Читать книгу The Wyoming Cowboy - Rebecca Winters - Страница 10
ОглавлениеChapter One
MARCH 1
Pulmonary Unit
Walter Reed National Military Medical Center Bethesda, Maryland
Carson Lundgren was sitting in the hospital ward’s common room watching the final moments of the NASCAR race when he heard a disturbance. Annoyed, he turned his head to see Dr. Rimer passing out a document to the eight vets assembled. What in blazes was going on?
“Ray? You’re closest to the TV. Would you mind shutting it off?”
Ray nodded and put an end to one of the few distractions the men looked forward to.
“Thank you. You’ll all be going home tomorrow, so I urge you gentlemen to read this and take what you can from it to heart. It’s a good letter written by a former serviceman. I like a lot of things it says. While you’re doing that, I’ll go find our special guest and bring him in.”
Special guest?
The guys eyed each other with resignation. Who knew how long this would take? They were all anxious to watch the end of the race. Carson looked down to scan the page.
Consider how different and difficult it is to go from a life of service, where every day has a mission, and someone depends on you to make life-and-death decisions, to a life with civilians who are making decisions about what client to call back first or what is the best outfit to wear to work.
Life would be different, all right. In Carson’s case he didn’t need to worry about choosing the proper clothes. He was going back to his Wyoming ranch, where a shirt and jeans had been his uniform before he’d signed up for the Marines. It would be his uniform again, now that he was out of the service.
In the beginning it feels as if you are so much more experienced than the people around you, and in a lot of ways you are. But that kind of thinking will only further alienate you from others. Practicing humility is the best possible advice I can give to help with reintegration into civilian life.
Carson did feel more “experienced.” He’d seen things in the war that he could never explain to people who hadn’t gone through the same thing.
Veterans need to recognize that even a short tour in a combat zone can have an effect on them. While it takes everyone some time to recover after coming home, those who have seen, or been directly affected by a traumatic or horrific event (using your own definition or a generally accepted definition of such an event), need to be able to reconcile that it may have an impact on their lives and relationships with others after the deployment is over.
Since Carson had no family and his grandfather was dead, he didn’t need to worry about that.
Seeking help is not a sign of weakness, no more than asking your buddy to cover your backside. The body may heal from scars and wounds readily, but the scars and wounds of trauma can last much longer and are more difficult to heal.
Difficult? A caustic laugh escaped from him. The cough he’d developed in Afghanistan would never go away, and no one could convince him otherwise.
I promise that, in time, you will see that your civilian counterparts are skilled and have a perspective that you may not have ever considered. And through a respect for what they do and what they have done, you will learn that you, too, are valued and respected.
Carson had always respected the ranch staff and knew he could count on their support.
Just as you are on edge in the beginning, they too may be a little unsure of how to treat you and how to act around you.
They’d treat him just the same as always.
So, take the first step. Be patient, be kind and be humble, and you will see that the transition is much easier.
“Gentlemen?” Dr. Rimer came back in the room where most of them were coughing because of the same affliction. He was followed by a five-star general decked out in full-dress uniform. Carson glanced at his buddies, Ross and Buck, wondering what was going on.
“I’m pleased and honored to introduce General Aldous Cook. He’s anxious to talk to you men recovering in the unit. He’s been asked to do some investigating for the Senate committee examining the troubling findings of the Millennium Cohort Study of 2009.”
The eight of them got to their feet and saluted him before shaking his hand.
The General smiled. “Be seated, gentlemen. I’m honored to be in your presence and want to thank you for your invaluable service to our country.” He cleared his throat. “I understand you’re all going home tomorrow and have a great deal on your minds so I’ll make this quick.
“As you’re well aware, a significant number of returning American veterans like yourselves have reported respiratory problems that started during deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan. The study of 2009 revealed that fourteen percent of the deployed troops reported new breathing problems, compared with ten percent among those who hadn’t deployed.
“Though the percentage difference seems small when extrapolated for the two million troops who’ve been deployed since 2001, the survey suggested that at least 80,000 additional soldiers have developed post-deployment breathing problems.
