Not much had changed in Elkridge, and that's what Thad had counted on. The sleepy little town nestled between two mountain ridges was exactly what he needed. No major shopping malls. No loud construction noises. No fast movements that put his military-honed senses on high alert and reminded him of a place he didn’t want to remember.

“Hey, Coach.”

The owner of Tool Shed dropped his chin to look over the top of his bifocals. The years had put a little more weight around Bill’s middle, and he was a bit more hunched at the shoulders, but his old football coach was still sharp and observant. There were few things in life Thad was grateful for—Bill Mason was one of them.

“Howdy, Thad. My son-in-law said you were in the other day. How are the repairs coming?”

Thad grabbed the brim of his ball cap, lifted, and scratched his head. “That cabin needs a ton of work. I came in for some caulking and weather stripping, and I need to order a window.” Thad pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Got something with those dimensions?”

Bill accepted the scrap and peered through the bottom of his lenses. “I don’t have anything in stock, but I can order it for you.” He waited for Thad’s nod, then walked around the counter and pulled the rest of the items off the shelf. “Anything else you need?”

“That’ll do for now. I just need to fix the holes before I freeze to death. Going from the desert heat to the mountain air is a shock to the system.”

“Just as bad as coming back from ’Nam and the humidity.” Bill rang up the supplies. “That will be five bucks even.”

Thad added up the price on the sales stickers. “I might have barely passed algebra, but I can still add, sir.” He threw a ten on the counter. “Keep the change.”

“Stop with the sir crap. I don’t see any officers around here.”

“Yes, sir.” Thad’s mouth twitched, and his chest rumbled with a snicker.

“Still a stubborn shit.” Bill snatched the money off the counter and shoved it into the cash register drawer. “It’s not much, but I’ve got a couch you can sleep on till that window comes in. You’d be warm at least.”

Not looking for handouts. “Thanks, Coach, but I’m good.”

“Figured you’d say that.” Bill placed the items in a brown paper bag. “We’re having a meeting tonight over at the lodge to discuss our volunteer rescue training calendar. Why don’t you stop by, meet some of the guys? We even have a few ladies in the group now.”

Matchmaking? Please…not you too. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass. Besides, I need to find something I can do to put food on the table.”

“The Army should have set you up with a pension with ten years in.”

“They did, but money doesn’t stick around when there’s a family to support. My mom lost her job and hasn’t been able to find work.”

“I’d give you a job, but—”

“I’m not asking for charity, Coach. I’ve got enough for now.” He capped off his irritation by attempting a smile. “I’ll find something in time.”

“I talked to the town council last month about creating jobs to keep our young folk here. Too many are joining the military and coming back busted up. It’s either working the ski resorts or construction, with not much in between. I heard they got some openings at the Elkridge Lodge.”

“That snobby place? No, thanks. I’d rather do construction. ’Cause skiing is out.” Never could afford those lift prices.

The store bell rang just as Bill was winding up for another soapbox rant.

The storeowner shoved his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “Hey, Rivers. I was just telling young Thad here about our meeting tonight.”

Rivers Black walked toward them with a slow, methodical gait. With each footfall, he measured Thad—the boy then, and the man now.

“Rivers,” Thad greeted.

“Lopez.” Rivers’ eyes squinted to continue the assessment.

Thad recalled the night his racist father tried to teach the “Injun” a lesson. His father misjudged the Native American, just like his dad misjudged most everything else in his pathetic life.

“How was hunting season?” Thad asked to be courteous.

“Freezer’s full.”

“You still making jewelry, belts, and stuff?”

“Yep.”

The grunted responses were typical, yet soothing. Another reminder not much had changed in Elkridge. Thad nodded and waited until the stillness started to become uneasy. “I’d better get going.”

“What about the meeting?” Bill looked to Rivers. “You’re the training coordinator, tell him what’s on the agenda, Black.”

Rivers watched Thad like a hawk scanning the ground for its prey. “He’ll come, or he won't. A man must make his choices.”

A déjà vu chill ran up Thad’s arms. One of his drill sergeants said the same thing. Over the years Thad had wondered how his life would have turned out if his dad hadn’t made so many bad choices.

“Maybe I’ll stop in another time.” The way Bill was looking at him meant a lecture was coming, and he wasn’t in the mood. Thad grabbed his bag of supplies to disguise his growing anxiety and backed toward the door. “Thanks, Bill. Rivers.”

