The Soldier's Homecoming

“Are you active or retired?”

“A little of both, I guess. I’m not quite out yet.” He didn’t ask how she knew.

“Well, thank you for picking me up,” she said with a grin. “Can we stop for lunch on the way? I’m starved.” She wanted him out of the car. Face-to-face.

“Sure. What do you like?”

“A hamburger. A nice, big juicy one with a large plate of fries.”

“I think I can manage that,” he said with the smallest crack of a smile. “But why do you sound as if you’ve been deprived?”

“Long, sad tale that I’m sure would bore you.”

“I doubt that.”

She retreated. She wanted to know about him. He had turned the tables. She wasn’t accustomed to that.

“If you can wait, the best burger in Colorado is in Covenant Falls,” he said. “Maude’s. I personally vouch for that.”

“Okay. I can tolerate a growling stomach if you can.”

“On the way, maybe you can tell me about that long, sad tale.”

Dammit. Perhaps, if she answered, he would reveal more himself. She wanted that. More and more every moment. “Hospitals,” she said, “and a family that believes hamburgers are...well...plebeian. And before that there was Syria and a few other places that didn’t count hamburgers as part of their daily diet.”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Weeks. There were several surgeries on my right shoulder. It’s improving, but not as fast as I would like.” She didn’t want to talk about it. “What about you? Have you been to Syria?”

She was dangling her fishing rod, hoping to catch some clues about him. Ally or obstacle? She had been thrown off by his appearance. After reading a short news story about Covenant Falls and the opening of the inn, she’d been expecting the very nice, very helpful woman she’d spoken with on the phone. That she’d been replaced by a cautious newcomer did not bode well. This was a warning flag. She felt it in her bones.

“The government says I haven’t been,” he replied.

“I’m aware of what the government says. What do you say?”

“What the government says.”

She hid a smile and changed topics. “Are you a Ranger?” she asked. She’d met a lot of them. She would bet her last dollar he was Special Forces. There was a confidence about them that was unmistakable. They were among the best and knew it.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“And you’re on leave?”

“Yes.”

He was a master at brevity. “Why are you in Covenant Falls?” she persisted.

“Seeing a friend.”

“One of the veterans?”

He glanced at her. “You’re just full of questions.”

“I’m a reporter,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Didn’t anyone warn you?”

“Not completely.”

His answers were frustrating. She thought from his tone he knew that and was thoroughly enjoying it. She looked out the window at the mountains looming ahead. “I find it very interesting that I’ve never heard anything about Covenant Falls, even though I lived in Denver.”

“Maybe because the people there don’t care whether you did or not.”

“I find that even more interesting.”

He chuckled. It had a very nice tone to it.

She studied the barely visible scar that turned the right corner of his mouth up slightly. It would have been a classically handsome face minus the scar. She wondered whether he minded that imperfection.

“Tell me about the town,” she said.

“What do you want to know?”

“How many veterans live there?”

“Susan didn’t tell you?” Susan had apparently told her altogether too much.

“No. She just said there were a lot.”

“That’s my answer, too. I don’t have numbers but it’s a small town, and small towns typically send more of their young people to the military than cities. Call it patriotism or lack of opportunity where they are. And I suppose most return to their roots after their service...”

“How many are not native to the area?” she asked. “Susan said there were more than a few.”

“I’ve only been here a few days,” he said. “Susan can probably help you with that more than I can.”

He paused, then added, “Answered all your questions now?”

She knew he was trying to frustrate her into asking fewer questions. Wasn’t working. “I’m a reporter, so the answer is no. Not even close.”

“Can we at least have a reprieve?”

“Five minutes,” she offered.

“I can work with that,” he said drily.

She bit her tongue and examined the car. Obviously a rental. It was too clean inside to be otherwise. She wanted to ask why. In four more minutes.

Then she studied her surroundings. Since the north–south interstate ran through Pueblo, she’d driven through the city several times. It was an attractive city with numerous parks, but several miles outside the city limits, Travis turned onto a two-lane road that ran through ranch country.