“There’s a fierce debate under way over just how long-lasting and severe these problems really are. We’re tracking the numbers accrued among the troops based in Southern Afghanistan since 2009, particularly the Marines.
“After ruling out other factors, it’s apparent that the powerful dust storms, plus the fine dust from metals, toxins and burn pits used to incinerate garbage at military bases, are the potential culprits. Steps need to be taken to reduce the hazards, and I’m concerned that this exposure isn’t getting the serious review it needs.
“Dr. Rimer has indicated you’ve all improved since you’ve been here, but we’ll continue to track your progress. He assures me that with time, most of you will overcome your coughing and shortness of breath.”
Tell us another fairy tale, General.
“My concern is that every one of you receives the post-deployment care you need for as long as you need it. I’m fighting for you in the congressional hearings.”
Along with the others, Carson stood up and applauded. At least the General had bothered to come to the hospital in person and make an attempt to get at the root of the problem. Carson admired him for that. The General chatted with each of them for a few minutes, then left. With the end of the NASCAR race now missed, everyone left the lounge except Carson and his two roommates, Ross and Buck.
They hadn’t known each other until six weeks ago, when the three of them had been flown here from their various divisions and diagnosed with acute dyspnea. But even if they were hacking, coughing and wheezing, at least they’d arrived at the hospital on their own two feet. It tore them up that some of their buddies—especially those who’d been married with families—hadn’t made it through the war.
The behavioral psychologist who’d been working with them suggested that, once they were discharged, they should find a positive way to work through their survivor’s guilt.
In addition to the guilt Carson already struggled with for personal reasons, he was barely functioning. During the long hours of the night when they couldn’t sleep, they’d talked about the wives and children who’d lost husbands and fathers from their own squads. If the three of them could think of a way to help those families, maybe they could forgive themselves for coming home alive.
At one point in their nocturnal discussions, Carson threw out an idea that began to percolate and gain ground. “What if we invited the fatherless kids to my ranch for a summer vacation? The ranch has lots of outdoor activities for kids who may not have spent much time out-of-doors. We could take them fishing and camping, not to mention horseback riding and hiking.”
Ross sat up in his bed. “All of those are good confidence builders. Heaven knows those children will have lost some confidence. How many kids are you talking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you have enough room for guests?”
“No. We’d have to live in the ranch house, so that wouldn’t work. We’d have to put up some cabins.”
“I could build them with your help,” Buck offered. “Construction is what I was raised to do.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have much money.”
Buck said, “I have a little I’ve put away.”
“I have some, too,” Ross chimed in. “Looking down the road, we’d have to hire and pay a cook and provide maid service.”
Encouraged, Carson said, “No matter what, we’ll have to start out small.”
“Their moms will have to bring them.”
“You’re right, Buck. How long should they come for?”
“This is a bit of an experiment, so how about we try a week with one family and see how it goes?”
“For working mothers, I think a week sounds about right,” Ross theorized. “One thing we can do is help the kids if they need to talk about death, since we’ve been through a lot of grief counseling ourselves.”
“Good point. That’s one thing we know how to do. What ages are we talking about?”
“I’m thinking about my nieces and nephews,” Buck murmured. “How about little guys who are really missing their dads? Like six on up to maybe ten.”
Carson nodded. “That sounds about right. They’d be school age. Younger than six might be too young.”
“Agreed,” they all concurred.
Before long, enthusiasm for the project they envisioned wouldn’t let them alone. They soon found themselves plotting to turn Carson’s ranch into a dude ranch where tourists could come along with the families of fatherless children. They would establish a fund to take care of the costs. If their pilot program went well through the summer, they’d talk about keeping it open year-round.
Their plan was a good one and sounded feasible, except for one thing. None of them had gone home yet. Anything could happen when Buck and Ross were reunited with their families. Their parents had dreams for them when their beloved sons returned to their former lives. For that reason, Carson wasn’t holding his breath—what little he had at the moment. He had to admit the inhalers were helping. When he’d first been brought in, he’d been gasping for every breath and thought each was his last.
