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  “Weird, isn’t it?” Richard said as he hunted for a parking space. “Being back, but not really being back.”

  KD didn’t answer. That tightness was starting to squeeze her chest again, and she didn’t want to worry him. She’d awakened him often enough lately with choking nightmares, and had seen the concern on his face when she’d struggled to catch her breath. Poor guy hadn’t signed on to be her personal watchdog. In fact, he hadn’t signed on for anything, and now that construction on Tent City was completed, her month with him was coming to an end. She could sense the impatience in him. Richard had lived a regimented, yet transient existence for the last eight years. This lack of direction must be wearing him down.

  After he parked the truck and killed the motor, he sat for a moment, looking around as if imprinting on his memory the sights and sounds of the largest active-duty, armored military base in the United States. After a minute, he turned and asked, “You ready for your big day?”

  “I’ve decided to skip the ceremony. Have them mail the medal to me instead.”

  He didn’t hide his disappointment. “You earned that Purple Heart, KD. You should be proud, not ashamed.”

  She shrugged. If anyone deserved a medal, it was Nataleah. The more KD thought about it, the more convinced she was that Shirley might have been right—the captain had purposely sent KD into the back room of Farid’s hut to protect her. Nataleah was the true hero.

  Trying to inject enthusiasm into her voice, she asked what he would be doing while she was at her appointments.

  “After I check us into the hotel, I’ll go by the MP offices and see if they’ve heard anything new about Khalil.” Reaching over the console, he took her hand in his. “The sooner we figure out what he’s up to, the better all of us will feel.”

  It was kind of him to say all of us, rather than you. “I’m sorry to drag you through this mess, Richard. You’re not my babysitter.”

  “I like being your babysitter. And he threatened me, too, remember.”

  “Because of what I did.” And even more troubling . . . if he stayed, he’d be in danger. But if he left— No. She couldn’t bear to think about that. “Maybe we should leave,” she said on impulse. “Go somewhere he can’t ever find us.”

  “Leave your family to deal with him? Always wondering if he’s still out there, looking for us? No. Better we face him now and end it. Then we’ll know we’re safe.”

  “But—”

  “Quit worrying, babe. You’ve got half a dozen guys watching out for you. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Your mama said so herself.”

  “She was just putting on a show for the sheriff.”

  “Then how about you put on a show for me. Maybe later . . . say . . . in the shower.” He did that waggly thing with his eyebrows. “The Barkley has really big showers, as I recall.”

  The man did know how to make her smile. Although she wasn’t sure about his obsession with the shower. Breathing easier now, she opened the car door and stepped out, then bent down and blew him a kiss. “Later, smartass.”

  Her first stop was Dr. Prescott’s office to ask if he had any recommendations for a psychologist to run the horse therapy program.

  “I’m glad you’ve decided to do it.” He motioned her to one of the chairs by his desk. “Are you intending to put the idea before the members of your old group?”

  “Except for those you think might not be suitable candidates.”

  “Laura and Thomas are back now. I think both would benefit greatly. Laura is the burn victim,” he reminded her, as if she would have forgotten in a month. “And Thomas had the TBI—traumatic brain injury. They’re doing much better now.”

  “What about the fidgety one?” KD asked. “I don’t remember his name.”

  “Roberto has moved to a detox facility. But Sarge and Shirley are still here. Perhaps they would be interested.”

  “Are they meeting today?” The group usually met on Fridays.

  “They are.” He checked his watch. “In half an hour to be exact.”

  She asked if she could drop in and see if anybody would be interested. He said she could, then he hesitated, studying her with eyes that appeared bug-like and huge behind his thick lenses. “If I may,” he finally said. “I know these people. I’ve worked with several of them for almost a year. I know their weaknesses and strengths, and what might set them back or help them move forward. If you’d permit, and assuming they’re interested in coming to the ranch, I’d like to be group leader for your initial therapy session.”

  KD was taken aback. Dr. Prescott barely seemed capable of handling the group as it was. And now he wanted to add horses and an unknown environment to the mix? How was that going to work?

  “I can see you’re hesitant, Miss Whitcomb,” he said with a smile. “I know I might seem a bit passive in group. I find that works best when people are dealing with aggression and unfocused anxiety. One mustn’t appear challenging or judgmental. But I assure you I am capable of handling these patients. And my being there would avoid the additional stress of having them adapt to a new therapist. What do you think? Shall we give it a try?”

  She had definitely underestimated this guy. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

  “Excellent.” He pulled the familiar zippered pouch from the lower desk drawer and checked his watch again. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Do you have a contact name for Wounded Warrior? And could you renew my anti-anxiety prescription? Maybe increase the dosage a little? I haven’t slept well lately.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to go into a long explanation of her worries about Richard leaving soon and Khalil Farid showing up at the ranch.

  He scribbled a name and number on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “Tell Marilyn I’ll be involved with the horse project, too. I told her about it, and she sounded anxious to help. Meanwhile, I’ll look over your medications and see about adjusting the dosage.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Check back with me when you drop by the group session.”

