“Because I was here,” Maggie said with a smile and lift of her chin. “And he wanted me. Bad.”
“I wish I could do that,” Connie said. “Longest I’ve been out there is four days. Sierra, we gotta do that. Go out there for a couple of months.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m so addicted to daily showers...”
“I have to decide where I’m going to stop exploring,” Dakota said.
“As in, settle down?” Cal asked.
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he said. “After the Army? I might not have the temperament for staying in one place.”
“Are you going to hang around at least awhile?” Sierra asked hopefully.
“You bet,” he said. “I’ll be around awhile. Maybe I can help out.”
“You can babysit,” Cal said.
“Now, that’s one thing I’m pretty sure I can’t do,” Dakota said. “I’m good with kids, but it’s best if they’re college graduates.”
There was a round of moans and laughter.
By nine o’clock Sully had gone back to the Crossing, Maggie and Elizabeth had gone to bed and it was only Sierra, Connie, Cal and Dakota. The men were having one more beer. Sierra, in recovery, a year and a half sober, was drinking her green tea.
“I’ll have to go to two meetings tomorrow after spending the night with you big drinkers,” she said.
Cal laughed at her. “Three of us had eight beers in six hours. As celebrations go, it was pretty tame.”
“If it bothers you...” Dakota began.
“It doesn’t,” she said. “But I’m going to feel a lot better than you tomorrow morning.”
“Since you’re going to feel so good tomorrow, want to take me out on the trail?” Dakota asked. Molly rose from her sleeping spot, shook herself awake and leaned against Dakota’s thigh. Waiting. “Does this one go hiking?”
“Sometimes I take Molly and Beau, Sully’s lab. But I can only stay out there a couple of hours at most if they’re with me.” She stood. “I’ll come for you at 8:20. Come on, Connie. Time to put the baby to bed.”
Dakota and Cal snapped to attention.
“Molly,” she said. “I meant Molly.”
“Shew,” Dakota said. “If there was another one, I was going to run for my life!”
“There’s just Elizabeth,” Sierra said. “And they won’t commit to whether they’ll add to the family. And I’m definitely not in the game.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Duh. Our crazy father and his genetic code, for one thing. Come on, Connie. It’s past our bedtime.”
Dakota looked at his watch. “This is a real lively crowd,” he said, standing to say good-night. He kissed his sister’s cheek. “See you in the morning. By the way, you’re looking good.”
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “So are you. A little shaggy, but good.”
Dakota flashed her a grin. Behind his dark beard, it was dazzling.
Sierra combed her fingers along his cheeks, through his beard. “Little gray coming in here, Cody.”
“I earned it,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning.”
* * *
In the seventeen years since Dakota left his family behind for the Army, the time he spent with them was infrequent and brief. Cal and Sedona tried to keep up with him. He visited them for important events—Cal’s wedding to Lynne, then his wedding to Maggie. When Sedona’s children were born, he checked in. He never stayed long. Sierra, who was so special to him, had been a wild card until she found sobriety. He had visited for a couple of days at a time, that’s all. He didn’t want to get too attached to them.
This time was different. The second, third and fourth days came and went. He hiked with Sierra, then Cal, then just the dogs. He dug out Sully’s garden for spring planting. They repaired the grills and picnic tables and talked all the while. Sully was very cool for an old guy. He admitted he came home from Vietnam with some PTSD and asked how Dakota had fared in that regard. “Oh, I’ve got PTSD all right,” Dakota said. “Probably more from my personal life than my military experience.”
“Then aren’t you one of the lucky ones,” Sully said.
Dakota cleaned out the gutters around Sully’s house and store and threw the balls for the dogs. Then he had to bathe the dogs because it had rained and they got into the freshly turned soil and compost in the garden. While hanging out at the Crossing he met Tom Canaday, the guy who helped Cal renovate the barn that was now his stunning house. Tom was Sully’s good friend and part-time handyman, a single dad with two kids in college and two still in high school. When Tom told him all the jobs he’d had while raising his kids, Dakota was inspired.
Maybe it wasn’t necessary for him to make big, permanent decisions about what to do for work or where to settle. Maybe he could coast for a little while. “Think a guy like me could work on a road crew?” he asked Tom. “Or haul trash?”
Tom laughed. “A vet who served? Who has ties to the town? Hell, Dakota, anyone would hire you. I’ll give you a recommendation. You just have to decide what you want to do. I’ve been working for the county for almost twenty years.”
“I should probably pick up trash,” he said. “Penance for all my misdeeds.”
“Misdeeds?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Cal said you were a decorated soldier.”
“I just about undecorated myself before it was all over,” he said. He scratched his beard. “I guess I should get a haircut. Do I need to lose the beard?”
Tom laughed. “This is Colorado, man. You look homegrown.”
“Good. I’ve grown kind of attached.” He grinned. “So to speak.”
“I’ll find out what they’re hiring for and get you an application.”
When he went home from Sully’s after a productive day, he found Cal in his home office, just hanging up the phone.
“So, you’re still here,” Cal said. “It’s been five days. I think that’s a record.”
“Am I getting underfoot?” Dakota asked.
“I’ve hardly noticed you,” he said. “You feeling underfoot?”
Dakota shook his head, leaning against the door frame.
“Baby bothering you?” Cal asked.
“The baby is kind of awesome,” Dakota said. “I’m not babysitting, however.”
Cal laughed. “We managed before you arrived, we’ll continue to manage.”
“So, what if I hung around?” he asked.
“What if?” Cal returned.
“Would that be weird for you?”
“Nah. I actually like you. Sort of.” Then he sobered. “You’re welcome here, Dakota. And thanks for helping Sully. It’s appreciated.”
“Everyone was helping him get the grounds ready, but I think now it’s going to rain. For days.”
“That’s what I hear,” Cal said. “Every March the rain comes, every March Sully gets the campground ready for summer. Well, spring and summer. We all help out. It wasn’t expected of you, so thanks. Now what?”
“Well,” he said, scratching his chin.