CHAPTER 7
November 10
“We need to give Freya a bath,” Jesse told Travis as they cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. It was Saturday morning and she looked forward to not having to work for two days. Travis’s father now had a new caretaker and she hoped it would work out for everyone. Tomorrow, they would go to the caboose and start the water and bleach clean up. Outside, the Indian summer continued and she loved the colorful fall leaves twirling magically across the blue sky in the inconstant morning breeze.
“I’m sure she’s used to baths if she was a show dog,” he said, putting everything in the dishwasher. “Should be straightforward with her.”
“Do you have a place to wash her?”
He smiled. “I have an old bathtub down in the basement. We could wash her there?”
“Is there a dog groomer in Hamilton?”
“No. It’s us or nothing. How about now? Do you have anything else planned?”
As if on cue, Freya came out of the bedroom, trotting across the living room and joining them. “Want a bath?” Jesse asked the dog, petting her head.
A wagging tail was her response.
“She’s a mind reader too or she understands English. Let’s go do it, then,” he said, straightening. “I’ve got old towels and there are two rugs on either side of the tub we can kneel on. Should be fun, huh?”
They both eyed Freya, who had tilted her head first one way and then the other, as each of them spoke in turn. “Sounds like we’re going to be wet, too, by the time this is all over.”
“I don’t think you’ll melt,” he teased, chuckling.
Her lips pulled into a wry smile. “No, been through more than rain and never melted.”
“You’re letting your hair grow?”
She washed her hands in the sink and dried them off. A nice feeling rolled through her and she noticed a glint in his eyes as he’d said it. No, it wasn’t teasing. It was something else. Something she’d not seen before. Picking up a slight curl of her hair near her temple, she said, “I don’t have to keep it short anymore. It’s growing like a weed. I used to have hair that touched my shoulders and that’s what I’m aiming for again.”
“Part of getting back into civilian life. Right?”
“In a way.” She reached over, touching his temple. “You still have military short hair. I don’t see you wearing curls.” Jesse knew that would get a big rise out of him. Most military vets, with some exceptions of course, continued to wear their hair short after getting out of the service. His eyes grew large for a moment and she enjoyed his reaction. It was nice to be allowed into his world of trust where he could be vulnerable and open with her. Truly, it was one of the greatest gifts one person could give another.
“Touché,” he said. He gave Freya a pat on the head because she’d come over to greet him next. “Not to get off topic, but we’re going to have to move her and her pups out of your bedroom. They started opening their eyes on the seventh and now, they’re all over the place. I worry about one of us accidentally stepping on one of them.”
“I know.” She sighed and looked around the large living room. “Do you have any ideas, Travis?”
“I was thinking of putting them down into the basement. It’s clean, warm and dry. Plus, there’s lots of light from the windows. I can put up a fence of sorts in one-third of the area. That way, as they start peeing and pooping, we can clean it up. They’re too young to potty train yet and any day now, I’m afraid we’re going to start getting snow. We can’t put them outside in this kind of weather.”
“You’re right. The basement sounds like a good place.” She glanced at Freya. “I wonder if she’ll be okay with it?”
“I guess we’ll find out. Come on, let’s go down there and look around. She’ll follow us.”
Jesse had not been in the basement before and her expectations rose as they took the old, solid cedar staircase down to it. She’d been worried it might be dank and dark, but it was just the opposite. Just as he had promised, it was filled with light, spotlessly clean, with two-thirds of it covered in a nubby carpet and one-third of it concrete floor. Freya followed and seemed sincerely interested in the huge, bright, rectangular area.
Travis watched her snoop around. “I think this is a perfect place for her. She seems to be favoring that one corner under the window. Good light there and it’s in a corner where she feels safer than being out in the middle of this place.”
Nodding, Jesse watched the dog navigate the entire basement. “She’s definitely checking it out.”
Travis walked up to a cupboard near the old tub. “Let’s get her cleaned up.” He handed Jesse some old, but clean, dry towels. He went to another cupboard and pulled down a bottle of shampoo that Emily had given him the other day. There were two rugs on either side of the tub. He put the plug in the tub and turned on the water, keeping it warm, but not hot.