Bill walked around the counter. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

“Yes, sir.” Thad gave him a friendly salute, then pushed open the door, laughing at the curmudgeon’s annoyed expression.

He might be crankier than an old Buick, but Bill Mason understood. The Marine had brought his military discipline home to Elkridge, and used it to knock some sense into the high school football players. Fortunately, Thad was one of them.

Thad dropped the supplies in the truck bed by Custer’s kennel. “Hey, bud. Want to go see Karly and visit all your friends?”

Thad didn’t wait for a response, just slid in behind the wheel, and a few seconds later backed out of the parking space. Pulling into Helper Shelters dirt parking lot, he parked at one of the marked spaces denoted by a half-buried tire painted canary yellow.

He paused to slow his breath and let his determination kick in. He pocketed his keys. He wouldn’t tolerate any more of that polite “howdy-do, and here’s a dog to train” crap. This time he’d get a truthful answer, one way or another.

“Stay.” He opened the door of Custer’s travel crate. “Good boy.” He pulled a treat out of his jeans pocket and held out his palm. The dog lifted the nugget gently instead of lunging. “That’s a good boy.” Thad adjusted the dog’s lead.

“Come,” he motioned. Custer jumped off the tailgate, but went no farther. The attentive dog’s stare gave him a jolt of pride. Now that’s progress. He shortened the leash strap for the dog to heel and made his way toward the building.

He soaked in the sight of the old industrial shipping containers. The blue metal structures were lined up side by side, creating the inexpensive kennel framing just as he and Karly planned during their long-ago summer vacations. He was impressed, and a little sad. At fourteen, she’d shared her dream, and he hadn’t been here to watch it grow.

Rows of wire fences surrounded the twenty-by-forty-foot kennels, and dogs could go outside or back into their holding pens through swinging doors drilled into the sides. A large, painted sign and old-fashioned lights, most likely also recycled, hung off the top of the first of six containers.

Just inside the customer entrance, the scents of borax, lavender, and vanilla wafted and twisted together. Karly ran an orderly business—not that he expected anything less. An oversized corkboard displayed the current month's schedule of training classes, thank-you notes, and pictures of adoption candidates. He stopped at the tidy reception desk.

“Karly?” he called out, then listened for a response.

When there was no answer, he moved closer to the reception desk and spied a small office in the back, jam-packed with file cabinets, a desk and a computer. It, too, was empty. He moved across the lobby and pushed open the kennel door marked with an employees-only sign. “Karly?”

A chorus of barks greeted him. He moved down the center of the wired cages. Custer trotted alongside with a look-at-me attitude while he ignored his former fellow inmates—the cocky bastard.

Thad averted his gaze, unprepared for the emotional tug. He hated seeing abandoned animals in cages. The shivers of fear. The mistrustful eyes. The tail-wagging hopefulness.

Halfway through the kennel area, he realized none of those traits existed for Karly’s dogs. They were happy and healthy and well-adjusted, but that didn’t mean he could leave Custer behind. He might have had reason to dump off the dog and let Karly deal with the consequences, but he couldn’t force himself to do it.

“Damn dog.” Custer looked at him from the corner of his eye, and he swore he saw the mutt smile. “Dog poop. That’s what you are. A big ol’ pile of steamy, lovable, brown crap. Don’t you look at me with those aren’t-I-cute eyes.”

He yanked open the back door and stopped just a few feet inside the large open space, with the rollup steel door at the back.

There you are. He couldn’t help but pause and take in the beauty.

Karly’s legs were long and smooth as a gentle sip of bourbon, going down nice and slow, and just as hot. She never had a need for makeup or nail polish. Today, she’d pulled her midnight, shoulder-length hair through the back of her Rockies baseball cap. Her muscles moved and stretched and stirred some good memories.

Custer impatiently nudged his leg, wanting to visit his former trainer. At Thad’s silent command, the dog sat close, this time not on his foot. He forced the images of his first and only love back into the mental tin can where he stored things he didn’t want to think about. In fact, he just wanted apathy to take over so the rest of the world and his memories would just leave him be.

She dropped a forty-pound bag of dog food on the tailgate and went to move another from the back of the white pickup truck. When lifting the next load, she winced, and then carefully stretched.

Yep, same ol’ Karly.

Never one to ask for help.

Always pushing too hard.

