THE WATER WAS even colder than Travis remembered. He was grateful. It took his mind off Jenny as he swam well into the lake before turning around, climbing up on the dock and wrapping a large, thick towel around his waist. He walked to the cabin as fast as his weak leg allowed.
After a hot shower, he reviewed the materials he and Jubal had accumulated. Some of it was on his laptop but there were also books, brochures, notes and other written material Jubal had gathered after talking to the equine therapy providers on the schedule.
They had all been helpful. They were reluctantly turning away vets because their programs were full. The fact he represented a SEAL, a Ranger staff sergeant, an army nurse and a Vietnam vet made it an easy sale.
He’d prepared a list of questions for the providers and Dr. Payne. He’d asked each member of the Covenant Falls group for a couple of questions and added more of his own. Several had to do with the length of the program and the number of participants at any one time. Other questions involved financial aspects and staffing. What kind of qualifications should they look for? Would a physical therapist be necessary? A mental health professional?
It was two in the morning before he finished. Lack of sleep was finally getting to him. He knew he would wake at dawn, regardless of when he went to bed, no alarm clock needed.
He tried not to think of the next day, of spending so many hours in a small space with a woman who attracted him so strongly. That kiss had been a terrible mistake. He didn’t know what in the hell he’d been thinking.
If it had just been her appearance, he could handle it. She was certainly attractive, but it was her interest in everyone and everything that drew him to her. She was challenging, and he was at a point in his life where he needed that.
In the past two years, he’d had physical challenges, but no men to lead, no battle plans to draw, no logistics problems to solve, no angry exchanges with counterparts in Afghanistan and Syria and Iraq.
She’d brought that part of him alive again. It was a gift, and he should accept it during the next few days before she left for new adventures.
And she would leave. He saw the restlessness in her. She didn’t seem to have any real ties anywhere and was happy that way. He, on the other hand, was tired. Years of being deployed over what seemed half the world had dulled his adventurist side.
Dammit! He didn’t know what the hell he wanted in the future. He wasn’t excited about any of the post-military options he was exploring right now.
He closed his eyes. The swim had exhausted his body, and reviewing the stack of materials sated his mind. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.
* * *
JENNY WAS AT the door of the inn at ten minutes to eight. She’d paid her bill and gulped down two cups of coffee and two cinnamon rolls. There seemed to be more than enough for the patrons, so she took two more for Travis.
Travis drove up about three minutes to eight. Before he got out, she threw her belongings into the back seat and stepped into the front passenger seat.
“Good morning,” she said as she fastened her seat belt.
“You travel lighter than any woman I’ve ever known.”
“How many have you known?”
“Enough to know you’re an oddity.” He started the car.
“Did you have breakfast?” Jenny asked.
“Are you hungry already?”
“Nope, but I brought you two of the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted.”
He held out a hand to take one.
“You’re welcome,” she said as she put a napkin-wrapped roll in his hand.
“Thank you,” he replied a little too politely.
He took a bite and then sighed happily. “How did I not hear about these?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m pretty great at ferreting out good food. You’re lucky to have me along.”
He took his gaze from the road and gave her that slow smile that was beginning to melt something inside her. “We’ll see about that,” he said.
“Grumpy this morning, are we?”
“The cinnamon rolls are easing the condition.”
“Will I have to provide them every morning?”
“Might work,” he replied as he drove out of Covenant Falls. “There’s a map in the glove compartment if you want to navigate.”
“You don’t have a GPS?” She felt a growing happiness. She thoroughly enjoyed fencing with him. He stimulated her in a way nothing had since her return to the United States.
“The rental company didn’t have an available car with one. Besides, I don’t like an electronic device telling me where to go and scolding me when I decide to deviate.”
She stared at him. She hadn’t expected that. He appeared to be so organized. But now he sounded...like her. She’d thought every mile would have been mapped out.
“Can we take some back roads?” she asked.
“Why not? We have the time since I’m leaving a day sooner than I expected.”
“You were trying to avoid me,” she accused.
“Thought about it,” he admitted with disarming honesty. “It obviously didn’t work.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Jubal thought you might be of some help.”
“Only Jubal?”
