of spending so many hours in a small space with a woman who attracted him so strongly. That kiss had been a terrible mistake. He didn’t know what in th
e hell he’d been thinking.

  If it had just been her appearance, he could handle it. She was certainly attractive, but it was her interest in everyone and everything that drew him to her. She was challenging, and he was at a point in his life where he needed that.

  In the past two years, he’d had physical challenges, but no men to lead, no battle plans to draw, no logistics problems to solve, no angry exchanges with counterparts in Afghanistan and Syria and Iraq.

  She’d brought that part of him alive again. It was a gift, and he should accept it during the next few days before she left for new adventures.

  And she would leave. He saw the restlessness in her. She didn’t seem to have any real ties anywhere and was happy that way. He, on the other hand, was tired. Years of being deployed over what seemed half the world had dulled his adventurist side.

  Dammit! He didn’t know what the hell he wanted in the future. He wasn’t excited about any of the post-military options he was exploring right now.

  He closed his eyes. The swim had exhausted his body, and reviewing the stack of materials sated his mind. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

  * * *

  JENNY WAS AT the door of the inn at ten minutes to eight. She’d paid her bill and gulped down two cups of coffee and two cinnamon rolls. There seemed to be more than enough for the patrons, so she took two more for Travis.

  Travis drove up about three minutes to eight. Before he got out, she threw her belongings into the back seat and stepped into the front passenger seat.

  “Good morning,” she said as she fastened her seat belt.

  “You travel lighter than any woman I’ve ever known.”

  “How many have you known?”

  “Enough to know you’re an oddity.” He started the car.

  “Did you have breakfast?” Jenny asked.

  “Are you hungry already?”

  “Nope, but I brought you two of the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted.”

  He held out a hand to take one.

  “You’re welcome,” she said as she put a napkin-wrapped roll in his hand.

  “Thank you,” he replied a little too politely.

  He took a bite and then sighed happily. “How did I not hear about these?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m pretty great at ferreting out good food. You’re lucky to have me along.”

  He took his gaze from the road and gave her that slow smile that was beginning to melt something inside her. “We’ll see about that,” he said.

  “Grumpy this morning, are we?”

  “The cinnamon rolls are easing the condition.”

  “Will I have to provide them every morning?”

  “Might work,” he replied as he drove out of Covenant Falls. “There’s a map in the glove compartment if you want to navigate.”

  “You don’t have a GPS?” She felt a growing happiness. She thoroughly enjoyed fencing with him. He stimulated her in a way nothing had since her return to the United States.

  “The rental company didn’t have an available car with one. Besides, I don’t like an electronic device telling me where to go and scolding me when I decide to deviate.”

  She stared at him. She hadn’t expected that. He appeared to be so organized. But now he sounded...like her. She’d thought every mile would have been mapped out.

  “Can we take some back roads?” she asked.

  “Why not? We have the time since I’m leaving a day sooner than I expected.”

  “You were trying to avoid me,” she accused.

  “Thought about it,” he admitted with disarming honesty. “It obviously didn’t work.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Jubal thought you might be of some help.”

  “Only Jubal?”

  He just smiled and changed the subject. “We’ll take Interstate 25 until we reach New Mexico, but after that, you can guide.”

  “I can pick the route?”

  “Unless it takes us to Alaska.”

  “I think I can avoid that,” she said, charmed by his banter. She had seen some of it on the drive from the airport to Covenant Falls, but since then he’d been mostly polite and businesslike.

  “As long as we’re in Fort Hood by 11:00 a.m. on Tuesday,” he responded.

  She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a map. “Before or after we hit the state line,” she said, spreading it out, “maybe we can find a welcome center with more maps and information. I like out-of-the-way places and hole-in-the-wall local eateries.”

  She wondered if she wasn’t being a bit presumptuous, but he simply nodded. She had thought he might be stiff at first, but he wasn’t. He was treating her like a partner. Maybe not welcomed with open arms, but neither was there the earlier reluctance.

