A Soldier's Journey

by Patricia Potter

  “There’s also a small grocery, a general store and a hardware store. The pharmacy around the corner has office supplies, books and small tech supplies.”

  She parked in a space with a reserved sign in front of the city hall. “One of the few benefits of being mayor,” Eve said. “Maude’s is across the street,” she added.

  Andy felt comfortable the moment she stepped inside the diner. It looked much like the one back home where all the kids went after school.

  The diner was busy, but a middle-aged woman who looked as if she was fond of her own food met them. “I’m Maude. You must be Josh’s new veteran,” she said, then looked down at the dog. “Looks like a fine service dog,” she added with a wink. She didn’t wait for an answer but led them to the back booth.

  After they were seated, Andy asked what was good.

  “Josh would say steaks, but I like patty melts.”

  “Patty melts?”

  “Hamburger with onion and melted cheese on rye bread. They are sinful, and I try to limit myself to one a week. I don’t always succeed, but I do try.”

  “You sold me,” Andy said, and they ordered.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about Maude already knowing who she was. She’d always been a private person except for the close-knit surgical teams with which she’d served...

  The memories came flooding back. Her hand crushed the napkin in her lap. Joseph moved closer to her, put his head on her thigh.

  She looked up and saw Eve’s concerned gaze. “My first husband died six years ago,” she said in a low voice that wouldn’t carry beyond the booth. “We were childhood sweethearts. I loved him very much. He was a coach, ran in marathons, and I thought he would live forever. He died one afternoon while on the field with the football team he coached. He was running with them when he suddenly dropped to the ground. A heart defect no one had detected. If it hadn’t been for Nick, my son... I don’t know what I would have done.”

  Andy suddenly felt betrayed by Dr. Payne. “You know...what happened to me?”

  Eve shook her head. “I only know that pain in your eyes. I saw it in my mirror for a long time. If there’s ever anything I can do...”

  “There is,” Andy said. “I need something to do. I don’t have much money, but Dr. Payne said it was possible to help in the community. I’ve always paid my own way.”

  “What did you do in the army?” Eve asked.

  “You don’t know?”

  “No. Dr. Payne says very little about his recommendations to my husband. Josh probably says even less to me. He figures if you want anyone to know your business, you’ll tell them. He’s a sphinx where other vets are concerned.”

  “I think I’ll like him.”

  “You will. He would tear off his arm to help someone, particularly a vet.”

  “I’ve known someone like that.” Andy bit her lip as the image of Jared popped up again.

  Eve looked at her. “They are rare,” she said. “Are you interested in history?”

  An odd question and quick change of subject. But she nodded.

  “Do you like writing?”

  “I’ve kept a journal, that’s all.”

  Eve’s eyes suddenly lit. “We’re trying to grow the town, create more jobs. We think tourism is the first step. My husband and Nate are finishing rehabbing—rebuilding, really—a very nice inn, but we’re a fair distance from populated areas. We need attractions, and I think that attraction could be our history.”

  “Why?”

  “The town was founded by a Scot who came here in the 1840s, saw the lake and established a trading post. There were Native raids, but he saved the life of a Ute chief and they rewarded him with protection and the chief’s sister as a wife. He basically built the town and became instrumental in the campaign for statehood. Then there’s our falls, where much of this happened.”

  “I’m not a writer,” Andy said. “And shouldn’t someone from the community write about the town?”

  “We don’t need a book,” Eve explained. “Just a short, coherent narrative we can use in a brochure and advertising program.”

  “Wouldn’t someone who lives here be more qualified...?”

  Eve sighed. “There’s a few rivalries around here. And different versions of what happened and where we should go in the future. I think an outsider will be objective and produce a narrative appealing to people outside the community. I want fresh, unbiased eyes.” She paused. “We’ve been thinking about hiring someone, but why don’t you take a stab at it? We don’t need Gone with the Wind.”

  “Where would I begin?” Andy asked, a kernel of interest building inside. She had always liked history, even thought about being a history teacher, but there had been no scholarships for that.

  “Probably the best place is the small museum we’ve started in the community center. There’s old newspapers and photos and some mining equipment. You can start there, and then contact Al Monroe. He’s a descendant of the founder of Covenant Falls, Angus Monroe. There’s rumors that Angus kept journals. Al might have them if, indeed, they do exist.”

  Eve’s proposal was the last thing Andy had expected. The more Eve talked, the more intrigued she became. It was far more interesting than the pounding nails or filing papers that she’d expected. And she’d always liked research.

  Plus, it would absorb her. She needed something like that. “I’ll try it,” she finally said. “I can’t promise anything remotely coherent.”

  Eve grinned. “I’ll try to tone down my expectations.”

  Their lunch arrived then, and Andy took a bite. “Mmm,” she said. “I like this.”

  “Good,” Eve said, and they both concentrated on the sandwiches and fries. Andy couldn’t remember when anything had tasted so good. After they finished, Eve looked at her watch. “I have a meeting in twenty minutes. I’ll drop you over at the community center where the museum is.”

  “Should we drop Joseph off at the cabin first?” Andy asked.

