CHAPTER 9
November 23
The next morning Jesse awoke to find a foot of new snow on the ground. She pushed the heavy drapes aside and peered out the window. The cabin had stands of pines behind it, beyond the large yard and a nearby meadow. Looking up, she saw the gray sky was clearing and growing brighter. She’d awakened at six a.m. and today, she was going to be working at Katie’s Koffee Bean for the afternoon. She keyed her hearing and left the window, padding barefoot across the cool cedar floor and picking up her yellow chenille bathrobe, pulling it over her green flannel granny gown that fell to her ankles.
Her heart centered on Travis and their long, searching talk with one another yesterday. She dreamt about him last night and it was filled with sweet promise. Cracking the door open, she heard him puttering around in the kitchen. Freya had come up from the basement, the door always open for her to come and go as she pleased, the clacking of her paws against the wooden floor announcing her arrival. Travis was usually up at five without fail and Freya had gotten used to being fed around six.
Smiling to herself, she gathered her toiletry articles and quietly walked across the hall to the large bathroom. She could smell bacon frying and knew Freya was VERY fond of this particular meat. As she went into the bathroom, she caught sight of Travis cooking at the gas stove. Freya was sitting alertly nearby, probably hoping for a tidbit. Her heart expanded with an explosion of silent joy. Closing the door, she turned on the shower.
Their talk still lingered within her and she felt more and more hope. There was something so special about Travis. Most men she’d experienced had never fessed up like he did. She’d always hungered for just this kind of deep, trusting talk between herself and a man. She knew he was trying to communicate better and it touched her deeply. Learning so much more about his family was an important key to understanding him and seeing how much pressure he was under with an incapacitated father. She would guess that the deeper worry in Travis was that his father would die too soon and he’d already lost most of his family. Her heart went out to him, to all the loads he silently carried with integrity and responsibility.
After washing her hair with tangerine-scented shampoo, she noted her black strands were growing quickly. Allowing the warm streams to wash the soap off her body, her mind drifted. Her life had gone from zero to a hundred in less than a month here in Hamilton. Just thinking about it on some days scared the hell out of her. And on other days like this one, it felt so right and she was incredibly grateful for the turn in her luck after the three nightmare months before that.
Pulling on a pair of jeans, warm, thick socks, and a sweater she’d brought from home—a lavender one with a crew neck—she was ready for the day ahead. Feeling tentative, but wanting to be out in the kitchen with Travis and Freya, she drew a comb through her damp hair, the slight curls put into place. Next, she brushed her teeth and then pushed the steamy door open.
Freya perked up instantly, whirled around and clattered across the living room, greeting her at the end of the hall, tail wagging with gusto.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” Jesse laughed, leaning down and petting Freya as she whirled around and around in a circle in front of her. It was her “happy dance.” She loved the dog’s blue eyes, seeing such love shining in them for her alone.
“Better hurry,” Travis called over his shoulder, transferring the last of the bacon to a paper towel filled basket, “Freya has her eyes on the prize here. We might not get any for breakfast, Jesse.”
Laughing, she walked over to the table with the prancing dog at her side. “She loves bacon, no question.”
He glanced over at her, setting the iron skillet on the burner, and then turning it off. “So, do we.”
We. The word was a promise filled with possibilities and she knew it more than ever as he met her gaze. Never had a man’s eyes spoken so wonderfully to her. “You’re right about that. What can I do to help out?”
“Coffee just got done,” he said, motioning toward it on the counter.
“Mmmm, that was great timing.” She poured two cups.
“I’m making scrambled eggs with venison, green peppers, potatoes and onions. Interested?”
She brought his cup over to the stove where he stood. “Very.”
“You’re going over to Katie’s at one p.m. today, right?” he asked, taking another skillet and brushing the inside of it with some bacon grease.
She settled her hips against the counter, watching him cook. “Yes. Why?”
He looked out the window over the sink. “It snowed last night. I was wondering if, after breakfast, you’d like to go hunt up a little Christmas tree that you could put in your red caboose?”
“That sounds wonderful.” She gazed toward the living room. “Aren’t you going to have a tree in here, Travis?”
“Always,” he promised, cracking six eggs into the skillet. “I have a favorite place where the family always put a tree up for the holidays. I thought you might like to tag along?”
“I’d love too. Can Freya come? The snow’s too deep for her pups. But I bet she’d love to be outdoors for a while.”
“Good idea.”
