The Soldier's Promise

by Patricia Potter

  Nick didn’t wait for him to finish. “Grandma wants to meet you. Maybe you can come over and meet Braveheart, Miss Marple, Fancy and Captain Hook. Do you play baseball?” The words ran together in his enthusiasm. Eve had to smile at his excitement. Surprisingly, for a man without a family, Josh knew just how to talk to him. Or maybe he did have a family somewhere. She was reminded how little she knew about him.

  “I’m...sorry,” she said, apologizing for Nick’s questions, but Josh shook his head.

  “Played baseball a little in the army,” he said.

  Another snippet of information. Nick was the only one that seemed to be able to elicit any. Josh suddenly seemed...approachable. Even open. Nick had disarmed him in a way she had not.

  But she didn’t want to wear out her welcome.

  She also recalled Al’s words about visiting Josh. She wasn’t going to let him tell her what to do, but she was only too aware of how fast gossip ran through Covenant Falls and how Al could twist it to get his way.

  “Enjoy,” she said. “There will be more this weekend. The city’s sponsoring a fund-raiser for our community center. Abby is baking cinnamon rolls for sale, along with pies. You think her rolls are good, just try her cherry pie. There will be other food, too.” She eyed the sofa and raised an eyebrow. “And a rummage sale. You can also probably get some good buys in used furniture.”

  “Are you maligning my sofa?” he asked with a crooked grin that took her breath away.

  “Never,” she said with a grin of her own. She hurried on, hoping to interest him into attending the fund-raiser. If everyone else met him like she had, attitudes would change. “Stephanie is auctioning a dog-training class, and she’s going to have an example obedience class featuring none other than Nick and one of our dogs.”

  “Please come,” her son begged.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I would like to, but I’m expecting some deliveries Saturday morning.”

  Nick looked at Josh with wide eyes.

  “Hey, I really need a stove and fridge. You don’t want me to starve to death.” It was an apology of sorts, and it surprised her.

  “It’s going to be in and around the community center in the big park at the lake,” she said. “We’re trying to raise money for computers for kids and books for the library. Drop in if you get through. And now we really do have to go.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for the rolls.”

  “Say goodbye to Amos,” she told Nick, who, she knew, was about to protest.

  After one look at Eve, Nick leaned down over the dog, who had hovered near him, and gave him a big hug. Amos tolerated it.

  Eve thought she saw the smallest smile on Josh’s face but wasn’t sure.

  She did know that nothing had calmed the tingling feelings inside. They were still there. Even stronger. But now there was something else, something even more dangerous. She liked Josh Manning. She liked him very much.

  And she prayed he wasn’t aware of it. Forcing herself not to look back, she hustled her son out the door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JOSH QUIT PAINTING at midnight, only because his leg wouldn’t hold out much longer. It was time to walk Amos before it stopped working completely.

  He put the brushes away. The kitchen was mainly done but there was still finishing trim needed in both the kitchen and main room. Then there were the two bedrooms, a hall and a bathroom to go.

  Amos had remained in his bedroom, probably offended by the smell of paint. Josh called to him and was relieved when Amos poked his nose out the door with a “do I have to?” look.

  “Latrine time,” he said.

  The night was cooler than in past few days. A half moon drifted in and out of clouds. He started down the road. The house next to him was dark.

  He limped to the side of the road when bright headlights moved toward him. The patrol car again. He wondered whether it would stop, but it continued slowly past his cabin to the road’s end. Then it turned back. Its lights suddenly went bright as they approached him. Josh thought for a second that it might stop, but it continued its slow way past him, then sped up. He didn’t like the clammy feeling that ran down his back. He’d felt it before when danger threatened. But there shouldn’t be danger here.

  Amos did his canine duty and Josh picked up after him. They reached the end of the road, then turned back. Josh didn’t want to walk on the main road on a dark night, and his leg was complaining bitterly. “Okay, Amos, time to return to base.”

  Amos looked at him, then wagged his tail. He knew he would get a nighttime treat, but still, this was the first time he’d greeted the comment with any sign of enthusiasm. Josh thought about young Nick’s request to bring another dog. Maybe that would be good for Amos. Four dogs. Eve had four dogs and other assorted animals. He had trouble with one.

  He counted the ways they were incompatible. He got to five and stopped. They reached the cabin and Josh reprised his now almost normal routine of a cold shower, then a hot one. The cold water somewhat dissipated the sexual tension still very much bedeviling him and the heat soaked some of the pain away. He sat down on the bed, and Amos relaxed close by on the floor. Josh felt a jolt of satisfaction. Amos wasn’t hiding tonight. He wasn’t the dog Josh had known with Dave. Not at all. But there were small steps.

  He’d realized today he would need help tearing up the floor and laying down the tiles. Kneeling most of the day would be awkward and slow. He didn’t want to contact Eve...or maybe he did, and that was why he shouldn’t.

  He could call Stephanie for a name, but he had another idea. One that might improve his reputation in town. He didn’t much care what others thought of him, but he realized he might be hurting Eve, and that was the last thing he wanted.