“How far is Covenant Falls?” she asked although she already knew, having done extensive research. But it was a natural enough question and she wanted to keep him talking.

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and she suspected he knew what she was doing. “It’s only been two minutes,” he pointed out.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“About an hour and a half.”

“Are you staying at the Camel Trail Inn, too?”

He sighed and didn’t answer.

Now questions were busting out of her brain. She’d rarely met such an unhelpful male.

She knew she wasn’t pretty, with her untamable hair, a complexion that burned easily and a figure that was more stick than curvy, but she was usually interested in what guys were interested in, and easily became buddies with those she met. She was rarely in one place long enough to build a romantic relationship, though, and if one started budding, she ran as though the devil was after her. Marriage was her worst nightmare. She only knew of bad ones.

She looked at her watch. Five minutes were up.

“Where are you staying?” she asked. As far as she knew, the town had several bed and breakfasts, the inn and nothing else.

“A private cabin,” he said. “It belongs to a friend.”

“Was answering that hard?”

“I’m not particularly fond of reporters,” he said.

“Why?”

“The truth?”

“Always.”

“It’s not you, individually. It’s just that the vets here do not want publicity. One of the reasons they’ve stayed is because people here respect that. They’re no different than the pharmacist or woodworker or mechanic. They want Covenant Falls to grow because it’s a great place to live, not because they are some kind of oddity.”

“I can respect that,” she said.

“Can you? Aren’t you here for a story?”

“Won’t you need publicity if you go ahead with a therapy program?”

“No. We would work through military sources.”

“Is this why you came to pick me up? To diplomatically deliver a message?”

“I don’t think I was that diplomatic.”

She was silent for a moment. “What if I promise not to submit anything you or the other vets don’t approve?”

“I didn’t think reporters did that.”

“We usually don’t. Practically never, in fact,” she admitted. “But this subject is personally important to me. I want to do it. And I want to do it right.”

He took his eyes off the road and looked at her. She expected him to ask why. He didn’t. His gaze went back to the road.

She waited.

“No one can force you to leave,” he said.

“But I don’t want to run around chasing my tail either. I don’t break confidences or promises. If I did, no one would talk to me again.”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. She was beginning to think he wouldn’t. He’d obviously been sent to dissuade her. What he didn’t know was how badly she wanted to do the story. She’d been clutching the prospect like a lifeline.

Everything about it intrigued her: warriors ending up in a small town, healing, joining together to help others. It had everything...

But only if she could gain their trust. And the first gatekeeper to get by was the obviously wary man next to her.

CHAPTER FIVE

THEY WEREN’T MORE than a mile out of Pueblo when Travis realized he was in trouble.

He had been from the first moment he saw her.

He’d tried to avoid glancing at his passenger as he drove the nearly empty two-lane road from Pueblo to Covenant Falls, but his gaze kept wandering from the road to Jenny Talbot.

She was not at all what he’d expected when Josh asked him to pick her up. She looked younger than the black-and-white photo he’d found online. Plus, in the photo her hair had been pulled back and it looked dark. Now it was short and fiery.

Neither had the photo done justice to the green eyes that danced with warmth and curiosity. She was medium height but looked taller, maybe because her body was lean rather than curvy. She radiated energy.

When he agreed to meet her, he’d expected someone like his ex-fiancé—cool and poised.

Jennifer Talbot was definitely not that. She wore worn jeans, a T-shirt and a denim jacket that looked great on her lanky figure. She didn’t try to hide the freckles on her nose. Her mouth was too wide for beauty, and her jaw too stubborn, but when she smiled, it was as if the sun just came out.

But she did have something in common with Dinah. Persistence.

He recalled the first time he’d met Dinah. As a commander in the field, he’d had contact with reporters and perfected the art of saying little and doing it politely.

