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CHAPTER FOUR (#u3f120706-64dc-59f2-88d9-8304b88e84b8)
“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.