  As physically tired as he was, he knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. It never did and never left gently. Too many memories. Too many debts. He picked up the book he’d left on the pillow. A biography of Thomas Jefferson. Some might think it dry, but somewhere along the way he’d picked up a love of history. He would read until he drifted off. The sound of Amos’s soft snoring helped. He turned off the light at two, hoping tonight would be one without demons.

  * * *

  AT 9:00 A.M., Josh changed from work clothes into a new pair of jeans and a green shirt. He’d already been up for hours, finishing the trim on the two rooms he’d painted. He would start peeling wallpaper in the bathroom after the flooring was installed in the kitchen and living room.

  He shaved closely and even trimmed and combed his hair. Then, holding an empty tin that once held a dozen brownies, he straightened his back and resolutely left the sanctuary of the cabin.

  The sky was clearing now, but there had been heavy rain during the night. The thunder had jerked him awake at dawn, and for moments he’d thought he was back at camp in Afghanistan. Amos had crawled up on the narrow bed, shivered and whined. It had been uncomfortable, sharing a narrow bed with a big, furry animal, but satisfaction had overrode discomfort. It was a giant step for Amos. Maybe he needed to take one, as well.

  He walked two doors down the road, approached the neat white cottage and rang the bell. He saw someone peek out the window, then the door opened and the plump elderly woman who had brought the brownies a week earlier opened the door, a quizzical look on her face.

  He held out the tin. “Ma’am,” he said, “I want to apologize. I was inexcusably rude the other morning. My leg hurt late into the night and I had just gotten to sleep when you came.” He tried a repentant smile, although he had damn little experience at it. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the brownies. They were truly a work of art.”

  Her face softened. Sympathy flooded it, and she opened the screen door and took the tin. “I heard you and your dog saved young Nick Douglas. That family has had so many troubles. I’m grateful to you. Would you come in and have some
coffee?”

  It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was on a mission to make amends. “Thank you, ma’am. I will, but I can’t stay long. I’m expecting some deliveries today and have some painting to do.”

  “We’re certainly glad someone is fixing that cabin,” she said. “Now, you just come into the kitchen.” She hustled him inside. “Jim Douglas said you were busy fixing the cabin. He’s the one who told me about that snake. Nearly scared the wits out of me because I have a garden out back.”

  He went by a framed photo on the fireplace mantel and stopped as he saw the large photograph of a young man in uniform.

  “My son,” she said. “He was killed in the last days of the war in Vietnam.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, guilt now piling on top of guilt. He’d hurt this woman who’d lost a son.

  “Lots of folks around here have lost sons,” she said. “Kids here don’t have many opportunities. Don’t see much of life beyond this town. Jesse wanted to see the world. Instead, he died in a godforsaken country. Guess you would know something about godforsaken countries.”

  He must have looked surprised.

  “I had you pegged for military the first time I saw you,” she said. “That’s why the brownies. But I knew when I saw you that morning that it wasn’t a good time. I’m sorry for intruding.”

  He was stunned. He had come to apologize. Now she was apologizing to him after suffering the worst loss a mother could. At least some mothers.

  “I’m Josh Manning,” he said, “and you’re right. I was with the army.”

  “Officer?”

  “Sergeant,” he said.

  “Jesse had just made sergeant.” Sadness filled her voice.

  Josh didn’t know what to say. He had written letters to new widows and other loved ones when he’d lost a member of his team. It had always been his most difficult responsibility, and he’d always felt inadequate. He felt just as inadequate now.

  He needed to change the subject. “I was hoping you could do me a big favor,” he said.

  “If I can,” she replied instantly.

  “I’m tearing up the floors in the kitchen and main room, and I need some help. I figured you probably know everyone and might be aware of someone who would like the job.”

  She smiled. “Bless you, of course I do. Betty Rowland’s son, Nathan. He lost his construction job in Denver. He’s a hard worker and honest as the day is long. Here,” she said as she picked up an address book and wrote down a number. “Tell him June Byars told you to call.”

  She poured coffee into a cup, then asked, “Cream or sugar?”

  “Neither, ma’am,” he said. “Black.”

  A plate of cookies appeared along with the coffee. Chocolate chip, he noticed. To be polite, he took one. The coffee was good, the cookie even better. He took a second one, and Mrs. Byars beamed. Then her face turned serious. “I knew David Hannity. He used to love those cookies. Can you tell me what happened to him?”

  It was the question he dreaded. From anyone. But he liked this woman, and she apparently had known Dave well.

  “He died in Afghanistan about nine months ago. He was a good soldier and a good friend.”

  “I’m so glad he had one,” she said softly. “He had one tragedy after another. I worried about him. Kept hoping he would come back, but I guess there were just too many bad memories.” She paused, then added, “You need any more help, Mr. Manning, you just come to me.”

  That was exactly what he had intended to say to her, to offer help if needed. “Josh,” he said. “My name is Josh.”

  “Josh. I’m happy to have you as a neighbor.”

  He finished the second cookie and stood, thanking her. Before he could leave, she thrust a cookie tin in his hands. He mumbled his thanks and stumbled toward the door. Once there, he turned back. “If you ever need any help, just call me.”

