He’s looking for roots. She won’t be tied down.

Army ranger Travis Hammond needs to heal physical and emotional wounds. A job in Covenant Falls checking out equine therapy programs for veterans is a start, but it’s only temporary. And he doesn’t need a partner, especially some reporter with the persistence of a terrier and irresistible green eyes. Like Travis, Jenny Talbot’s just passing through town. Unlike Travis, Jenny knows exactly where she’s going next—back to the Middle East, as soon as she recovers from her own war injury. But there’s a bend in the road for both of them.

USA TODAY bestselling author PATRICIA POTTER has been telling stories since the second grade when she wrote a short story about wild horses, although she knew nothing at all about them. She has since received numerous writing awards, including RT Book Reviews’ Storyteller of the Year, its Career Achievement Award for Western Historical Romance and Best Hero of the Year. She is a seven-time RITA® Award finalist for RWA and a three-time Maggie Award winner, as well as a past president of Romance Writers of America. Character motivation is what intrigues her most in creating a book, and she sits back and allows those characters to write their own stories.

Also By Patricia Potter

Home to Covenant Falls

The Soldier’s Promise

Tempted by the Soldier

A Soldier’s Journey

The SEAL’s Return

The Lawman

Swampfire

Between the Thunder

Samara

Seize the Fire

Chase the Thunder

Dragonfire

The Silver Link

The Abduction

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Soldier’s Homecoming

Patricia Potter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08291-4

THE SOLDIER’S HOMECOMING

© 2018 Patricia Potter

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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He clutched the towel closer to his body. “I have to put some clothes on.”

“You’re fine, but if you would be more comfortable...” Mischief danced in her eyes.

He’d thought no woman could stomach what had happened to his body, the scars left by remnants of a rocket. But then Jenny had experienced combat herself even if she’d been an observer rather than participant. Maybe the wound made her a participant.

Still, he couldn’t believe that any woman would actually be comfortable with the scars.

As if reading his thoughts, Jenny touched his chest and ran a finger down it, arousing all sorts of reactions. “You have great muscles and all the important stuff,” she said as she continued to study him. “I like your face a lot, too,” she added with a grin.

Damn, but she knew how to get inside his head. “Are you finished with your survey?”

“I’m getting there,” she said. “I have a few scars of my own, you know.”

Dear Reader,

I usually start a book by living with the hero and heroine for a month or more before starting a manuscript. After that, the story is up to them, and it rarely turns out the way I first envisioned. Any resemblance to the original idea is purely coincidental.

So it was with this book. The characters just didn’t want to do what I originally thought they would do. Travis, a Special Forces major, objected to being wounded in spirit as well as body. Jenny, a war correspondent who was wounded while covering a story, turned out to be equally stubborn. I never knew what she was going to do or say next.

The book has a special place in my heart. In the past, I’ve tried not to put myself in a book, but I failed this time. Jenny has a lot of me in her. She is a reporter (which was my original career), and I know the type well. Unbridled curiosity is the reporter’s—and writer’s—most valuable asset. Jenny takes this quality to the extreme. She wants to know everything about everyone, which can be quite annoying. And then the story she’s chasing is always more important than anything else, including relationships.

In The Soldier’s Homecoming, I turned her loose on an unsuspecting cast of characters and watched her change others as well as herself. I hope you like her as much as I enjoyed bringing her to life.

And this time I’m also sharing my newly adopted elderly citizen rescue dog, Anna, with you. Like Anna in the book, it was love at first sight.

Patricia Potter

This book is dedicated to the men and women who better the lives of veterans through many Horses for Heroes programs throughout the country.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

Aleppo, Syria

JENNY TALBOT KNEW she was in trouble the moment she heard the sound of approaching aircraft.

The sound grew thunderous as four planes appeared in the sky over Aleppo, leaving a trail of explosions in their wake. They were heading straight at her.

A cease-fire was supposed to have been declared while volunteer medical personnel tended the wounded in one of the few remaining makeshift hospitals in the doomed Syrian city.

The volunteer doctors and nurses, who had just arrived in a marked medical convoy, scattered, seeking cover. She and Rick Cowan, also a freelance journalist, were accompanying them. Although they worked for different news services, they had been together when they heard about the medical mission to Aleppo. It hadn’t been easy to get permission from the supporting agency, but the promise of alerting the world to conditions in a city caught in the cross fire of three ruthless armies finally won them approval. It was emphasized that it was at their own risk.

So much for cease-fires.

As explosions grew louder, Jenny and Rick ran for cover with Ali, their driver and translator. All three ducked behind a pile of rubble that had once been a house.

Jenny instinctively grabbed the camera that hung around her neck and under the hijab she wore to cover her flaming red hair. Out of habit, she took several rapid shots of people fleeing among burning buildings and vehicles. She wanted proof of the violation of the cease fire.

Ali turned to them. “I go get jeep,” he shouted over the noise, then sprinted around the rubble. Jenny regretted now that he’d hid the jeep several blocks down to avoid thieves.

A little girl suddenly ran into the road, screaming as another explosion threw rocks and flaming shrapnel in every direction. The girl fell, her arms reaching out as if for help. Jenny saw bright red blood flow from the child’s leg.

A doctor turned back toward her but he was too far away. Jenny instinctively rose from her position and started to climb over the rubble to go after the child. Rick pulled her down. “Stay here, dammit,” he said. “I’ll go.”

As he started to scramble over the rubble, she followed. Another group of planes roared over them, raining more fire on the street. Explosions deafened her. Chunks of flaming metal flew through the air. Two cars and an ambulance used by the doctors burst into flames. She struggled to the top of the debris. Dust and smoke was everywhere. She couldn’t see the child.

“We’ve got to find her,” she said to Rick. A trailing plane came in low and dropped its munitions. The building across the street sustained a direct hit and started to crumple.

“I have to find the girl,” she shouted to Rick.

“You’ll be killed out there,” Rick shouted and pushed her down. “Nothing can survive out there right now. They’re pounding that street.”

She huddled against the rubble as heat seared her, gluing her tan T-shirt to her body. She wore a flak vest over the T-shirt and BDU pants, which she had selected for the additional pockets. The pockets were filled with everything she needed to do her job, from cell phone, notebooks and pens to a small recorder.

“The hospital?” she asked Rick, just as another explosion tore up the wreckage, only a few yards from them. The heat burned her arm, and the impact threw her back against a pile of debris. Her shoulder felt on fire, the skin burning. She looked down at her shoulder to see metal protruding from a jagged wound. She stared at it for a moment, and then the pain hit.

Rick uttered a curse as he scooted over to her to study the wound. “I’m afraid if I remove it, you’ll bleed out,” he said. “I’ll try to get one of the doctors. Ali should be back here with the jeep.”

He bolted over what was now a wall of broken cement, and she clenched her teeth to stop from moving, from crying out. The pain grew worse. She could smell her own burned skin.

She couldn’t tell how large the piece of shrapnel was inside, but she knew that the medical people, if they were still alive, were going to be busy with wounds worse than this.

She also knew they couldn’t stay here. Syrian troops or ISIS fighters often followed the planes, killing those the planes missed.

She didn’t know how long Rick was gone. It seemed like hours before he appeared over the wall. “They can’t come,” he said. “Three of them are wounded, and the others are busy trying to keep all the civilians alive. They’re afraid soldiers will follow the bombs.”