That talent had been noted, and while he was stationed in Georgia, between deployments, he was often asked to be a spokesman. He’d met Dinah at a news conference. She was beautiful, charming...and persistent.

The memory of their last meeting still stung. It had, no doubt, made him leery of other journalists. But there was something different about this one.

He’d immediately noticed the way she avoided using her right arm and liked the fact that she stated the injury from the start without elaboration or expecting anything because of it. He’d also found, and liked, several of her articles. They demonstrated that she had a real understanding of the places and people she was covering. He didn’t have much time to think about it, though. He was too busy fending off questions after his five-minute moratorium was over. She didn’t hesitate to bore in. She obviously wanted a story. But he sensed the interest went deeper. Although he was usually cautious of civilians, especially reporters, he was attracted to her positive vibes and low-key humor.

But he was also cautious. He didn’t know what his next steps would be after this short—and virtually nonpaying—job. He was in no position to get interested in a woman. Any woman. Particularly one who was obviously consumed by her own career. Been there, done that.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud ahem sound.

She started her questions again, and to his surprise, he enjoyed dueling with her. As the questions continued, the car seemed to heat despite the cool air floating from the air-conditioning. He hadn’t felt it in a long time but he knew it was trouble. Chemistry? Electricity sparking between them? Whatever it was, it scared the hell out of him.

He was pretty sure she felt it, too. A quick glance revealed rosier cheeks than when she’d stepped into the luggage area.

Caution flags started flying. He could probably ignore the physical attraction if he wasn’t equally fascinated by the way her mind worked. Something about her was compelling, and it prompted him to say more than he intended.

He also sensed she knew far more about Covenant Falls than he did. But then, a good reporter would do his or her research. The question was how much.

“Tell me about the veterans who are thinking about developing an equine therapy program.”

“I haven’t been here much longer than you have,” he countered. “It’s probably best if you meet them first.” He didn’t add that they all might go into hiding. Josh had not been enthusiastic about her interest.

“Okay, I’ve met you,” she countered. “I know you’re a Ranger. What’s next for you?”

“I have no idea,” he said honestly. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll keep finding stories.”

“You’re lucky, then. I’m trying to figure it out.” He had no idea why he blurted that out. She had a way of digging into a person without them being aware of how deep she was going.

“Where’s home for you?” she asked.

“The army and wherever they send me.”

“Then why are you here?” she persisted. “I take it the army didn’t send you.”

He shook his head. “Does anything come out of your mouth that’s not a question?”

“Not often,” she replied. “I’m curious. Always have been. I drive some people crazy.”

“Just some?”

“That’s not polite,” she said with a grin. “But probably true.” She hesitated for a moment. Then she continued, “I’m not just here for a story. I know the price you guys pay. I know you don’t like to talk about it. I don’t either. It’s important, though, that your stories be told.”

Her voice had suddenly become determined and serious—the playfulness was completely gone. He also heard pain in it. That intrigued him far more than it should.

“I’ve read some articles you wrote on Syria.” He didn’t add that he thought they were good. Better than good. He didn’t want to give her an opening until he talked to Josh and the others. He suspected Josh had wanted him to pick her up to get a read on her.

She didn’t ask what he thought about them. Instead, she went back to her obvious default position: questions. That second of vulnerability was gone.

“Tell me about the town,” she said. “How did it get so many incoming veterans? I understand what you said about small towns producing a lot of veterans but from what Ms. Hall told me you have a lot of new ones.”

“What else did Ms. Hall tell you?” he asked in return.

“Just that it was home to some veterans who are thinking about starting a Horses for Heroes program,” Jenny said. “The name, I learned, covers a number of equine therapy programs. I’d been reading about them and think it’s a great idea. I wanted to know more.”

“That’s all it is now,” Travis said. “Just an idea. Certainly not ready for publicity. There’s other programs that are already active and would make a good story.”

“But the fact that nearly the whole town might be involved is...intriguing.”

“Is that what Susan said?”

“Now who’s asking the questions?”