He released a frustrated breath. Never pass a fault. His unit’s military motto, instilled into each soldier, and mentioned in every class session, field exercise, and battle instruction meeting. Commanding officers and trainers repeating the essence of doing it right over and over again. Check your equipment. Check your buddy. Stop and help.

When Karly rubbed her lower back again, he stepped out of the shadows.

“Let me help you with that.”

She pivoted in his direction, then dropped her arms to her sides. “Would you stop sneaking up on me?”

“I’m not sneaking. The dogs barking should have given you fair warning.”

“I was thinking about something else.”

Possibly the guilt you’re feeling about lying to me?

He approached with Custer and tied the dog’s lead to her truck’s side mirror, then picked up the closest bag.

She waved him off. “I got this.”

Nope. Not letting you brush me off. We have a score to settle. “Where do you store this stuff? And don’t be a hardhead.”

Hands on hips, she did her best to stare him down, but the military had trained him in the art of patience, to wait, quietly, and let the silence wage war. After a couple of huffed-out breaths, she pointed to the organized six-foot metal racks of pet bowls, towels, and other essentials. “You can put the food on the shelf over there.”

He picked up the second bag, but probably shouldn’t have. Every pebble and stick fragment embedded in his leg reminded him of the reasons he shouldn’t play hero. His muscles complained about the extra weight. When he set the supplies where Karly had directed, he went back for more.

“You’re limping.”

Noticed that, did ya? “It’s nothing.”

The sentiment in her words indicated she cared, but she didn’t. Not about him. Ten years ago, she’d managed to stick a knife where it could do the most damage. The scar had turned ugly and gnarled.

“Are you okay?” Her concern pushed him deeper into the angry cesspool.

Not even close. “It’s nothing time won’t heal.”

He could do without the look of sympathy. In fact, he could do without a lot of things.

She lifted two bags on her second trip with a huff and a grunt. Yep, just like always. He hid his frustration and dropped the last two bags on the double stack. “Aren’t you curious why I came by today?”

Her stunning amber eyes that were almost a perfect match to his turned his way. “I figured you’d get around to it eventually.”

Fine. You want to play games, I’ll play.

Karly wasn’t the only one who could wield willfulness like a weapon. He could give her a workout, but not today. Today he wanted answers, and tightened his grip on his resentment. “Okay. It’s been eating at me for ten years, and I need to know, why Brad Clairemont?”

“Why Brad, what?” The squinting confusion in her eyes made him pause. “He’s the only veterinarian here in town. In order to run my business, I’m required to have a vet on record.”

“I’m not talking about your business.”

“Then what are you talking about?

“Are you going to deny it?” He leaned against the truck bed, working to keep years of bitterness from burning a hole in his stomach. “Two weeks. Only two weeks after I left, you started sleeping with him.”

She gripped the tailgate until her knuckles lost all color. “Who told you that? I’ve never dated, much less slept with, Brad Clairemont. Everyone knows he’s a jerk.”

Nice try. How about the truth? No way would he allow her belligerence to ease her out of an apology. She owed him that much.

“My sister saw you at Brad’s house.”

“Your sister?” Incredulity made her voice soar up an octave.

She pushed away from the truck, paced a few steps and then back, with a skeptical laugh, yanking on the end of the ponytail sticking out the back of her ball cap. “And you believed her? You believed the one person who was always trying to drive a wedge between us?” Her eyes went distant and glazed. A puff of air snorted from her nose. “After all this time…”

The sarcastic pinch of her mouth intensified his ire. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re an idiot—a stupid idiot. That’s what that means.” She turned and pushed him, then again, a bit harder. “Go away. If you think I could have slept with someone just weeks after you left…just go away.”

She turned toward the kennel area, but he latched on to her arm. “Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to walk away. I want an answer.”

“You mean walk away like you did? And let go, you’re hurting me.” She ripped her arm back. “You never even called to tell me you were leaving. You just left.”

“I would have if my dad hadn’t smashed my phone.” At the same time he was busy busting my nose and cracking my ribs. “I stopped by your house and told Kenny I needed to leave town—that I was joining up.”

“Yes, you told Kenny. You didn’t tell me.” The fire in her eyes cooled and turned a shade of sad. “We had plans. We were going to move to Ft. Collins—get our degrees.”

Your plans, not mine. “I still want an answer.”

“You don’t deserve an answer.”

