TRAVIS WARNED HER it was a long drive with few places to stop.
He was right.
The traffic going in and out of the park Monday morning was not nearly as bad as it had been coming in. Travis drove for an hour, and then he stopped at a gas station, where he filled up the gas tank and ordered two large coffees to go. Food choices were limited.
Neither had eaten breakfast. Hunger made them choose overcooked hot dogs—one each for the humans and one for Anna—and they were back on the road.
Jenny was sleepy and had to force herself to stay awake. Travis turned on the radio, but there were only a few channels available, mostly country and talk. While Jenny liked country once in a while, a steady diet grew old fast.
But the noise kept them alert. She’d put Anna in the dog car carrier so she could follow the map while she sought to discover more about Travis. Particularly his family, because he’d said so little about them.
“Eve said you played baseball in college,” she said. “Where did you go?”
“The state university. Baseball isn’t nearly as big as football, but it had a good overall sports program.”
“And you were a pitcher?”
“Yeah. Not good enough for the majors, and I knew it. But I liked sports, and it was a field that interested me. I wasn’t cut out to be a businessman, or engineer or manager who is in an office every day.”
“And yet you turned out to be some of all three, unless I’m wrong about the role of a Ranger officer.”
He looked sheepish. “I guess you’re right.”
She plunged and asked the big one. “What about family?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. She thought he wouldn’t, that she shouldn’t have pried, but then they’d seemed to be beyond that now. She wanted to know what made him who he was today.
He shrugged. “I told you my father had a farm. It had been in the family for nearly a hundred years. Farming was his life, and his goal in life was to ensure that the farm remained in the Hammond family. After I was born, my mother had two stillbirths, but my father demanded she keep trying. He wanted sons in the plural—mainly, I think, because he recognized that I wasn’t at all interested in farming.” Jenny saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he continued.
“Mom became pregnant again. She was older then, in her forties, and she died in childbirth. But she gave my father what he wanted, my brother, Adam.
“My father and I fought from the time I was little, but it became worse after my mother died. I don’t think I ever forgave him for my mother. I blamed her death on him. I thought he was sacrificing us for a way of life that was dying. It was work dawn to dusk, with barely enough money to pay the bills. The land was worn out. He couldn’t let himself see it.”
His voice turned hollow as he continued. “As much as I hated the farm, I loved sports. Dad thought I should work the farm and wouldn’t sign the necessary papers for me to play high school baseball. I made a bargain with him. I would work early in the morning and late in the evening, but the afternoons were mine. That’s when I practiced baseball.
“It worked for a while, but Dad was increasingly demanding. He was losing control, and he knew it.”
Jenny interrupted. “You don’t have to...”
“Yes I do,” he replied. “I’ve never talked about it before. Maybe it’s time.” Still, he hesitated before continuing. “Adam was getting old enough to work on the farm. He was ten when I was eighteen and he loved working with the animals and growing things. He would offer to do some of my work for me, and I took advantage of it. He was a good kid.”
The tone of his voice changed. “I did get two scholarship offers, one in my home state and one at a university two states away. I took the one two states away. The farther I could get from the farm, the happier I was.
“I had a lot of reasons not to go home. In addition to academics and baseball, I volunteered with an inner city Little League team and had a part-time job with a youth center. It meant I didn’t go home which was okay. I wasn’t welcome there.”
He glanced at her, and she nodded for him to continue.
“I finished with a bachelor’s degree in sports management, but I needed a master’s. I wanted to go into the athletic management on the college level. Then Nine-Eleven happened and I went into the Officers Candidate School, then Ranger training.
“Adam and I had kept in touch through letters mailed to a friend of his. Two days after his high school graduation, he enlisted. He hadn’t asked me about enlisting, or talked to me about it, maybe because he feared I would argue him out of it. He applied to Ranger School, made it through and was sent to Iraq. He was killed in his fourth month there. I heard it happened when he was trying to help some Iraqi kids.
“My father blamed me. He basically disowned me. I tried to call after Adam’s death, but he always hung up on me. One time I visited, and he wouldn’t open the door.
“He died three years later of a heart attack, after losing the farm to the bank. He never told me he was in financial trouble. If he had, I would have helped him.”
There was such sadness in the last sentences, she almost cried. It was obvious he blamed himself for both deaths.
She reached over and touched his hand on the wheel. “Adam must have been one heck of a kid.”
“He was.”
“Is that why you’re looking after Danny?”
He looked startled for a moment, and then he nodded. “I wasn’t aware of it, but yeah, maybe.”
They lapsed into silence then. He turned the radio up.
It explained a lot about him. About why he hadn’t mentioned his family, why he’d been so good with Nick and other kids he’d spoken with on the trip, why he’d basically adopted Danny. Had Josh known about his family, or had he just recognized someone who cared about other people? Was that why he’d enlisted him in this project?