Freya came over to the tub, ears up, interested.
“Maybe she wants a bath,” Jesse said.
“Some dogs like water. Others don’t. We’ll find out which type she is in a minute.” He rolled up the sleeves on his red and black checked flannel shirt. “Be prepared to get wet,” he warned her with a grin.
Laughing, she pulled the orange sleeves of her tee up above her elbows. “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” Travis said, gently picking up Freya, “let’s see how she likes this…”
There was no need to worry. Jesse watched as he placed Freya’s paws on a long, thick rubber mat that would stop her from slipping and falling. The warm water was knee high. The dog stood there, looking at them expectantly.
Jesse took a nearby plastic drinking cup that Travis had given her along with the towels, and began to wet her down from her neck and across her back and hind quarters. Soon enough, their hands were meeting here and there. Freya stood obediently, not trying to avoid the water or them massaging the shampoo into her dirty fur.
“Yep, she sure knows what a bath is all about,” Jesse said, enjoying the unexpected contact with his hands. They scrubbed her, gently picking up each leg one at a time, and washed the dirt off her white fur and moved on. The last to be cleaned was her black and white tipped tail. Travis then drained the dirty water and put in fresh warm water. They began to use the two drinking cups, pouring it over her sudsy body, washing away at least three months’ worth of grit and grime.
“She’s so beautiful,” Jesse sighed, giving him a glance as they finished with the first rinse. He drained the tub and filled it again.
“She has brown on her legs that I didn’t see before,” Travis said, starting the second rinse. “That’s how filthy she’d become. I’m glad we’re giving her a bath.”
“Poor dog,” she whispered, giving Freya a sympathetic look.
Freya wagged her tail.
Yipping, Jesse got swatted with a tail full of water.
Laughing, Travis caught her tail, and then she shook herself, droplets of water flying in every direction.
They were both good and wet by the time everything was done. After draining the water after the second rinse, Freya stood and enjoyed the towels being rubbed all over her, soaking up the water on her fur. Finally, she was dry! Travis lifted her up and out of the tub, setting her on the nubby carpet on the floor.
Instantly, Freya shook herself good once again.
“She’s ten colors lighter,” Jesse said, mopping up the water around the tub with one of the spent towels.
“She’s smiling.” Travis looked down at the dog trotting around, stopping, shaking and trotting on once more.
“I’m sure she is. The poor thing.” Jesse finished cleaning up the tub and stood. Travis gathered everything else and took it upstairs to be put into the washer.
Freya’s fur was barely damp as she bounded up the stairs after them, ran to the water bowl, lapped a lot of it up and then headed back to her pups in the bedroom.
Within a few hours, with Jesse’s help, Travis had cordoned off one-third of the basement for Freya and her pups. The area didn’t have the nubby carpet, but rather, was smooth concrete, making it easy to clean up after the pups. Jesse felt as if another barrier between her and Travis had melted away. They’d had a lot of fun, laughter and good times washing Freya. Most of all, she liked the unexpected contact with his hands. Every day, she was growing closer to him in every way. And only this morning, she wondered if she had seen that glint in his eyes that told her he was interested in her. Was it her imagination? They got along well with one another. There was a natural ease between them and she liked his sensitivity toward her and the dog. Every day she slept under his roof, she felt marginally better, like taking baby steps forward toward a better kind of life. Being with him was a positive, no question.
*
November 10
“Do you have a sister or brother?” Travis asked Jesse. They were sitting cross-legged in the puppy enclosure in the basement, playing with the five puppies who were more than happy to have human contact and affection. Freya lay nearby, alert and watching the interplay. He saw Jesse shake her head.
“No. Only child.” She picked up the only male, kissing its noggin and setting him back down. “You mentioned once you had a younger brother named Kyle.”
