Her out had been the ROTC and a ROTC scholarship for a nursing degree. She was the first and only member of her family to go to college, much less obtain a four-year degree. The price had been ten years in the army, much of it in Iraq and Afghanistan field hospitals.
And now...now there was nothing. She’d sent most of her salary home to her mother and youngest sister in West Virginia. It would be a while, apparently a long while, before she received back pay and disability from the army. The backlog was as much as two years long. She was, in effect, the next thing to being dead broke.
“I don’t want charity,” she said again.
“It’s not charity,” he said, leaning across the desk. “You might say it’s meant as a way station for returning vets while they find their legs. It sits alongside a lake fed by the mountain streams, and there’s a large number of supportive vets, some of whom have gone through much the same thing you’re going through now.”
He paused, then added, “As for charity, you’ll probably be asked, but not required, to do something connected to the town. The last vet taught computer classes for senior citizens.”
“Where is he now?”
“He joined the police department there. He’s being groomed for chief.”
“What was he?” she asked, curious despite herself.
“A chopper pilot. Suffered a head injury that kept him from flying again. I have to say that he had the same reaction as you have but decided to try it. He’s very happy that he did. He said you could call him if you want.”
“You told him about me?” she said.
“Not you specifically. Not without talking to you first. I just said there was someone who could be interested in the cabin.”
“And no one wants to know more?”
“Nope.”
“I think it’s weird,” she said.
Dr. Payne smiled. “It’s a good kind of weird. But the vets are a close-knit group. They have a weekly poker game,” he said with a grin. Somewhere in all their discussions, she’d let it slip that she had become a good poker player during the slow times at the field hospital.
“All guys?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t ask. Doesn’t matter. They take care of each other.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of.” She feared she sounded like a child. She wasn’t going to admit that maybe, just maybe, she did.
“If Covenant Falls doesn’t work out for you, you can always get into a PTSD program in Denver. There’s a good one there.”
She looked at him warily. He knew her financial situation. In fact, he knew a great deal about her. She had been in a stupor for months after Jared’s death. He had tried to make her want to live again, to believe that was what Jared would want.
“Give it a try,” Dr. Payne said, obviously sensing victory. “You don’t have to stay. It’s not a jail sentence. If you’re uncomfortable or just don’t like it, I’ll find something else.”
“I’ll think about it,” Andy said. She really didn’t care where she was. And he was right. She wouldn’t have to stay.
“Do you like dogs?” Dr. Payne asked unexpectedly.
“Sure. Who doesn’t?” Andy replied, relieved to be off the subject. “Never had one. Money was too tight when I was a kid, then a dog doesn’t really fit into army life unless it’s military.”
“There’s several programs, including one near here that matches shelter dogs with vets who have PTSD. They’re trained to sense when a PTSD attack is coming and alert their vet.”
She hesitated. A dog? How could she take care of a dog when she couldn’t take care of herself right now? Dr. Payne waited, then said gently, “You would be saving a life.” He paused. “And I can probably win you a few more days here.”
He was trying to force her to make a decision, but the idea suddenly appealed to Andy. Loneliness was like a shroud around her. And a dog wouldn’t ask questions or give sympathy or question her choices. “Would the cabin owner approve?”
The psychologist grinned.
“He adopted a retired military dog with PTSD. The woman he married has four rescue dogs and, from what I hear, two horses, a cat and a son. He was a dedicated loner before he went to Covenant Falls.”
She couldn’t hide her skepticism. The loner probably hadn’t seen his fiancé shot down in a hail of bullets by one of people he was trying to help. “How much is a dog? I don’t have much money.”
“It’s free. The dog has all its shots, is well trained and there’s equipment provided, as well. A dog bed, dishes. Food. Toys.”
She felt like a fish being reeled in. She didn’t like being manipulated, but she had to make a decision. And fast.
Dr. Payne waited, as he always did. He rarely appeared to push, but in his own devious way, that was exactly what happened.
“Maybe I’ll give the cabin a try,” she said reluctantly.
“What about the dog?” Dr. Payne said.
She hesitated, just as she hesitated at any move forward these days. Inertia had taken over her life. Decisions were difficult if not impossible. That was entirely new for her. She had been making decisions since she was little older than a toddler. When set on a course she could be rarely be deterred. But that was before. Now...nothing was important.
“Andy,” Dr. Payne said, changing from his usual formal “Lieutenant.” “Give it a try. At least talk to the trainer. See the dog. You don’t have to make a decision this minute.”
There was that reason again. Sometimes she hated it.
She nodded her head.
* * *
THREE DAYS LATER, she drove with Dr. Payne to meet the dog. She braced herself for meeting someone new and having to make a decision.
Dr. Payne had warned her that the trainer wouldn’t let the dog go with just anyone. There had to be “a fit.” She swallowed as Dr. Payne turned the car onto a well-rutted dirt road. What if the dog rejected her? She didn’t know whether that was what she wanted or not. She had decided that if it did work she was going to keep an emotional distance from the animal.
Why had she let Dr. Payne talk her into this?
“You’re second-guessing yourself again,” Dr. Payne said.
“You didn’t trust me to get here on my own,” she accused him.
She’d been surprised when he’d offered to drive her down on his day off. Probably because he feared she would back out, or not make it in the Bucket, her ancient Volkswagen.
If the introduction went well, she would be expected to stay at the trainer’s ranch for several days for intense training and to ensure the match would be successful.
Maybe it wouldn’t be. In the past few days, she’d read enough about the program to know there had to be trust on the part of both the veteran and the dog. She didn’t know if she could give that.
Dr. Payne turned onto a dirt road that led to a small ranch house. There were also stables, an oblong building with a chimney, kennels and a fenced-in area. Several dogs came to the fence and barked as Dr. Payne parked the car.
A