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.