*
Sunlight sent golden shafts down through the ragged gray cloud layer that drifted silently over them, the cold front having passed through their region last night. Travis had driven off road for about a mile and braked the truck to a stop. There was a slight knoll sprinkled heavily with blue spruce all over it, just in front of them. The trees were of varying ages and heights. Freya bounded out of the pickup, joyfully leaping like a bounding rabbit through the pristine, undisturbed snow that was up to her belly in some places. The wind had knocked off much of the snow covering the branches of the spruce. It was just below freezing and Jesse had worn her lavender knit hat, her very worn winter gloves, plus a nylon down coat that fell over her hips. She carried a small saw with sharp teeth in her right hand. Her hair had grown enough to cover her neck and it snugly protected that part from exposure.
Travis was just a step ahead of her and she skipped forward, grabbing his right gloved hand. He turned his head, surprise in his expression. But then, as she curved her fingers into his, that look turned her body into one big ache of wanting to love this man. She was having what she termed a “good day.” Was it because she was outside in the crisp, cold air? The bright sun beating down upon them off and on? The natural beauty of Montana grabbing her, making her grateful to be in Hamilton? The Rocky Mountains surrounded them and were clothed in white snow. Their blue granite flanks were mostly covered below the ten-thousand-foot line with a thick, green carpeting of forest. Everything felt so alive, overflowing with hope for Jesse. She loved days like this because they were so rare. To see that burning look of longing in Travis’s eyes made her lower body ache with a desire of its own. Somehow, she knew he would be a tender lover who treated his woman as an equal, not seen as something to be used and regarded as less than human. There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
Nothing needed to be said as she walked close to him, luxuriating in him being a consummate male. She hadn’t thought about sex in so long—until recently, that is. Never one to act on her needs unless she was in a serious relationship, it felt good to feel the return of her old self. Jesse didn’t expect it to last long. It hadn’t before. She wanted to celebrate her old self that had resurfaced. Later, she would end up grieving when it submerged once more beneath the symptoms of the PTSD. Travis definitely brought out her old, healthy self, there was no question!
“Well,” he said, “take a look at these trees. Grandfather and I used to come up every spring and plant at least five or six seedlings. Over the years they would grow. That’s why the area has so many trees of different ages and heights.”
“That’s a wonderful thing to do,” she said.
“See any you’d like to check out?”
Squinting against the sudden burst of bright sunlight passing across them as the clouds parted overhead, she allowed herself to be deluged with her own feelings toward Travis. Leaning her head against his upper arm for a moment, she nodded. His hand tightened around hers in response, reaction to her carefree contact. Lifting her head, she melted beneath the burning look he gave her. He was enjoying this outing as much as she was. “Maybe we should take more days outside like this?”
Nodding, she smiled. “I love being outdoors.” And then she added shyly, “With the right person, of course: you.” There was pleasure in his expression over her softened admittance.
“Let’s make a date to do something at least once a week? Look at Freya. She’s going crazy running around, just pure jubilance.”
Laughing, she watched their dog go zooming in and around the smaller and larger pines, weaving in and out of them at lightning speed, snow kicked up in sparkling, diamond-like veils from beneath her hind feet. “I think it’s because she knows she’s going to live, not die. That her pups will go to people who will love them as much as she does and we do.” Her pink tongue was hanging out the side of her mouth and she was a blur of motion, immense energy and shameless exuberance.
“This is the first time she’s really gotten outside the yard to go stretch herself,” Travis murmured. “I know that breed needs a lot of exercise. I think after the pups have left, I’ll take her with me because often, I’ll drive the truck to some of our fishing spots. It’s outside of town and I can let her stretch her legs and do what she was bred to do.”
“What?” she laughed. “Herd sheep? Don’t tell me you’re going to buy a flock for her?”
Joining her laughter, Travis shook his head. “I’ve been reading up on Border Collies. And I went online and found a photo of her with her old owner Stella. Freya has won many championships in sheep herding.”
“I wonder if she’s happier being with us or misses being at those shows?”
“I don’t know. But judging by how she’s racing around? I’ll bet we could give her a home where she’d get all kinds of exercise. It might not be herding sheep, but she could go out with me on fishing guide expeditions. Some of them are overnight. She’d be a good watchdog out there for us, too. Or, when we hike a trail together. I’m sure she’d love that.”
