Patricia Potter - The Soldier's Promise

“Sit, Amos,” Josh said, trying to reinforce the command.

Amos slowly moved his butt from under the bed. Amos usually cringed now when a command was given. Today was no different, but after a moment he obeyed.

“Good boy,” the vet said. She took a small package from her pocket and pulled out a piece of cheese and offered it to Amos.

To Josh’s surprise, he accepted it.

“Few dogs can resist cheese,” she said. “Works a lot better than most dog treats.” She continued whispering to Amos as she inspected his ears and then her hands checked the rest of his body. “Muscle tone is still good.”

“I’ve been taking him for walks at night when there’s no traffic. Sudden noises scare him. And any kind of loud noises. Knocking on the door, for instance.”

“Is that why you’ve scared off visitors?”

“You’ve heard that, too?”

“Everyone in town has. I know you don’t want to say much about your service. Or Amos’s. But it would be a quick way to stop the visitors. They’ll understand.”

He shrugged. “We don’t care if they understand.”

She gave him a long, searching look, then turned back to Amos. “You’re speaking for him?”

He had to crack a smile. “Guess so.”

“From what you’ve said, his sitting is a big deal. Next step seems to be what you’re doing. Walking him when you can. Try to stimulate him. I understand he was trained with dog toys.”

“He has a box load of every kind of toy imaginable. Squeaky ones, long stuffed snakes, the KONG toys loaded with treats. He’s just not interested.”

She shrugged. “Give him time. Amos has had a lot of changes. And a huge loss. You said yesterday that you thought the problem was more a broken heart. But he knew you. You were a familiar piece of his old life. That should help.”

He had thought it might. But though Amos tolerated him, he’d reserved his loyalty and devotion for Dave, who’d always loved dogs and had worked hard to become a handler for the unit.

“I thought so, too, but Amos apparently is a one-person dog. He’d only had one handler.”

Stephanie nodded. “You must have been a very good friend of the handler to take this on. I’ve discovered it’s not the easiest thing to adopt a retired military dog. A lot of paperwork and a lot of time.”

“I owed his handler.”

“Why?”

“Dave was my best friend. He was killed...on my last patrol.”

“David Hannity?”

He stared at her.

“It makes sense,” she said. “From both what you said and didn’t say.”

He nodded. “Others died that day, too. An ambush.” He didn’t know why he’d said that. Especially to a stranger, but then she’d guessed most of it.

“And you feel responsible?” She paused, then added, “It’s none of my business, and you can be sure I won’t repeat anything to anyone. But I wanted to know your commitment to Amos.”

“Dave saved my life that day. Do you know now?”

“I think I do,” she said softly. “Start taking him on mountain trails during the day. No cars or loud noises there. Talk to him. Don’t give up on the toys. If there’s no progress in several weeks, then maybe we will try something else.”

He nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m not sure I helped much.”

“None of the vets at Lackland could, either. Maybe time...”

She looked at him directly. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“Not so much. If he was lucky, Dave would still be alive.”

She turned to leave.

“What about the bill?”

“I didn’t do anything. No charge.”

He walked her to the door and watched her leave. She walked with athletic grace. She was attractive, but there was none of that sexual electricity he’d felt with the mayor. So it hadn’t been just a need for female companionship. He’d hoped that was the case.

The mayor, for God’s sake. He’d truly lost his mind. Dave would have laughed his head off.

* * *

EVE RACED TO make her son’s first softball game of the season.

Her in-laws, Abby and Jim, had picked up Nick after school and driven him to the baseball field since she wasn’t sure whether she could make it in time.

It seemed everyone in town was there. No stands, but everyone seemed to have brought their own chairs. There was even a rocker for old Mrs. Evans.

The smell of corn dogs and popcorn floated across the field from a truck manned by mothers, as did the sound of laughter from younger children who played their own version of baseball in a smaller field.

This was why she loved Covenant Falls. It was stuck in a time warp. Sure, there was a problem with kids getting drugs, but it was mostly weed and alcohol. When the biggest news was a new resident, she felt herself lucky.

Abby turned to her. “I heard you met the man who is at the Hannity cabin.”

“He owns the cabin,” Eve corrected.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said. “Because there was so much talk, I went against my better instincts and asked Tom to check on him. He has good credit, no record and a clear title to the cabin, and that’s more than anyone needs to know.”

Abby’s hurt look stabbed her. Both she and her husband had always been wonderful to her. They looked after Nick when she had to work, Jim helped out at the ranch and they had loved her as a daughter. She was just so tired of all the suspicion surrounding the new resident.

But Abby was just voicing the gossip she knew was running around the community like wildfire.

A roar went up from the watching parents, and she saw a ball shooting through the air. Nick was running to first base. Second base. He rounded third as an opposing player caught the ball on the ground and threw it.

Nick slid into home plate and grinned at the cheers. Pride exploded in Eve. He was so much like his father. And that open, happy grin had been rare since first his father, then his grandfather, had died.

Maybe he was finally letting go, just as her mother-in-law had told her she should do. Memories were fine things, Abby had said, but not when they haunted the living.

She’d never been tempted, though. At thirty-three, she’d found that the good guys were already taken, and she didn’t care much for those who were left. At Abby’s urging, she’d tried a couple of awkward dates, but she couldn’t wait to get home. Most wanted something she wasn’t willing to give.

She’d had a great husband and she wasn’t going to settle for less. Nor was she willing to lose someone again. And Nick? She didn’t even want to think what another loss would mean to him.

It was, therefore, troubling—no, maddening—that Joshua Manning had been in her head all day. Flashes of his guarded but brilliant green eyes lingered in her brain, as did the sexual awareness that shook her to the core. She’d felt it like a bolt of lightning.

She tried to will it away, but the need was stubborn. Her skin warmed at the thought. He exuded primal masculinity. Control. Assurance. The memory of his chest straining against the T-shirt...

Go away.

“Anything wrong?” Abby asked. “You look a little flushed.”

Drat him. “I’ve just been rushing all day,” she said. Could everyone read her thoughts?

But Abby just looked concerned. “You work too hard.”

“It’s budget time, and we need a new police chief.”

Another shout went up. One of Nick’s teammates reached second base. She tried to concentrate. What inning was it? And what would they have for supper? Mundane things that were, nonetheless, important to her son, and that was all that should matter. Her son already had more losses than was fair for a ten-year-old. He deserved her full attention.

And he would get it, she promised herself.