He stirred. The time here with Jesse only intensified his yearning to go deeper, to be on a more intimate level with her. He’d lost sleep at night thinking of a way he could do it. Travis had finally decided the only way was for him to open up—not something he was very good at. Meeting her gaze, he said, “I did.” He saw her digest his statement as two of the female puppies went racing from him to her. Travis liked the way she met them, bringing each one upward, holding them against her chest and nuzzling them. He smiled. Jesse was good with people and animals—maybe it came from being a translator because they had a lot of psychology blended into their daily work.
Placing the pups back on the floor, she asked, “You said that past tense.” She dug into his gaze, asking without asking the obvious question.
Uncomfortably, he moved and his lips pursed for a moment. “Kyle died in a car crash when he was twenty-four.”
“Oh…I’m sorry…”
He winced inwardly, her heartfelt words tackling his desire to protect himself. He didn’t know why he got defensive because Jesse was sincere. It was about him. About buttoning up. Somehow, Travis knew he had to break that logjam within himself and allow Jesse entrance into him, into what he really needed with her: intimacy, like the kind that he saw between Nick and Holly Conway. One of the little female pups toddled over to him, climbing up on his crossed ankles and he eased her over to his denim clad thigh. Happily, she flopped down on her belly, exhausted, her hind legs hanging over his leg. “I have real problems opening up personally,” he managed, giving a one shouldered shrug. “Kyle was autistic. He was diagnosed in kindergarten. I was in the second grade. I knew my brother was different, but he was sweet, and sensitive and a good person. He’d always wave his hands when he was stressed out, did this even as a baby as far back as I can remember, and I took it as normal.” He took a deep breath and held her compassionate gaze. “He was very, very shy. I thought nothing of it. The boys in his kindergarten started bullying him. I saw it happen one afternoon when I was going to pick him up and walk him home. I grabbed the kid, chewing him out. I told them if I ever caught them making fun of Kyle again, I’d do worse the next time around.”
“Did it stop?”
“Yes. They left him alone. He was having a hard enough time because he was shy. My father didn’t understand him. Kyle loved to read, Jesse. My mom read to both of us from the time I was three years old, onward. She’d put Kyle up on her lap in the rocking chair and I’d sit at her feet and listen. I loved those evenings when she had time to do it. I always slept well on them, and so did Kyle.”
“What happened after he was diagnosed?”
Travis took another little female into his large hands after she came romping up to him, tugging at the cuff of his shirt. “My mom was devastated. My father said he always knew Kyle wasn’t normal. They got into a bad argument and I remember Kyle coming to me to be held. He’d do that when he felt really threatened. I took him to his room and I got him to start reading one of his books. If he could read a book, he would calm down. I learned that when he waved his hands, that it meant he felt stressed or frightened.”
“Because the book took him away from whatever the threat was?”
He frowned. “How did you know that?”
“There were kids in some of the Afghan villages, mostly boys, who were autistic. As an interpreter, during schooling, I was made aware of such kids, and how to work with them.” Quirking her lips, she said softly, “Travis, these kids are not stupid, nor are they mentally ill. They are very, very bright. They just need the right kind of environment to thrive in, is all.”
“Well, my family dynamic wasn’t helpful to Kyle at all. My mother was broken-hearted over his condition. It was my grandmother who came to the rescue. She showed my mother how best to learn how to help Kyle cope. She taught me how to help him, too. She and my mother then went to his kindergarten teacher and enlisted her help. All those things supported Kyle and with time and maturity, he did a lot better. Later, when he hit twenty years old, he began to thrive.”
“What about your father?”
“Sam tried to learn how to deal with Kyle. They had a patchy past with one another from time to time. As Kyle got older, they got along much better and had a good relationship.”
“What about your grandparents? How did they react to this information and diagnosis of your brother?”
“Kyle was always Inez’s favorite and when he was young, she would sit with him in a rocker that was in his bedroom at their cabin. She’d read to him nightly, which he loved. My grandparents loved him. They never thought there was anything wrong with him and accepted him just the way he was.”
“I’m sure they loved you, too, Travis.”
“Sure, they did, but there was a special, loving bond between Kyle and my grandma. She was so gentle with my brother, never using any fast hand movements, and always talking with him in an even tone of voice. Kyle got stressed out if someone was yelling or raising their voice at him, which happened often enough during grade school, and later on. Kyle loved going out on weekends to be with them. I think intuitively they knew there was something different about Kyle than most other kids and they were protective of him.”