“The little girl?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see her on the street and it was too crowded in the hospital. Right now, we have to get you out of here.”

He didn’t have to explain more. She knew what might await her as an American woman.

“They gave me some pills, burn salve and pressure bandages,” he said. “I was told to get you to a refugee camp as fast as possible. I found Ali. He and the jeep are pretty close.” He hesitated, and then he added, “I have to pull that piece of metal out. The jolting in the jeep could do even more damage.”

Jenny understood. She’d been under fire before. She knew the risks.

“Do you think you can walk if I help? I can take out that shrapnel when we get to the jeep.”

She nodded. She had to. There was no way Rick could carry her any distance. He didn’t weigh much more than she did.

He handed her a canteen and several pills. Painkillers and antibiotics, she assumed. After she swallowed them, he helped her to her feet. She barely made it. The rocks and ruined buildings were going in and out of focus. One step, and then another. You have to do this.

No one paid attention to them as they stumbled through debris toward the jeep. It took every ounce of Jenny’s strength to put one foot ahead of the other as pain coursed through her, growing stronger by the minute. Only Rick’s steady arm kept her upright.

She was beyond grateful when she saw Ali and the jeep. But she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. It was all she could do to stay upright. A few more steps. Gunshots. Behind them.

Everything dimmed...

CHAPTER ONE

Walter Reed Hospital Rehabilitation Unit

LIFE WILL NEVER be the same.

Major Travis Hammond leaned on his crutches and watched a young corporal take halting steps on a new prosthesis that substituted for a right leg. Danny Ware’s face was contorted with determination as he tried to walk without hanging onto the bars.

In the months they’d shared these rehab facilities, along with other wounded soldiers, Travis had grown fond of Danny. Maybe because of the kid’s unfailing optimism despite getting a really bad deal. He reminded Travis of his brother.

Danny was a foster kid, and the army had been one of the few options he’d had after finishing high school. But now that option was gone. Danny hadn’t been able to save much money on an enlisted man’s pay, and Travis knew it would take months before his disability pay arrived. Travis had seen the fear and uncertainty when the kid thought no one was watching, but a “what the hell” grin would usually spread across his face if he caught eyes on him.

The military rehab facility was, as usual, full, with both new patients and those returning for additional surgeries. It had become a second home to Travis after two years and multiple surgeries. But now there were only a few days left before he was released.

He would miss the other soldiers. They shared the pain. And the fear, though it was unspoken. Always unspoken. The future, which had been so clear before, was now a fog. He felt lost, and he knew that others felt the same uncertainty.

For most of them, life as they knew it would never be the same. There were the nightmares. The survivor’s guilt. The loss of a tight-knit family. Those were things that could never be understood by someone who hadn’t experienced them.

He turned his attention back to Danny Ware. He’d admired the kid’s grit as he had strengthened his arms and walked on one leg and crutches, while a prosthesis was still being constructed. Now it had finally arrived, and Danny was taking his first awkward steps.

It was difficult to cheer anything at the moment, but the grin on the younger man’s face as, on his third attempt, he took twenty steps without touching the bars, helped him forget his own problems. If Danny could conquer his demons, then certainly Travis could, as well. Or should.

The simple fact was inertia had overtaken him. Having undergone five operations—three on his right leg and foot and two on his hand—he was left with a leg that would never work right and a hand missing two fingers, not to mention numerous scars across his body. It meant the end of his career as an active member in the Special Forces. Desk job? Possibly. But it wasn’t a sure thing, and it was not particularly appealing.

And his love life. Nonexistent since his fiancé had taken one look at him and blanched. It hadn’t helped that she was a television reporter in Georgia, and he was in Washington. Dinah had tried, but her visits to the military hospital grew less frequent over time, and he understood that he was no longer what she wanted as a husband. He was the one who ended the engagement. Her protest was feeble at best, and he knew he’d made the right decision...

Still, it had hurt. But he couldn’t blame her. He turned his attention back to Danny, who made a victory sign with his fingers. Then the kid started to fall.

The physical therapist caught him and eased him into a wheelchair. Tears of frustration leaked from his eyes.

Travis knew that frustration. He’d never again be the athlete he once was, but at least he had resources. Danny didn’t. He ached for the boy.

“I want to try again,” Danny said.

“Not today,” Kate, the physical therapist, said. “You did great, but you don’t want to overdo it.”

She confirmed the next appointment, and then she turned to Travis. “Ready, Major Hammond?”

He hesitated, and then he limped over to Danny. “You did damn good,” he said.

“Thanks, Major,” Danny said, his face brightening.

Travis wanted to continue, but anything more might be construed as pity. He turned to the therapist. “Only a few sessions to go,” he responded. After the last of his surgeries, he’d finally succeeded in wiggling his toes on his right foot. He’d never thought wiggling a toe could be a major achievement.

After the last operation, his surgeon urged him to do just that with toes peeking out from a cast. Some patients were never able to move their foot, he explained. Travis had spent days and nights staring at his damn toes, willing them to move. It was momentous when they did. It meant he wouldn’t have to walk with a brace.

“I’m hurt when my patients are so anxious to leave me,” Kate said with a grin.

“I doubt that,” he said. “We’re a motley lot.”

The smile widened. “I will miss you—and Danny, too.” Kate replied. “You’ve been good for him. He really looks up to you.”

“I like him,” he said simply.

“Well, today is your big day,” she said. “We walk without the brace.” It was always we, not you. He was amazed at her ability to remain cheerful. She had coaxed, badgered and cajoled him when he got frustrated. She had celebrated with him at hearing about the great toe awakening. She was his tormentor and savior.

She helped him take off the brace and watched him as he stood.

“You don’t want to put too much weight on it yet,” she said, studying him as he took several steps.

“You’ve practiced,” she accused him.

“How can you tell?” For the past several nights, he had taken off the brace and walked with the crutches only.

“Too much confidence. What if you’d fallen and twisted it?”

“I didn’t.”

Kate just shook her head. “Okay, cowboy. Let’s see you climb the stairs.”

As the doctor warned, his foot had limited up-and-down movement, but it was still part of his body, and for that he was thankful. The stairs were just six steps up, with railings on both sides and a platform at the top. He walked haltingly to the bottom. Then she took the crutches, and he grabbed the railings.

“Good,” she said. “The main thing now is not to get overconfident and overdo it. Until you get used to how much movement you have in that ankle and foot, you could trip.”

They spent the rest of the hour on exercises, first for his leg and then for his hand. When they finished, he wanted to throw away the brace for good.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Major. Keep your walks short for now. Use the crutches until you feel comfortable.” Kate reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out an envelope. “I was asked to give this to you,” she said.

He took it gingerly and opened it. There was one sheet of paper enclosed, and it contained only a name and phone number.

The name stopped him. Memories flooded back. He looked up. “Where did this come from?”

“My boss gave it to me. He said it came from a psychologist at Fort Hood. An admirer, perhaps?” Kate, a lean, attractive woman in her forties, grinned at him. It was no come-on. She openly talked of her husband in a way that left no doubt she was madly in love with him.

“Doubt that, since he was my best staff sergeant.”

“Well, it must be important to come down this way.” She left him before he could ask more questions.

Josh Manning.