Of the three men, Carson was the only one who didn’t have living family. The grandfather who’d raised him had passed away five months ago of a surprise heart attack, leaving the ranch and its problems to him. Not even his grandfather’s doctor had seen it coming. Carson had flown home on emergency family leave to bury him.
In that regard, he wouldn’t have to run their brainchild past the older man he’d abandoned when he’d entered the military. At the time he hadn’t seen it as abandonment. They’d corresponded and phoned whenever possible, but in the end Carson wasn’t there for his grandfather when the chips were down. Now it was too late to make it up to the man he’d loved.
“Tomorrow’s the big day, guys.” Once they were all discharged from the hospital in the morning, he knew anything could happen to change his friends’ focus.
Buck nodded. “I’ll join you before the week is out.”
Maybe. But knowing Buck was the oldest son in a large, close-knit family who wanted and needed him back in the construction business, maybe not. “Give me a call and I’ll pick you up at the airport. What about you, Ross?”
“Three days at the most.”
“You think?”
He eyed him narrowly. “I know.”
Put like that, Carson could believe him, but his family who’d made their mark in oil for generations would have its way of pressuring the favorite son who’d made it home from the war. His politician father had long laid hopes for him set in stone. Time would tell if their master plan would get off the ground.
“I can hear the carts arriving with our dinner. Let’s get back to the room and eat before our final session with the shrink.”
It couldn’t come soon enough for any of them. The war had been their world for a long time. Tomorrow they’d leave it forever. But fear clutched him in the gut that it would never leave them.
MAY 2
Sandusky, Ohio
AT THREE O’CLOCK, Tracy Baretta left her office to pick up Johnny from elementary school. When she joined the line of cars waiting for the kids to come out, she hoped she’d see Clara Brewster. Her son, Nate, was a cute boy who’d invited Johnny to his birthday party last month. Johnny hadn’t wanted to go, but Tracy had made him.
Maybe Nate would like to come home with her and Johnny to play, but she didn’t see him or his mom. Her disappointment changed to a dull pain when she had to wait until all the kids had been picked up before her skinny, dark-haired first grader exited the school doors alone.
He purposely hung back from the others. His behavior had her worried sick. She’d been setting up some playdates with a few of the other boys in his first-grade class, but they hadn’t worked out well.
Johnny preferred to be alone and stay home with her after school. He’d become a very quiet child since Tony’s death and was way too attached to her. The psychologist told her to keep finding ways to get him to interact with other kids and not take no for an answer, but she wasn’t gaining ground.
He got in the rear seat with his backpack and strapped himself in. She looked over her shoulder at him. “How was school today, honey?”
“We had a substitute.”
“Was she fun?”
“It was a man. I didn’t like him.”
She eyed him in the rearview mirror. “Why do you say that?”
“He made me sit with Danny.”
“Isn’t he a nice boy?”
“He calls me squirt.”
His tear-filled voice brought out every savage maternal instinct to protect him. Praying for inspiration she said, “Do you want to know something?”
“What?”
“Your father was one of the shortest kids in his class when he was your age. By high school he was five feet ten.” The perfect size for Tracy. “That’ll happen to you, too. Do you think your father was a squirt?”
“No,” he muttered.
“Then forget what Danny said. When we go to Grandma’s house, she’ll show you lots of pictures to make you feel better.”
Of course Johnny couldn’t forget. Silence filled the car for the rest of the drive home to their small rental house. She parked in front of the garage. While he scrambled out of the back, she retrieved the mail and they entered through the front door.
Once inside, he raced for the kitchen. “Wash your hands before you eat anything!” He was always hungry for sweets after school.
While her six-year-old grumbled and ran into the bathroom, Tracy went to the kitchen and poured him a glass of milk before she sorted through the mail, mostly ads and bills. Among the assortment she saw a handwritten envelope addressed to Mrs. Anthony Baretta. It had a Jackson, Wyoming, postmark.
She didn’t know anyone in Wyoming. Her glance took in the return address. Lundgren’s Teton Valley Dude Ranch was printed inside the logo of a mountain peak.