“Did any of the other kids bully him after that first time you waded into them?”
“No, because there’s only one school here in Hamilton and at that time, it had all twelve grades, plus the kindergarten, contained in it. Word got around fast about me shellacking those bullies.”
“That’s so stressful to anyone,” she murmured. “It’s tragic about the car accident.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, running his fingers through his short hair, “I think it killed my father in so many ways.”
“Oh?”
“My mom died of cancer when I was 16 and Kyle was 14.”
Reaching over, Jesse laid her hand on his arm. “What a horrible thing to happen. I’m so sorry, Travis. And poor Kyle. How did he take it?”
He patted her hand. “None of us took it well, as you could expect. Our grandparents picked up the slack after that and Inez made sure there was a woman’s presence in our lives. She would come over and clean house, do the washing, and take care of us kids. I don’t know if we’d do as well as we did if she hadn’t been part and parcel in our lives. My father was devastated. He loved my mother with every fiber of his being. He withdrew from us for a couple of years. At that time, as a teen, I didn’t understand mature love between two adults or the loss it created when one of them died. Sam had always loved us. But those years after our mother died, were tough on everyone. Sam withdrew and he wasn’t available like he’d been before. Hiram would make sure on weekends that we went fishing or hiking. During the winter, he taught us how to snowshoe and ski. It helped us a lot because they provided us with stability.”
“You lost half your family.” She looked toward the ceiling, holding the male pup—the only one with blue eyes—between her hands. “I don’t know how I could go on if half my family was gone, either.”
“You talk weekly with your parents, and I think that does you a lot of good. Doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it means the world to me. We’ve always been close.” She rolled her eyes. “And now with these symptoms, I can’t be around them because it’s too hard on all of us.” Giving him a tender look, she added, “Being here with you the last ten days, as kindred spirits of sorts, has been a real blessing to me. I’ve slept every night. I wake up with new, wonderful energy. I’m feeling hopeful again.”
“I can see the changes in you, Jesse, and they’re good ones from what I can tell.”
“You and the dogs are my touchstone,” she teased, giving him a wobbly smile. “Were you on deployment when Kyle died?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I didn’t get home until four months after it happened because I’d been on an undercover assignment in Pakistan. My father was an emotional wreck when I finally got home.”
“I’m sure he was devastated by it.”
“I felt guilty as hell for not being there for Kyle’s funeral or being a support for Sam…”
“You had your own grief to work through once you found out about it,” Jesse pointed out gently. “Did you ever get time for yourself when you were home on that thirty-day leave?”
Shaking his head, he growled, “No…not really. Sam had let the business slide and I had to step in and get it back on track. When I arrived back to Jalalabad after the leave was up, they offered me a huge sign-up enlistment bonus. I decided to leave the Army and go home. Kyle dying just took a huge chunk out of me and I no longer had the drive to do undercover work anymore.”
“The grief?”
“Yes, I think so. I was a mess inside, anyway.”
“That didn’t help you at all when you came home with the PTSD symptoms,” she said quietly, giving him a concerned look.
“It was a rough landing. My father had not taken care of the boxcar, or kept it livable, either.”
“Maybe out of grief?” she wondered, giving him a sympathetic look.
“I’ve thought that. So much of what Sam loved was taken from him in such a short amount of time. That caboose was a symbol of grief and bad memories for him, I think. He’s never spoken about it, but he let the boxcar go, never wanting to go out there.”
“You had a terrible first year home, then. I don’t know how you got through it.”
“I kept busy because Sam couldn’t care for the fishing guide business due to his mounting knee issues. I was too busy to try and keep my grandfather’s caboose clean and prepared for the winter.” He gave her a glance. “And here I am three years later, still unable to fix it up, paint it and keep it up like it used to be until you came along and breathed new life into it.”
She reached over, squeezing his hand resting on his thigh. “Maybe the spirits of your grandparents led me to it?”
