A Soldier's Journey (12 page)

She gave them a five-dollar bill and asked, “Any rules?”

“Nope. Dealer picks the game. Ante up a nickel,” Josh said from his seat next to Nate's. “Andy, as our newcomer, is dealer.”

“Mexican stud,” she said.

“Ah...could we have a ringer here?” Josh said.

She won the first game.

The players saluted her with their beers and the dealer changed.

* * *

S
HE
HAD
DONE
IT
!
She had played poker without breaking down. She had stayed in the present; she hadn't had a blackout or flashback. Mexican stud had been Jared's favorite game. She thought he would be proud of her tonight.

“Andy?”

She looked up and met Nate's gaze. He winked at her. Pleasure spread through her, then confusion. She looked down at her cards.

They played for another hour. Andy won more than she lost, and her jar was heavier when they quit. There was good-natured grumbling.

They quit and watched the baseball game from Denver until it was over. It was late, and everyone started to leave. They all stopped to tell her how happy they were to have a new veteran in town, especially “another poker player,” and if she needed anything to call one of them. She felt bundled in care as Nate walked her to the car. “Thank you for pushing me to go,” she told him. “It was good.”

“They're probably wondering why I brought a card shark,” he said with that wry smile that was becoming more endearing. “You play a mean game of poker.”

“I used to play a lot in Afghanistan,” she replied. It didn't hurt as much to say it now.

They reached her Bucket. “So how was your visit with Al Monroe?” he asked.

“I went to see him at his office, and he invited me to dinner.”

“I'll be damned,” he said.

“I hope not,” she said with a smile. “He and his wife are going to help with the history.” She couldn't keep a note of triumph from her voice.

He put a hand to her cheek in a gesture of tenderness. “You're one gutsy lady,” he said. Then he opened the door. Joseph jumped in and moved to the passenger's seat and then she slid inside.

Nate closed the car door as she settled into the seat. Then he stood back as she started the car and drove off. She looked back as she turned onto Lake Road. He was still standing there.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A
NDY
WOKE
UP
the next morning after a rare good night's sleep. The sun streamed through the window. Joseph burrowed next to her and raised his head the instant she stirred.

She scratched his ears. Why had she been so reluctant to own a dog?

She stretched out. Yesterday's meeting with Al had been good, and the poker game was fun. Two successes. Two huge successes.

That didn't mean the end of flashbacks or nightmares, she knew, but a brief reprieve was certainly welcome. She had tapered off her meds and stopped using them altogether.

She had another challenge now. Apprehension crept into her about the upcoming meeting with Sara Monroe. She was out of her element. Everyone seemed to have expectations she couldn't possibly meet.

“Okay, Joseph,” she said. “We should get moving. We have things to do today. First a shower,” she added, as Joseph's ears went up.

The water felt good, sensual even. She hadn't even thought that word for a long time. She shampooed her hair, although it was difficult working mostly with one hand, then she soaped her body, turning the water as hot as she could bear. When she stepped out, she noted that Joseph had not moved from his watchdog position.

“Just a few more minutes,” she promised as she glanced through her slim belongings in the closet.

A trip to the general store was in order. They might have clothes. She didn't like the idea of a T-shirt and jeans in the Monroes' elegant house.

She mentally planned the day as she made coffee and toast for herself and prepared dog food for Joseph. At least now she
had
something to plan. Breakfast and a walk, then a visit to the community center before her meeting. A stop at the general store for clothes. She thought about calling Eve to tell her about yesterday's conversation with Al Monroe and his wife, but decided to wait until after today's visit with Sara Monroe.

She liked Eve, was here because of her husband's cabin, but she also liked Al and Sara Monroe. She had no intention of being manipulated by either camp, but it might mean walking a very thin line.

Or she could just walk away. That was probably the route she would have chosen a month ago.

Not today. She'd agreed to write a short history, such as it might be, and to her surprise she really wanted to do it.

Not so much, however, that she was going to use Mrs. Monroe, who looked as fragile as a leaf. She would not write anything she didn't have permission to use.

After breakfast, she decided to scrap the usual hike up the mountain in lieu of a run with Joseph. She really hadn't explored town yet, and everyone assured her she could take Joseph almost anywhere.

* * *

N
ATE
CONCENTRATED
AS
he tore out the rotten boards on Mrs. Byars's porch. He straddled the ladder and handed another rotting board down to Jim Carter, a man who often worked with him.

The porch was a disaster waiting to happen. Mrs. Byars had nearly fallen through the floor several days earlier and had asked him to look at it. The porch was an addition and not a well-constructed one. The flooring would have to be replaced, but the ceiling above was in even worse shape; he wanted to replace the boards before the roof caved in, especially since rain was possible later in the day. That meant stabilizing the roof first.

