He felt warmer as he drove toward the inn. Damn but he wanted to touch her, kiss her, have her look at him with the same warmth he felt. He reminded himself they were going down different paths, and he had the feeling that if he kissed her, he couldn’t end it there.
Down boy. Maybe it was just too damn long since he’d been with a woman. After he got engaged, he had been deployed for a year before being wounded and ending up in the hospital on and off for two years. He’d been self-conscious about his leg, his missing fingers and the scars on his body.
Jenny Talbot would probably be as repulsed as his former fiancé had been when she saw the full extent of the damage. But the attraction was there, dancing between them like a flame building all too rapidly. He was sure she felt it, too. He shouldn’t start something he was unable to finish.
They arrived at the inn to find the parking lot almost full.
Neither of them made a move to get out of the car. “I’m sorry about your arm,” he said. “I didn’t think...”
“Neither did I,” she said. “It doesn’t always react that way. Every once in a while it just lets me know there’s a demon still poking around in my shoulder. It will be fine in the morning.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try to ride tomorrow.”
“Maybe I should never try to ride or throw a ball or lift something, but then I would miss a lot.”
He couldn’t really argue with that. He’d tried to do activities he shouldn’t either. He understood. And he sensed she didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he tried to change the subject to something neutral.
“Josh said they get a lot of townspeople and ranchers here on Friday and Saturday night. There’s usually some entertainment and dancing.”
He saw a momentary wistfulness in her face. If she had been out of the country in war zones for the past few years, it would have been a long time since she’d been on a dance floor. It had been a long time for Travis for other reasons.
She was silent for a moment, and then she asked, “Will you take me along on your trip to visit the equine therapy ranches?”
He was too startled to say anything.
“I’ll pay my share of expenses, of course,” she hurried on. “I won’t be a bother. I won’t butt in. I won’t complain. About anything. And I won’t publish anything without your and Josh’s approval. Or whoever else’s you want.”
“You can do all that?” he asked, not without a touch of humor. “Not be a bother or butt in or complain?”
“When I really try,” she said with that blinding smile of hers.
“I don’t know if the word try convinces me.”
She was silent for a few seconds. “Okay, I’ll delete try. I’ll do it.”
“Including no story at all?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Then you would be the first reporter ever. At least in my experience.”
“Maybe,” she said, “but that’s how badly I want to do the story. Not just a short piece, but in-depth. What kind of programs are available? Do they have lasting effects?” She hesitated. Then she added, “I knew a lot of guys overseas. I know what many of them experienced, and I’m aware of the problems many face when they come home.”
He didn’t question her sincerity. She’d also experienced the violence of war. But the simple fact was Jubal and Josh were in the early stages. If there wasn’t a need, or if they didn’t think they could develop an effective program, they would not begin one.
“When I read a story about the Camel Trail Inn,” Jenny continued, “and Susan mentioned the veterans here and the possibility of starting an equine therapy program, I knew I had to come.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I’d already done a lot of research on PTSD and therapy dogs for a possible article,” she said. “I wasn’t aware there are equine therapy programs designed specifically for veterans.” She paused, and he knew there was something she wasn’t saying. It was in the intensity with which she spoke. Had she loved someone with PTSD? That might account for her interest. He didn’t like the sudden burst of jealousy that exploded inside.
“It goes deeper than that, doesn’t it?” he guessed.
She stared at him for a moment and then sighed. “My interest is personal, as well as professional. When we were at Maude’s, I’m sure you noticed those seconds at Maude’s when I...went missing. I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD although I’m sure it’s not anything like it is for those who have been fighting for years.”
He realized the admission came reluctantly, but then a lot of veterans didn’t like to admit it. He hadn’t. It was admitting a vulnerability, and soldiers weren’t supposed to do that. His was pretty much under control, but he knew a flashback could occur at any time. “What happened?” he asked gently.
She hesitated, obviously reluctant, and then said slowly, “I saw a lot of violence and the results of violence. I could live with that. I was reporting on stories that needed to be told. It was important because there wasn’t much media around to record it.”
“And?” he pressed when she took a deep breath.
“In April, I was in Syria, traveling with a medical team headed for an overcrowded hospital during a cease-fire. Someone apparently forgot it was a cease-fire and bombed the hospital and the streets around it. There was a little girl—four...five—running down the street...screaming.
“I can’t forget her,” she continued. “Or the doctors. There’s something obscene about murdering doctors and nurses risking their lives to help others. But it’s the girl in the nightmares. I’ll never know what happened to her—or the doctors—because I was hit by shrapnel from one of the bombs. A friend got me to a medic, but that little girl still haunts me.”
She looked at him, her eyes now filled with tears that didn’t fall. “I don’t like it,” she said in a sudden outburst. “I don’t like not being in control. Or fearing sleep. Or jumping at a loud noise. I can relate to soldiers who have the same anger and reluctance to get help or share those feelings with others, particularly family. No one can really understand until they’ve been there and watched children being starved or killed, or being so afraid you start shaking. You especially don’t talk about fear. So you don’t talk about any of it, and the bad memories grow and shadow any good moments and sometimes take over completely. I want to know what can help.”