  “When you’re finished with the map, there’s a binder and several books in the back seat. The binder includes information on each of the programs we’ll visit, along with stuff about other equine therapy programs in the country. There’s also a few books on equine therapy and a list of questions I have for Dr. Payne. You might want to add some questions of your own after reading everything.”

  She placed the map on the divider and twisted her body around as much as possible while held captive by the seat belt. She noticed it was a very fat binder. Three books were positioned next to it.

  “No laptop?” she observed.

  “I have one but I don’t like to use it when talking to people. It puts a wall between us. You can’t look them in the eyes. I prefer notes.”

  That was interesting. She worked in the same way. She wondered why he hadn’t already planned every mile and stop on the trip. If the thickness of the binder was any indication of his preciseness, would he not have spent time on routing the trip?

  Maybe he had. Maybe he’d planned the route down to the last mile. Then the question was why he’d tasked her with it. Because he wanted to keep her too busy for conversation? Or was it some kind of test? If it were the latter, he might be in for a few surprises.

  She looked at the map and selected several sites that interested her. The first was Raton Pass, which was located just over the New Mexico border. She couldn’t remember hearing anything about it, just as she hadn’t about Covenant Falls, but the name fascinated her. She now had a renewed interest in small towns.

  She guessed they would get there by about eleven. She took out her cell phone and looked it up. As she read the information, she could barely keep a smile to herself.

  “Have you ever heard of Raton Pass?” she asked.

  He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “No.”

  “Neither have I. It’s just over the border. Might be a good place to stop for lunch.”

  “It will be a little early for lunch,” he observed.

  “I’ll be hungry.”

  “Are you always hungry?”

  “It would seem so,” she said. “But you do pretty well yourself. And anyway, you appointed me cruise director. It’s a duty I take seriously.”

  “Is there something in Raton Pass I should know about?” he asked.

  “It’s a mountain pass that was part of the Santa Fe Trail,” she said, grateful her cell had service. “Pioneers journeying west, raids by Native Americans, Civil War skullduggery. It was laid out in 1821 and apparently played an important role in Western history. The town has historic buildings, including a theater and hotel. Also distinguishing the town, apparently, is a hat cemetery.”

  Travis glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “A hat cemetery?”

  “I thought that might get your attention. It’s right there on the website.” She couldn’t stop a giggle. She never giggled, but his expression just plain earned one. “In my travels,” she continued, “I thought I had heard or seen most everything. I wrote a story on a hat museum in
Europe, but a cemetery? The town sounds as interesting as Covenant Falls.”

  She paused for a minute. Then she mused aloud, “Maybe I can do a series on the country’s most fascinating small towns. There’s Covenant Falls and now Raton Pass. It has everything. History, location, oddities.”

  “Including the hat cemetery,” Travis said drily. “Absolutely a must stop.”

  “You are not sharing my enthusiasm,” she retorted, “and thirst for knowledge.”

  He chuckled. It was a nice sound, one she wished she heard more often. “I hope,” he replied, “you are not expecting me to stop at every small town along the way to discover their eccentricities.”

  “Maybe not every one,” she agreed.

  “That’s comforting.”

  He was in a good mood. Jenny decided to take advantage of it. “You told me your father was a farmer. Did you live in a small town?”

  “Pretty small.”

  “In the Midwest?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it have any eccentricities?”

  “Nope, not a single one.”

  “And no family at all back there?”

  “No.”

  She noticed his lips tightening. She told herself to stop, but that reporter part of her didn’t want to quit. It was, she knew, a very obnoxious part of her.

  But still she couldn’t stop herself from asking one last question. “And no one else?”

  “Just the army,” he replied. The tone did not invite further intrusion.

  Jenny let some time pass while she watched the scenery. They were driving through grasslands now, and she saw an occasional ranch. She checked out the towns ahead of them on her phone: Trinidad and Walsenburg. The latter was the size of Covenant Falls and apparently had some infamy. Robert Ford, the assassin of Jesse James, operated a saloon and gambling house there.

  She didn’t want to press her luck with Travis, though. She didn’t know whether he shared her fascination with history. Rather than mentioning it, she added its name to her phone app as deserving of a visit sometime in the future. Maybe even in a possible series about small towns.