Jesse warmed to his words that she was sure had just unconsciously slipped from him: I’ll bet we could give her a good home. Her heart ballooned fiercely with what she knew was love for Travis. No longer did she try to deny it. Today, she wasn’t frightened of an unsure future because of her own shortcomings. It was the magic of this morning, the freezing temperature combined with golden slats of sunshine pouring down on the valley. And being with him in one of the most beautiful spots she could ever want to be a part of. It conspired to allow her to dream right along with Travis. Later, perhaps, she would bring what he said to his attention. It was something she wanted to explore with him.
*
Once Jesse discovered a little four-foot Scotch pine and Travis chose a six-foot tall one for the corner of his cabin, the hard part was done. After cutting them down, he dragged both of them back to his truck. Jesse helped him place them in the truck bed and tie them down so they wouldn’t get blown out on the trip back to town. Later, over hot coffee in the cab, he wanted to continue their talk from last night. The engine was running and the heater on, Freya in the rear cab seat panting happily from her nonstop running around. This morning Jesse seemed almost as if she were skipping along in the snow like a happy child instead of an adult who carried untold, invisible loads that weighed down her soul. Did their opening up to one another, do it? He wasn’t sure but he wanted to find out.
“About last night?”
“Yes.”
“You seem lighter today, Jesse. I was wondering if our talk made you feel better?” Or worse, but he bit back those words. He hoped not and watched her grow contemplative over his question.
“You know how I’ve told you before that I have a few good days and mostly the rest are bad days?”
“Yes, and I can validate that symptom for sure. Ups and downs. I hated them, but I had to deal with them. I’m sure you’re no different.”
“The same,” she agreed, crossing one ankle over her knee, slouching back in the comfortable seat and appreciating the beauty before her.
“I was wondering if you are having a normal ‘up’ day. I want to think our talk last night lifted some loads off you, not add to them?”
She rolled her head to the left, meeting his dark, searching gaze. “It was the talk, I’m sure of that, Travis. And I feel that because of it, I woke up this morning feeling happier than I can recall in a long, long time.” She reached out, placing her hand on his thick, hard thigh, his Levi’s damp from kneeling down in the snow to cut the trunk of the tree off. “For the first time since I got nailed with the symptoms, I felt like a giddy six-year-old this morning. I don’t normally have happy emotions bubbling up through me like this. They used to before I got hit with PTSD, but not since then.” His expression showed relief.
“I hope that with my being with you that you’ll have more ups than downs.”
“That would be lovely,” she sighed, closing her eyes momentarily. “I lost my ability to dream over a year ago. From what the shrink who saw me at Bagram said, it wasn’t unusual to stop dreaming. That crushed me because I used to dream every night and looked forward to it.”
“Did you dream last night?” It was a bold, intimate question and Travis held his breath, watching her stare through the windshield at the picture postcard that surrounded them as she digested his question.
“It was a happy dream, Travis.”
“Have you had many since your symptoms came on?”
“No. I had one the first night I slept in your grandparents’ caboose in that new bed you’d bought for it.” She removed her hand from his thigh and gestured toward the beauty outside. “I want to think that it’s because of us, the connection we’re forging with one another. You give me hope and now, after that talk last night, it just feels more solid between us. I can’t exactly describe it, Travis, but it makes me feel good, more confident in myself. Most of all, I was seeing bits and pieces of my old self this morning that I thought were dead and gone.” Her voice changed and grew husky. “I almost wanted to cry from the sheer joy of rediscovering those parts of me that weren’t really dead, just missing in action.”
“Then,” he said, smiling faintly, “whatever is going on between us is good, Jesse. I feel the same way: I’m reawakening to parts of myself that I thought were gone forever, too.”
“But they aren’t.”
“No…you’re a miracle to me, Jesse. Magical. With you, I’m beginning to connect once more with the small, but important, things that make my life worth living again.”
She sat there, sponging in his low, rumbling admissions. “I like how you see things, Travis. I don’t know that I feel very magical…a unicorn missing her horn, I suppose…”
“Take it from me,” he teased, “you’re a unicorn in disguise.”
Managing a slight, nervous smile she said, “On a day like today? I’m optimistic once more. Before, I always was, until that night in the village…it was destroyed.”
“Or so you thought?” he probed, hearing the pain in her lowered tone.
“Yes…until now…”
“I was that way the first year, too. Over time, getting into a different rut with something I loved, which is fishing, I slowly started to feel again. Being out in nature has helped me tremendously.”
“Good and bad feelings?” Jesse wondered, holding his thoughtful gaze.
“Both.”