“Okay.” He held out his hands, palms out. “I’m sorry I left town without letting you know first.” The apology sounded half-assed, probably because it was, but her expression and the way she looked at him, measured him—like he was a piece of trash—got in the way of honesty. “But I need to know.”

“Fine.” She threw the word at him like one of her softball pitches, fast and straight. Her jaw muscles pulsated. “Yes, I was most likely at the Clairemonts’. I was studying. Brad and I both needed to get our chemistry grades up to get into vet school.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and paced a few more steps. “When you left, Mr. Krauss forced me to find another lab partner. When I said I didn’t want one, he assigned Brad.” Her eyes went from slightly suspicious to intensely dark. “I was determined to do the things we talked about. Get a scholarship to Colorado State. Finish vet school. Start my own clinic.” Tears sprang from nowhere, and she closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Crap. I never thought. He locked his knees to remain standing. The acid in his stomach surged into his throat. An ache sliced across his chest. “Kenny told me you didn’t get accepted, but I never knew why. Karly, I’m so—”

“Don’t.” She waved him off. “Whatever you were about to say…don’t. After you left, the bullying at school got worse. Some of the kids said I was the reason you left—that you couldn’t stand to be with me anymore. I couldn’t concentrate, and my grades tanked. I didn’t have anyone to talk to.” She picked at a scab on her elbow, then let her hands fall to her sides. “It doesn’t matter. I have my shelter. This place is what I care about now.”

“Karly…”

She raised her hands to ward him off, then pulled inward.

God, I’m such a jerk. He rubbed his temples, then stopped, letting the recrimination intensify into a headache. “I feel stupid for trusting my sister.”

Once again, he’d managed to prove his dad right. He was worthless.

“Why didn’t you fight for us?” she asked with a rawness that just about carved him in half.

“I did…actually.” He cracked his knuckles one at a time, trying to buy some time, but the effort was futile. “My dad found out we slept together, so he decided to teach me a lesson. I figured if I just left—”

“You figured if you left, everyone would be perfectly fine, is that it?”

“No, that’s not it.” The self-loathing dug a little deeper. “My mom was always crying. My sister was hiding in her room. I had to do something. My dad never wanted me, and I figured—”

“You figured you had to fix things. You. Only you. No one else.”

Strike one.

The hurt and judgment and condemnation he’d take, because, multiply those feelings by any number, and it wouldn’t come close to how totally worthless he felt.

“You left me behind to deal with everything alone.”

Strike two.

“Then”—her eyes bulged wider—“when you thought I’d slept with Brad Clairemont, you dumped me. Does that sum it up?”

Strike three. He suppressed the urge to tuck her into his arms, beg her to forgive him.

“Well?” she demanded.

He needed to come up with a response, any response. She deserved something. “We were going in different directions. You were leaving for college. What was I supposed to do? Your parents would have never allowed us to live together, and getting a job in Ft. Collins is almost impossible.”

“A job. That’s your excuse?” Her voice vibrated. “Or was it something else, like jealousy? I bet you figured once I got to college and was surrounded by all those college boys, I’d leave you behind, so you found a way to leave me first.”

Strike four. It just keeps getting better.

“I needed you.” Her chin quivered.

Strike five, the knockout punch.

“That’s not true.” He added a bit of tenderness to the statement, but she shot him a look that made his man parts shrivel. “You’ve always been very good at figuring things out.”

“Forever. That’s what you promised me.”

The explosive IED blast that had ripped him apart was nothing compared to her bald statement. “I suppose you hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never been good at holding hate. You of all people know that.”

“That’s true. You could pop off like a champagne bottle cork, but in seconds the bubbles settled, while everyone else around you was still fizzing. I always admired that about you. I could stay mad for days.”

“More like weeks.”

Custer pulled against his lead in an effort to get to Karly. Thad moved to place a hand on Custer’s head. “Shhhh. She’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” At least I hope so. I have to fix this.

He scratched the dog’s neck, while Karly’s facial muscles tightened to hold on to her frown.

She held out her hand for Custer to lick. “Hanging on to anger eats at the soul. I was angry all the time after you left. At my dad and brothers for leaving me behind, and my mom for never listening.”

He reached to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. It was such a natural instinct. He’d done it a thousand times before. This time, she jerked her head away with a glare.

“I…ah… I decided not to live angry anymore,” she finished.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am truly sorry.” Sorry for the hurt. The lost time. “I screwed up.”

“That was ten years ago. I’ve moved on.”