A dude ranch? She’d heard of them all her life, but she’d never been to one. Truth be told, she’d never traveled west of the Mississippi. Every trip had been to Florida, the East Coast, New York City, the Jersey Shore or Toronto. Tony had promised Johnny that when he got out of the service next year, they’d take a big driving trip west, all the way to Disneyland. Another pain shot through her.
She took a deep breath, curious to know who would be writing to her from Wyoming. After slitting the envelope open, she pulled out the handwritten letter.
Dear Mrs. Baretta,
My name is Carson Lundgren. You don’t know me from Adam. I served as a marine in Afghanistan before I got out of the service.
The word Afghanistan swam before her eyes. Tony. She closed them tightly to stop the tears and sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. Her husband had been gone eleven months, yet she knew she would always experience this crushing pain when she thought of him.
“Mom? Can I have a peanut-butter cookie?” He’d drunk his milk.
“How about string cheese or an apple instead?”
“No-o,” he moaned.
“Johnny—” she said in a firm voice.
“Can I have some for dinner?”
“If you eat everything else first.”
“Okay.” She heard him rummage in the fridge for the cheese before he left the kitchen to watch his favorite afternoon cartoons.
When he’d disappeared into the living room, she wiped her eyes and continued reading.
Buck Summerhays and Ross Livingston, former marines, are in business with me on the Teton Valley Dude Ranch. We put our heads together and decided to contact the families of the fallen soldiers from our various units.
Your courageous husband, Anthony Baretta, served our country with honor and distinction. Now, we’d like to honor him by offering you and your son John an all-expenses-paid, one-week vacation at the dude ranch anytime in June, July or August. We’ll pay for your airfare and any other travel expenses.
Tracy’s eyes widened in total wonder.
You’re welcome to contact your husband’s division commander. His office helped us obtain your address. If you’re interested and have questions, please phone our office at the number below. We’ve also listed our website. Visit it to see the brochure we’ve prepared. We’ll be happy to email you any additional information.
Please know how anxious we are to give something back to you after Anthony’s great sacrifice.
With warmest regards,
Carson Lundgren
His words made her throat swell with emotion. With the letter still open, she phoned the commander’s office and learned that the offer was completely legitimate. His assistant had nothing but praise for such a worthy cause and hoped she and her son would be able to take advantage of it.
Tracy’s thoughts flew to her plans for the summer. When school was out, it was decided she and Johnny would spend six weeks in Cleveland with Tony’s parents. They saw Tony in their grandson and were living for a long visit. So was Tracy, who’d been orphaned at eighteen and had no other family.
Luckily, she had June and the first half of July off from her job as technology facilitator for the Sandusky school district. Both she and Johnny needed a huge dose of family love, and they would get it. Grandma planned for them to stay in Tony’s old room with all his stuff. Johnny would adore that.
The Barettas were a big Italian-American family with aunts, uncles and lots of cousins. Two of Johnny’s uncles were policemen and the other three were firefighters, like their father. Like Tony, before he’d joined the Marines to help pay for a college education.
Their loving kindness had saved her life, and Johnny’s, when news of the tragedy had come. He needed that love and support more than ever. She wondered what his reaction would be when he heard what this new invitation was about.
But before she did anything else, she called her sister-in-law Natalie to feel her out. When Tracy read her the letter, Natalie cried, “You’ve got to be kidding me! A dude ranch? Oh, my gosh, Tracy. You’ll have the time of your life. Ask Ruth. She went to one in Montana with my folks a few years ago. Remember?”
“Vaguely.”
“Yeah. It was a working ranch and they helped feed animals and went on trail rides and stuff. She got to help herd some cows.”
“I don’t think this is that kind of a ranch, but I don’t know for sure. The thing is, Johnny’s been difficult for so long, I don’t think he’d even like the idea of it.”
“If you want, I’ll tell Cory about it. I could have him call Johnny and tell him he’s thinks it would be super cool.”
