Patricia Potter - The Soldier's Promise

“Think about adoption?” Eve ventured.

“Not with my schedule. I never know when I’m going to be away all night with a sick cow or pregnant mare.”

Mary came to take their order, although they usually got the same thing. Their guilty pleasure, they both agreed, and to be enjoyed once a week.

“Let me guess,” Mary said. “Two patty melts with fries, and iced tea, one sweet, one without sugar.”

“Got it.” Eve beamed up at her. She would have a salad tonight and make Nick a hot dog. He ran all his calories off.

“I heard you went out to the Hannity place,” Stephanie said.

“Marilyn again, I suppose,” Eve replied with a deep sigh.

“Yep. I think she sits at that window all day long, just praying for more gossip fodder.”

Stephanie nodded. “Mr. Manning came to my office day before yesterday to discuss his dog.”

“And—” Eve held her breath “—was the dog as starved as Marilyn charged?”

“No,” Stephanie said. “I can’t talk about it. Mr. Manning requested that I don’t, and I won’t. I can say, though, that he is a responsible owner and, hopefully, that will end the talk.”

That shut down that subject. Eve had heard harsh words come from Stephanie when talking about owners who did not take care of their animals properly, and her defense of Joshua Manning told her a great deal.

She couldn’t help but pry a bit more. “What did you think of him?”

Stephanie shrugged. “It’s clear he’s carrying a lot of weight on those shoulders. Don’t know what, and it’s none of my business, but I like him. He doesn’t bullshit.” She peered at Eve. “Rumor is that you went by his place.”

“I did. I took him a land survey he’d requested.”

“Do you usually do that?”

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” Eve said.

“Ah,” Stephanie said. “Same question you asked me, then. What did you think of him?”

“Prickly. Defensive. Secretive. Rude.”

Stephanie’s face creased into a smile. “And you liked him! I’ll be hornswoggled.”

“I didn’t say that,” Eve protested.

“Yeah, you did,” Stephanie said with a big grin. “Not exactly with words but...”

Eve’s face flushed.

“Okay,” Stephanie said. “I’ll drop it. But one small warning. He is attractive in a rather rebellious way, but he’s a loner. I’ve seen them before. I know the type. My first husband was one of them.”

Eve started to say something, then stopped. Why was she even carrying on this conversation? She’d had her love. It was as love should be: warm and caring and gentle.

And safe.

She wanted to tamp down the last word. But she knew there was some truth in it. Her mother and father had been passionately in love in the beginning, but they were entirely different. He loved the outdoors; her mother didn’t. She was an Easterner who hated guns; guns were part of her father’s life. He liked animals and wanted his daughter to have one; her mother believed dogs belonged outside. She’d watched her mother change through the years into a bitter woman and when Eve’s father was killed in the line of duty, it had confirmed all her mother’s fears and dislikes. The day after his funeral, she’d left Covenant Falls, never to return.

Passion, Eve had learned, was not enough for any relationship. Eve hadn’t wanted to go through that, or turn into the person her mother was. She was grateful that Russ chose to be a high school coach rather than go into law enforcement or soldiering or some other dangerous profession. The irony was that he had died before her father. She shrugged. “He’s definitely not my type, and I’m most definitely not his.”

“Just how do you know that, my friend?”

“I just know it,” she said. “This whole conversation is ridiculous. My life is just as I like it right now. I have Nick. I have a great job. Well, most of the time. I like my independence. I don’t need any problems, particularly a large, walking, talking one like Joshua Manning.”

“I think thou doth protest too much.”

Maybe she did. She didn’t even know why he held such a fascination for her. She decided to change the subject, wipe that man right out of her mind, to put a new slant on an old song. “How’s Sherry doing?”

Stephanie’s eyes lit up. “Great. She’s one of the best rescue dogs I’ve had. Head of the class at field training in Denver. Stryker, on the other hand, did not do so well. He has the nose for it but not the discipline.”

“I hear you’re doing an obedience training session at the fund-raiser week from Saturday. And donating your training services to the highest bidder. You think anyone in town will admit they have unruly dogs?”

“Why not? You do.”

“What can I say? They had sorry puppyhoods.”

“True. You’re also a soft touch for anything with four legs and a tail. Which brings up a request I want to make. I need a volunteer for the obedience session. One of your tribe of little miscreants would be good. Nick can be my stooge,” she said with a grin.

“I don’t think he would care much for that description. Which specific miscreant are you considering?”

“I’ll let Nick choose, although Miss Marple would be the biggest challenge.”

“I can almost guarantee it will be Fancy. He wants everyone to see her for the gentle soul she is.”

Stephanie grinned. “He would pick the plainest one.”

“Well, Braveheart is certainly not ready to confront a crowd, and Captain Hook can’t keep still for a second. Miss Marple wouldn’t stay still long enough, either. Besides, Nick thinks Fancy is misunderstood because of her looks. He’ll want to prove to everyone that she’s charming.”

“He really should be a vet,” Stephanie replied.

“I wish. He’s fixated on detective shows. He wants to be a cop like his grandfather and catch the guys who killed him. I’m trying to steer him toward a different path. Doctor. Lawyer. Rodeo clown. Anything but a cop. Or a soldier.”

Stephanie shuddered. “Not a lawyer. Please.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m late. I have some inoculations to do at the Morgan ranch.”

“I’ll see you Saturday, then, if not before,” Eve said.

Then she was off. Eve paid the bill and left a hefty tip.

She was having second thoughts about another visit to the Hannity cabin. Steph had seen too much. More than she had. She needed to keep a distance. And yet she felt like a magnet drawn toward a lodestone.

Which made no sense. No sense at all.

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