He could have said no to any other answer, but not this one. Jennifer Talbot was talented, confident and driven, but she had her demons, too. And the fact she had admitted so much to him, a virtual stranger, told him how much she wanted, and needed, some closure of her own.
“This is Jubal and Josh’s project, not mine. They would have to approve.” By not saying no immediately, he was asking for trouble.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
It was probably one of the worse mistakes he’d ever made, and he wanted reassurance. “You do agree not to write anything Jubal and Josh don’t approve?”
“Yes.”
He got out of the car then. She didn’t. He walked around and opened her door, and she stepped out and looked up at him. “Thanks for driving me home tonight and for...”
He was drowning in those eyes. There was still a dampness in them. She hadn’t been lying about the child. It hadn’t been a bid for sympathy. He touched her face with his good hand and guided his fingers over her features. He wanted to kiss her then. Badly. He wanted to blot out those bad memories. But she was vulnerable now and damn if he would take advantage of it.
He stepped back. Keep your cool. Hard to do when everything in him wanted to put his arms around her and kiss away those unshed tears.
Instead, he took her hand and led her to the door of the inn. Then he brushed an errant curl that fell over her forehead. “Good night, Jenny Talbot,” he said softly.
She hadn’t moved her gaze from him, her eyes searching his.
Damn, he didn’t want to hover, but he didn’t want to leave either. What he needed was another frigid shower. Maybe he would need a bunch of them.
She broke the spell. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for taking me tonight. Thank you for...well...everything.”
He nodded and turned away before he did or said something he would regret.
When he reached the car and looked back, she was gone.
CHAPTER TEN
JENNY FELT CONFLICTED as she walked into the inn. She was a step closer to a good story. Visiting several equine programs, as well as a psychologist involved in the programs, would be a gold mine for her.
But she was feeling so many other emotions. The story alone didn’t account for the quickening of her heart. She still felt the warmth of Travis’s hand on her. It was as if her body had suddenly sprung back to life.
Some inner voice told her a trip with Travis was a bad idea. But then again, a long car trip would expose warts. Maybe they would end up hating each other, and she would still have a story. He would probably be dominating. His way or the highway.
Or not.
He didn’t appear to be dominating, but he was an army officer. A Ranger. Accustomed to being in charge and obeyed...
Susan still sat behind the check-in desk.
“You’re working late,” Jenny observed, relieved that her musings had been interrupted.
“Just some paperwork,” Susan said. “We have a group here this weekend for a fiftieth wedding anniversary party. I’m making sure everything, including the banquet tomorrow night, goes well. The couple lives here, and, along with local friends, their children and great-grandchildren are coming back to celebrate. Some have already checked in and are in the dining room. Others will be here tomorrow.”
“That sounds like fun.” Fifty years? And still married?
“It will be. The Cutlers are good people. Lived here all their lives. Their children all left town after college, but they’ll be here for the party with their families. I want it to go well.” Susan looked at her more closely. “You have a glow about you. Covenant Falls must suit you.”
A glow? She didn’t glow, except maybe sometimes when she got a good story. It couldn’t be for any other reason. “I think I’ll be leaving Sunday for a few days. Then I’ll be back at the end of the week.”
“Just let me know,” Susan said. “I’ll have plenty of rooms next week. I should warn you, though, it’ll probably be noisy tomorrow night. The dining room is totally booked, but you can order from the menu for room service. Best trout around.”
“I’ll remember that. Is there any place to buy clothes in town?”
“The General Store has some. Not a bad selection for a small town. Need a ride over there tomorrow?”
“I’ll walk,” Jenny said. “After a huge dinner tonight, I need the exercise.”
She went to her room and took a long shower to wash Travis out of her mind. Especially that slow half smile that hid what he was really thinking. But then her mind wandered to the patient way he coached Nick.
Even if her father had a son, she couldn’t imagine him ever taking time to play ball with him.
Darn, but she’d liked Travis when he drove her to Covenant Falls. Now she really liked him. More than liked him. Admit it. His touch had left a painful craving deep inside, one she’d never felt before. Sure, she’d felt passion and need before, but never any that ran this deep and strong.
It’s just been two days.
Feeling suddenly uncertain, she called her sister. Lenore was usually up late. In the past few months, they had become friends. Her only friend stateside. She had been on the move too much to establish any long-lasting relationships.
“Hi,” she said when Lenore answered. “I just came back from dinner.”
“With anyone interesting?” Lenore asked.
“A married couple and their son. How’s my niece doing?”
“She misses you. She’s been looking up everything she can find about Covenant Falls.”
“Tell her I’ll bring her down when she has a school break. Lots of history here. She’ll love it. I’m not so sure you would. The only place to buy clothes is a general store.”