“That might work. Johnny loves Cory and usually goes along with anything his favorite cousin says.”
“Cory will want to go with him. But seriously, Tracy, I can’t believe what a wonderful thing these ex-marines have decided to do. You hear a lot of talk about remembering our fallen heroes, but this is the first time I’ve heard of a group of soldiers doing something like this.”
“I know. Believe me, I’m blown away by this letter. If Tony knew, he’d be so touched.” The tears came. She couldn’t stop them. “There’s just one problem. The folks are expecting Johnny and me to visit there as soon as school is out. Since my vacation is over in mid-July, I would have to make arrangements to do this trip before then.”
“True.” Natalie’s voice trailed. “It will cut into the time you planned with Mom and Dad Baretta.”
“Yes. You know how they’re looking forward to spending time with Johnny.”
“Well, don’t say anything to them until you find out if he wants to go.”
“You’re right. First things first. I’ll let you know what happens. Thanks for being there and being my best friend.”
“Ditto to you. Ciao.”
Deciding there was no time like the present to find out, Tracy picked up the letter and walked into the living room. Johnny was spread out on the floor with his turtle pillow-pet watching Tom and Jerry.
“Honey, do you mind if I shut off the TV? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
He turned to look at her out of eyes as dark a brown as Tony’s. She picked up the remote and turned the set off before sitting down on the couch. “We just got an invitation in the mail to do something we’ve never done before. It was sent by some men who used to be marines, like your father.”
That seemed to pique his interest enough to sit up cross-legged. “Are they going to have a party?” In his child’s world, an invitation meant a party. Since Tony’s death he’d shied away from them. He seemed to have lost his confidence. It killed her.
“No. Let me read this to you.”
He sat quietly until she’d finished. “What’s a dude ranch?”
“It’s a place to go horseback riding and probably lots of other things.”
Her son had never been on a horse. Neither had she. “You mean like a cowboy?” She nodded. “Where is it?”
“In Wyoming.”
“Where’s that?”
“If you’re interested, I’ll show you on the computer.”
“Okay.”
He followed her into her bedroom where she had her laptop. In a second she’d brought up a map of the United States. “We live here, in Ohio.” She pointed to Cleveland. “Now, watch my finger. You have to cross Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and South Dakota to get to Wyoming, right here.”
She could hear his mind working. “How long would we be gone?”
“A week.”
“That’s a long time.” His voice wobbled. “I don’t want to go.”
Tracy had been afraid of that answer, but she understood. It meant leaving the only security he’d ever known. Going to stay with his aunt Natalie and play with his cousin Cory, or having an overnighter on the weekend with his grandparents, who only lived an hour away, was different.
“We don’t have to. These men know your daddy died and they’d like to do something nice for you, but it’s your decision, Johnny. Before I turn off the computer, would you like to see some pictures Mr. Lundgren sent so you could see what it looks like?”
He sighed. “I guess.”
Tracy typed in the web address and clicked. Up popped a colored photograph of the Teton Mountain Range with a few pockets of snow. The scene was so spectacular she let out a slight gasp. In the bottom of the picture was the layout of the Teton Valley Dude Ranch surrounded by sage.
A “whoa” from Johnny told her his attention had been captured. She read the description below the picture out loud.
“The dude ranch is located along the legendary Snake River in the shadow of the magnificent Teton Mountain Range. It’s just five miles from the town of Jackson, a sophisticated mountain resort. Fifteen minutes away are world-class skiing areas.
“This 1,700-acre ranch operates as a cattle ranch with its own elk and deer herds, eagles and bears. There’s fishing along the three miles of the Snake. At elevations from 6,200 to 7,300 feet, summers bring average temperatures of eighty degrees and low humidity.
“Mountaineering, fly-fishing, white-water rafting, wildlife expeditions, horseback riding, photo safaris, hiking and camping trips, stargazing, bird watching, ballooning, a visit to the rodeo, are all included when you stay on the ranch. Among the amenities you’ll enjoy are a game room, a swimming pool, a babysitting service, laundry services and the use of a car for local transportation.”