She wouldn’t look at him, and her words sounded flat, passionless. She hadn’t moved on. He could see what happened had crawled underneath her skin like a tick on a dog, and sucked her dry.

Today wasn’t the day to ask for the details about her dad, brothers, any of it. He wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, he shouldn’t have left in the first place. Not for the reasons he did.

He flapped Custer’s ear, giving it a good rub. “I’ll train your mutt. It’s the least I can do.”

“My mutt?” She shook her head, her forehead creasing to support her scoff. “No, Thad. Training Custer—that needs to be for you. You don’t owe me any favors.”

“You said you needed the money.”

“There is that.” With the light of determination in her eyes, she pressed her shoulders back. “I’m not getting the donations or fees I need to keep this place open. I’m running low on food. Heck, I’m running low on everything—cleaning supplies, paper towels… But I don’t mean to burden you with my problems. I’ll figure something out.”

The set of her jaw and the decisiveness in her expression transformed her into the woman he remembered.

She’d always been an interesting mix of determination and insecurities, fearlessness and doubt, but he liked the new Karly even better. He hadn’t been a part of watching her grow, like the pine he planted as a boy in his grandfather’s garden. He’d always have that regret.

“I don’t know much about running a business, but I can come up with some ideas. We could go for a coffee. Maybe you’d let me buy you a caramel latte as a way of saying I’m sorry.”

A puff of wind lifted a tendril of hair that had fallen out of her cap. “You remembered. Lattes are still my favorite, but I don’t think so. You’ve already apologized, and I’ve moved on. You should too. This town has grown since you’ve been gone, and has a lot more to offer.”

“Like women, I suppose you mean.” Custer looked up at him with those pathetic, sad eyes and mirrored how he was feeling. “It won’t make a difference. Dating is not an option. I need time to figure out my next move.” He unknotted Custer’s leash. “You’ve got a good business going here, Karly. You should be proud. And, for what it’s worth, I am sorry about the misunderstanding.” And for leaving. And for not being here for you.

“Would you stop beating yourself up? The military should have helped you increase your self-confidence once you got away from your dad.” A slight reddish tinge brushed the curve of her cheek. He’d always loved and counted on her honesty.

She could see his vulnerabilities—his flaws—and she never cared. The only person in his life who’d loved him as is. He hurt her—badly—and for what?

What kind of man hurt the ones he loved?

“I’ll come by later this week to help you feed and wash some dogs.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ve already got volunteers scheduled. Plus, I’m sure you have better things to do. Besides, I wouldn’t want you thinking there’s something between us…’cause there’s not. Training Custer is important to that little girl. She should be your priority.”

He gave Custer the command to sit, and he waited for the dog to comply before turning back to look at her. “Do you remember that corn maze we visited in tenth grade? I got lost, and you had to come help me find my way out?”

“It was a hot day.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the left. “By the time I found you, the sun had almost set, and we were the last ones out. Why?”

The day had been spectacular. She’d looked amazing in her jeans shorts. He could almost smell the coconut of her sunscreen, the scent of cornhusks drying in the sun. Somehow, he’d taken a left, and she a right. He’d called her name, again, and again, and again, but he couldn’t find her. He ran, searching around each corner, taking a right and left and right again until he was out of breath.

The panic of that day welled in his throat. Concern visited her face for a second before she wiped it way.

“Why, you ask?” He forced a smile because it was the right thing to do. “Because for the past several years I’ve been in that maze, working to find my way out. Right now I need to work through a couple of things. Feeding and washing a few dogs…it’s what I need. I’ll see you Saturday, Karly.”

He gently pulled Custer’s lead to get the dog’s attention, and at his silent signal, the dog fell into step beside him.

He didn’t turn back, although he wanted to. He didn’t want to need anyone—love anyone—never again.

Besides, who would want to love the son of Raymond Lopez, a man who had enough DUIs to get locked up for eight months? No one in this town loved Raymond, and neither did he.

Too bad he couldn't find a big enough lock to hold the blasted memory box shut. Childhood, adolescence, adulthood...there wasn’t anything good worth reminiscing about, except for the one bright light—Karly.

While his steps were uneven and unbalanced, regret was a steady roar through his veins. Sorrow with a ton of self-loathing piled on. He’d been such a fool.

Days like this made him want to go back. Go back to bombs and bullets and casualties.

Back to war.

He’d been expendable then, and felt even more worthless now.