  “I think Joseph can go almost any place you want to take him in Covenant Falls. Amos, my husband’s dog, has pretty well shattered people’s opinions as to where a dog should or should not go. He’s the town celebrity.”

  “Why?” Andy asked.

  “He saved my son’s life twice,” she said, “but that’s a long story and takes time in the telling. Why don’t you come over for supper tomorrow night? Clint and my husband both want to meet you. It will be really relaxed. You can leave any time you want, no explanations needed. Joseph is invited, as well.”

  Andy wasn’t sure she was ready for a social event yet.

  “I don’t want to pressure you,” Eve said, obviously sensing her hesitation. “So say no if you’re not ready. God knows my husband and I both understand. He was the loner of all time when he first moved into the cabin.”

  “And now?” Andy asked.

  “He still has a tendency to run off to the woods on occasion, but he’s adapting,” she said with a grin. “Not easy in my household.”

  Andy surrendered. It was impossible to say no to Eve Manning. “Okay,” she said. What was that saying? In for a penny, in for a pound.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT WAS MIDAFTERNOON when Eve drove into a parking area in back of the two-story brick building she’d pointed out earlier. A sign outside identified it as the Covenant Falls Community Center.

  Andy was quickly having second thoughts. Why had she agreed to Eve’s suggestion of writing a history of the town? But she had agreed to try, and she did need a job, a goal, a diversion. She needed to start living again, even if it was so damn hard.

  Andy reluctantly followed Eve up the step, through the unlocked door and into a vestibule. A gray-haired, wiry man rose from a desk in a corner. She noted a Western novel on his desk.

  “This i
s Bill Evans,” Eve said. “He manages the center. Bill, this is Andy Stuart. She moved into the cabin today. And this is Joseph.”

  At the sound of his name, Joseph barked and wagged his tail.

  Mr. Evans leaned down and scratched the dog’s ears. “He’s a handsome fellow.” Joseph wriggled with pleasure at the attention.

  Then the man straightened and held out his hand and she took it. “Real pleased to meet you,” he said. It was a firm shake, and she warmed to his friendly grin.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Bill, I wondered if you could show Andy around the center and particularly the museum,” Eve said. She turned to Andy. “It’s on our wish list to do more with it, but money is tight. I’m leaving you in good hands. I have a meeting. It seems I always have a meeting. But Bill will take good care of you. He can drive you and Joseph back to the cabin.”

  “Not necessary,” Andy said. “Joseph and I can make it alone. We walked up the mountain earlier.”

  “Okay, but if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me,” Eve said, “and we’ll see you tomorrow night.” And then she was gone.

  “Is she always so...busy?” she asked.

  Bill Evans grinned. With his thin hair and neatly trimmed mustache, he looked to be in his late sixties. “Yes, and as a fellow vet, I feel it necessary to warn you about our mayor. She’s really good at keeping others in the same state.”

  “She suggested that I try to write a short history of Covenant Falls for a brochure.”

  “That’s what she suggested, huh?” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Andy wasn’t sure she liked the way he said it. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, no problem at all,” he said. “Sounds like a good idea. You a writer?”

  “Nope. A nurse by training,” she admitted.

  “Ah, one of the angels. I served in Vietnam and that’s the way we thought about the nurses. And the doctors. They saved my life, for sure.”

  She didn’t reply. She was still pondering his previous—enigmatic—words.

  He didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll show you around.” He walked to the left and stood in an open door while she looked inside. “This is our library and computer center. Nate Rowland, another one of our vets, built the shelves for the books.”

  Andy peered inside. Large windows were framed by cheerful drapes. Books filled shelves that lined one wall of the room. Several worn but comfortable-looking chairs were scattered in front of them. Two preschoolers were sprawled on throw rugs in front of the shelves. Several older children were browsing through books on higher shelves.

  Two teenagers and an elderly woman sat in front of three of the ten computers lined up on a long table. Not wanting to disturb them, she joined Bill Evans, who was waiting in the hall.

  “Nice,” she said.

  “The center is all Eve’s doing. This building used to be a restaurant, and it stood here empty for nearly twenty years until Eve decided we needed a community center. She badgered the city council into making repairs with volunteer help.”

  He led the way across the hall to a door and opened it. “This is our meeting room. We vets meet here every Monday night. You’re invited, of course.”

  “Nate Rowland mentioned it,” Andy replied.

  “You’ve met Nate? He’s a good guy. He’s the one who really started the Monday-night get-togethers. It’s helped a bunch of us, just talking about things we can’t talk to anyone else about. I hope you come. You’ll like everyone, and we need new blood. You play poker, by any chance?”

  “I’ve been known to,” she replied modestly.

  He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then grinned. He rambled on, “We’re not the only ones who meet here. We just claim Monday night.”

  Andy admired the room. Like the other one, it had an eccentric charm. Three elderly overstuffed sofas of varying colors and design were scattered throughout the room. An equally aged television sat in a corner. A battered bar ran along the back of the room with mismatched bar chairs. Card tables and folding chairs lined one of the walls.

