A Soldier's Journey

by Patricia Potter

  “You’ve drove all this way for a few minutes?”

  “And brownies. Don’t forget the brownies. Mrs. Byars saw me drive in, and she came flying over. Well, maybe not flying, but she was moving fast. She had the strangest idea that I might be coming to see you. I couldn’t disappoint, could I?”

  “Most certainly not,” he said, grabbing one. “Tell me about the journals.”

  “There’s five of them. I’ve just read a few entries at the beginning of the first one, but Sara told me what I might find. I feel like I’ve found a lode of gold.”

  Her excitement was contagious. And the fact she’d driven to Pueblo to tell him warmed him all the way through.

  “Go on,” he encouraged her.

  “The first entry is Angus leaving Scotland to follow his younger brother here. He finds him half-dead, then the two go by horseback to Independence.”

  Nate loved the excitement he heard in her voice, saw in her eyes.

  “His brother wanted to look for gold, but Angus figured he had a better chance at growing wealth by trading than by digging for gold. He’s a very economical writer, yet the story just flows.”

  She sat in the chair next to his bed. “I didn’t mean to gush,” she said and reached for a brownie. “I never gush,” she added wonderingly.

  “You’re welcome,” he said drily. “And it’s interesting to note you never gush.”

  “Just this once,” she retorted. “And the brownie is my fee for bringing them.” She took a bite and asked, “Are you springing this place tomorrow?”

  “Hopefully at first light.” He was suddenly aware of the new bare spot on his head. His hand went to it before he could catch it.

  “It’s a unique haircut,” she said. “Kind of intriguing.”

  He knew he was seeing the Andy Stuart before the tragedy in Afghanistan. He didn’t know how long it would last, but he liked it. He liked it very much, especially the gushing. Her eyes sparkled with life.

  He tried to tamp down that feeling.

  “Thanks for coming and bringing the goodies,” he said.

  “Oh, I was told to tell you not to worry about Mrs. Byars’s porch. There’s a group of vets over there fixing it. It should be done by tomorrow morning.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “That’s good to hear. I was worried about it.”

  “It’s a pretty neat town you have here,” she said.

  “Yours isn’t?”

  “I think it was once. It’s pretty dismal now. It was a coal town, but the mines played out. It left the old and those too tired to move.”

  “What about your family?”

  “You couldn’t move my mother with a ten-ton truck. Her father, mother and grandparents are buried there. So is my father. She practically lives at the cemetery.”

  “What about friends?”

  She shrugged. “I was always the odd one out.”

  “How?”

  “I was the only girl in ROTC, and they gave me a hard time, but I knew it was probably the only way to get a college degree. That and grades. I studied when everyone else was playing.”

  “I’m surprised a small-town school had a ROTC unit.”

  “We were bused to a larger school twenty miles away. It was big in athletics and the military. I was able to get an ROTC nursing scholarship.”

  “Did you like the military?” He knew he should stop asking questions. It was none of his business and it was one of the unspoken rules of the vets. No questions. If someone wanted to talk, then yes, but otherwise...

  Her eyes clouded, and he thought she wasn’t going to answer. She would probably tell him it was none of his business.

  She didn’t. “It was important,” she said slowly. “I am...was...a surgical nurse. It was always challenging. The...doctor could do magic with some of the traumatic injuries.”

  “It had to be a challenge coming here, a place where you knew no one.”

  “I didn’t feel I had a choice,” Andy said. “I was making minimum wage working in a coffee shop and I was breaking so many cups it was only a matter of time before I was fired.”

  The comment was light but obviously meant to deflect. Yet he couldn’t stop the next words.

  “You could always go back to nursing. Doc Bradley needs someone. I certainly can vouch for you after yesterday.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t,” she said simply. “I had to force myself to come here today. I never know when I’ll have a flashback, and a hospital setting brings...” She shrugged self-consciously. “I just can’t.”

  He suddenly realized why she had seized on the history project. She was running away. He couldn’t blame her, and yet he knew from personal experience that you could never run far enough. At one point, you had to turn and face the past. God knew, it took him long enough.

  He studied her, wondering whether he should mention what he had read online. Then he knew that it would be dishonest if he didn’t. He’d hated dishonesty in Margaret. He wasn’t going to follow that path.

  “I read about the attack in Afghanistan when it happened. Most of us keep up with news like that,” he said.

  She stared at him. The warmth in her eyes was seeping away. “I thought I remembered your name,” he said slowly. “I checked the internet and confirmed it. It must have been hell.”

  “Worse than that,” she said as she ran fingers through her hair. They were shaking. “I should go,” she said. “I shouldn’t leave Joseph in the car this long.” The sparkle in her eyes was replaced by the curtain he’d seen on the first day.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” he started to say, then interrupted himself. “Yes, I did. But I like you, and it was obvious something bad happened. I want to help, and sometimes it helps when you talk about it.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” she said. “It doesn’t help at all.” She turned around and started for the door.