He was only too aware that Andy Stuart lived two doors down. He had tamped down the impulse to drive over there before starting at Mrs. Byars's house. He was proud he'd managed some restraint. Damn, but he hadn't been able to get her off his mind.

She'd looked irresistible as she won repeatedly at poker. The challenge of competition made those gray eyes sparkle even as she kept a poker face during the game. The victory was transparently sweet to her.

The mere memory of her smile made him ache with wanting. He'd basically been a monk since he'd moved back to Covenant Falls. He loved the mountains and the people here but, dammit, everyone seemed to be getting on with life, with the exception of one Nate Rowland. He hadn't admitted, even to himself, that he was lonely.

The only woman who had interested him since his divorce was just a few houses down, and he was acting like a besotted high school kid, yearning after the girl he couldn't have. She was definitely off-limits. Since her flashback at Josh's house, he'd felt responsible for her, which was probably the dumbest thing he could do.

She was also here temporarily, and she was still mourning the loss of her fiancé. She was vulnerable, and he would be a true bastard to take advantage. Her only spontaneous smile had been last night and even that had disappeared all too quickly.

Nor was he in a position to even ask for a date. His ex-wife had done her best to send him into bankruptcy before announcing she was in love with someone else. She had lied to him about being pregnant, about wanting a family and about nearly everything else. His trust level these days was a little below zero.

He tried to convince himself that his interest in Andy was concern over another veteran. And his wanting to see her was only because he was curious about what happened at the Monroe home yesterday.

He pulled another board from the ceiling framework and started to hand it to Jim. Through the corner of his eyes, he saw Mrs. Byars approach with a tray. Jim backed up to let her by and bumped into the ladder, which started to tumble. Nate grabbed an overhead brace. The rotted wood gave under his weight and he fell, crashing into the ladder and down through the porch flooring...

* * *

A
NDY
AND
J
OSEPH
had started to jog from her cottage when she heard a crash and a shout. Something about it raised the hackles on her neck.

Instinct took over. She ran in the direction of the sound just as a woman rushed out of the house toward her.

“Miss Stuart,” the woman called as she approached Andy. “I heard you were a nurse. Please help. Nathan Rowland just fell while working on my porch. I think he might be hurt bad.”

Andy didn't stop to think. “Where is he? Have you called the doctor or medical service?”

“There's just Dr. Bradley. Jim, Nate's helper, called his office while I hoped to find you. Nathan is in the back. He's unconscious and bleeding.”

Andy ran alongside the house until she saw the porch and entered through the open door. Nate was lying there, one foot sticking down into a hole on the floor. She knelt next to him. His breathing wasn't labored, but he was unconscious. Blood dribbled from an injury on the back of his head. Then she saw blood pouring from a jagged wound on his leg where it went through the floor.

She stared at it. Saw it spreading. The world turned red, started spinning... She felt herself trembling.

“Miss Stuart!”

The sound of her name dragged her back.
Nate. It's Nate. Don't lose it now. Stop the bleeding first!

She looked at the young man standing next to her. “What's your name?” she asked.

“Carter, Jim Carter. It was my fault.”

“No time for that. We need to stabilize his neck first. Mrs. Byars, hold his head as still as possible while Jim and I get him out of the hole.”

She waited while Mrs. Byars slowly, awkwardly, sat on the floor and held Nate's head, then Andy turned to Jim Carter. “Give me your belt and then pull out the boards around that foot so we can get his leg out without more damage.”

Before she finished the sentence, the young man took off his belt and handed it to her, then grabbed a crowbar from a large tool chest and carefully inserted it into the hole. A board came up, then another.

Andy put both arms under Nate's shoulders and used her upper-body strength rather than her hands to nudge him inch by inch away from the hole as Jim carefully eased Nate's foot out. His pant leg was drenched in blood.

“A knife?” she asked Jim.

He pulled out a pocketknife and handed it to her. She took it and cut the leg of his jeans away, revealing a large gash just above his ankle.

She examined it. “A vein,” she said. “Not an artery, thank God, or there would be even more blood. Now help me get the belt around his leg. My left hand...”

Her helper lifted the leg slightly and her right hand worked his belt under it. She managed to slip the end into the buckle and pull it tight. Dammit, she needed more help.

She looked at Mrs. Byars, who was still holding Nate's head. “Let Jim take over from you. I need bandages, towels and water,” she said. “And any antiseptic you have. As fast as you can...”