“What about your old self, Travis? Has it ever returned?”
He sighed and rested his hands on the steering wheel. “I didn’t know the man inside me at all. The anxiety ripped me apart. I’d never felt like that before except out on missions. And it would always simmer down or go away when we were back behind the wire. Over time, the anxiety remained around for longer periods of time. It would simmer at first, but built up stronger the more time I spent over there outside the wire. I was at a rolling boil, the anxiety and hyper-alertness not going away. By the time I got home, I was high strung and super sensitive to everything, especially to noise. That’s why I hid. I went to work, still adjusting, and glad to be going home at night to a quiet, dark cabin to be alone.”
“You needed that.”
“Very much so. Just,” and he waved his finger in the direction of Hamilton, “like you need the red caboose right now. I really do understand where you’re at in your healing process, Jesse.” His mouth thinned for a moment. “The bad news is that only you can change it over time. The good news is I found that by letting a few people I trusted into my life, the anxiety began to smooth out to a degree. That was a huge gift to my quality of life.”
“I have you and Freya,” she noted humbly.
“Holly, Nick, Sue, Emily and Katie, too. They all adore you. There are good people surrounding you and that’s what it takes: friends and family. You’re close to your parents, also.”
“They all help me,” she acknowledged. “I guess I’m pretty lucky because you’re one of the people supporting me, too.”
“This is what it takes,” he said somberly. “There’s a lot of men and women out there who have major challenges when they get home.”
“You have your father.”
“I had my grandparents, too, who gave me a solid foundation growing up.”
“You’ve said Hiram was a good person and I believe you. He doesn’t sound like he was abusive to me, and you felt he was sort of like a second father to you. What was the rub between him and Sam?”
“I think I know. Sam has always been the rebellious one in our family. Everyone else was hard working, responsible and kept the strong family unit going. Sam was very different.”
“Who do you take after more?”
“My mother and my grandparents. That’s probably why Sam continues to this day to accuse me of being like my grandfather.”
“Do you think he was jealous?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Was there some change in your family that might have made him this way?”
“My mother dying so young. She and Sam were deeply in love. It was what I’d term a loving marriage.”
“Did Sam like being a father?”
Travis studied her for a moment. “He was uncomfortable in that role might be a better way to say it. Hiram and Inez came by it naturally, like my mother did. He had to learn how to be a father. There was never a question that he didn’t love us, though. My mother quietly showed him how to be close with us, to be a guide of sorts and he took to it. When Hiram retired, he bought the red caboose and put it out in that meadow near the river. My Gram Inez loved that clearing. She had helped my grandfather decorate the interior of the place. A lot of what you see in the caboose is her creativity. Hiram was responsible for rebuilding the boxcar, which is what he worked on after he retired.”
“They were really happy in the caboose.”
“Both of them loved it. Gram was a very private person, very loving to all of us, but she needed a lot of peace and quiet, too. She was shy, but well loved by everyone in Hamilton. She did a lot of charity work in town for others who had less than they did.”
“I wish I could have met them,” she sighed, giving him a tender smile.
“They were good people, Jesse. Hard working, solid and reliable.”
“But Sam was the rebellious one in the family. What were his dreams, I wonder?”
“He wanted to leave Hamilton and become a globe trotter. He liked adventures and challenges. Unlike the others in our family, he didn’t see getting married or raising children as a top priority. They were way down on his scale of important things he wanted to do. He was in his late teens and into his twenties, and that’s a time when a lot of people do risk taking. It wasn’t wrong. Hiram never blamed him for what he chose to do, but Sam, I think, at that time, was too immature to understand what he’d like to have seen from him. It caused a lot of friction between them.”
“Did Hiram lean on him to conform, then?”
He gave her a congratulatory look. “My grandfather was a very disciplined man, very organized and responsible. His top priority was that the eldest son of the next generation gets settled down, gets married and has children. Sam wanted nothing to do with that idea, so they fought all the time.”
“Wow, that would be rough to live around,” she agreed.
“Sam has held it against Hiram for all time and I don’t know if he never forgave him,” he said wearily. “Even today, he’s fighting battles from back then, dragging them up and throwing them in my face on his darker, pain-filled days.”
“Wasn’t your fault,” she muttered, her brows dipping, seeing the angst in his expression.
“No, I was a convenient whipping post, was all.”
“I saw many Afghan families who were completely dysfunctional. It was always the children who suffered.” She reached out and laid her hand on his arm, feeling the tension in it created by their discussion.