It had been nearly two years since Travis heard that name. Josh Manning was the best staff sergeant he’d ever had. Ironically, he was wounded one month before Travis. Manning’s injuries, in fact, were the reason Travis had been in Afghanistan to check on the Rangers who were training and working with their Afghanistan counterparts.

He punched in the number.

“Manning,” the former staff sergeant said in his usual no-nonsense manner.

“How did you find me?” Travis asked without a greeting.

“I didn’t. A psychologist at Fort Hood did. I’d heard you’d been wounded and asked him for help. It’s hell trying to get information from the army. He asked his colleagues at other hospitals. I learned you’re about to be released.”

Why in the hell would Josh Manning track him down? No one else had. “Still cutting corners, Sergeant?” he asked.

“I had a good instructor,” Josh retorted.

Travis got down to business. “If you went to all that trouble, I assume you had a reason.”

He heard Manning chuckle. It surprised him. He couldn’t remember the man even smiling much before. But then Manning surprised him even more with his next words. “Are you staying in the service? If not, I need you.”

I need you. Hell, it was the first time in nearly two years he’d heard those words. It was especially surprising from Manning, who’d never admitted to needing anything, except maybe better equipment.

“Not sure,” Travis replied. “I have three months’ medical leave coming. There could be a staff job available but...”

His voice trailed off.

“Maybe my offer will help,” Manning said.

Travis couldn’t imagine how, but he’d never known Manning to waste time or words. Manning had been the most competent noncom who’d served under him.

They had become friends during the ten years they had worked together, both moving up the military ladder. When they first met, Sergeant Manning was a squad leader, and Travis was a lieutenant. Travis made sure Manning stayed with him. He’d been his go-to guy in the most difficult and dangerous missions. He not only thought strategically, but his fellow soldiers would follow him to hell and back.

Travis realized he’d been silent for more than a few seconds. “How?” he asked dubiously.

“I remember you telling me you were a college athlete and studied sports management in Indiana. That included business, didn’t it?”

“Some,” Travis admitted.

“A friend of mine, a former navy SEAL—yeah, I know, strange friend for a Ranger—just bought a small ranch where I live. He’s thinking about starting a horse therapy program for vets. He’s knee deep in getting it started and needs help with the business aspects, particularly possible grants, regulations, staffing...”

“Why me?”

“Because I know how you cared about your men. The job needs someone who would be committed as well as having some knowledge of athletics and business.”

It definitely sounded interesting, particularly Manning’s participation, but he wasn’t qualified. “I don’t get it,” he said. “I don’t know anything about grants.”

“But you know about physical therapy and organization. I also remember how you used to work the system to get what you needed. You never took no for an answer. That’s what we need now.”

“We?”

“It’s kinda a joint effort. You have to see it for yourself to believe it,” Manning said. “It would just be temporary, and we can’t afford to pay much.”

“In other words, you want someone cheap.”

“More like free, except for the use of a really nice cabin, as long as you stay.”

“You really know how to sell a job,” Travis replied. Could it be that Manning had somehow discovered that Travis had no family, no plans?

Being a desk jockey held little appeal for him. “Where?” he asked.

“A little town in Colorado. It’s...unusual.”

“You living there now?”

“About eighteen months. After I recovered, I found Amos. He’s with me now.”

“That’s great.” Travis remembered the military dog, how the animal mourned when his handler, Manning’s best friend, died. The dog was eventually sent back stateside.

“Call it a working vacation,” Josh said. “I have a cabin that will be all yours. It’s on a lake, next to a mountain. The town is vet-friendly.”

“How long?”

“A few months. We have volunteers, enthusiasm, horses. Just no expertise.”

Travis looked around the room. Danny was still here, supporting the others.

“You said there’s a ranch?”

“Yeah.”

“Any jobs available there for a young amputee?”

“We could find something. You have a prospect?”

“A corporal. Lost his right leg. He’s a foster kid. No family. No place to go. But he’s a damn hard worker and has encouraged everyone around here.”

“Sounds like someone we can use,” Manning said. “We’ll figure something out.”

“You sound...” Travis couldn’t find the right word.

“Content? I am. I have a wife, a kid, five or six dogs—it changes by the day—two horses and a crazy cat. I’m even an innkeeper,” Manning said with a humor that was definitely new.

“This I have to see,” Travis replied, signaling his acceptance. They discussed the logistics for a moment more, and then he hung up.

Stunned, Travis stood there for a moment. His thoughts raced ahead as he looked at too many warriors struggling to get their lives back.

For the first time in two years, he felt a sense of excitement. He had a challenge, another battle, even if the campaign might be brief. He’d seen so many fellow patients sink into hopelessness. He’d felt it himself. Maybe, just maybe, he could do something worthwhile, both for himself and others fighting for a new life.

He whistled as he limped down the hall. It was the first time he had whistled since his injury.

CHAPTER TWO

Denver

A LITTLE GIRL RUNNING. Blood everywhere. Spreading like a river. Edging nearer and nearer...

Panicked, Jenny woke, soaked in her own sweat. The jerk of her body as she woke renewed intense pain in her shoulder. Disoriented, she looked around, trying to control the trembling. The night-light, now necessary for sleep, was just strong enough to reveal the shadowed bedroom, rather than the rubble of a once prosperous city.

Had she screamed again? God, she hoped not.

Her brief prayer was not answered. She heard a tentative knock on the door, and her mother inched the door open and entered the room. Her hair was in rare disarray, her robe partly open, her face slathered with some kind of cream.

“Jennifer?” Her mother’s voice was loud, and Jenny smelled alcohol on her breath as she leaned over. “Another nightmare?”

Jenny struggled to sit upright. Even after four months, the pain in her shoulder could stop her cold.

“It’s okay, Mother. It’s gone.”

She’d never told her mother the truth of the nightmares, that they always revolved around the child standing bewildered in a blood-soaked street. Had the little girl survived? The question wouldn’t leave her. “I’m okay now. Really. Just a bad dream. Remember, I used to have them as a child.” Jenny looked at the clock. A little after 4:00 a.m. “You go back to bed. I know you have that luncheon today. I’ll read for a while, then go back to sleep.”

“If you’re sure...”

“I am. It’s gone now.”

“Maybe a sleeping pill...”

“Maybe,” she said, although she had no plans of taking one. She had watched others in pain become reliant on pills. That would not happen to her. She knew her recuperating time would be long and painful. It was too easy to become addicted to pain meds.

“I’ll get you a glass of water, okay?” her mother persisted.

Jenny nodded. She could do that on her own, but the small chore would satisfy her mother.

After her mother brought the water, Jenny went to her bathroom and took a hot, and then cold, shower to shake off the nightmare.

She knew she couldn’t go back to sleep. Not yet. The horror of those moments was still too real. She went to the corner of her room, where she kept the physical therapy equipment. She selected a rod, turned on the portable TV to an all-news station and sat down in front of it. Her injury didn’t seem to hurt so much when she was occupied with news.

She started moving the rod from side to side as she watched. An upset election in Europe, Congress fighting again, riots in a Middle Eastern country. She ached to be in the middle of it. She didn’t belong in a luxurious bedroom, in a gated community.