  Damn. Why had he said anything? He should have kept it to himself, or at least left it alone in the beginning. But he thought it unfair that she didn’t know he knew.

  She stopped at the door and turned around. “You shouldn’t have done that. Dr. Payne swore that no one would know. I don’t want pity or understanding or sympathy.” She scowled at him. “I discovered everyone knows everything about people in Covenant Falls, but I thought Afghanistan was off-limits.”

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “I should have left it alone, but I recognized...” Nate stopped, then tried again. “I wanted to help.”

  She gave him a scornful look. “If I wanted help, I would ask for it. And no, you can’t help, not unless you can bring the dead back to life.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have realized you’re a hell of a lot stronger than you think you are. You’re a survivor.”

  “What makes you think I’m a survivor?” she asked.

  “The smile on your face when you came in today.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then swallowed hard. “I feel guilty every time I do that.”

  “You should talk to Josh,” he said. “It took him a long time to smile, too.”

  “I’m not Josh.”

  “You certainly aren’t, but you have the same fiber.”

  “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “Then, tell me,” he said.

  “No.” She opened the door and this time she left.

  He sighed. He’d sure messed that up.

  But one good thing had happened: she’d had fire in her eyes. He much preferred anger over that old emptiness.

  He picked up the book, although he doubted whether he could read the pages. His thoughts were too full of the woman who had just left.

  * * *

  ANDY’S ANGER SWELLED as she left the room.

  It was m
ade stronger by those few moments of intimacy that had warmed her. They had made her forget for a moment, had dulled the sharp slash of memories. She felt betrayed, particularly by someone she liked.

  What had been a good day had turned sad, and she resented Nate for doing it. She didn’t want to be known as the survivor in a massacre.

  She drove to Covenant Falls in time to take Joseph home, freshen up and be on time for dinner at the Monroes’. She’d been surprised at being invited twice the same day, but she’d sensed that Sara Monroe was lonely and Mr. Monroe might have second thoughts about sharing the journals.

  When she arrived, Al was dressed in a suit. He offered both Sara and Andy a drink. Both requested wine while he had what looked like whiskey.

  “Is there anything about the camels in the journals?” Andy asked when they sat down. “I read about the spitting ordinance.” She wanted to hear Angus’s version. It would make great copy for the inn.

  Sara smiled. “Angus bought them from a traveling circus that bought them from the army. They could carry a lot of supplies and go into hard-to-reach camps. But they were fierce-tempered beasts with a habit of biting anyone or any animal that came close, and that included Angus and the handlers. No one really liked the camels but Angus. One bit the wrong man, who promptly shot it. The shooter was quickly hanged. No one liked the camels, but the camels were citizens of Covenant Falls, and the shooter was an outsider.”

  Andy could tell Sara relished the story. “What finally happened to the other one?” Andy asked.

  “Died of old age. An English writer called her the Dowager, and the name stuck. The town held a funeral when she died. You’ll find references to the camels in the journals.”

  “You know that Clint and Nate plan to call their inn the Camel Trail Inn.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Sara said. “But it does have a certain flair about it.”

  “I’m writing some material for them. Do you mind if I use what you told me?”

  “Not at all. I’ve always been fascinated by the Dowager.”

  Andy looked at Sara. “You’ve read all of this in the journals?”

  “Some of it. Some came from lore passed from generation to generation. Whenever I heard any small scrap, I jotted it down. I love history and I had a real-life story here,” Sara said. “I met Al at college. I majored in English but I leaned toward journalism until I discovered there weren’t any jobs. Until then, I was bound and determined to be a reporter, but I fell in love.”

  She looked at Al and smiled. “I never regretted it.”

  “But she still has that instinct in her,” Al said.

  Elena announced dinner.

  Al stood back while Sara led the way to the dining room and Andy followed. But in Al’s last words, she knew exactly why she had been invited.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IT WAS LATE afternoon Thursday before the last physician signed off on Nate and he was finally released. Josh picked him up in his Jeep and started back to Covenant Falls.

  “I messed up,” Nate confessed as they left the Pueblo city limits.

  Josh glanced at him. “In addition to your various injuries?” he asked.

  “I told Andy yesterday that I knew what happened in Afghanistan.”

  Josh looked at him with a question in his eyes.

  Nate hesitated, then confessed. “I went online and looked her up. There was an attack on her field surgical team while they were operating. Andy was the only survivor. Apparently, she was engaged to one of the victims, a doctor. You didn’t know?” Nate asked.

  Josh was silent, then said, “I knew from Dr. Payne that she’d been through a lot, but nothing like this. Being a lone survivor brings a hell of a lot of guilt.”

  Nate knew that only too well. When he’d served in Iraq he’d been wounded during a search through enemy-occupied buildings. Two of his buddies had been killed on the last mission. He was still haunted by their faces, and that was only a fraction of what she’d suffered.

  “She’s damned gutsy,” Nate said.

  “She is that,” Josh said. “It explains why she jumped headfirst into our history. She needed something. Just like I did. My salvation was rehabbing the cabin.”

