A Soldier's Journey. Patricia Potter

then wagged their tails before retreating to their humans.

      Andy took several steps down to a large patio, and Josh guided her over to a man and woman who were drinking long-necked beers. “The lady is Stephanie, veterinarian superb,” Josh said, “and the loafer is Clint Morgan, chopper pilot, police-chief-to-be and your predecessor at the cabin.”

      Stephanie smiled. “Welcome,” she said. A striking redhead, she was nearly as tall as Clint. She eyed Joseph. “Shelties are great dogs. Where did you find him?”

      Andy hesitated. She really hated to admit she’d needed help.

      But then she shrugged. “A group specializing in matching dogs with veterans. A psychologist at the hospital arranged it.”

      “How long have you had him?” Stephanie asked.

      “About three weeks.”

      “He’s obviously well trained. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.”

      “We’re getting used to each other. I thought there would be other dogs here.”

      “We tried to restrain ourselves tonight,” Stephanie said with a big grin. “I have two at home. Clint has one. Josh has Amos, and Eve has four rescues. We thought to keep your first visit relatively peaceful. We didn’t want you to run back to Texas on your second day.”

      “Sit,” Josh said. “I’m putting steaks on the grill. How do you like yours?”

      “Medium.” She put her drink on a table and sank down into one of the lounge chairs. She looked at Stephanie. “Are you a native of Covenant Falls?”

      “I’ve been here a little more than five years,” she said. “I’m one of the newcomers. If I had been here twenty years, I would still be a newcomer, but that’s okay. We’re not too discriminated against.”

      Andy decided she needed a longer conversation with Eve about Covenant Falls politics and, more specifically, about Al Monroe, but this was not the time or place.

      Andy sipped her glass of wine. She drank very little since her return to the States. Her medications had narrowed to two, one for panic attacks and the other for insomnia. She hadn’t used those in several days, but she was still cautious about alcohol.

      The sun was going down, and vivid scarlet, pink and coral ribbons crossed the sky and blessed the mountain.

      Nate returned and Andy looked at the three men—Nate, Clint and Josh—around her. They had served, probably survived horrors as she had. But she still felt apart from them. They seemed at ease, living in the moment. Talking about events that had nothing to do with her. The shadows inside were still too strong, the memories too recent.

      She saw the affectionate banter and touches between Josh and Eve, and Clint and Stephanie, and she resented them. She shouldn’t. They were going out of the way to make her feel at home, but...dammit, she did. That anger and resentment she’d felt the morning she saw the couple in the hospital returned.

      “Andy?” Nate walked over to her chair. “Why don’t we walk to the corral? The horses are out.”

      Gratitude filled her. He had sensed her discomfort. She nodded and stood, the brace on her left hand hitting the table beside her and knocking the glass over. It exploded like a shot, and the wine splashed up on Nate’s clothes and began to spread. A red stain spreading...spreading...

      White lights. Shots. Screams. Her screams. More shots. Pain. The mountains faded into the field operating room. Blood was everywhere. “No,” she heard herself screaming. Jared stepped in front of her and... God, no... Jared! Jared! Don’t...

      She was only vaguely aware of someone touching her, talking to her, but she couldn’t understand the words. A loud bark, a warm furry body pressing against her...

      She felt herself being lowered to a sitting position. Images still darted in and out of her brain. The man with the gun... Her friend...

      She couldn’t breathe. Then she felt arms going around her and carrying her. Strong. Like Jared. He isn’t dead!

      “Andy. Breathe. Take a deep breath. Breathe,” the voice commanded. It isn’t Jared. Despair flooded her.

      “Breathe, dammit.” The voice was louder, too strong to resist.

      Air rushed in, then out.

      “Andy?” The voice was gentle now, even tender. “You’re safe now.” Something wet licked her face. A furry body tried to crawl up on her. She grabbed him, held him close as the images started to fade away in a fog.

      She was aware, barely, that fingers were taking her pulse, then her blood pressure. She knew her pulse was racing, and her blood pressure was probably sky-high. Her eyes were wet. Sore.

      She was inside a room. Not a tent. Joseph was madly licking her hands. She saw Nate’s face then. Worried. His hands were busy taking her blood pressure.

      Stephanie was by her side, holding a glass of water. “Hey. Glad to have you back with us,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Take a sip of water.”

      Andy did as she was told. “I’m so sorry,” she said after a swallow. “I don’t know...” But she did know, and she felt humiliated beyond words.

      “No apologies necessary,” Stephanie said.

      “Damn right,” Nate said. “I’ve been there. So has Josh.”

      “I shouldn’t have come...” She remembered the steaks then. Probably burned by now. She didn’t care for herself. She wasn’t hungry. She felt sick. And incredibly tired.

      “Anything I can get you?” Stephanie asked.

      She shook her head. All she wanted to do was flee, but she didn’t want to ruin everyone’s evening, and that was what would happen if she left now. She had to stop running, no matter how much she wanted to at this minute.