She held the rod across her body like a vaudevillian dancing with a cane. She moved it to the left and then to the right. It was one of the excruciatingly painful exercises to expand the mobility of her right shoulder. She smothered a cry as she impatiently shoved the rod too far.

The news turned back again to the Middle East, reporting on the refugees fleeing from wars in Iraq and Syria. She wanted to cry. Scream. Do something. She kept seeing that bombing and the children and adults running for cover where there was none. Did the volunteer medical workers make it to safety? If so, what about the next day? And the one after that?

The scenes haunted her.

Yet despite her injury, she wanted to go back. She needed to record what was happening. She wanted the world to know. To care, dammit.

She didn’t know now whether she could ever return, with her shattered rotator cuff and damaged tendons and muscles. The wrong movement sent rivers of pain through her. She also experienced flashbacks and nightmares. Though less frequent now, she couldn’t take the chance of endangering others during one of her episodes.

Where was Rick now? She hadn’t heard from him in a month. He had stayed with her that day and somehow managed to get her across the border to a hospital. He’d called from a cell phone, somewhere in the field, three weeks later. She’d been barely coherent after her surgery, but she told him she would be back.

She missed him. He was fearless and always had a joke on his lips. He was probably the only person who’d ever understood her need to write stories that needed to be told. That was her source of adrenaline, just as photography was his...

Stop thinking about the past.

She dropped the rod and went to the window. She stared out at the manicured lawn and towering trees in the backyard. The vivid reds and oranges stood in stark contrast to the colorless rocks and sand of much of the Middle East. So why couldn’t she appreciate it? The house and grounds felt like a prison.

It had been nearly four months since that bloody afternoon in Syria. She was lucky not to have bled to death. The red-hot metal had cauterized the wound, and Rick had cradled her body to keep the metal from moving until they found a doctor among the refugees. She’d been patched up enough to get to Turkey, where she received further medical treatment, and was sent home to Colorado.

Following two operations on her shoulder, she’d needed weeks of intense therapy. Her mother begged her to move into the family home, which was close to the rehab center.

She’d resisted at first. With the exception of several brief visits with her mother, she’d not been home since college. She’d been overseas for the last eight years, five of them in the Middle East. Moving back at thirty-two was humiliating.

But staying there for a few weeks was the logical decision. She couldn’t even dress herself without going into elaborate contortions.

Recuperating in a happy home would have been difficult enough, but this house was not happy. Her father was rarely there, and when he was, he usually went straight to his study. Her mother drank too much wine when she wasn’t at charity functions, and probably when she was, too. Her smile was a little too bright. Jenny’s journalistic eye saw the pain she tried to hide.

On the rare weekends her father returned from San Francisco, where his company kept an apartment for him, he couldn’t stop reminding her that he had warned her not to go. The Middle East was no place for a woman. Why couldn’t she be like her two sisters?

According to her father, journalism was no profession for his daughter. No opportunity to marry an up-and-coming husband, as her sisters had, and have children.

But then Jenny knew she’d always been a disappointment to him.

From the time she was old enough to walk, she’d run after fire engines or any other kind of excitement. At ten, she’d saved her allowance to buy a battered set of encyclopedias at a used book sale, and by twelve she’d read through them, along with finishing the reading list for the fifth, sixth and seventh grades. In lieu of dancing lessons, she headed for the library. The librarian was her best friend.

Her parents hadn’t been concerned when she announced at age eleven that she wanted to wander the world, rather than get married, assuming her declaration was just a child’s wild fancy. They became more concerned when, at sixteen, she announced she was going to be a journalist and, at seventeen, attended a lecture by a renowned journalist at the University of Colorado, instead of going to the junior prom.

More than anything else, she’d wanted to be on her own, free to fly like a bird...

And she had.

Would she ever fly again?

* * *

THREE MORNINGS LATER, Jenny woke to pounding at the door. Her brain was foggy. Daylight poured through the window. She glanced at the clock and jerked upright. It was ten in the morning, but then she hadn’t gone to sleep until 4:00 a.m. She’d been caught up in an idea for a story.

More impatient knocking, and then the door burst open. Her sister Lenore walked in.

Jenny stared at her. “I thought you were in San Francisco.”

“Charlie and I flew in this morning,” she said.

“Charlie?”

“Charlotte, your niece. She announced last year she wants to be called Charlie.”

“How did our parents take the announcement?”

“They ignored Charlie’s edict, of course, and warned me that she might, of all horrors, take after you.”

Jenny chuckled. This was a different side of Lenore. But then, except for a brief visit at the hospital a few months ago, she hadn’t seen her sister in more than five years. “Mother didn’t say you were coming,” she said.

“She didn’t know,” Lenore said. “Charlie’s downstairs with her now.” She scrutinized Jenny. “You look a lot better than you did a few months ago. But you really have to do something with that hair.”

“Gee, thanks. I missed you, too,” Jenny replied. Her hair probably was a mess after sleeping on it. It was uncontrollably curly and a real pain to brush with her left hand.

“You never did like lies. Even little ones,” Lenore said as she eyed Jenny critically. “You know, your hair would look really cute if you cut it shorter.”

“I would look like Little Orphan Annie,” Jenny retorted, not admitting that she needed a new hairstyle, one that she could manage with her injury.

Lenore laughed, but it sounded hollow. “No, you wouldn’t. It would look great on you. I couldn’t get away with it, but you could.” She paused, and then she added awkwardly, “How are you feeling? Really?”

“Good,” Jenny lied. “I’m hoping to leave soon. I want to get back to work.”

“Is your shoulder healed enough?”

“I can manage most activities now. The problem is driving. A sudden movement can nearly paralyze my arm, but I’m working on it.”

“You’re not planning to go back to the Middle East?”

“I’m not that delusional,” Jenny said. “But I haven’t completely been idle. Thanks to the internet, I’ve been researching some stories I can do here in the States.”

“Anything in particular?”

She nodded. “Horse therapy.”

“Horse therapy?” Lenore echoed. “Therapy for horses?”

“No,” Jenny said patiently, unsure whether her sister was kidding. “Equine therapy for veterans. I was looking at various therapy programs and found a number that involved horses. I knew there were equine programs for kids with autism and disabilities. I didn’t know how many are available for veterans. It could make a great story.”

Lenore studied her for a moment. “Does this interest have anything to do with your nightmares?”

“Mom told you?” Jenny asked.

“She’s worried about you.”

“I’m worried about her, or I would have left by now,” Jenny said. “She’s drinking too much. I suppose you know our father rarely comes home these days. He’s living full time in San Francisco.”

“I might be able to help you there. Charlie and I are moving back to Denver. Doug and I are getting a divorce.” It was said in a monotone voice, but Jenny saw the pain in her eyes.

“A divorce?” Jenny couldn’t hold back her surprise. “I thought you and Doug were the perfect couple. What happened?”

Lenore shrugged. “The old, old story. He found someone younger. And thinner. A friend told me he was cheating. I didn’t believe it at first, but I hired a private investigator. He produced a lot of photos. Doug didn’t even try to deny it. I think he was actually relieved. He just didn’t have the guts to ask for a divorce, and he didn’t want to share any money. The photos, though, bought me a nice settlement.”

“I’m sorry, Lenore. I really am.” Jenny didn’t add that she thought Lenore was better off without Doug. She’d never liked him. He was an executive in their father’s company. Too good-looking. Too oblivious to other people, unless they could do something for him. Too much like her father.