He just smiled and changed the subject. “We’ll take Interstate 25 until we reach New Mexico, but after that, you can guide.”
“I can pick the route?”
“Unless it takes us to Alaska.”
“I think I can avoid that,” she said, charmed by his banter. She had seen some of it on the drive from the airport to Covenant Falls, but since then he’d been mostly polite and businesslike.
“As long as we’re in Fort Hood by 11:00 a.m. on Tuesday,” he responded.
She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a map. “Before or after we hit the state line,” she said, spreading it out, “maybe we can find a welcome center with more maps and information. I like out-of-the-way places and hole-in-the-wall local eateries.”
She wondered if she wasn’t being a bit presumptuous, but he simply nodded. She had thought he might be stiff at first, but he wasn’t. He was treating her like a partner. Maybe not welcomed with open arms, but neither was there the earlier reluctance.
“When you’re finished with the map, there’s a binder and several books in the back seat. The binder includes information on each of the programs we’ll visit, along with stuff about other equine therapy programs in the country. There’s also a few books on equine therapy and a list of questions I have for Dr. Payne. You might want to add some questions of your own after reading everything.”
She placed the map on the divider and twisted her body around as much as possible while held captive by the seat belt. She noticed it was a very fat binder. Three books were positioned next to it.
“No laptop?” she observed.
“I have one but I don’t like to use it when talking to people. It puts a wall between us. You can’t look them in the eyes. I prefer notes.”
That was interesting. She worked in the same way. She wondered why he hadn’t already planned every mile and stop on the trip. If the thickness of the binder was any indication of his preciseness, would he not have spent time on routing the trip?
Maybe he had. Maybe he’d planned the route down to the last mile. Then the question was why he’d tasked her with it. Because he wanted to keep her too busy for conversation? Or was it some kind of test? If it were the latter, he might be in for a few surprises.
She looked at the map and selected several sites that interested her. The first was Raton Pass, which was located just over the New Mexico border. She couldn’t remember hearing anything about it, just as she hadn’t about Covenant Falls, but the name fascinated her. She now had a renewed interest in small towns.
She guessed they would get there by about eleven. She took out her cell phone and looked it up. As she read the information, she could barely keep a smile to herself.
“Have you ever heard of Raton Pass?” she asked.
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“Neither have I. It’s just over the border. Might be a good place to stop for lunch.”
“It will be a little early for lunch,” he observed.
“I’ll be hungry.”
“Are you always hungry?”
“It would seem so,” she said. “But you do pretty well yourself. And anyway, you appointed me cruise director. It’s a duty I take seriously.”
“Is there something in Raton Pass I should know about?” he asked.
“It’s a mountain pass that was part of the Santa Fe Trail,” she said, grateful her cell had service. “Pioneers journeying west, raids by Native Americans, Civil War skullduggery. It was laid out in 1821 and apparently played an important role in Western history. The town has historic buildings, including a theater and hotel. Also distinguishing the town, apparently, is a hat cemetery.”
Travis glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “A hat cemetery?”
“I thought that might get your attention. It’s right there on the website.” She couldn’t stop a giggle. She never giggled, but his expression just plain earned one. “In my travels,” she continued, “I thought I had heard or seen most everything. I wrote a story on a hat museum in Europe, but a cemetery? The town sounds as interesting as Covenant Falls.”
She paused for a minute. Then she mused aloud, “Maybe I can do a series on the country’s most fascinating small towns. There’s Covenant Falls and now Raton Pass. It has everything. History, location, oddities.”
“Including the hat cemetery,” Travis said drily. “Absolutely a must stop.”
“You are not sharing my enthusiasm,” she retorted, “and thirst for knowledge.”
He chuckled. It was a nice sound, one she wished she heard more often. “I hope,” he replied, “you are not expecting me to stop at every small town along the way to discover their eccentricities.”
“Maybe not every one,” she agreed.
“That’s comforting.”
He was in a good mood. Jenny decided to take advantage of it. “You told me your father was a farmer. Did you live in a small town?”
“Pretty small.”
“In the Midwest?”
“Yes.”
“Did it have any eccentricities?”