“Yeah, I saw a lot of that same thing while over there. Really sad.”
“It’s tough to deal with your father on a bad day?”
“It is. I try not to personalize it. I understand the past, how it happened and how Sam reacted to it. He was a square peg being forced to fit into the round hole of our family expectations and traditions. Getting busted up on the bull riding circuit in his early twenties didn’t help matters. And today, it’s running his life with his joint problems.”
“I’ve always loved my growing up years and value them more than ever before.”
“No skeletons in your family closet?” he asked, smiling thinly.
“Not that I know of. My parents are farm people and they are part of a multi-generation who came to Montana in the 1800s. I’m not much into genealogy, so I’m sure there’s got to be some skeletons laying around somewhere.”
“My grandparents lived in a cabin in Hamilton near our shop before they moved to the red caboose. Kyle and I were lucky and grew up with them nearby.”
“It sounds like you all got along?”
“Yes, we did. Kyle and I were spoiled rotten. What about your parents? What is your mom like?”
“My mom is a registered nurse and I wanted to follow in her footsteps. Grandma Susannah was a nurse. She was one of the first young women who went to school and got a job in the 1920s when it wasn’t popular for a woman to be out of the kitchen or home.”
“Is your mother a feminist, too?”
“Absolutely. We all believe in equality with males. We’re no one’s slave.”
“How did your mom take you going into the military?”
“She was fine with it. My dad worried a lot, but supported me, anyway. And things went fine until that one night in-country.” Jesse wrinkled her nose, not wanting to discuss it.
“Someday,” he began in a low tone, holding her saddened-looking eyes, “you might look back in three or four years and have the words to give to your parents so they understand why you had to leave the military and start your healing journey.”
She reached out and he closed his hand over hers. “I want that so badly. They’re so confused about me. They’re trying hard to understand where I’m at and the blame lies on me and not on them. I don’t know how to tell them about my symptoms. We have weekly phone calls and we all feel better after getting to talk with one another.”
“Are your grandparents still alive?”
“No, unfortunately. I miss them terribly. My grandfathers were in the Army and I think they’d understand if they were alive, what’s happened to me.”
“Usually your brothers and sisters in the service will always understand.”
“It was a load off my shoulders when you offered me Wi-Fi, Travis. I got in touch with my old unit and I connected with them once again.” She looked up at the cab ceiling. “It was so hard not to cry. I never realized how much they cared for me until that call.”
“Military connections just don’t break with time or stress,” he said, nodding.
“Well, I have been calling the captain every week. Most of the other guys are in schooling here stateside. He’s given me their phone numbers and I’ve been talking with all of them. It was scary at first, but after a while, I was so glad that I did it.” She wiped her eyes as they filled with tears. “Of late, I’ve become so emotional.”
“Because you’re healing now, Jesse. Tears come when you feel in a safe place with people who are surrounding and supporting you.”
“You mean I’m doing something normal?” It was supposed to come out as a joke, but her voice broke as she struggled not to let more tears form.
He released her hand and caressed the back of her hair. “It’s okay to cry. It’s good for us. What do you say we go home? We’ll drop the trees off and then I’ll take you for lunch up at Sue’s Yellow Rose Diner.”
She managed a wobbling smile and sat up. “That sounds like a great start to my day. Let’s go…”
Putting the truck in gear, Travis slowly turned around on the fairly narrow road. The shoulders were solid and soon he was driving out of the pristine area. He could see Jesse fighting a sudden surge of emotion, talking about the team who she was assigned to. That heart-tie could never be erased or destroyed. She was uncomfortable allowing him to see her tears and he hoped that he’d handled the situation correctly. The protective male in him wanted to sweep her into his arms, hold her tight while she sobbed out all her grief from that night. True, he didn’t know what had happened, but one day, he might.
Braking at the stop sign, he turned to the right, heading down the road about mile from where they’d make the turn to the red caboose. It felt right that she wanted to live there with Freya. In his imagination, he wondered if the spirits of his grandfather and grandmother were there to welcome her, to make her feel safe and loved. It was funny how a boxcar could hold so many treasured memories. But it did. Travis was glad that Jesse was in his life, living in that boxcar that still permeated with love. Giving her a glance, he saw her wiping her eyes with a tissue and then stuffing it into her pocket. Someday, he hoped, he wouldn’t have to rein in what his heart wanted to do for her. What she needed right now was to be held. And he was the right person to do just that.