The Soldier's Redemption

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “You did fly. You flew here to Redemption Ranch.”

  Yes, she had. She’d been flying away from something, someone.

  From Mitch.

  Reluctantly, she stepped back from the warm circle of Finn’s arms. She looked at the floor across the room, embarrassed to meet his eyes, because she’d not only enjoyed his kiss, she’d returned it.

  “Someday,” he said, “I want to hear more about what you flew away from.”

  She bit her lip. She was starting to trust him, kind of wanted to tell him. Finn’s solid protection and support would be such a blessing to her and Leo.

  But there, as he crossed his arms and looked at her, was his Eighty-second Airborne tattoo. She still didn’t know how attached he was to his unit, how close the bonds of brotherhood went for him.

  Just because of who he was, she’d suspect the ties held tight. He was the loyal type, for sure. “The past isn’t important,” she said, not looking at him.

  Something flashed in his eyes, some emotion. “I’m not sure I agree with you. If you don’t deal with the past, you can’t move forward.”

  “Moving forward is maybe overrated.”

  “Like us kissing?”

  She huffed out a fake kind of laugh. “Yeah.”

  He cocked his head to one side, looking at her, his expression a little puzzled. “I don’t understand women very well,” he said. “And it’s late. I should be going.”

  Something inside her wanted to cling on, to cry out, No, don’t go! But that was the needy part of her that her mom had despised. The part that had experienced Mitch’s attention and glommed right on. “See you tomorrow,” she said, forcing her voice to sound casual.

  “Actually, not much,” he said. “After the meeting tomorrow morning, I’ll be away for the weekend.”

  “Oh.” Her heart did a little plummet, and that was bad. She was already too attached, expecting to see him every day.

  He must have heard something in her voice. “It’s a reunion,” he said, indicating his tattoo. “Eighty-second Airborne.”

  Her heart hit the floor. “Oh.”

  He laughed a little. “Bunch of old guys telling stories, mostly. But I love ’em. They’re my brothers.”

  Of course they were. He’d do anything for his brothers.

  Including, if it came to that, helping one of them find the woman who’d betrayed him and taken away his son. “Finn, about...this,” she said, waving a hand, her cheeks heating. “We shouldn’t... I mean, I don’t—”

  His face hardened. “I understand. We got carried away.”

  “Exactly. I just didn’t want you to think...”

  “That it meant something?”

  It meant everything. “Exactly,” she lied.

  “Agreed,” he said, his bearing going a little more upright and military. “See you.”

  And he was gone. The little lost girl inside Kayla curled up in a ball and cried at the loss of him.

  * * *

  She was hiding something.

  Finn headed toward Penny’s place for the dreaded semiannual meeting with the ranch’s finance guy. Bingo, his current dog, loped along beside him.

  “You have to act nice if you’re coming to the meeting,” Finn grumbled to the dog, but Bingo only laughed up at him. “I know. Penny will give you treats to make you behave.”

  The dog’s tail started to wag at the T word.

  Finn tried to focus on the dog, on the fresh morning air, on anything but the fact that he’d kissed Kayla last night. And she’d responded. She’d liked it.

  And then she’d backed right off.

  Had she heard the truth about Finn, or remembered it? Was that why she’d pushed him away?

  But it wasn’t just that. She was secretive, and he wanted to know why. Wanted to know what it was in her past that had her running. If they were going to be involved, he needed to know.

  Were they going to be involved?

  Probably not. For sure not. He’d made the decision, after losing his wife and son, that he wasn’t going to go there again. Up until now, his grief had been so thick and dark that the promise hadn’t been hard to keep.

  But Kayla and Leo had made their way through his darkness and were battering at the hard shell surrounding his heart. He’d held Leo last night, held him for at least an hour, and the experience had softened something inside him.

  Leo needed a father figure. And some part of Finn, apparently, needed a son.

  But he didn’t deserve a son. He didn’t deserve to look forward, with hope, to the kind of happy new life that Derek and Deirdre would never have.

  It was just that holding Kayla, kissing her, had been so very, very sweet. It had brought something inside him back to life.

  He reached the main house. A glance at his phone told him he was early, so he settled on the edge of the porch.

  If he did get involved with Kayla—and he wasn’t saying he would, but if it happened—he wanted to know the truth about her. And, he rationalized, she was his employee. He needed to know.

  Raakib Khan had served with Finn in the Eighty-second, and they’d had each other’s backs. When Raakib came home, he’d started a little detective agency.

  Finn called Raakib, shot the breeze for a minute and then gave him everything he knew about Kayla.

  “What is your interest, my friend?” Raakib asked.

  “She works for me.”

  “And is that all?”

  Finn let out a disgusted snort. After all they’d been through together, Raakib could read him like a book. “That’s all you need to know about,” he growled and ended the call.

  When he looked up, he saw Kayla walking toward him. His face heated. What had she heard?

  She gave him a little wave and walked up the stairs toward the conference room. He got to his feet and followed, the dog ambling behind him.

  Penny was in the kitchen, putting doughnuts on a tray, so he veered over her way. “You still sure about having Bingo here?”