She rested a hand on his leg. She wanted to do more, to let him know she understood.
It was time, she thought, to share her own insecurities. She wanted him to know why she’d felt such a need for independence. They were at a point now, she knew, to either break apart clean or explore a future that could forever change their lives. Were either of them ready for that?
She only knew she’d never been happier. She would be a fool to throw it away because of fear. But could she merge a life with Travis and her instinct to run to the nearest story?
She was jumping ahead of herself. He’d never said anything about a life beyond this week. Sure, the past week had been terrific. But would it be enough for her? Or Travis?
She decided to be honest. “We have something in common,” she said. “A difficult father. Mine also wanted me to be something I wasn’t, never could be. Women, in his world, were obedient wives and daughters. From the day I was born, he resented me. My sisters—both of them—were tall and blond and obedient, at least until lately. They were popular, ran with the right crowd and married men in the same class, and of the same stripe, as my father. I was a skinny redhead, rebellious and fought with him until I left after high school. I put myself through college with scholarships and part-time jobs.”
“Your mother?”
“A pretty woman who drinks too much and is afraid to say no to him. He’s often away, and I’m sure—and I think Mother is, too—that he’s having affairs. He expects her to entertain grandly, and when everything in’t perfect, he doesn’t take it well.
“The house was never happy, although I think my older sisters were oblivious. They were cheerleaders, popular among the affluent community. I’ve heard daughters often marry men like their fathers. They did. Successful, charming men who didn’t want partners but a useful wife who stayed at home and didn’t complain when they had affairs.
“But I was always different,” she continue. “I escaped into books, and I had this intense curiosity that drove my father nuts. I was always disappearing into the local library.”
Travis was silent but his right hand left the steering wheel and covered hers for a moment before returning to the wheel.
She put her hand on his leg. “After I was released from the hospital, I was pretty helpless. My mother insisted I stay with them. My father was gone most of the time—he had an apartment in San Francisco where the corporate headquarters is located. He’s head of the firm’s central region. He could be very charming when he wanted something.”
She hesitated.
“Go on,” he urged her.
“I stayed there because Mother wanted it, but as soon as I was well enough to do things on my own, I moved in with my sister, Lenore, and her daughter, Charlie, whom I adore.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know. The call that came while we were on the way to the Grand Canyon? It was from the executive editor of one of the news services I worked with.”
“And?”
“And I haven’t called back.”
He smiled. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It’s not,” she said. “But he wouldn’t call to fire me, since I’m not an employee. I’m an independent contractor.”
“You think he wants you to go back?”
“Maybe. Part of me wants to return. I want to know what happened in Aleppo the day I was injured, but in the past few days, I’ve learned there are other important stories to tell.”
She paused, and then she added, “I thought telling war stories was important. I’m learning it’s just as important—no, more important—to tell the stories of people who make a difference. I’ve seen so much in the past few days I want to write about. Not only the places, but the people. People like Karen and Dr. Payne and the ranchers who are pouring their hearts and souls into programs to help veterans.
“Then there’s Covenant Falls and the woman doctor who chose to work in a small town, and Stephanie, who goes out in the worse possible weather with search and rescue dogs to find lost people. I haven’t met her yet, but I want to. People like Jubal and Eve and the others we met this past week. I’d forgotten how generous people could be.”
She was afraid she sounded like she was on a soapbox, but ideas were running rampant in her mind, had been for the past week. “People need to read about those stories, as well as the bad,” she continued slowly, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t realize how writing about conflicts and the resulting damage was eating into my soul, until I saw the Grand Canyon.
“Even sadder,” she added, “I can’t remember when I last laughed before meeting you. I can’t stop smiling now, and I want my words to bring smiles, not tears.”
She took a long breath.
“Don’t stop now,” he said. “I like the direction you’re taking.”
“I just know I want to watch hundreds of sunrises with you, and I want to dance with you in the rain, even if awkwardly. I want to watch you on the athletic field with kids who think you’re wonderful.”
“Wow. All of that,” he said with that lopsided smile. “That’s kind of a big order.”
“You think it’s too much?” she said worriedly.
He burst out laughing. “It’s one hell of a list. But after watching you in action this past week, I don’t think anything is impossible.”
She looked at him, wondering if he was understanding what she was saying.
They were on a straight slice of road, and he reached out for her hand and put his over it. “I think it’s a terrific list.”
The car started to wander to the left, and he grabbed the wheel with both hands again.
Jenny’s breath caught. The bottom fell out of her stomach, but she tried to make light of it. “Just think?” she asked.
“Pretty sure,” he added, “but I’m not sure this is the place to discuss it.”
“I’ll wait,” she said and put her hand on his leg. “When is the next stop?”
“You’re very forward, aren’t you?” he teased.
“It’s better than not being forward enough,” she replied.
