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.
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
