A Soldier's Journey. Patricia Potter

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      Joseph opened one eye and peered at her, as if asking whether he could stay. She remembered her resolve three weeks ago. She wasn’t going to get too emotionally invested in the dog. It was a sound decision. It had lasted until the first nightmare, when he’d woken her, crawled up on the bed and let her cling to him.

      Bright blue eyes regarded her solemnly now, and she couldn’t help but rub his ears. So much for not getting invested.

      She looked at the clock on the stand next to her bed. Nearly seven. She rarely, if ever, slept that late, but then yesterday had been a very long day. She had gone nearly twenty-four hours without more than a nap yesterday morning.

      Even after arriving back at the cabin, she’d looked through more of the papers.

      One item had jumped out at her. The mention of a camel ordinance being defeated...

      For a few hours she hadn’t thought of Jared, of her friends, of the hand that didn’t work very well.

      She stretched out in the bed and thought about the day ahead of her.

      Saturday. She was committed to dinner tonight. She wasn’t sure whether she was ready for it, but Eve Manning was a force of nature.

      She rubbed Joseph’s fur, and he rewarded her with a sneak-attack kiss. As a nurse who had never had a dog before, she was appalled. But then, she reasoned, a lot of people apparently had canine companions and stayed healthy.

      Joseph hadn’t attempted such an overt show of affection before. She apparently had passed the Joseph test.

      “Time to get up,” she said. She was hungry. Appetite was something else that had been missing. She was actually hungry now. Dr. Payne would be proud. She might send him a text.

      She went into the bathroom. The shower was great. She stayed there for a long time, washing her hair, then just reveling in the hot water. It was almost symbolic. Washing away some of the anger and hopelessness that had smothered her.

      She stepped out. Joseph stood and wagged his tail. “Want to go out?” she asked.

      The tail moved faster.

      Andy went back in the bedroom and slipped into jeans and a T-shirt, then went to the back door and opened it. Joseph dashed out.

      She stood there and watched as the dog explored the area in back, then did his business and returned. She had been afraid at first that he would run away, but in the two weeks she’d been with him, she’d learned how well he was trained. The word come would bring him immediately.

      She prepared coffee. It was slow because she had to do nearly everything with one hand. Then she fried three eggs. One went into Joseph’s bowl along with dog food. Her two went on a plate with one of the sweet rolls Maude had provided with the cabin.

      Andy carried her plate outside. She left the front door open for Joseph to join her.

      The lake was visible through the trees. The scent of pines perfumed the air. A few wildflowers peeked up out of the ground.

      Her thoughts turned to Nate Rowland. Grit. Just his saying the word helped her battered self-image. Grit was something she needed, something she respected, something she’d once relished and in the past months had lost.

      Or maybe she hadn’t.

      She hadn’t been a victim in his eyes. She was a person with grit, and that was a gift.

      So was a purpose. There were interesting tidbits in the newspapers but very little about the beginnings of the town, and that had been the carrot Eve had offered. Traders. American Indians. Gold. That was the core, the mother lode.

      She picked up the plate and coffee cup and went inside, placed them in the sink and looked at her watch. It was a little after eight. She washed the dishes, put them away, then called Eve.

      After the preliminaries, she got to the point. “You and Nate mentioned Al Monroe, that he might have original journals from 1850. I would very much like to read them. Question is, how do I approach Mr. Monroe?”

      “Quite honestly, I think if you called, he would say no,” Eve said. “He’s had a couple of tragedies these past few years, and he’s retreated from nearly everyone. But he’s very proud of his family roots. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

      “You think he would approve of me writing a short history of the town?”

      “I never know with Al. I’m not one of his favorite people, but he surprises me at times. He was a curmudgeon on the town council, but under a gruff exterior he really cares about Covenant Falls.”

      Andy digested that answer. It raised several questions. And suspicions. She didn’t like being manipulated, either for her own good or for someone else’s.

      But despite any misgivings, she was hooked. One of her character flaws was an obsession to finish whatever she started. “What time tonight?” she asked.

      “Around six,” Eve said. “Oh, I asked Nate to come as well, since you’ve already met him. If it’s okay, he’ll pick you up. Josh will be working his magic with steaks, and we’re a bit hard to find.”

      “It’s fine,” Andy said and with a goodbye hung up. She stood there for a moment. It wasn’t fine at all. Nate was being thrown at her, and she resented it. He probably did, too. He had been helpful last night, but the last thing she wanted, or needed, was a matchmaker hovering around. Damn.

      * * *

      NATE AND JOSH spent Saturday-morning meeting with the newly hired manager for the Covenant Falls Inn. The daughter of one of his mother’s friends, Susan Hall, had been a hotel manager in Las Vegas—not for one of the huge luxury hotels, but a small boutique hotel.

      She was recently divorced and had been looking for a job far away from the ex-husband when her mother had heard about the opening for a manager. Susan was hired after the first interview.

      “It may not be permanent,” Nate had warned. “We’re all out on a limb here.”

      “It doesn’t matter. Right now, it’s a godsend.”

      “You can hire the rest of the staff,” Nate said. “Let us know what you need and recommended salaries.”

      “We’ll start off slow until we know about the market,” she said. “I can fill several positions. We’ll need a night manager. I’ll take care of the day desk.”

      “We’ll need a cook,” Nate said.

      “A chef,” Josh said with a wry smile.

      “A cook,” Nate insisted.

      Susan laughed. “Maybe we could get Maude.”

      “Hell, no,” Nate said. “The town would drive us out on a rail. But we have other great cooks in town. We start out using home talent. Mrs. Byars, for instance, could provide brownies for each room, and Ethel Jones is a great cook. She’s widowed and could use money. We could hire a young person to help her while getting training.”

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