He smiled. “It’s a request for clarification,” he replied in a smug tone.

“Nifty answer,” she said. “But you’re deflecting. Are you connected with the ‘idea’ in some way? Or are you just visiting?”

It was unnerving at the way she cut through to the chase so easily. Travis didn’t like lying and so far he’d avoided actually doing so. He inwardly groaned. She would find out soon anyway.

“I’m doing some research,” he said.

“I’m very good at research,” she said with that infectious smile of hers. “It’s how I found Covenant Falls.”

He believed her. His silence was his answer.

She sighed. Tried again. “You’ve been here a few days. What do you think about Covenant Falls?”

He shrugged. “Haven’t been here long enough to think much of anything. It’s like any small town, I suppose, except it seems to have survived better than mine did.” The words escaped him before he could call them back.

“You’re from a small town?”

“I was,” he admitted.

“Bigger or smaller than Covenant Falls?”

Travis inwardly groaned. In trying to avoid one topic, he’d opened an old wound. But in this short time, he could already tell she would continue pressing him.

“Smaller.”

“Where?” She was like a bee buzzing inside his head, jabbing at memories he preferred to forget.

“Midwest.”

“What did you play? Baseball or football?”

“Baseball. How did you know?”

She shrugged. “There’s an athleticism in the way your body moves,” she said.

Not anymore.

“Yes, there is,” she said, apparently reading his mind. She changed the subject. “Susan said the town was full of veterans, even before Iraq and Afghanistan and Syria.”

He shrugged. “Like many small towns, there aren’t many job opportunities here. The military is an option.”

“But they come back. There couldn’t be many more options after they return?”

“Their roots are here,” he said. He’d brought up the subject three weeks ago on his first trip. “Some of them for generations. Friends and family are here. I think some people feel it even stronger after being away for years. They’ve learned skills in the army or saved up enough money to start a small business. They do all right.”

“What about your more recent military arrivals? The ones who aren’t natives of the area?”

“How recent do you mean?”

“Say, the last two years. Ms. Hall said there are several newcomers. They didn’t have generations of history here.”

“There’s no secret about it. Josh Manning was the first. He was also a Ranger. He was wounded in Afghanistan, was medically discharged and inherited a cabin here.”

“And then?”

“Josh married the mayor and became a businessman. He’s part owner of the inn where you’re staying and the cabin was passed on to another vet.”

“Who came next?”

“Susan Hall didn’t tell you all this?” In his mind, he was thinking that the innkeeper had said altogether too much.

“Nope.”

“And you didn’t ask?”

“She had a paying guest who interrupted us,” Jenny said with a grin. “Tell me about the others.”

He sighed and ran down the list of temporary guests at the cabin.

“And you’re using it now.”

“For a few weeks only.”

“But they were all coming temporarily. Right? What changed?”

The innkeeper again. “Why am I telling you everything you already know?” he asked.

“But I don’t. Just bits and pieces of a fascinating puzzle. Why did they all stay?”

He hesitated. Covenant Falls was a welcoming place, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to say that. In addition to protecting the privacy of the vets, he knew Josh didn’t want the town to turn into some weird fairy tale that attracted people for all the wrong reasons.

He’d been incredulous himself when he’d learned of the marriages and engagements of the recent vets in Covenant Falls. Clint, whom he’d met on the previous trip, had joked that there was something in the water.

They were nearing the outskirts of the town. Maybe a short detour would answer some questions, or deter them. He would take Josh’s suggestion and show her the waterfall. Maybe he could interest her in writing about the town and forget about the veterans. And maybe that was too many maybes.

“Want to see the falls of Covenant Falls?”

“The falls? That’s an affirmative. I’ve missed them where I’ve been.”

He circled the town and took the road to the falls. They passed the Rusty Nail, with its half-filled parking lot. “I haven’t been here yet,” he said, “but I’m told their burgers are good.”