  “You seem busy enough now,” she said, “but I always enjoy a visit.” There was a twinkle in her eyes.

  He left the cottage with the tin of cookies, thinking maybe civilians weren’t so bad after all. There was Eve, Nick, Stephanie and now Mrs. Byars.

  Maybe he’d misjudged Covenant Falls. Maybe he might stay longer than he’d planned. Probably not a good time to sell anyway.

  When he returned to the cabin, he called the number Mrs. Byars had given him and made an appointment to meet Nathan Rowland the next day, Thursday, at noon.

  * * *

  THE BUDGET WAS to be published Thursday, but it had gone to the publisher Wednesday and word had leaked out. Eve fielded calls all morning asking why this project was in it and that one was not. Why there weren’t funds for paving for Oak Street when Front Street was scheduled for resurfacing. The school budget was cut. Not much, but it meant an employee raise that was half of last year’s. Teachers felt betrayed by the widow of one of their own.

  The police department also came in for a cut. She would have to cut one dispatcher. That meant only one officer and one car at night while the other night officer manned the phone, but she left uncut an open position as patrolman. They had been running one man short for four months.

  Tom would not be happy about the loss of a dispatcher. He came in her office, a frown on his face.

  “You don’t like the budget?” she said.

  “No, but I understand priorities.” He walked around the office.

  She knew that meant trouble. “Okay, Tom, what’s wrong?”

  “Sam Clark says he has a witness who saw a Jeep in back of the Boot Hill Saloon on the night it was robbed. He said it was a dark green.”

  Her heart jumped a beat. Josh’s Jeep was green, and there weren’t that many Jeeps in town. In fact, she didn’t know of another one. “Who’s the witness?”

  “Tim Waters.”

  She knew Tim. He had been on one of Russ’s football teams and had hopes of a college football career. Russ had said he had the talent but not the discipline. He’d been thrown off the team for drinking before games. The first offence had put him on probation, the second had knocked him off the team for the season in his senior year. His family had blamed Russ when he wasn’t offered a football scholarship.

  She wouldn’t trust him with a candy bar, and said as much.

  “I know,” Tom said into the silence. “That was my reaction, as well. He’s been in jail several times on drunk-and-disorderly charges, but lately he seems to be on the right track. Cliff Barber, his boss, says he’s been on the wagon for years now.”

  “He says he saw the Jeep Saturday night.”

  Tom nodded. “I’m going to have to talk to Mr. Manning.”

  “He didn’t do it,” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “You said he had a good army record. You’re taking Tim’s word as your only evidence to accuse someone? Maybe he did it and is trying to throw the blame on Manning.”

  “I checked a little deeper. Manning was a Ranger. Tough outfit and highly skilled in getting into difficult places.”

  “That’s all?”

  His face flushed. “We can’t ignore the fact that we didn’t have robberies until Manning came.”

  She found herself getting angry. She tried to hide it. Tom was under pressure about the robberies. And he had a heart condition. He shouldn’t even be working.

  But she felt Josh was just beginning to like—or maybe tolerate—Covenant Falls. She knew the effect questioning would have on him. He would retreat again, just as he was beginning to open up.

  “I’m sorry, Little Bit, but I have to at least talk to him. I do, or Sam will do it, and I’m a hell of a lot more diplomatic.”

  It had been a long time since he had called her “Little Bit.” That went way back when she was six, and Tom was her father’s best friend. “Can’t you stop Sam?”<
br />
  “I could, but the council is up in arms. There are definitely grounds to question him now that Waters has come out publicly. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t. The other members of the council are on the edge of firing me.”

  “They can’t. That comes under my job description.”

  “They can take the money for the department out of the budget. And they will.” He glanced around her office, then said, “What about grabbing a few sandwiches and drinks and driving down to the lake?”

  Bad news was coming. She could feel it. Taste it. “Okay.”

  “Where?”

  “The Dairy Queen,” Tom said. “Maude’s is too crowded.”

  She nodded. “Miss Mollie’s outside. Better that than the chief’s car.”

  It was a short distance, but she didn’t want him walking more than necessary. They walked together to the pickup, then she drove the few blocks to the Dairy Queen, the hangout of every kid in town. It was empty now, but it would be filled at three. It was, after all, the next-to-last day of school. Graduation ceremonies would be next week.

  She ordered a burger and fries. He sighed and ordered a grilled chicken sandwich without the bun. “Doctor’s orders,” he said sadly.

  “I’m proud of you, Tom.”

  He grumbled.

  They were the only ones in the park and headed for a picnic table. From here she could see across the lake to Josh’s cabin. It was too far to see details or know whether his Jeep was there. It was usually parked under a pine tree as protection against the bright sunlight.

  Tom hesitated, then said, “I know this Manning helped your son, but you don’t know that much about him.”

  “You always tell me I’m a good judge of character, and don’t tell me you’re buying in to Sam’s theory.”

  “No, I’m not,” he said.

  “Then why bother Mr. Manning?”

  “Because I don’t have any proof Tim Waters is lying.” He hesitated. “I think Al is planning to run against you later this year, using me and these burglaries as a reason.”