  “I like it,” she said. “It looks...comfortable.”

  “Ah, a diplomat,” he said. “It’s all donated except for the folding chairs.”

  “In an odd way, everything fits,” she said. Then she remembered why she was there. “And the museum, Mr. Evans?” she prompted.

  “It’s Bill. I hope I can call you Andy.”

  “I would like that,” she said.

  “I should warn you about the museum. We’re just beginning to put it together. We’ve been spending the past several months asking for contributions. Not money, but letters, photos, old newspapers, vintage clothing. Right now it’s just scattered pieces of our history. I’ve been going through it, but I’m no curator. In fact, I’m just a volunteer who kinda hangs around here.”

  “Are you doing the sorting?” Andy asked. She was getting a suspicious feeling about this museum.

  “When I have time. The library and computers came first.”

  “Okay,” she said, trying to determine his role. “You take care of the library and computers, the meeting room and now the...museum, and you’re a volunteer?”

  Evans looked embarrassed. “I like keeping active. I sold the general store to my nephew last year. It was a huge mistake. I was used to being busy.” He shrugged. “Retirement isn’t all it’s made out to be. Within a month, I was driving my wife and myself crazy. So this is not exactly slave labor for me,” he said with a grin. “It’s just that one thing kinda leads to another, and before you know it you’re hooked like a fish. Eve does have a way about her. Watch yourself.” He led the way up a flight of stairs to a door at the top.

  “I’m only going to be here for a short time,” she said.

  “I’ve heard that from your predecessors at the cabin. They’re still here.”

  Despite herself, Andy was curious. And also wary. “What did they get hooked on?” she asked carefully.

  “Well...quite a few things, actually.”

  Andy sighed. “Eve just wants a short brochure. Shouldn’t take long.”

  “Right,” he said, but there was doubt in his voice as he unlocked the door and stood aside as she entered.

  Newspaper-size bound volumes sat in a pile on a table. Other tables held scrapbooks and photo albums. Unopened boxes filled another table, with even more boxes tucked underneath. She glanced through several of them: menus from the ’20s, a bill promoting a traveling circus in 1888 and several wanted posters from around the same time. Another box was filled with school pictures that looked as if they went back as far as the late nineteenth century. A stack of high school yearbooks was in the corner.

  Bill Evans looked embarrassed. “We...I...really haven’t had time to look at all of it.” He brightened. “We also have a fool’s-gold nugget, along with a real one and some mining equipment. A few diaries.”

  “Any of it cataloged?”

  “Afraid not.”

  She looked around helplessly. This wasn’t a museum. It was a disaster. An earnest disaster, maybe, but a disaster nonetheless. It would take months to find anything and more months to get the museum in shape.

  “You can spend as much time as you need here,” he said.

  “Maybe I could talk to...a descendant of the founder of the town...Mr. Monroe?”

  “You could do that,” he allowed.

  She eyed him. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “He’s a bit...difficult.”

  “Eve didn’t mention that,” Andy said. She tried a different possibility. “Is there a newspaper in town?”

  “Yep. There’s only one now, of course, but there’s been a number throughout the years. We have bound copies of some of the editions.”

  “What about talk
ing to the editor?”

  “Well, the newspaper’s been around, but the editor hasn’t. He’s only been here two years. Inherited it, and doesn’t give a damn about it or the town. He would sell it in a New York second if he could find a buyer. It’s not a very good paper.”

  That wasn’t encouraging. Andy liked newspapers. In fact, she’d been addicted to them. She’d had a really strong curiosity about almost everything, although it had been dormant for the past months. She hadn’t wanted to read or hear about the Middle East or any kind of violence. It came to her too often at night.

  Then she remembered what Eve had said. A Scot and a Ute princess. Gold. She’d been intrigued by the story. It was obvious now, though, that writing it would probably be more difficult than the mayor implied. Now she understood what Bill meant by a hook...

  It didn’t make any difference, though. Now that she had committed to at least taking a stab at putting something together for a brochure, she wanted to get started. It was time to stop hiding from the rest of the world. And to do that, she had to join it.

  Prying into the town’s history seemed a safe way of doing it. Having no goal was like looking into an abyss. She owed Jared more than that. She owed the others more than that.

  She had to live for them.

  But it was so damned hard.

  * * *

  EVE GREETED HER husband with a huge hug. “I’ve missed you,” she said. Josh Manning bent his head to her upraised face, and their lips met. She wondered if the heat would ever cool between them, prayed that it wouldn’t.

  “Hey, Josh.” Nick bounded out of his room, Amos beside him and the other dogs following him. “Amos was so excited to hear your Jeep.”

  “Hi, champ, thanks for taking care of him,” Josh replied as Amos pressed between them and leaned against Josh’s legs, making little crying noises.

  Josh knelt down and rubbed his fur. “Sorry, guy, but you were better off here for three days.”

  “How did it go?” Eve asked.

  He grinned. “I have acceptances from eight in the travel industry, including two newspapers, a business magazine, the tourism bureau, several travel agencies and a freelance writer who specializes in writing about Colorado for major travel publications. I have a couple more maybes.”