“That’s a nice thought,” he said, turning his hand over, lacing his fingers between hers. “You’ve brought a lot of goodness here by coming to Hamilton, Jesse, and I feel you’re like a guardian angel of sorts to us. I felt so damned guilty about not caring for their home. It ate at me. You finding it and then helping me clean it up has taken a load off my shoulders.” He managed in a gruff growl, “You’re important to me, too. I just want you to know that. You’ve brought light into my dark world.”
She managed a weak smile. “I brought the dogs with me, too. I wasn’t sure you’d welcome them.”
He reluctantly released her hand, seeing a yearning in her eyes for the first time. It fed him hope. That look was of a woman desiring her man. Could he dare dream that she felt similar to how he felt toward her? It was a dizzying, shocking possibility. “You’re all welcome in my house,” he told her, his voice laced with emotion. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
*
November 20
“Hey,” Travis said, getting off the phone at his office, catching Jesse’s attention, “that was Nick Conway.”
“Yes?” she replied, poking her head up from her computer on the opposite side of the room.
“He and Holly have invited us over to Thanksgiving dinner. Want to go?”
She had met Nick and Holly a few days ago at their Delos charity in town. “That would be wonderful. You okay with it?”
“Sure.”
“I know Holly is pregnant. Does she want us to bring anything? Dessert? A casserole?”
“Why don’t you call her and ask?” He stood and walked across the office, handing her a piece of paper with their phone number on it.
“I will at lunch,” she said. “I really want to finish off this data list for you.”
He stood to the side of her desk. “You’re a fast typist.”
“Not that fast. Maybe eighty words a minute or something like that.” She had the files on one side of her desk and had to open each one to put the name, address and contact number into the program.
He looked around the quiet office. “Wait until next April, Jesse. This place is a beehive of business. A lot of nonstop activity.”
She stopped typing and looked up at him. The snow had fallen a few days ago, maybe a foot, and it had gotten very cold in the area. Since then, he had been wearing a dark brown leather vest over the flannel shirts he favored. “I think I’ll be ready for it.”
“You’re looking more relaxed every day,” he agreed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his Levi’s.
“Having a warm house, a roof over my head, you and the dogs? It has helped me so much. I guess I never realized until a day ago, how much we all need family or friends after returning home from combat. I was wondering last night before I fell asleep if maybe I should have stayed home with my parents and gutted it out.”
He nodded. “Most of my friends left their family home shortly after their return stateside. Those that didn’t were married and within a year, usually, they got a divorce.”
“I got lucky,” she said. “You were a survivor with symptoms like me and you knew what I needed, gave me the space and understanding.”
“I’m glad I could hold that space for you, Jesse. You deserve it.”
She gave him a tender look, fighting the need to stand up, wrap her arms around his broad shoulders and hug him. And kiss him. Quelling those needs, she said, “You’ve been a life preserver for me.”
“That and those frisky pups of Freya’s.”
Laughing, she said, “Hey, they are frisky! Galloping all over the place, finding their legs and balance. They’re a real joy in our lives.”
“They are. I was talking to Nick yesterday and he said to start training the pups to go to a newspaper to do their business. We should start doing that.”
“Good idea.”
“I’ve gotten several calls from people here in Hamilton who would really like one of these pups when they’re six weeks old.”
“I’ll talk to Holly about this and get some info from her on who these folks are. I’ll give her a call after lunch.”
At noon, they went home for lunch, got Freya outdoors for a bit, cleaned up after the pups who had found one particular area to do their business, and then, went upstairs, washed their hands and ate lunch together. Of course, Freya always sat near Travis, who spoiled her with tidbits. The dog knew who to beg from.
*
Jesse decided to drive over to the Delos charity in town after lunch to see Nick and Holly. Even though Holly was decidedly pregnant, Jesse found both of them on the first floor, helping the volunteer staff start dinner for the elderly shut-ins they served. She spotted Holly working at the gas stove stirring a huge pot of soup.
Nick waved hello to her. He was busy putting slices of bread into a baggy for each food tray coming his way from a volunteer. Waving back, she headed over to where Holly was standing. Her crinkly red hair fell below her shoulders, glinting in the overhead lights as she approached from the side so that Holly would see her coming.