“The settlement will give me enough to buy a condo,” Lenore said, “and Charlie and I are moving here to be close to Mother. I’ll have to go to work.” She hesitated. “I got a real estate license in California and made some sales. I was pretty good at it. More important, it’s the kind of job where you control your own hours. I can be there for Charlie and for Mother.”

Jenny nodded. Her sister would be good at real estate. She was attractive and smart. She’d studied business in school until she met Doug and married him before finishing her degree.

“What does Father think about that?”

Lenore shrugged. “He disapproved, of course, but all he really cares about is the company.”

“I wish Mother would leave him.”

“She’s afraid of being alone. He’s convinced her that a woman is worthless without a husband.” Lenore grinned suddenly and added, “That’s why he was always on your case. You disproved the theory. Unfortunately, I was a slow learner.”

“But now I support myself and I’ve got to get back to work, starting with the equine therapy programs. I’m only too familiar with the military and the burdens they carry when they leave. I really want to tell that story.”

“Well, you’ll have a place to hang your hat if you need one,” Lenore said. “You can move in with us. Charlie would love to spend time with you. She reminds me a lot of you when you were a kid, although she’s more withdrawn. She’s curious and reads all the time. She’s read everything she could find about you and written by you on the internet.” Lenore paused, and then said sadly, “Spending time with you would take some of the sting away from the move. Sometimes, no matter how rotten the father, the daughter forgives him.”

Jenny wondered if Lenore was talking about herself, as well as her daughter. It warmed her heart that Charlotte—Charlie—was interested in what she did. Jenny hadn’t seen much of her niece, but she remembered a pretty blonde girl who looked at her shyly and was very polite.

“She’s hurting,” Lenore continued. “But I don’t want her around our father or my ex-husband. I remember how Father tried to make you into something you weren’t. So did I, and I regret all those lessons I forced on you about makeup and dressing to attract the opposite sex. And some of the comments I made about you being a nerd.”

“I was,” Jenny said with a grin. “I still am.”

“I don’t think so,” Lenore said. “I’ve kept up with you. You have a powerful voice. I’m really proud of you.”

Jenny didn’t know what to say. She finally found her voice. “What about Mom.”

“The condo I’m buying is just a few blocks away. We can see her often and avoid the house when Father’s around. In the meantime I’m going to try to convince Mother to ask Father for a divorce, or at least leave him and move in with us. She’s so unhappy although she doesn’t want to admit it.”

“How’s our sister, Stacy? I haven’t seen her since I went overseas?”

Lenore just shrugged. “She says everything is fine. Stacy started a home decoration business which is why she couldn’t get away to see you. Mac supports her and the kids are doing well.” She hesitated, then added, “I don’t want to push you, but I’d really love for you to move in with us after closing on the condo. You wouldn’t have to worry about looking after Charlie. At ten, almost eleven, she’s quite responsible.”

Touched by the unexpected offer, Jenny nodded. “Thanks. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next but it might well be a godsend.” She changed the subject. “Have you mentioned your move here to Mother and Father?”

“I told Father before coming here. My ex didn’t have the guts to tell him about the divorce so I gave him the unhappy news. He disapproved. Of the divorce of course, not the behavior that prompted it. I’m telling Mother tonight.”

“She’ll be happy to have you here and disappointed by the divorce,” Jenny predicted. Like Father, their mother would rather be miserable—which she was—than admit a failed marriage.

“I’ll stay out of the way unless you need support. How does Stacy feel about it?”

“Stacy echoes Father. As always. It’s my fault and I wasn’t a good enough wife.” She paused, then added, “It’s ridiculous to still feel like a child asking permission to go to a movie.”

“Well, I certainly never expected to be here when I hit thirty-two,” Jenny said.

“Just think about moving in with us,” Lenore pled and left the room.

Perhaps now was the time to explore some possibilities. If she moved in with Lenore, their mother would still have them both nearby for company. It was time to start thinking about subjects she could sell to various publications. In addition to the horse therapy idea, another came to mind: rehab and family challenges. For the first time since the injury, she felt excited. Stimulated. It wouldn’t be what she had been doing, but it would be writing. Travel pieces, human interest stuff. A lot of papers used stringers or freelancers. She knew how to find stories, to look under a headline and find something no one else had.

Her thoughts turned back to Lenore. Maybe the move would be good for both of them. Maybe she would get to know her sister and niece better in the bargain.

CHAPTER THREE

TWO WEEKS AFTER his last rehab appointment, Travis limped through the Denver airport, using a cane, but no brace or crutches.

He hated the looks tossed his way. Pity. Curiosity.

The cane wasn’t necessary for short walks, but on the longer ones, he sometimes needed assistance.

There was one advantage, though. The agent at the check-in desk in Dulles International Airport took one glance at his military identification and then his cane, and upgraded him to first class. He’d dreaded the long flight from Washington to Denver with his bad leg scrunched up.

He didn’t have any baggage other than his carry-on with an extra pair of jeans, shirt, skivvies and a toilet kit. He didn’t think he’d stay more than two or three days. He just wanted to meet the participants, listen to their plans and then make up his mind as to whether he wanted to return for a longer stay.

In the meantime, he’d looked up other vet programs around the country. They’d ranged from small mom-and-pop programs with weekend stays for the veteran and family to months-long stints aimed at teaching skills that could turn into civilian jobs.

He hadn’t mentioned anything to Danny, who had not yet been released from the hospital. He didn’t want to get the kid’s hopes up. Except he knew Josh Manning well. Manning wouldn’t have contacted him, certainly wouldn’t have paid for his airfare, if he was not deadly serious.

Once aboard the plane, Travis gratefully slid into the window seat and placed his cane underneath. He leaned back and sighed in relief as he stretched his legs out in front of him. The right one ached from the long walk. It was galling to remember the ease with which he used to make a ten-mile trek.

The spacious room meant he could sleep. He had taken a cab to the airport at 5:00 a.m. for the 8:00 a.m. flight and then the flight was delayed.

Once in the air, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He wanted to be fully awake when he arrived. He’d looked up Covenant Falls on the internet and knew it was located on the plateau, in the shadow of the San Juan Mountains. Manning said he would pick him up at the Denver airport and drive him to Covenant Falls.

Not for the first time, he doubted the wisdom of the trip. Was it simply a do-good ploy on his ex-sergeant’s part? And what qualifications did Travis really have aside from a seventeen-year-old college degree? His confidence had melted away over the past two years. Still, the invitation got him out of his nondescript furnished apartment, and he looked forward to seeing Manning. Most important: this program might give him a real goal.

He still hung onto a thread of hope that maybe his career wasn’t over. Maybe—just maybe—a desk job could lead back to the battlefield. He didn’t like war, but he respected the men under his command, and he felt he should be out there with them. A loss of one was like a loss in his own family. Hell, they were his family.

He slept until lunch. The small steak that arrived was tough, and he cut the meat awkwardly with his left hand. The loss of two fingers on his right hand made it unsteady despite all the rehab. He was still learning, still retraining what remained of his hand. He was grateful the woman seated next to him didn’t ask if he wanted help, but he was all too aware of her curious gaze.

