The antics of the three dogs tethered together made Karly laugh. The large-breed dogs had grown restless in their pens and needed to spend some of that pent-up energy. Otherwise, she’d have several four-legged delinquents on her hands.

“Ready to go?” Karly walked along the dirt parking lot towards the trailhead. “Burt, you take the lead. That’s it. Good dog. Maybe if I can get you guys settled a bit, I can find you good homes. I could use the adoption fee money.”

The shepherd mix pulled and took off running at a much faster pace than Karly wanted to set. She pulled gently on the lead while the team ran up the hill, and she settled into her long stride.

The first quarter of a mile on the narrow animal trail had only a slight incline, which then steadily increased as they raced past the wild grasses edging each side, along with clumps of aspen and evergreens adding shade. Her lungs hungered for oxygen, but she kept pushing. Farther up the trail, her favorite spot waited. Large boulders had tumbled down from the shelf above and settled, leaving the human trespassers to wend their way around the massive barriers. Yellow, red, and white flowers interspersed among the trees and grasses added color.

When they were almost to the giant metamorphic rock shaped like an Egyptian sphinx, Thad and Custer suddenly appeared around a cluster of trees leading from the western ridge trailhead, making her pull back on the leads.

She tugged off her earphones. “Holy crap. I didn’t see you coming. Where did you come from?” She didn’t want to feel the quick leap of her pulse as he moved closer, or the little flutter in her belly.

“Just the other side of the ridge. I saw you from above and thought I’d say hi.”

He moved like he had all the time in the world, and she stood there waiting, like she always had. Waiting for him to meet her after class, eat lunch, or reach for her hand. She just couldn’t help feeling that tingling sensation whenever he appeared. His black running pants molded nicely around quadriceps and calf muscles. The offsetting neon yellow parachute jacket finished the image, and tugged on that old thread of desire. She closed her eyes to force the image to disappear, before opening them to focus on the dogs.

“I’m impressed.” He moved a little closer. “Working three dogs at once takes skill. Mind if I join you? Custer could use some exercise.”

“If you want.” She pointed to the narrow trail ahead. “Why don’t you go first, and I’ll follow? It will be easier with the dogs.”

“You just want me to take the lead so you can look at my butt.”

“That’s not true.” I just wish you weren’t so damn good-looking. It makes ignoring you really, really hard.

That all-knowing grin, the one that bloomed like a flower opening, reaching for the sun, soaking up the rays, expanded on his face. The jerk.

“My muscles are tightening up,” she said. “If we’re going to go, we should get moving.”

“Yep, I can certainly tell you’re getting cold.”

He turned and took off down the trail. She studied the front of her sports shirt. Sure enough, there were her nipples, hard and erect, giving him a salute. She sighed, adjusted the backpack carrying water bottles and dog supplies, and set off down the hill at a good pace to make him pay for that comment.

Only five feet behind him, Karly and the dogs pushed him faster and faster until she spotted the abnormal pattern. He favored his left side. A half-mile farther and she could tell the pain had significantly increased, but he was still doing his best to stay ahead. He wouldn’t slow down or stop. He wouldn’t show weakness. She was about to call off the familiar rivalry when a rifle crack split the air on the ridge above their location.

Crap.

She fought for control of the dogs.

Thad dropped to the ground, but maintained his grip on Custer’s leash.

He rolled behind a tree and searched the hilltop.

Seconds later, a trio of deer burst through the undergrowth, crossed the path, and raced down the other side. Thad pushed to a stand just as the excited dogs got the idea to chase some deer and wrenched Karly off balance. She lost her grip on the nylon leads. Her backpack shifted. The trail’s edge disintegrated.

She fought to stay upright, but the gravel on the hill’s step edge slipped away and she lost her balance.

The sky.

The earth.

The sky appeared in a tumbling vision.

The air whooshed out of her lungs.

She grabbed for a tree branch, but missed and slid another couple of feet.

Suddenly, she came to a thudding stop next to a fallen tree.

Holy crap, that hurts.

The dirt-filled scrapes and torn skin along her forearms stung. She tried lifting her leg, but every muscle screamed in pain.

“Karly?”

A rush of snapping branches and rocks tumbling, spewing debris in her face, made her thrust an arm over her head. “I’m okay. I think I just twisted my ankle.”

“Don’t move.” Thad’s concern came through loud and clear. He slid around the large pine beside her, then came back up the incline to peer over the fallen log.

Stubbornness made her push to a seated position and begin brushing the dirt and pine needles off to see if anything was broken. Her leggings were ripped in several places. She rolled her left ankle. Sore, not broken.

“Just some cuts and scratches,” she said, to convince herself and calm the fear amplifying the adrenaline screaming through her.

“It looks like just a nasty gash.” He eased back the ripped Spandex fabric on her shin to look at the bloody scrape, then pulled off his pack.

She couldn’t help but notice how his hands shook, which divided her concerns. But as soon as he touched her, color returned to his face. His shaking calmed. His hands became steady.

“This will sting.” He ripped open a sterilizing packet from an olive-green emergency kit.

Her muscles clenched in response to the alcohol-based antibacterial gel. “You weren’t kidding.”