“Are you saying I’m shallow?” Lenore asked, a sharp edge to her tone.
A year ago, Jenny would have gotten defensive at that tone. Now she said mildly, “Nope, you just like to dress well as opposed to my jeans and fatigues.”
“With your figure, you would look good in a burlap bag if there are such things now.”
“I have no shape, Lenore,” Jenny corrected her.
“Better than too much of one,” Lenore said, and Jenny heard sadness in her voice. Had weight been one of the problems with Lenore’s marriage? Not that Lenore was overweight, but she had gained a few pounds since the time she was a high school cheerleader. Jenny thought she looked just right. But Lenore’s ex-husband liked perfect, or at least his idea of perfect. Jerk.
“If I keep eating as much as I have in the past two days, I’m going to swell up like a blimp,” Jenny said. “The food is good. Great, in fact.”
“Maybe I’ll come with Charlie after all,” Lenore said.
“I’d like that. We’ll plan on it.”
After they said goodbye, Jenny wondered if Lenore would like Covenant Falls for more than a day or two. She would love the waterfall. Who wouldn’t with its perpetual rainbow? Maybe a place like Covenant Falls was exactly what Lenore needed.
Jenny stayed up late to continue researching equine therapy programs. She guessed at which ones Travis planned to visit and picked out several that particularly interested her.
She thought about Jubal. She wanted to meet the ex-SEAL in any event. She knew his history. It was all over the newspapers when he returned from the dead. She wondered how he was adjusting to the peaceful life of a rancher.
She made a mental list of things to do tomorrow. She had to get Angus Monroe’s journal back to Andy, go shopping for clothes, have the riding lesson at Eve’s and take a trip to Jubal Pierce’s ranch.
If Travis convinced Jubal to let her go with him. If he really tried.
She glanced at the clock. It was eleven now, and she was tired. She hadn’t had much sleep last night, and tomorrow would be a busy day. The sharp pain in her shoulder had reduced to a throb, but the anti-inflammatory should help further. It was important that she appeared well tomorrow.
She had to get some sleep if she wanted to be sharp tomorrow, and she needed to be that. She might have a lot of persuading left to do.
She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and trying to banish warm hazel eyes from her mind.
* * *
JOSH AND JUBAL had both sworn to the benefits of swimming in the lake. Travis hadn’t been so sure.
Jubal was a former SEAL. Frigid water swimming was something he did, even liked, according to Josh. It was included in Ranger training, but not to the extent of what the SEALs did. To Travis, it had been the worst part of training. Why swim in icy water if you didn’t have to? Pain for pain’s sake did not appeal to him.
Still, a little pain right now might knock some sense into him.
He didn’t have a suit with him, but he cut the legs off a pair of jeans. He certainly didn’t want to be arrested for indecent exposure, even if he doubted anyone would see him at this time of night. Still...he was the guest of the mayor’s husband.
He selected the newest pair of jeans rather than the oldest. The oldest were more comfortable. He found a pair of scissors and hacked off the legs, wondering as he did so whether he’d lost his mind in even thinking about taking Jenny with him next week.
Seven days of temptation, and it would be temptation.
But the look in her eyes when she told him about the bombing made it impossible for him to say no. He hadn’t experienced t
he worst effects of PTSD, although there was the occasional nightmare. But he’d seen enough in rehab to know how it ravaged lives. He had no doubt that she had it.
It was eleven. The temperature was around seventy degrees, with a cooling breeze.
He walked to the lake and plunged in.
He froze at first, but then his body grew accustomed to it, and his strokes warmed his body. His bad foot didn’t matter. His missing fingers were inconsequential. He concentrated on each stroke, reached halfway and turned back.
When Travis got to shore, he toweled off, understanding now why Josh and Jubal recommended the swim. He had some measure of control back. Travis moved as quickly as he could back to the cabin as the breeze strengthened. He would call Josh and Jubal in the morning about Jenny’s request. He would express no opinion on it except, maybe, a lack of enthusiasm.
* * *
JENNY WOKE WITH a jerk. She panicked for a moment, uncertain as to where she was. Then, slowly, everything came into focus, and she remembered. Covenant Falls was a safe place, probably the most peaceful she’d ever visited. She looked at the clock. It was a few minutes past six.
She tested her arm. It was still a little sore, but far better than the night before. She pulled on her jeans and a clean T-shirt, ran a brush through her hair, brushed her teeth and grabbed her laptop before leaving the room.
As promised, hot coffee and pastries were available in the lobby. Jenny picked up a mug and filled it. Black coffee was her lifeblood, and she took an appreciative sip. Then she looked around. The room was empty, except for an older woman behind the desk.
She walked over to her. “Am I the first up?” she asked.
“Yes. That means you get first choice of the pastries. They were baked last night. I recommend the cinnamon rolls,” the woman said. “I’m Mary Reid, assistant manager.”
“I’m happy to see that Susan isn’t here twenty-four hours.”
The Soldier's Homecoming Page 11