* * *

TRAVIS SPOTTED JOSH MANNING the moment he entered the Denver airport baggage area. Josh and he were both around six-two, and though his former sergeant looked relaxed in a pair of jeans, blue denim shirt and jacket, his green eyes held the same steely edge they always had as he studied the incoming passengers.

Josh grinned when he saw him and walked over. “Major, it’s damned good to see you.”

Travis nodded. “Same here, but I’m not Major to you any longer. It’s Travis.” He held out his maimed hand and Josh took it in a strong handshake.

“I was damn sorry to hear about what happened to you,” Josh said. “Are you out now?”

“I’m on medical leave now. I have a little time to decide whether to accept a desk job, if one becomes available. You know how army budget cuts are. There’s no certainty that they’ll have a job for me.”

“Is a desk job something you even want?”

Travis shrugged his shoulders and accompanied Josh toward the door. There was an ease about him that had not been there before, a peace in his eyes that Travis envied. After a long walk, they reached a weathered Jeep with the top up, and he saw a dog sitting like a sentinel in the front seat.

“Amos?” he asked. The former military dog wagged his tail enthusiastically.

Josh grinned. “Sure enough. I found him a year and a half after Dave died. He was a mess. So was I. It was hard to tell which one of us was the worse.”

Travis leaned over and offered his good hand to the dog. Amos licked him.

“He remembers you,” Josh said. “He doesn’t do that with strangers.” Josh made a gesture, and the dog scrambled over the seat and sat alertly in the back seat.

Travis awkwardly fit himself inside and looked back. “Sorry I took your place,” he apologized to Amos, who barked and wagged his tail again.

“It’s okay with him. He knows you’re an old friend.”

“I’m glad you found him,” Travis said. “Lieutenant Warner told me how he’d mourned for Dave. It got so bad, he had to be sent back to the States.”

“Well, he ended up being my savior, along with a kid and his mother.”

“I can’t imagine you with a wife and kid.”

“I can’t either. It’s been a year and a half since I married Eve, and I still have to pinch myself to realize it’s real. Me, married to the mayor of the town?”

“Have to admit it shocked me, too.”

“I was in pretty bad shape when I arrived. Neither Dave nor I had any family, so we made each other the beneficiary in our wills. He owned a cabin in a place called Covenant Falls and all he talked about was moving there after the service and starting a wilderness adventure business with me. When he died, I inherited it.”

He paused. Then he added with obvious pain, “It was a virtual wreck, just like me and Amos were. Dave was like a brother to me, and he died saving my life. I think the only thing that kept me from hitting bottom was thinking I was responsible for saving the damn cabin.”

Travis was caught up in the story now. “Go on.”

Josh fell silent for a moment, and then he shrugged. “Covenant Falls is...unique. There’s about three thousand people in and around town. Then there’s a number of small ranches within a fifty-mile radius. Probably three quarters of the population are over fifty and have lived there all their lives. Its history is interesting—it was one of the earliest trading posts in Colorado. The founder was a Scotsman who saved the life of a Ute chief and in return received protection from the tribe. Thus the name Covenant Falls.”

“Sounds interesting,” Travis said and meant it. He’d always liked history, especially American history.

Josh gave him a crooked smile. “Yeah, but all I wanted was to be left alone, fix the cabin, sell it and get the hell out, especially when brownies and cookies and other baked stuff started appearing on my doorstep. I really didn’t want to have anything to do with anyone, particularly civilians. Then a very pretty mayor ambushed me in the backyard,” he continued. “I’d decided to resign from the human race, but it turned out the town had different ideas. Before I knew it, I was volunteering to join other vets in reroofing houses. For free.”

He sounded chagrined and Travis laughed. Josh had been all warrior and all business. To think of him turning from tiger to pussycat was intriguing. Maybe Covenant Falls was unique. The man looked years younger.

“You’re staying then.”

“Yeah. I’m even part owner of an inn. It’s part of what Jubal and I are thinking about.”

“Jubal? Not Jubal Pierce?”

“You know him?”

“I know of him. There’s not many Jubals in the world. He had one hell of a reputation in the Special Forces community until he disappeared several years ago. It was big news when he returned from the dead. How did he end up here?”

“I mentioned on the phone it was complicated. When Eve and I got married, I moved in with her and her son. I wanted Dave’s cabin to be used by a veteran. An army chopper pilot named Clint was recommended by a military psychologist I knew. He was followed by Lieutenant Andrea Stuart, an army surgical nurse, and then Jubal, who was invited by Clint. They went way back. We’re all in on this project, but Jubal is the driving force.”

Travis looked out at the mountains to their right as they drove south. “Looks like great horse country.”

“The land around Covenant Falls is even better,” Josh replied. “It hugs the mountains and is off the beaten path. There’s some really fine ranches in the area. At least five want to be included in our project. But we don’t know where to start. We’ve been researching different Horses for Heroes programs, including several that include multiple ranches. Now we need a battle plan and you were damn good at that.”

“How did this all get started?” Travis asked.

“Riding helped Jubal immensely after he returned. He’d lost his team in Africa and was aimless until a rancher invited him to ride one of his horses. He says it changed his life, gave him a purpose. I think it’s important to him to help other veterans now. He knows how difficult it is to come back. All of us do. We decided to participate, but none of us knew how to start, what we would need, what kind of program works best for veterans. And us.”

“And you think I do?” Travis said with a raised eyebrow.

“I know you’re damned good at planning and implementing plans. All we know is that contact with horses seems to be very therapeutic. We know there’s different types of programs but they don’t come close to meeting the demand.

“Right now,” Josh continued, “he’s thinking of a long-term project, teaching vets the care of horses along with horsemanship. There’s jobs available in the field. But he’s open to other ideas. What we would like you to do is visit ongoing programs, learn about their pros and cons, staffing needs, requirements for a nonprofit and VA Administration grants.”

“Is that all?” Travis asked incredulously.

It was startling to see the smile spread across Josh’s face. “Probably not,” he said. “But it’s the beginning.”

“Can you find a job for the young soldier I told you about?”

“I’m sure we can. Jubal is working with another rancher on the program, and they both need help with horses. You think your soldier will be interested? If not, I’m sure we can find someone in town.”

“I’ll talk to him. He’s a city boy but I think he’ll grab anything. He’s really a good kid and smart. And scared.”

“He’ll have a lot of support here. The town loves its veterans.”

Travis nodded.

“I’ll take you to the cabin first,” Josh said. “I know you must be tired from the early flight. If you’re up to it, we’ll have supper later at Jubal’s ranch. Some other folks will be there.”

“I’ll be up for it,” Travis said. He’d been growing more and more interested as Josh spoke.

They arrived in Covenant Falls late in the afternoon after stopping for lunch along the way. There were no traffic lights, only a few stop signs. Josh pointed out the City Hall, medical clinic, veterinarian’s office, bank and real estate office. With a glance at the back seat, Travis noticed Amos was regarding the world outside with intense interest. It was good to see the dog thriving. Maybe now that he was in the United States again, he would adopt a dog.

He was struck with a sudden loneliness. He certainly didn’t begrudge Josh’s obvious happiness, but his own future didn’t look promising. Dinah’s expression when she first saw him haunted him.

“Major...?” Josh’s voice was a welcome intrusion on dark thoughts.

“Travis,” Travis corrected again.