  “I think it’s fine. It keeps us all in a good mood and reminds us of our mission.”

  He leaned closer. “Why is Kayla here?”

  Penny shrugged. “I feel like we need all the ideas we can get. We’re in trouble, Finn.”

  “Worse than I know?”

  “You’ll hear.” She handed him the tray of doughnuts. “Carry this in there, will you? I’ll be right in.”

  Their banker was there. A vet out of the Baltic, but you wouldn’t have known it from his suit and dress shoes. Well, he was navy, after all.

  He seemed to be grilling Kayla.

  Finn wanted to protect her, felt that urge, except that she was holding her own. “No, I’ve never worked for this exact type of organization before,” she admitted to Branson Howe. “But I volunteered with a nonprofit for kids, and I’ve run a business, so Penny thought I might be able to help. With the website or something.”

  She’d run a business? That was news to him.

  Branson was frowning, arms crossed.

  “We can use an outsider perspective,” Finn said. “It’s been just me and Penny since...well, since everything went haywire.” He glanced over at Penny, who’d just walked in. Sometimes he worried about how she was dealing, or not dealing, with what had happened.

  “It’s okay, Finn—you can talk about it.” Penny’s abrupt tone called her words into question. “Coffee, everyone? We should get started.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Branson glared at Penny.

  Undercurrents. You had to love them. Penny and Branson always circled around each other like two dogs getting ready to fight.

  “You called the meeting,” she said, “so why don’t you tell us what’s on your mind?”

  Finn glanced at Kayla, who lifted an eyebrow back at him, obviously
reading the back-and-forth as personal, the way he was. “I’ll get you a cup of coffee,” she offered. “Penny, do you need a refill?”

  She waved a hand, leaning forward to look at Branson. “What’s going on?”

  “I just got a notice from the IRS.” Branson opened his laptop and accepted a cup of coffee. “We missed a payment, and there’s going to be a fine attached to it when we make it. We need to get on it and pay so the IRS doesn’t flag us as suspicious. If that happens, we’ll be in line for a lot of paperwork and audits.”

  “I thought the taxes, at least, were fine.” Penny frowned. “We had an outside firm do them. They said they’d found enough deductions that we didn’t have to pay anything.”

  Branson dropped his head and looked at her. “And you didn’t question that?”

  “No. I did pay them, of course... Oh.” Penny smacked her forehead. “I’m an idiot.”

  “What?” Finn had to ask.

  “I was going to get someone new for this year, but with as busy as I’ve been, I didn’t. The outside firm was the one Harry chose, and I wonder...” She trailed off. “Again. I’m an idiot.”

  Harry. Penny’s ex, and a poor excuse for a man.

  “I looked into your tax people.” Branson hesitated and looked at Penny. For the first time, a hint of sympathy twisted the corner of his mouth.

  “I’m not made of glass. Give it to me straight.”

  “Apparently, one of the silent owners of your outside firm was Oneida Emerson. That could be why no forms were filed.”

  “None?” Penny’s voice was casual, but her fists made red spots on her arms.

  Again, Branson’s eyes portrayed a little sympathy. “I’m hoping this is the last bad news I have to give you, from this situation, but I can’t promise that,” he said.

  “Give it to me straight,” Penny said. “Do you think we’re going to make it? Or do we give up and shut down?”

  “The vets and the dogs need us,” Finn protested.

  As if understanding his safe haven was at stake, Bingo let out a low whine and rested his head on Finn’s knee.

  “What about the grant we...you...just got?” Kayla asked.

  “Can’t be used for anything other than what we applied for. Improvements to the physical facility.” Even if what they needed most was money for something else.

  “What’s the fine and back taxes likely to add up to?” Penny asked.

  Branson named a number that was twice their operating budget.

  Finn groaned and looked over at Penny. She was shaking her head. “If I could get my hands on Harry and his—” She bit off whatever she’d been going to say, but Finn could guess at it.

  Even Bingo sighed and flopped to the floor, looking mournful.

  “If you could just get some publicity and success stories out there, you might be able to raise enough in donations,” Branson said. “You’ve barely started fund-raising. But—”

  “That’s right,” Kayla interrupted. “Everyone wants to support vets, and who can resist the dogs?”

  “But we have no money for publicity, is the problem,” Penny said. “No time to put together a campaign, either.”

  “Can’t get water from a stone.” Branson closed his folder. “And neither of you has any background at fund-raising.”

  “You can’t give up.” Kayla leaned forward and looked in turn at everyone at the table. “Even if you don’t have money, there are ways to get the word out.”

  Finn’s heart squeezed as he looked at her earnest expression. It was sweet that she cared, given the short length of time she’d been here.

  “I’m listening,” Penny said in a dismissive tone that suggested she wasn’t.

  “Social media, for one. An updated website, for another.”

  “We have that stuff. It hasn’t helped so far.”

  “Pardon me for saying so,” Kayla said, “but it’s all out of date. You—we, I’ll help—need to keep that fresh and add new content.”

  “I know you’re right,” Penny said, “but I’m not posting pictures of the veterans. That’s stood in our way.”

  “Well, okay, not without permission. But aren’t there some who will ham it up for the camera? I’m sure Willie would.”