  “And Eve,” Nate said.

  “Especially Eve,” Josh admitted. He studied Nate. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Hell, she’s off-limits. If I hadn’t known before, I do now. She’s still carrying a load full of pain,” Nate said.

  “You do know, don’t you, that every unmarried woman in Covenant Falls has tried to penetrate that shell around you.”

  “That’s about three people,” Nate said, “and all over fifty.”

  “A few more than that, or so my wife tells me.”

  “She’s only here to heal. Then she’ll be gone.” Nate said.

  “Dammit, Nate, sometimes reasons are just excuses. Believe me, I know. If you like her, do something about it.”

  “She’s fragile,” Nate protested.

  “I think she’s discovering she’s stronger than she thought,” Josh replied. “She faced Al in his den and came up triumphant. Damn if I know how she did it.”

  “I do,” Nate said. “She looks like Al’s sister when she was at that age, and he adored her. You wouldn’t know that, since you never met Regina.”

  Josh looked stunned. “For real?” he finally said.

  “Eve probably noticed it, as well,” Nate said. “Regina was fifteen years younger than Al, and he helped raise her. She and her husband died in a car accident when she was about Eve’s age.”

  Josh pondered that. “I knew about her, of course, because of my problems with Sam. Eve didn’t mention the resemblance and maybe she didn’t think about it, but then Eve can be devious in pursuing a good cause.” He grinned. “Much to my surprise, it’s one of the things I love about her. She never gives up on anyone, me included.”

  Nate didn’t answer. He usually distrusted manipulation, even in pursuit of good. He’d had too much experience with the kind that didn’t mean well.

  Eve and her huge heart was the exception.

  “I take it you told her you’ve checked on her, and she didn’t take it well,” Josh said.

  “Right and right.”

  “Better you told her than she discovers it later.”

  “That was my thinking until she pretty much told me to go to hell. She takes privacy seriously.”

  “So do you, my friend, as a rule. You must have it bad.”

  Nate shook his head in wonderment. “It’s impossible,” he said.

  “Nothing is impossible. Look at Clint and Stephanie.”

  Nate just raised an eyebrow. “Andy just lost her fiancé in a hail of bullets. I don’t have two cents to my name. Whatever I did have after my marriage is tied up in the inn.”

  “She’s army, and I’ve seen how easy you two are together, even if you don’t.”

  “Even if I thought it could work, I’ve blown it.”

  Josh changed the subject. “Speaking of our last two cents, we need to start working on the program for the preview weekend. The gold mines for sure. I’ve already talked to Herman Mann about a jeep trip to the gold mine near his cabin, and he knows of several other mines. He and Clint are going to prepare maps. I was thinking we should start with a steak fry up at the falls at sunset,” Josh said.

  Nate shook his head. “Why not leave the falls for Sunday? End with a Sunday brunch at the waterfalls at noon. If it’s good weather, we should have the rainbow. It’ll allow everyone time to get back to Denver before nightfall with a great memory. Saturday will be used for activities: the gold-mining tour, horseback riding, hiking, even rafting on the river below the falls.”

  “I like it,” Josh said. “But we have to plan something Saturday and Friday nig
hts.”

  Nate was stymied. “Damn if I know, but half of our guests are women. We need something that will appeal to them... Maybe Eve or Stephanie will have an idea.”

  “Or Andy?” Josh added.

  “Or Andy,” Nate agreed although he feared she might not talk to him again after his confession. “Maybe we should have a meeting.”

  “Not today. You, my friend, are going home to bed. You can barely walk on that ankle and you lost blood, not to mention a concussion. An afternoon off is mandatory. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

  “But you’ll talk to Eve tonight?” Nate bargained.

  Josh nodded as they drove up to Nate’s house.

  Satisfied, Nate left Josh’s Jeep and limped up to his house. Ideas were tumbling through his head. An event. They needed an event of some kind. Maybe even one they could develop into a draw for tourists. He knew some towns had really turned around when they held annual events. Covenant Falls needed a turnaround, and quickly.

  He limped his way into the kitchen. There was a note on the counter. “Shepherd’s pie in the fridge. Just heat at 350 for an hour. If you need anything, call me. Mom.”

  She knew him well. She knew he disliked being fussed over and she also knew he would probably be hungry. He called her. “Hey, Mom, thanks for the care package.”

  He hung up after assuring her he was fine, located the shepherd’s pie, his favorite, and preheated the oven. He sat at the kitchen table and thought about his conversation with Josh. Disjointed activities just wouldn’t make the impact they needed for the preview. He knew enough public relations from his home-building days to understand that a story pulled people in. Right now they just had a hodgepodge of unrelated activities.

  He stared at the shepherd’s pie. The last thing he wanted now was to eat alone. It hadn’t bothered him in a long time, but this afternoon it did. Maybe it was the disappointment in Andy’s face when he had mentioned Afghanistan, the fact that he had invaded her privacy. Maybe the shepherd’s pie would be a good apology.