  “Thanks.” KD crossed to the door, then hesitated. “By the way, what should we call you? Dr. Prescott seems pretty formal for such a relaxed setting.”

  “Conan will be fine.”

  She laughed. “Then I’ll be Snow White. See you in group.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Next, KD called the number Conan had given her and asked for Marilyn. When she told her about the horse therapy project she was starting at the ranch, and that Dr. Prescott would be involved, Marilyn said she would be glad to help but would need more information before she took it to the board.

  “Why don’t I talk to Dr. Prescott and see what he recommends,” Marilyn suggested. “Meanwhile, if you could work up projected expenses, what kind of help you’re looking for, and some sort of time frame, that will get us started.”

  KD told her what would help most for now was transportation for the patients from Fort Hood to the ranch and meal expenses while they were there. “We already have places for them to stay and a way to prepare meals. And suitable horses, of course.”

  After Marilyn said she’d check into it and consult with Dr. Prescott about the patients’ needs, KD promised to let her know when their first session would be, then hurried on to the group session.

  They seemed almost semi-pleased to see her.

  Shirley, the amputee, smiled and welcomed her back. Tommy TBI gave her a goofy smile, although that might have been his new meds. The burn victim, Laura, wasn’t crying for once and actually made brief eye contact, and Sergeant Rayfield asked why she wasn’t wearing her shiny new medal.

  “I’ll pick it up later. But I want to talk to y’all about something else.” She looked over at Dr. Prescott—Conan. “Is now a good time?”

  He nodded.

  “Is this about that horse thing?” Sarge asked with a labored sigh.

 
; “It is. And all I ask is that you listen before you make a decision.” She waited for nods, waited a little longer for Sarge’s, then started in about her horse therapy project.

  “Dr. Prescott, or Conan”—she smiled at the doctor—“will be attending, too. He can explain what he hopes to accomplish in the group sessions. I’m here to talk about the facility. I’ll provide the horses you’ll be using, the wranglers who will be there to help you, and a cook, unless you want to do your own cooking. You’ll be living in a rustic tent compound in the middle of a working ranch—no TV, no Internet, spotty cell service—but with miles of trails to hike and billions of stars to contemplate. You may see deer, snakes, coyotes, frogs, or raccoons along the creek, or skunks, squirrels, wild turkeys, possibly a few feral hogs, and various other small critters when you’re out and about. It’s a beautiful, peaceful setting. I hope you’ll enjoy being there. Have any of you spent time around horses?”

  Only Shirley nodded.

  “That’s okay. We can teach you all you need to know.”

  Shirley asked what they would do with the horses, and KD explained that at first, they would mostly groom and feed the animals until they were comfortable enough to do more. No pressure.

  “Sounds like summer camp,” Shirley said.

  “I ain’t doing no crafts,” Sarge stated.

  KD laughed. “Good. We’re not planning any. But you’ll have books and cards and games on hand. And your horse. Are any of you interested in giving it a try?”

  “I am,” Shirley said.

  Tommy TBI grinned and shrugged—unless it was a twitch from his medication.

  Laura nodded.

  Sarge smirked. “I told you I didn’t like horses.” He looked around at the others, probably checking to see if anyone would try to talk him into coming. When no one did, he shrugged. “But I ain’t doing no cooking.”

  “I’ll cook for you, Sarge,” Shirley said with a shy smile. “I’m good at it and I love doing it.” She looked at the others. “In fact, I’d be happy to cook for everybody, if that’s okay.”

  No dissenters, so KD suggested the others could take turns helping with prep and cleanup. “Dr. Prescott—Conan—can figure out a work schedule.”

  “Does that mean all of you are attending?” Conan glanced at Sarge.

  He shrugged.

  The others nodded.

  “Great! I have only two rules,” KD went on. “The doctor may have others that he will discuss with you later. Rule one: Even though you’ll be staying in a remote part of it, this ranch is my home. I ask that you treat it—and all the people who live and work there—with respect.

  “The second rule is that you must not mistreat your horse. If you don’t feel safe with it, another will be assigned, or we will work with you until you feel comfortable. These are well-trained, even-tempered, experienced horses—bulletproof. Like humans, they can sometimes be stubborn, playful, cranky, lazy, fearful, and have bad days. But unlike humans, their first response is not to immediately lash out when things don’t go their way. They’ll give you plenty of warning if they’re distressed. We’ll teach you how to recognize those signals and how to deal with them. But if you’re calm and gentle when handling them, and patient if they’re slow to respond, you’ll easily earn their trust and cooperation.”

  She paused to look from one to the other. “Break either of these rules—showing disrespect to my home and workers, or using violence against the horses—will get you a quick trip back to Hood. Is that understood?”

  Nods all around. Except Sarge, who said, “How long do we have to stay there?”

  KD had to smile. “You don’t have to stay there at all, Sarge. You get to stay there. We’re thinking a week. But y’all can decide that when you talk to Dr. Prescott. Anything else?”

  Blank faces.

  Great.” She turned to Conan. “Is my prescription ready?”