Johnny nudged her. “What’s white water?”
She’d been deep in thought. “There’s a picture here of some people in a raft running the rapids. Take a look.”
His eyes widened. “You mean we’d do that if we went there?”
“If we wanted to.”
He looked up at her. “When would we go?”
So he was interested. She felt a sudden lift of her spirits. “How about as soon as school is out? After our trip is over, we’ll fly back to Cleveland and stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a month. Why don’t you think about it, and let me know tonight before you go to bed?”
“Can I see the rest of the pictures?”
“Sure. You know how to work the computer. While you do that, I’m going to start dinner.” With her fingers crossed, she got up from her swivel chair so he could sit and look at everything. He needed something to bring him out of his shell. Maybe a trip like this would help.
A half hour later he came running into the kitchen where she’d made spaghetti. “Mom—you should see the elks. They have giant horns!”
“You mean antlers.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
She hunkered down and gave him a hug. “It’s pretty exciting stuff, huh.”
He stared at her with a solemn expression. “Do you want to go?”
Oh, my precious son. “If you do.”
JUNE 7
Jackson, Wyoming
IT WAS LATE Friday afternoon when the small plane from Salt Lake City, Utah, started to make its descent. The pilot came on over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re about to land at the only commercial airport located inside a U.S. national park.”
Johnny reached for Tracy’s hand.
“We’re flying over the Greater Yellowstone region with forests, mountains, wilderness areas and lakes as far as the eye can see. Ahead is the majestic Teton Range. You’ll see the Snake River and the plains around it in a patchwork of colors.”
Tracy found it all glorious beyond description, but when the Grand Teton came into view, knifing into the atmosphere, every passenger was struck dumb with awe.
“If you’ll look below, we’re coming up on Jackson Hole.”
Seeing it for the first time, Tracy could understand the reason for its name. It was a narrow valley surrounded by mountains and probably presented a challenge for the pilot to land safely. She clung to Johnny’s hand. Before long, their plane touched down on the tarmac and taxied to the gate.
After it came to a stop, she unclasped their seat belts. “Are you all right, honey?”
He nodded. “That was scary.”
“I agree, but we’re here safe and sound now.” She reached for her purse above the seat. “Let’s go.”
They followed the other eight passengers out the exit to the tiny terminal. The second they entered the one-story building, she heard a deep male voice call her name.
Tracy looked to her left and saw a tall, lean cowboy in jeans and a Western shirt. With his hard-muscled physique, he stood out from everyone else around him. This was no actor from a Western movie set. From his well-worn black Stetson to his cowboy boots, everything about him shouted authentic.
Johnny hugged her side. “Who’s that?” he whispered.
The thirtyish-looking stranger must have heard him because he walked over and reached out to shake Johnny’s hand. “My name’s Carson Lundgren. I’m the man who sent your mom the letter inviting you to the ranch. You have to be John.” His eyes traveled over Tracy’s son with a compassion she could feel.
He nodded.
“Have you found your stomach yet, or is it still up in the air?” His question made Johnny laugh. He couldn’t have said anything to break the ice faster. “I’ll tell you a secret. When I was your age and my grandpa took me on my first plane ride around the Teton Valley, I didn’t find my stomach for a week, but you get used to it.”
While her son was studying him in amazement, his hot blue gaze switched to Tracy. Her medium height meant she had to look up at him. He removed his hat, revealing a head of dark blond hair, attractively disheveled.
“Mrs. Baretta, it’s a pleasure to meet you and your son.”
“We’re excited to be here, Mr. Lundgren, and honored by the invitation. Please call us Johnny and Tracy.”
“Terrific. You can call me Carson.” He coughed for a few seconds. “Forgive me. I do that quite often. Something I picked up overseas. It’s not contagious.”
Johnny’s head tipped back to look at him. “You used to be a marine like my dad, huh?”
“Yup. I have a picture of him and his buddies.” He pulled a wallet from his pocket. Inside was a small packet of photos. He handed one to Johnny. “I didn’t know him, because I’d just been transferred in from another detail when the picture was taken. But I learned Tony Baretta came from a long line of firefighters and had the reputation of being the toughest marine in the unit. You can keep it.”