“Point taken.”
They reached Durango and grabbed a quick lunch. While he was getting gas, she called David.
His hearty voice greeted her. “Your sister said you’re doing better. Well enough to go back?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
“I have an offer for you,” he said. “Full-time war correspondent. I keep getting calls from newspapers wanting your stuff.”
It had been what she wanted these past years. What she had worked for. She looked back at Travis. He was replacing the gas cap. The sun glinted on his hair, turning it to gold. She thought about those warm hazel eyes that smiled. She hesitated.
“I have other news,” David said. “Rick returned to Syria, found a doctor from the medical unit present when you were injured. He told me how affected you were about a child...that you kept asking about her. Well, apparently, she survived. She’s in a refugee camp in Jordan.” He paused. “Now what about that job?”
“Did he get the name?” she asked, ignoring his question. “Does she have any family left?”
“Apparently she does. You’ll have to contact Rick for more information. Now about that job...”
She swallowed hard. “I’m not going back,” she said. “But I have an idea...several actually. I’ll send them to you.” She hung up before he could say anything.
The girl was safe. That was what was important. She couldn’t wait to tell Travis. But she would wait. Until tonight.
* * *
IT WAS 9:00 P.M. before they finally drove up to Josh’s cabin. They’d stopped twice more, each time staying no longer than fifteen minutes. They had been in the car twelve straight hours and hadn’t killed each other. It was a good sign.
He’d asked whether she wanted to go to the inn, and she looked at him as if he’d just turned green. “No,” she said. “I texted that I wouldn’t arrive tonight.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Taking things for granted, are you?”
“I think Susan would be happy if I changed my mind.” She teased.
“No way, woman.”
He unlocked the door, walked Anna inside, sprawled wearily on the huge sofa and patted the seat next to him. Before she could take it, Anna jumped up and settled next to him.
“That’s my place,” Jenny said to Anna as she set the dog on the floor. “You have to wait your turn.”
“It’s nice to be fought over,” Travis said. “What about joint custody?” he shot back.
It took her a minute to realize what he meant. Or did he mean what she thought it meant? For a moment, she panicked.
“Joint custody?” she finally asked.
“We share her,” he said patiently. “But you’ll have to move to Covenant Falls.”
“What about you?”
“I called Josh a few nights ago and asked if he knew of any available jobs in the area. I want to see Jubal’s program through.”
“And?” she asked, holding her breath.
“Damn if he wasn’t way ahead of me.” He held out his hand and pulled her down next to him. “There’s a vacancy coming up at the high school. A coaching job. The current coach had a good offer at a larger school but hadn’t wanted to leave until the season is over. Josh mentioned I might be available, and he said there was instant enthusiasm. Apparently I’m qualified to be a coach now on a provisional basis, and I can teach once I get a teacher’s certificate. I can do most of that online.”
“You’re a shoo-in,” she said. “What school wouldn’t want a former Ranger heading their athletics? Talk about keeping kids in line. And isn’t it what you always wanted to do?”
“It’s not a certainty,” he warned.
“Ha!” she said. “I’ve known Josh Manning long enough to know he wouldn’t have brought it up if it wasn’t a done deal. His wife is mayor after all.”
“A lot depends on you,” he said. “And that list of yours, especially the part about watching sunrises and dancing in the rain even if I am a bit clumsy. Would you consider making Covenant Falls your base?”
“My base?”
“I wouldn’t expect to tame that roaming spirit of yours, nor would I want to. It’s who you are, but maybe you can make this your home base. I’ve seen enough people send their spouses off. I know how to make it work.” He paused, and then he added, “Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to lose you.”
“Spouse. That’s a scary word.”
“I didn’t think anything scared you.”
“You might just have found the one thing that would,” she said. “But I think losing you is even scarier. And I certainly don’t want to get into a custody battle over Anna.”
She held onto his hand. “I talked to the editor of the news service I’ve been working with,” she said suddenly. “While you were getting gas.”
He stilled. “And?”
“He wanted to give me a full-time job overseas. I said no. I want to stay here in the States and tell happier stories. Because of you. You made me see them and how important they are.”
“Another thing...” she added.
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“The girl I told you about. She’s alive. She’s in a refugee camp. Maybe...”
He nodded. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Maybe he always had... He kissed the tip of her nose. “Have I told you that you have a big heart.” His hand caressed her cheek before adding, “Along with a very nice nose, fantastic eyes and a thoroughly kissable mouth?”
“Nope. Not yet,” she replied. “Has anyone told you that you are a superb kisser, an extremely nice man...”
“Ouch,” he said. “That’s the kiss of death.”
“Be quiet, I didn’t finish,” she scolded. “You’re also the sexiest man and...”
“Have I...?”
“Be quiet,” she said and leaned over and gave him a kiss that told him everything he wanted to know.