“Nope, not a single one.”
“And no family at all back there?”
“No.”
She noticed his lips tightening. She told herself to stop, but that reporter part of her didn’t want to quit. It was, she knew, a very obnoxious part of her.
But still she couldn’t stop herself from asking one last question. “And no one else?”
“Just the army,” he replied. The tone did not invite further intrusion.
Jenny let some time pass while she watched the scenery. They were driving through grasslands now, and she saw an occasional ranch. She checked out the towns ahead of them on her phone: Trinidad and Walsenburg. The latter was the size of Covenant Falls and apparently had some infamy. Robert Ford, the assassin of Jesse James, operated a saloon and gambling house there.
She didn’t want to press her luck with Travis, though. She didn’t know whether he shared her fascination with history. Rather than mentioning it, she added its name to her phone app as deserving of a visit sometime in the future. Maybe even in a possible series about small towns.
After a few moments, she announced a town was coming up if he wanted to stop for any reason.
“Not unless you do,” he replied.
“If we stop, I could reach in back and get your binder.”
He seemed to slowly relax. “I prefer the cruise director at the moment. What else is there in Raton Pass except a hat cemetery?”
Obviously he wanted to keep the conversation inpersonal. She complied. “Ghosts.”
He glanced at her and smiled. “Oh, great,” he said. “That’s even better than a hat cemetery. Maybe there’s even hat ghosts.”
“I take it you’re reconciled to stopping there for lunch,” she said, enchanted by the unexpected humor that could be as wacky as her own.
“I have to admit I have some curiosity. Find any other irresistible small towns?”
“I’ve just started...” She paused and then continued, thinking out loud. “I haven’t even looked, and I found one, probably two. There has to be many others.”
She realized she was getting on her soapbox. That was something she did when a new project started dancing around in her head. Ideas just started popping out. She could bore people for hours.
“That mind of yours never stops, does it?” Travis said.
He got her. He understood her. But she didn’t know if he accepted her. She was a tumbleweed. Was born that way. She didn’t need anyone, didn’t want to need anyone, because, in her experience, it meant being trapped. Her mother was trapped in alcohol, her sisters in bad marriages—Lenore had only recently gained her independence.
“I hope not,” she answered.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he observed.
“What about you?” Jenny asked. “What are you going to do when this study is finished?”
He shrugged. “I’m still working on that.”
“You’re really good with Nick. Not to mention Danny. I can tell he thinks you walk on water.”
“It’s very shallow water,” he said.
She didn’t reply to that. The conversation had veered into a heavy direction and to questions she sensed neither of them wanted nor knew how to answer. That now familiar electricity filled the car. It had nothing to do with weather and everything to do with the attraction sparking between them.
Jenny needed a diversion. She checked the map again. They had just passed Walsenburg. The interstate started climbing, and they were entering the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.
She stopped talking as they continued up to the pass and spied a New Mexico welcome center. Travis parked and they got out, stretched and looked at the incredible views around them. Mountains. Green forests. A royal blue lake.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jenny said in an awed voice. The rich colors captured her imagination. She could almost see wagon trains winding their way through the steep pass.
He nodded and followed her into the center, where she grabbed all the information she could find. She noticed that his limp was more pronounced than usual and knew it was a good thing to stop.
The town of Raton was off the interstate and seven miles or so out of the way. Without comment, Travis turned.
Jenny was even more delighted than she’d imagined as they drove to the town center, past stores with names like Little Bear Gallery and Santa Fe Traders. There was a historical theater built in 1939 by the WPA that drew visits from the San Francisco Opera and The Three Tenors.
They found the hat cemetery in a Western wear store. When anyone bought a new hat, they could donate their old one to the cemetery. Each hat received a name tag and some had attached histories of their prior owners.
Jenny was enchanted, and Travis was patient. It was 1:00 p.m. before they found a barbecue restaurant and ate lunch.
They walked back to the car. Jenny left a few purchases in the back seat and grabbed the binder. When Travis was inside, she hugged the book and said, “Thank you for indulging me.”
“I needed to stretch my leg,” he replied. Then he added with a slight smile, “and I’ve never seen a hat cemetery before.”