She watched as Jim helped Mrs. Byars up and then sat down next to Nate, carefully following directions.

Then the older woman returned, her hands full of towels and bandages, including a large roll of adhesive bandaging. With her help, Andy made a pressure bandage for Nate's leg. Then she looked at his head. There was a wicked-looking cut but it didn't seem deep. The fact that he was unconscious, though, meant he probably had a concussion. She wanted a CT scan.

“We need to get him to a hospital or clinic,” she said as she checked the rest of him. Plenty of bruises but nothing that seemed life threatening. But the fact he was still unconscious worried her.

Mrs. Byars spoke up then. “I think our best bet is Stephanie Phillips. She has a van and she's a veterinarian. I called Dr. Bradley's office and talked to his nurse. He's at the hospital in Pueblo now with a patient.”

“Can you call Stephanie?” Andy asked.

“Of course. I'm so glad you're here,” Mrs. Byars said. She punched numbers into her phone and made a hurried explanation when Stephanie apparently answered. “She's on her way,” Mrs. Byars said when she clicked off.

Andy turned to Jim. “While we wait, can you make a stretcher out of those boards?”

“I can do that,” Jim said, “and I'll call some friends to help carry him.” He stood, made several calls on his phone, then lined up three fresh boards next to one another. He sawed a fourth one into three parts. He quickly nailed each of the three smaller sections crosswise to the full boards. He then made four handles from another piece of wood and nailed them to the bottom of the stretcher.

“Miss Stuart?” Mrs. Byars's concerned voice broke through the sudden panic. “What can I do now?”

“Try to reach your doctor in Pueblo again. Tell whoever answers that it's an emergency. A head wound is involved, and he's unconscious.” She paused, then added, “I want to talk to him.”

Mrs. Byars nodded, tears in her eyes. “I'll do that.”

While Mrs. Byars called the hospital, Andy loosened the pressure bandage.

What worried her most was that Nate hadn't uttered a sound or made a move. When he did wake, there would be a lot of pain.

“Dr. Bradley's nurse reached him,” Mrs. Byars said. “He should be calling now.” The phone rang. Mrs. Byars answered it and then passed it to her.

Andy quickly told the doctor about the injuries, emphasizing the fact he hadn't regained consciousness.

Nate moved, then groaned. His eyes flickered open. He tried to lift his head, but she leaned down, putting her fingers over his mouth. “Don't move, Nate. You've had a bad fall.” Then she was back with the doctor. “He's awake.”

“Andy...” Nate said hoarsely.

His head fell back. The doctor was still on the line. “He fell back into unconsciousness,” she told him.

“Any other injuries?” the doctor asked.

“A jagged tear on his leg. He was bleeding heavily. I put a pressure bandage on it. I loosened it when the bleeding slowed, but he's lost a lot of blood. His ankle could be injured. He fell through some flooring and it looked as if it might have turned. I didn't want to take off his boot to check it. But it's the head injury that worries me.”

“Back and spine?” Dr. Bradley said.

“I can't tell,” she said. “We're keeping him flat just in case.”

“Can someone transport him? I could check to see if a chopper is available, but that might take some time.”

“I understand Stephanie is on the way with her van.”

“Good. She keeps that van spotless.”

“He might have a seizure,” she said, expressing her worst fear.

“You're a nurse, right?” he said abruptly. “You'll know what to do.”

She wanted to say she was no longer sure of that. She was terrified she might have another flashback.

“You
are
coming with him?” Dr. Bradley asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, he's lucky to have you there,” the doctor said. “I'll be waiting for you. I'll have the right people here.” He hung up.

The phone rang. Mrs. Byars answered it. “Stephanie, I'm so glad you called. Here's Miss Stuart.”

Andy took the phone again.

“Stephanie here,” said the voice. “I'll be there in five minutes. We'll need a board for him. All mine are dog size.”

“Jim Carter made a temporary one.”

“Good. We'll need a couple of strong hands to help,” Stephanie said.

“Jim Carter has also taken care of that,” Andy said, amazed at how everything was coming together.

Stephanie heard her. “Okay,” she said and hung up.

Just then two sturdy men, one older, one younger, appeared at the door of the porch. Mrs. Byars introduced them. “Father and son. Craig and Blake Stokes. They're both members of the volunteer fire department.”

“Hate to meet you under these circumstances,” the older one said. “I'm Craig, and this is Blake. “We were at his son's scout meeting last night or we would have been at the vet meeting.” He turned and looked at Nate. His face creased with concern. “Sorry to hear about this. Nate's one of the good guys.”

They heard a screech of brakes outside. “That's Stephanie,” Craig said. “Let's get him in the van.”