“Hi, Jesse!” she said, setting the spoon down. Turning around, she hugged her.
“Busy as always, I see.”
“Yes.” She beamed releasing her. “Nick called Travis? Are you coming to our place for Thanksgiving? We’d just love to have you two over there with us.”
“We are. But Travis forgot to ask if we could bring anything over for the meal?”
“Oh, heavens no, Jesse. Just bring yourselves and don’t dress up, okay? You’re family.”
She warmed to that thought. But then, Holly was a super-mother type. “How’s the pregnancy going?”
She moved her hand across her swollen abdomen beneath a pink flannel shirt that hung to her hips. “Fine. I’m out of that first trimester of morning sickness, thank goodness. Poor Nick, he had to take over here for me during that time because just the smell of food made me nauseated.”
Wrinkling her nose, Jesse muttered, “Not good.”
Stirring the bean soup with ham hock in it, Holly laughed. “I’m still getting used to walking around with this basketball in front of me. My whole sense of balance has shifted. On some days, it’s okay, but on others I wobble around a bit until I find my new center.”
Jesse laughed. “And your doctor said everything is fine?”
“Oh,” Holly said, “Dr. Paige Alanas, is wonderful. She says I’m fine. I’m on some pregnancy vitamins, is all. I’m hoping for a home birth. She has two midwives from Missoula who will be coming down here closer to the due date.”
“No Christmas baby, huh?” she teased, grinning.
Holly smiled. “No, but that’s okay. Hey, how are you and Travis getting along?” Her blue eyes danced with merriment.
Heat flowed up her neck and into her cheeks. “Well…fine.”
“Gossip has it that he’s sweet on you.” She lowered her voice. “Is that true, Jesse?”
Moving from foot to foot, she avoided Holly’s gaze for a moment. “I’ve only known him since November first.”
“Hmmmm, well, my sources tell me that you two would make a very nice couple.”
She looked away. “I guess I don’t feel ready for much of anything, Holly.”
“Oh, because of your PTSD? You know, Nick has those awful symptoms, too.” She made a flourish with her hand. “But we fell in love pretty fast. And he’s the first to tell you that since we started living together that a lot of his symptoms have decreased. That’s good news. I was just wondering if you two had noticed that, living in the same cabin and all.”
There was no getting around Holly. Giving her a weak smile, Jesse admitted, “We’ve both seen a reduction in our stress levels and anxiety since we’ve been under one roof because of Freya and her puppies.”
“That’s good to hear. I think you’re perfect for Travis. Do you know how sad his family background is? The guy truly deserves something nice to happen to him! He’s so responsible, good-hearted and tries his best to make things work, but his father, Sam, is a miserable person to be around when he’s in pain. I have shut-ins who are in pain all the time, and they get like that. But who can blame them? Travis really deserves someone like you. Your kind, you work hard and you do good by others.” She reached out, touching Jesse’s forearm. “You do like him, don’t you?”
“Can I keep it a secret between us, Holly? I do like him, but I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“That I’m so broken by the symptoms I have. I’m not a whole person and I don’t know if I’ll ever get back to the way I was before it happened.”
“Pooh! Nick has symptoms. One day, he and Travis were challenging one another on who had the most symptoms and which one has the worst ones.” She grinned and patted Jesse’s arm. “I married Nick because he was a decent, kind person. He was honest and up front about his issues. There was nothing there that I didn’t feel I couldn’t work with or compromise on.”
“Has he gotten better since he met you?” she asked, hopefully. Holly’s eyes gleamed.
“Yes, much better! Are they gone? No. But you know, when you love someone, that’s a medicine that the pharmaceutical companies can’t create. It’s the best medicine in the world!”
“You give me hope,” she murmured, giving her a grateful look.
“If you two can live under one roof now and your love for one another isn’t even out in the open yet? And you both feel better as a result of being with each other?” She laughed and shook her head. “Let’s see.” She held up her hand, spreading her fingers. “I will bet you anything that by Christmas you two will be engaged!”