“Thanks.” His young voice trembled. “I loved him.”
“Of course you did, just like I loved my grandpa.”
“What about your dad?”
“My parents were killed in a freak flood when I was a baby. My grandparents raised me. After my grandma died, it was just Grandpa and me.”
“Didn’t you have cousins?”
“Nope. How about you?”
He looked at Tracy. “How many do I have, Mom?”
“Let me think. Twenty-two-and-a-half at the present counting.”
Carson’s brows lifted. “You’re lucky. I would have given anything for just one.”
That sounded like a lonely statement. Tracy looked over Johnny’s shoulder while he studied the photograph. She counted a dozen soldiers in uniform. When she found Tony, her eyes glazed over.
Johnny’s next remark surprised her because it wasn’t about his father. “You look different in a helmet.”
“We were just a bunch of metal heads.” Johnny laughed again. “None of us liked them much, but the gear kept us protected.”
“I like your cowboy hat better,” Johnny said before putting the picture in his pocket.
Carson grinned. The rugged rancher was one striking male. “Shall we get you a hat like it on our way to the ranch?”
“Could we?” Tracy hadn’t seen him exhibit this kind of excitement in over a year.
“Of course. You can’t live on a dude ranch without your duds.”
“What are duds?”
“Everything I’m wearing plus a lot of other things.”
“What other things?”
“Chaps and gloves for bull riding.”
“Do you ride bulls?” Johnny’s eyes grew huge.
“I used to when I was training for the rodeo.”
“Can I see one?”
“Sure. I’m planning on taking you to the Jackson rodeo on the last night you’re here. You’ll see barrel racing and steer wrestling too.”
“Mom!” Johnny cried out with uncontained excitement.
“Come on, partner. Let’s get your luggage and we’ll go shopping.”
“As long as you let me pay for everything,” Tracy interjected.
He shook his head. “While you’re here, we take care of everything for the kids.”
“I can’t allow that,” she insisted. “A free vacation is one thing, but I’ll be buying whatever Johnny wants or needs while we’re here.”
His blue eyes flickered before he shoved his hat back on. “Yes, ma’am.”
Johnny had to hurry to keep up with the larger-than-life cowboy whose long powerful legs reached the baggage claim in a few strides.
“I bet you’re hungry. Do you like buffalo burgers?”
“Buffalo?”
Tracy tried to hide her smile. Her son turned to her. “Mom? Are there really buffalo burgers?”
“Yes, but I’ve never eaten one.”
He looked at Carson. “Are they good?”
“Do you like hamburgers?”
“Yes.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” His lips twitched when he glanced at Tracy. “Which bags are yours?”
“The two blue ones and the matching shoulder bag.”
“Here you go.” He handed Johnny the shoulder bag and he reached for the other two. “The van’s right outside.” Her son had to be surprised, but she noticed he carried the bag like a man and kept up with Carson.
They walked outside into a beautiful, still evening. She loved the dry air, but could tell they were at a much higher elevation than they were used to. The mountain range loomed over the valley, so close she felt dwarfed by it.
Their host shot her a concerned glance. “Are you all right, Tracy?”
“I’m fine.”
“The air’s thinner than you’re used to in Ohio.”
“It isn’t that as much as the mountains. They’re so close to us, I feel like they’re pressing in.”
“I had the same feeling in reverse when we reached Afghanistan and I got off the plane with no mountains in sight where we landed. I felt like I was in a constant state of free-fall. Without landmarks, it took me a while to get my bearings.”
“Coming from a paradise like this, I can’t even imagine it. Tony and I grew up on Lake Erie. He told me that after he got there, with no water in sight, he went into shock.”
“We all did,” Carson murmured. “On every level.”
She hadn’t talked to anyone about Tony’s war experiences in a long time and hadn’t wanted to. But this was different, because Carson had made a connection by being there, too. With that photo in his pocket, her son wouldn’t forget, either.