  The doctor handed it over—same dosage, KD saw—and told her to drop by his office later and he would let her know the date they picked for the visit to the ranch.

  KD nodded and turned back to the group. “Thanks for doing this test run. We’ll have a great time.” A final wave and she left.

  Now to get her medal with as little fuss as possible. Maybe someone in the administration building could mail it to her. She checked her map of the base, located the building, and headed north. As she walked, she texted Richard, telling him to pick her up there.

  A few minutes later, a vehicle pulled over to the curb on the other side of the street. A familiar voice called out the open window, “Hey, good-looking! I got a room and ten bucks. Wanna have a good time?”

  Cars driving between them slowed. Walkers turned to look.

  That smartass. KD considered ignoring him but figured he would just follow after her, yelling more enticements out the window. “Best bring a friend,” she called back. “You don’t look up to the task.”

  A driver passing by honked and gave her a thumbs-up.

  Laughter and hoots from two soldiers walking on the other side of the street.

  Richard grinned. “Oh, baby, you’re breaking my heart!”

  Defeated by laughter, KD gave up and crossed the street. “You’re such a jerk,” she choked out as she climbed into the truck and waved at another car honking as it drove by.

  “But you love me anyway.”

  “Not anymore.”

  He shot her a questioning look.

  Ignoring him, she pointed to the left as he pulled away from the curb. “The admin building is a block over. I’m hoping they’ll tell me where to get my medal or will mail to it to me.”

  “No chance you’ll change your mind about the ceremony?”

  “Not a one. But on a happier note,” she added before he could argue with her about it, “we now have four guinea pigs and a handler willing to come to the ranch for the first horse therapy session.”

  “Great. When?”

  “Not sure yet. The doctor is talking to the group even as we speak.”

  As soon as Richard pulled into a visitor slot at the admin building, KD hopped out. “I’ll be quick as I can.”

  By the time she found the right office, she had a fine excuse cooked up. But the corporal behind the desk didn’t care why she wanted the medal without the ceremony and, after checking her ID, simply handed it over. Sort of anticlimactic. Yet oddly, the moment she had the small box containing the Purple Heart in her hand, she felt like crying. “Do you know if Captain Nataleah Mouton got a medal, too?” she asked.

  He turned to his computer, typed, scrolled, typed some more, then sat back. “Yes, she did. Posthumously.”

  “Could I take it to her family?”

  “Already mailed.”

  “Then can I have her family’s address so I can write to them? The captain and I were wounded in the same skirmish. I’d like to tell her folks what a courageous leader she was.”

  He typed and scrolled some more, made a notation on a sticky note, peeled it off, and handed it to her. “Thanks for your service.”

  A few minutes later she was back outside, heading across the visitor lot.

  “Now where to?” Richard asked when she hopped into the truck. “I’m hungry.”

  “Medical again to get my prescription filled and find out from Prescott when the group decided to come to the ranch. Then on to our diner to celebrate. And to say goodbye.”

  That questioning look again. “To me?”

  “Yeah. And I get to keep your stuff.” She gave him a look. “Of course not, Einstein. Goodbye to all this, and hello to new beginnings.”

  He started up the truck. “I’m for that. Who’s Einstein?”

  * * *

  * * *

  Their gum-popping, purple-haired waitress wasn’t on duty that day—probably at home, slapping on another layer of makeup—but they man
aged to order anyway. Burgers with fries for him, BLT for her, two chocolate shakes.

  “When did you say the group is coming to the ranch?” Richard asked after the waitress left.

  “As soon as Prescott can get a van lined up. I hope it’s not too soon. We still don’t have a refrigerator.”

  “We can make do with coolers. Who all’s coming?”

  KD gave him a brief rundown on the group members and Conan. “They seem pretty interested.”

  Their order came. As soon as they took the edge off their appetites, KD asked what the MPs had learned.

  “Nothing. No chatter, no suspicious movements, no cryptic messages coming out of Afghanistan, no bloated bodies baking in the desert.”

  KD made a face. “Way to kill a girl’s appetite.”

  “The point is”—he waved a limp fry for emphasis—“I’m beginning to think Khalil Farid was all talk and no bite. A sniveling coward. I bet he’s not even coming.”

  “Yeah? How much?”

  He chewed and thought for a moment. “Two dollars.”

  “Not much of a bet.”

  “I’m not much of a gambler. You going to finish that sandwich?”

  While he ate everything on his plate and hers, KD thought about what she should do. As long as Khalil was a threat, Richard would hang around. And then what? And what about the horse therapy? Would he want to stay for that? She could almost feel him slipping away and realized this might be the last time in a while they’d be alone, on their own, without her family looking on.

  “Let’s go camping,” she said on impulse. “Just for the night. I know a great little park on the way back to the ranch. There’s even a lake. You’ll like it.”

  “We don’t have a tent.”

  “We might not need one.” She picked up her phone and scrolled through the weather app. “Low seventy-three, clear skies, not much moon. Perfect for stargazing. We can sleep in the bed of the truck and watch the Milky Way slide across the sky.”