“That’s going to be difficult to get used to,” Josh said as they followed a road that bordered a very blue lake. He turned into the last driveway on the street and stopped in front of a cabin with a wide screened porch.

They walked up to the door, and Josh opened it. “The key is in the kitchen.”

“You don’t keep it locked?”

“Crime is rare here, especially since Chris, one of the vets, became police chief.”

Travis looked around. A large stone fireplace filled one end of the room. A wall of windows filled another side. Through them, he could see that the backyard was large and backed onto a forest. A large rock barbecue pit was surrounded by three lounge chairs. The cabin was much more than he’d expected.

“I’m going to let you settle in and get some rest,” his host said. “I’ll pick you up at six. Come hungry.”

After Josh left, Travis explored the cabin. If he accepted the offer, it would be a great place to stay. The cabin was immensely comfortable, and the lake outside was a gem. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and took it out to the screened porch and its comfortable chairs.

Covenant Falls looked like a nice town, but he had grown up near an even smaller one and was familiar with its pitfalls. Everyone knew everyone’s business, and Travis preferred the anonymity of a large town.

But this project of Josh Manning’s was intriguing. Travis was fully aware of the problems vets often had when returning home. Many, if not most, soldiers joined to learn a skill, earn an education or make it a lifetime career. Deployments were long and frequent, and your buddies became your lifeline, as well as your family. Leaving due to injury was devastating.

He knew that first-hand. He would listen tonight, but he already knew he wanted to be involved.

He needed a mission, and this sounded like a good one.

* * *

JENNY’S SISTER LOST no time in finding a three bedroom condo she loved. The owner was being transferred overseas, needed a quick sale and was more than happy to add his furniture to the sale.

Jenny moved in with her two weeks later after her father returned to the family home and railed against both sisters, Lenore for ending her marriage and Jenny for taking Lenore’s side.

In the next few weeks, Jenny found an unexpected friend in her sister and a special kinship with Charlie, who was, as Lenore said, very much like herself. They spent a lot of time together as Lenore studied for the Colorado real estate exam.

They shared books and discussed the news on television, and Jenny recounted stories of overseas adventures minus the bad ones.

But as much as she enjoyed the new relationships, her restlessness returned. She wanted to roam again. Visit new places, meet new people. Charlie seemed to understand, and together they combed newspapers, magazines and the internet to find that special “something.”

It was Charlie who found it in one of Lenore’s Colorado travel magazines that her mother was collecting for future clients.

“Look,” Charlie said excitedly. “Here’s a story about an inn in a town named Covenant Falls. I’ve never heard of it, but it’s in Colorado. It mentions a horse therapy program.”

The article featured an inn with the catchy name of the Camel Trail Inn. One line in the short article really struck her. “Innkeeper Susan Hall said many of the town’s outdoor activities are operated by veterans, and plans are underway to develop an equine therapy program for veterans.”

The latter paragraph struck her like lightning. It was exactly what she’d been searching for.

She smiled. A little-known town named Covenant Falls. An inn named the Camel Trail Inn, veterans offering outdoor activities and possibly an equine therapy program.

It was the story she was looking for.

CHAPTER FOUR

“YOU HAVE TO be kidding!” Travis exclaimed.

“Afraid not,” Josh Manning said over the phone.

Three weeks after Travis’s first trip to Covenant Falls, he’d finally moved into Josh’s cabin.

He hadn’t known at first whether he was the right person for the job. He liked the ideas he’d heard at supper that first night. He liked Jubal Pierce and his business partner, Luke, and their commitment to an equine therapy program. He’d seen enough vets in Walter Reed and rehab to know how debilitating the aftermath of war could be.

But he’d wanted to do some research on his own first. He’d spent three weeks back in Washington on his laptop, getting to know equine therapy programs available for veterans. Some received grants, some fees from the VA and some public support. Still, there was more need than availability.

Jubal, though, was impatient. He wanted to get moving. Riding and a horse named Jacko had helped him survive the rough months after leaving the SEALs. He was determined to do the same for others. He’d read about and talked to providers. He knew the need.

Jubal’s commitment to hire Danny was the deciding factor. The kid had been uncertain, having never lived in a small town nor worked with horses. He wasn’t sure what he could do with one leg, and he didn’t want to let Travis down. Travis felt it was the other way around. He didn’t want to let the kid down.

So Travis was there to work on the details, and Danny had moved out to Jubal’s ranch and was now helping to build a bunkhouse of sorts for single participants in the program. Other vets in town had pledged to help, and Danny would learn about construction, as well as horses.

Danny had been awed by working with a SEAL, and Jubal had been pleased with his work ethic and eagerness to learn. For the time being, he used a spare room at Jubal’s ranch, but would move into the bunkhouse once it was finished. The job offered a small salary, as well as room and board.

Everything seemed fine until Travis received the phone call from Josh.

“I have some news,” Josh said, sounding unhappy.

Travis waited for the other shoe to drop.

“A reporter called my wife, as well as the manager of our inn,” Josh said. “She’d heard about Covenant Falls and the veterans here. She wants to do a story.”

“A reporter?” An image of his ex-fiancé skipped through his mind.

“Yeah. I checked on her, and she’s pretty high-powered. Jennifer Talbot. She works for several news agencies. Did some reporting in Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria.”

“I know the name,” Travis said. “Concentrated on soldiers and civilians more than tactics. But why the interest in Covenant Falls? It’s peanuts compared to what she’s been doing. We don’t even know if there will be an equine therapy program yet, much less what it might look like. It’s a hell of a long way from being a reality.”

“Eve told her, but she was insistent. Long story short, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Dammit,” Travis said. He’d had contact with reporters before. Many went for the headline, not the meat of the story. And too many got the meat wrong.

“My sentiments exactly. It’s much too early. But she made a reservation at the inn. Indefinite stay starting on Thursday.”

“What is she doing back here in the States?”

“She didn’t say. Susan was too busy answering the reporter’s questions. I gather this Jennifer Talbot is interested in doing a story about veterans coming here, and Susan mentioned the equine therapy project and Jubal’s name. Talbot apparently seized on it.” Josh hesitated, then added, “Talbot then called my wife for more details. Eve was cautious. She knows how we feel about our privacy and that Jubal definitely does not want this project to be about him. One reason he moved here was to get away from the publicity about his captivity and escape. He went through hell, and he doesn’t want to live through it again in the newspapers.”

“It might be hard to avoid it now,” Travis said. After a moment of consideration, he added, “Publicity would probably help bring in donations.”

“We don’t want that kind of publicity,” Josh said. “First of all, we don’t even know if we’ll go ahead. Second, if we do go ahead, the wrong kind of publicity could scare vets away. We’ll want word of mouth through the military community. We don’t want it to be about us.”

“Got it,” Travis said.

“Maybe you can talk to her. I think you might be more diplomatic than the rest of us, you being an officer and all,” Josh suggested. “Tell her to come back in a year or two.”

“Not going to be easy. A missing SEAL who suddenly reappears out of the jungle to open a therapy program, not to mention the army nurse, chopper pilot and you,” Travis said. “Even I know it’s a great human interest story.”

“And a spotlight would be on any program we come up with. We’re thinking about applying for grants, not spreading it all over newspapers.”

“What do you suggest?” Travis asked.