He guided them to the dark green van. It was easy to spot, with the same logo on the side she’d seen on the envelope. He stowed their luggage in the rear, then helped her and Johnny into the backseat.
“First we’ll head to the Silver Dollar Grill for some grub.”
“What’s grub?”
“That’s what the ranch hands call food. After that, we’ll drive over to the Boot Corral and get you outfitted. I think they even sell some mustangs.”
“What are those?”
“Cap guns. When I was little I had a mustang and played like I was Hopalong Cassidy.”
“Who was he?”
“Hoppy was a straight shooter and my favorite cowboy.”
His dark head jerked around to Tracy. “Did you ever see Hoppy?”
Her quick-study son was soaking up all this fascinating information like a sponge. “When I was a little girl my father had some old Western movies and we’d watch them. Hoppy was the good guy who always played fair. He had white hair and wore a black cowboy hat.”
“Hey—” He looked at Carson. “So do you!” Johnny cried in delight.
“Yup. I wanted to be just like him.”
Tracy smiled. “He had two partners. One old duffer was called Gabby, and the young one was called Lucky. I was crazy about Lucky. He was tall and good-looking.”
Johnny giggled.
“All the girls loved Lucky,” Carson commented. “That was mushy stuff.”
“Yeah,” her son agreed with him.
“Now we know where Lucky got his name, don’t we.” Carson winked at her. “I have a couple of old Western movies on CD, and you can see him in action.”
“Can we watch it tonight?”
“No, young man,” Tracy intervened. “When we get to the ranch, we’re both going straight to bed. It’s been a long day.”
“Your mom’s right, Johnny. Tonight we’ll load you up with one of those mustangs Hoppy used to use and all the ammo you want. In a few days, when I take you out riding, we’ll scout for bad guys.”
“I’ve never been on a horse.”
“Never?”
“No.”
Those blue eyes flicked to Tracy. “How about you?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re a pair of the greenest greenhorns you ever met. When I saw your dude ranch logo on the envelope, I never dreamed Johnny and I would end up spending time on one.”
His chuckle slid in under the radar to resonate through her. “With a couple of lessons that problem will be rectified and you can explore to your heart’s content. There’s no place like it on Earth. My grandfather used to tell me that, but it wasn’t until I came home for his funeral last November that I realized what he meant.” She heard the tremor in his voice.
He’d had a recent loss, too. Tracy sensed he was still suffering.
Carson broke their gaze and looked back at Johnny. “We have four ponies. I think I know the one that will be yours while you’re here.”
“Yippee!” Until this moment Tracy hadn’t thought her son’s face would ever light up like that again.
“You can name her,” he added.
Johnny looked perplexed. “I don’t know any girl names for a horse.”
“You think about it tonight, and tell me tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Carson smiled at both of them before closing the door. She heard him cough again before he walked around the car and got in behind the wheel. Something he’d picked up after being deployed, he’d said.
“What makes you cough so much?”
He looked over at Johnny. “There were a lot of contaminants in the air in Afghanistan. Stuff like smoke and toxins. Some of the soldiers breathed too many bad fumes and our lungs were injured. When I got sick, I was sent to a hospital in Maryland for special treatment. That’s where I met Ross and Buck. We became such good friends, we decided to go into business together after we got home.”
“Oh. Does it hurt?” Johnny almost whispered the last word.
“It did in the beginning, but not so much now. We’re a lot better than we used to be.”
“I’m glad.”
Her sweet boy.
“Me too, son.”
War was a ghastly reality of life. Carson and his friends were some of the fortunate ones who came home alive. She admired them for getting on with living despite their problem, for unselfishly wanting to make a difference in her life and Johnny’s. What generous, remarkable men....
As he drove them toward the town, she stared out the window. With night coming on, the Tetons formed a giant silhouette against the growing darkness. She shivered in reaction.
Instead of Johnny, who carried on an animated conversation with their host about horses and breeds, she was the one who felt oddly troubled for being so far away from home and everything familiar to her. This new world had taken her by surprise in ways she couldn’t understand or explain.