She had stopped asking questions and looked around with interest. The road was steadily going upward now and the trees ahead were starting to change color. Patches of gold and red were highlighted by the sun. Travis followed a twisting, newly paved road up a sharp incline, and then he turned into a parking area.

He might have offered to open the door for her, but she was out the second the car came to a stop. They could hear the falls from where they were, but they could not see them. He led the way to a wooden fence and stood back as she looked down at the meandering river below.

“Nice,” she said.

He gave her a moment, and then he led the way around a stand of trees, and suddenly they faced the falls. Water tumbled over a high cliff to the rocks below. A rainbow arched above it. A cool breeze carried spray to where they stood, sprinkling them. A look of pure enchantment crossed her face, turning it from attractive into beautiful. He had the damnedest urge to take her in his arms and hold her against him.

If it had been just a physical reaction, he could step away. Her delight, though, made him smile inside—and he hadn’t done that in a long time. He started to reach for her, to touch her. Snap out of it. Keep it strictly business.

Travis stepped back. Away from temptation. It was the rainbow. Nothing else. When Josh brought him here on his first visit, Travis had been impressed, particularly with the rainbow that Josh said was almost always visible during the day. Hell, even to a has-been warrior like himself, it seemed to wave a banner of new chances, new opportunities.

“It’s beautiful,” Jenny said, licking at the moisture around her lips with her tongue. It was a natural enough reaction, but it was sensuous without intent, and that made the action even more sensuous. He was suddenly warmer. He wanted to put an arm around her and share that sense of awe.

Bad idea. He backed away. He sure as hell wasn’t ready for another relationship, even a short one, and suspected she wasn’t either. Just as important, he saw in her a free spirit. She’d been injured and was using this time to heal. He’d met many military correspondents during his years overseas, and most were as addicted to the adrenaline as the soldiers were.

She would be here briefly, and apparently it was his job to guide her away from the proposed horse therapy program. He sensed that it could be difficult to guide Jennifer Talbot away from anything that interested her.

Jenny turned to him and put her hand on his arm. “I’ve seen larger falls, far more powerful ones, but this is so...untouched. And the rainbow—is it always there?”

“Josh says it is, as long as the sun is shining.”

“I can’t believe I haven’t heard of it before,” she exclaimed. “It’s almost...mystic.”

Mystic? He didn’t believe in that stuff, and yet it’d helped change the lives of three hardened warriors and one war-experienced nurse...not to mention a Scotsman nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. At least that was what Josh contended.

“What can you tell me about it?” she asked. “Why isn’t it on a map? Isn’t it in the national forest?”

“Nope, that’s the odd part of it. You haven’t heard about it because the town wanted to keep it to themselves. The founder of Covenant Falls, who had substantial political pull at the time Colorado became a state, had the area incorporated into the city limits. The family had enough pull to keep it from being included in the national forest. At least, that’s the story. The city has never tried to keep outsiders out. It just never advertised the fact. That’s changing, according to Josh. The town needs revitalization. There’s not many jobs for young people, and the population is aging.”

“I can understand why they might want to keep it private,” she said. “It’s so peaceful here. I feel I could reach out and touch the end of the rainbow.”

“I thought you were an action junkie.”

“Is that your impression?” she said. “I do like to be where things are happening. I also like full moons, soft misty days, ocean sunsets and especially rainbows. Quiet things. They center me. Especially after being in a war-torn area.”

“How long have you been back in the States?”

“Four months, nearly five.”

“Planning to go back to Syria?” he asked.

“If I can. My shoulder was damaged by a piece of shrapnel during a ‘truce’ there. The shoulder joint was injured, and the rotator cuff torn. My shoulder is getting stronger, but then I make a move and wow, it feels like someone is tearing it off. I’m working up to driving again.”

He liked the way she replied frankly. No drama. Just how it was.

“But I do want to go back,” she repeated. “Someone needs to tell the story there. The civilian population is being slaughtered. I was accompanying a medical group during a promised cease-fire. They—we—were bombed. I keep reliving it.”