“Pick her up at the Pueblo airport,” Josh said. “Susan apparently offered. She would do anything to make the inn a success, and I’m usually all for that since I’m a co-owner. Except this time.”

“I don’t think that’s in my job description,” Travis said wryly.

“You’re a hell of a lot more diplomatic than I am. As your staff sergeant, I saw you manipulate superior officers and make them think your idea was theirs more than once.”

Travis couldn’t really deny that. He’d gotten Josh out of several scrapes with superior officers.

“I’m just not sure what I can do.”

“Take her by the Falls. Get her interested in the town rather than the veterans.”

“I’ve only been here a few days,” Travis protested.

“But you’ve had a crash course. I tried to get Andy, but she had previous commitments.”

“I still don’t understand why she can’t drive herself here. Must be a prima donna.”

“Susan offered,” Josh said.

Travis knew ambitious reporters. After all, Dinah had been one. He knew her obsession with a good news story. There was little she wouldn’t do to get an exclusive.

Handling another reporter was the last thing Travis wanted to do, but he understood the danger this posed to the program they might develop. Veterans were fighting enough demons without having a spotlight on them.

He wanted to say no. He was still very aware of his own injuries and scars, but he had to get over it sometime. And he was a part of this now.

“I can’t guarantee results,” he warned.

“Understood,” Josh said. “You’ll meet her at the airport then?”

“Reluctantly,” Travis said. “I would call it hazardous duty.”

Josh chuckled on the phone. “Why don’t you come to our house for dinner tonight?”

“A bribe?”

“Now, would I do that?” Josh asked in a wounded tone.

“Not two years ago. I’m not so certain now. This town has corrupted you. Remind me not to stay long.”

* * *

UPON LANDING AT Pueblo’s small airport, Jenny used her good arm to open the overhead storage and take out her carry-on. She was accustomed to traveling light and washing clothes in a bathroom sink. Despite the pain in her shoulder, she was excited. She had a story, one her gut told her was good.

A moment of unaccustomed nervousness hit her as she walked through the terminal area. Was she ready for this? Susan Hall had offered to meet her, but she didn’t see a woman who appeared to be watching for someone. She did notice instead, a tall well-built man, who appeared to be studying every figure coming through the door, He stepped toward her.

“Miss Talbot?”

Interesting looking. His hair was sandy, short and neatly cut. His eyes were an intriguing mixture of green and amber and brown. Difficult to read. He had the alertness of a soldier and the authority of an officer. A faint scar ran down his cheek and turned one side of his lip upward in a perpetual half smile. Rather than marring a handsome face, she thought it made him more interesting. As he approached, she noticed a limp.

She turned on a smile that usually brought one in return. This one just brought a slight twist of the lips that was barely welcoming.

“I’m Jenny.”

“Travis Hammond,” he said in a deep voice. “I’m substituting for Susan Hall.”

She thrust out her hand. His large right hand wrapped around hers, and she noticed he was missing the two middle fingers. It was different from other handshakes, but she was used to seeing injuries and their aftermath. She shook his hand the way she would with anyone else.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she said.

“No problem,” he said, but his expression was challenging.

“I have a small issue with my shoulder. The doctor said I shouldn’t drive yet. Otherwise I would have rented a car. So I truly appreciate you picking me up.” She hated explaining, but she didn’t want him to think she was a diva.

He nodded and reached for her carry-on. For a brief moment, their hands met again, and an odd recognition flashed between them. It was weird and even a bit discomforting. For her, anyway.

After a slight hesitation, she handed her carry-on to him, and he shouldered it. She preferred to carry her own stuff, even now. She’d been doing it for years. She never wanted to be considered weaker or less able than a guy. In the field, you carried your own weight if you wanted respect. Sometimes, she knew she carried it to extremes.

On the other hand, she didn’t want him to believe she didn’t think he could handle it with his hand. There was, she admitted to herself, some irony in that. “Thanks again,” she said simply.

“Any other luggage, Miss Talbot?” he asked.

She gave him her usually effective smile. “It’s Jenny,” she said. “And no. I travel light.”

He didn’t return the smile. Just nodded. “My car’s not far,” he said. “I understand you’re staying at the inn in Covenant Falls.”

“Who could resist staying at a place called the Camel Trail Inn?” she said as he steered her out the door, across the taxi and pickup line and down a row of cars to a silver sedan.

“Too many people, according to the manager,” he replied drily.

He opened the back door and put her carry-on in the back seat. She didn’t wait for him to come around but opened the passenger door and slid inside. He joined her a second later in the driver’s seat and drove out of the lot after paying the parking fee.

* * *

SHE DISLIKE DEPENDING on a stranger, especially one who didn’t appear thrilled with the chore. She had no idea what she would do about transportation in Covenant Falls. Probably no taxis or Uber. She only hoped she could walk most places and beg a ride for longer distances. Maybe, just maybe, she would try driving. Wouldn’t be so hard on near-empty streets.

She looked at her driver, only too aware of his intriguing scent of soap and outdoors and aftershave lotion. He was quiet and controlled, and there was a natural confidence about him. He was polite but a little wary. She wondered why.

“Are you one of the veterans who moved here?” she asked, twisting as much as she could to study him.

“No. I’m just here temporarily. Arrived five days ago.”

She tried again. “What happened to Susan Hall?” His short, cryptic answers were beginning to annoy her.

“Apparently she had an influx of customers.”

“And you volunteered?”

“Not exactly,” he said with a wry grimace.

“You were requisitioned?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

An honest answer. She liked that. “Reluctantly, I take it.”

His silence answered that question.

“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.”

There it was again. No self-pity. Damned if he didn’t like her.

“I didn’t advertise it,” she continued. “I was afraid it might scare off some of the news services I worked with. I just told them I needed time off.”

He didn’t ask any questions. It was none of his business, and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about his own injuries. But he empathized with her. More than he wanted.

“Tell me more about the town,” she said, changing the subject. “It sounds even more interesting than I thought.”

“I don’t know that much. The two people who can help you are Andy Stuart, the army nurse, and Eve Manning, Josh’s wife. She’s also the mayor.”

“Special Operations?” she asked suddenly.

She did it again. Threw out a question, seemingly out of the blue. She was smart. Too smart. He hesitated.

“Forget I asked that,” she said. But he knew she had her answer by his silence.

He looked as his watch. “It’s nearly four,” he said. “What about those burgers?”

“You heard my stomach,” she accused him.

“I heard my own.”

“A duet,” she said with that quick, open smile.

As they walked back, he saw her stop and turn. She hesitated. It was obvious she didn’t want to leave.

He didn’t want to either. For a moment, he’d felt alive again, more alive than he had in years. He wanted to catch her hand, as a high school kid would.

Instead, he walked in silence beside her, reminding himself of another newswoman. Jennifer Talbot was here for a few days, no more. Then she’d hopefully get back to her life, although he was very aware of how difficult shoulder wounds could be. He liked that she wasn’t giving up.

Hell, he liked her too much. But then, he’d liked his ex-fiancé immediately, too.

Hopefully, she would talk to Eve and Josh and Andy and write a story on Covenant Falls, minus Jubal’s pet project.

He’d done his part. There shouldn’t be a need to meet again, although Covenant Falls’ size made that unlikely.

Unless he sped up his plans to go on the road. Like maybe tomorrow.

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