  Penny snorted out a laugh. “You’re right about that.”

  “Capitalize on the setting. How warmhearted the community is.” She sat up straighter, her cheeks flushing a little. “Maybe have an event that brings the whole community up here. And then photograph and video bits of it to use all year.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Penny said, “but wouldn’t donations just trickle in? If Branson’s right, we need money now.”

  “A fund-raising event isn’t likely to bring in enough to weather this crisis, even if you could really get the word out,” Branson said. “And what about when the next crisis comes?”

  Finn debated briefly whether to speak up. But Kayla had changed the tone of the meeting and it had made him think of an idea that had been nudging at him. “Let me throw something out there,” he said. “That old bunkhouse. If we renovated it, we might be able to host people to come up here.”

  “A working-ranch type of thing?” Penny looked skeptical. “That would take a lot of time, and our staff is small.”

  “But it’s a possibility,” Kayla said.

  Penny frowned. “Wouldn’t we have to have more ranch-type activities? Like riding horses and roping cattle or something?”

  Finn snorted. “Not many ranches run according to that model anymore,” he said.

  “But,” Penny said, “that’s what people expect at a dude ranch. My sister worked at one for a while, and the Easterners want all the stereotypes.”

  Branson was shaking his head. “I don’t like the liability issues, if you’re having people do actual ranch work.”

  Kayla looked thoughtful. “I think people would enjoy coming out here for the peace.” She waved a hand at the window. “Lots of people just want to get away. Relax. Reflect. This is a great place to do all that.”

  “This is getting to be pretty pie-in-the-sky,” Branson said. “We need to pay our bills. You’re talking about a renovation, lots of initial investment. You can’t afford that.”

  “We have to start somewhere, Branson,” Penny said impatiently. “Kayla and Finn are just suggesting some ideas. Which is more than I hear you doing.”

  Finn looked at Penny. She wasn’t usually confrontational. He couldn’t blame her, given that her husband and his girlfriend had absconded with the ranch’s funds. But she shouldn’t take it out on Branson, who was, after all, a volunteer.

  A volunteer who had a thing for Penny, if Finn’s instincts were firing right.

  Kayla snapped her fingers. “Crowdfunding. The kids’ organization I volunteered for did it.”

  “I don’t like it.” Branson shook his head. “My niece tried to crowdfund to pay off her college loans, and then got mad when everyone in the extended family didn’t donate.”

  “But this is a real cause,” Penny said. “We’re not just trying to avoid our responsibilities. Anyone who knows us knows how hard we work.”

  “Do they know, though?” Kayla asked. “Maybe we should do an open house and crowdfunding. People in the community could come up and see what we do, see the dogs and whatever vets are willing. We could talk about our mission. If we put that together with an online campaign, we might at least get some breathing room.”

  Penny tipped her head to one side, considering. Then she nodded. “Worth a try, anyway. It might create some buzz.”

  Branson threw his hands in the air, looking impatient. “You people are dreamers. Some Podunk carnival isn’t going to raise the money you need, not in such a limited time frame.”

  “How limited?” Finn asked.

  “The penalty will go up in two weeks. I don’t th
ink—”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Penny asked him.

  “Good fiscal management, maybe?” He stood up and grabbed his papers. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some other responsibilities to attend to.” He nodded at Kayla and Finn and walked out.

  Kayla stared after him and then looked at Finn, one eyebrow raised.

  “Don’t ask me,” he said. “Penny and Branson have some issues that go way back.”

  “Hello, I’m in the room,” Penny said. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not.”

  “Plus,” Finn went on, ignoring her, “I think Branson takes care of his mother and a special-needs daughter. He’s stretched pretty thin.”

  “He is, but that’s not an excuse for shooting down every idea we have.” Penny grabbed a chocolate-frosted doughnut and bit into it.

  “What do you think of it all?” Finn asked her. “Because if you’re in, then I think we should go full bore into this fund-raiser. But we shouldn’t make the effort if it’s all for nothing. You know more about the books than I do.”

  “I think it’s worth a try,” Penny said slowly. “But it would be an all-hands-on-deck sort of situation. That means you, Kayla. You brought up some great ideas. Are you willing to help?”

  “Of course,” Kayla said. “This place does important work. I would hate to see it go under. And the Lord knows I’m used to working against some odds.” She did a half smile.

  Finn’s heart turned over. Stick to business. “I can cancel my weekend trip. This is more important.”

  Penny bit her lip. “I got a call this morning from my daughter.”

  “That’s a surprise, right?”

  Penny nodded. “She’s been having some contractions. If it’s labor—”

  “Then you should go,” Kayla said instantly. “We can handle things here.”

  “Yes,” Finn agreed. “We can handle it.” Penny never asked for anything for herself, always carried more than her share of the load. If she had the chance to mend things with her daughter—and be there when her first grandchild was born—Finn was all in favor.

  “You guys are the best,” Penny said. “It’s probably Braxton Hicks. I should be able to stick around for a few days and help get this project going. And I can do the online fund-raising part from anywhere. It’s just that there will be a lot of on-the-ground organization if we’re really going to do an open house.”