Within a few minutes, he had the gash on her shin wrapped enough to stop the bleeding.

“Oh, no.” She tried to see around the tall evergreens. “Where are the dogs? I don’t hear them.”

“They’re not far. When you fell, the dogs took off and got their leashes tangled on a tree. I tied Custer to your group. They’re together, just below the top of the hill.”

“Good thinking.” A stream of air let go and drained from her chest. “I’m not sure I’d be able to find them if they took off.”

“Do you think you can walk?” He scanned every inch of her body, looking for an injury. “We need to get you safely up this hill.”

You still care. I can see it. Yet the caring is different. Less demanding. More supportive. Mature. She bent her knee. The sting of torn skin zipped up her leg, but it was just a sting, not a pain. “I can walk. I just can’t run.”

“Let’s get you back up to the trail first. If you can put weight on that leg, we take the next turnoff. It cuts through to the parking lot. It's a lot steeper, but it will save you a few miles.”

She didn’t want to trust Thad. Her heart couldn’t survive his abandonment again. But fate left her no choice. Not today, anyway.

Thad stored the kit and handed her one of his water bottles and a pain reliever.

“Thanks.” She accepted his offering, even if reluctantly.

“We need to get you up that hill. Why don’t you get on my back?”

“Your back?” Not on that injured leg. “I’m not some sissy you need to hump out of here. I was clumsy enough to tumble down here. I’ll figure out a way to get back up.”

“God, woman. I’ve carried equipment heavier than you on my back.”

“I can do this.” I can’t let you that close to my heart. She used the fallen log to push into a standing position. Just one step. That's all you need to do, just take one step, then one step more.

She gritted her teeth against the pain and focused on the breeze brushing across her skin, the green, spongy moss, the birds calling overhead, anything to keep her mind off her leg.

His reassuring presence, his silent support, and helping hand, helped her make it back to level ground. But thank goodness she didn’t end up needing to wrap herself around all the hunkiness, or she just might have stayed there forever.

“Hold up here, and I’ll get the dogs.” He disappeared around a bend in the trail and then reappeared moments later with four dogs leading the way. Karly’s relief came streaming out in one long breath.

Thad scanned the hill above them again, clearly worrying about the gunshot.

“It was just a hunter,” she said.

The look on his face clearly stated he didn’t buy into her theory.

“Let’s get you off this ridge. I’ve got your backpack. You go first this time.” He guided the pack of dogs off the trail to allow her to pass. “Bill Mason told me Ashley Bryant got married.”

A glance over her shoulder told her what she expected. Never one to be a talker, Thad was trying to keep her mind occupied.

“Yes. Mara’s married as well. She married Joe Gaccione.”

“We played soccer together, but I never really got to know him.”

She slid down the steep trail through a set of trees. “Tony Dijocomo finally married Gina.”

“Tony and Gina. Wow. They used to fight like crazy. I remember a time Gina smacked Tony upside the head with a book.”

“He deserved it for acting like he owned the place. He settled quite a bit after his parents died.” She paused at a fallen tree to decide the best way around. “Kym took off with some Hollywood guy.”

“That’s no surprise.”

“If it weren’t for Mara, I think she would have been the first to take off. Mara shared a postcard Kym sent from Europe. Based on the pictures on her Facebook page, I think she’s very happy.” Karly lifted her leg to climb over the wide log.

“Good for her.” Thad winced as he cleared the next fallen tree. He was definitely in pain.

“Thad, would you please tell me about the scars on your hand and why you’re limping? I asked Kenny, but he said to ask you, and I’d like to know.”

He studied the back of his hand. “It’s nothing.”

Nothing. “Hmmm. That’s sad.”

“What is?”

“We used to be able to talk about anything. Now there’s stuff you don’t want to talk about. It’s lame that a misunderstanding and time could turn something special into something ugly. I’d like to be friends, at least.” She stopped at the trail post. Thad moved next to her, holding his silence in a way that felt unbalanced. “Half a mile to go.” She braced her hand on the next log and prepared to climb over.

“It was a homemade bomb.” The whispered explanation came out so softly it drifted on the air. “It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s amazing what pebbles and sticks can do to skin and bone.”

She paused to sit on the log instead. “A bomb,” she repeated, not liking how the words stung her tongue. “Is that why you got out?”

“Among other things.”

Oh, Thad. Come on. You have to talk to someone. “Do the other things have something to do with how you reacted to that rifle shot, and why your hands shake?”

“You haven’t lost your knack for prying.”

Well, that hurts. We used to be so close you couldn’t squeeze a dime between us. Not anymore, I guess.

“However, you’ve lost yours for being honest,” she snarked before the guilt from his piss-off reaction pressed in. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been lying too. I’m still bitter about what happened. When you left, I had no one I could talk to. No one who understood me like you did.”

She leaned down to place her hands on two rocks to slide her aching legs over the log and through the narrow gap. The dogs went up, over, and around, followed by Thad, who followed her lead.

“I said I was sorry.”

Reflecting on his comment, she let the wind swirl around her and pushed blowing hair out of her face. “But not sorry enough to talk to me? You need to talk to someone. Why not me?”

His eyes grew distant, and the muscles in his jaw got a good workout.

“You don’t need to confide in me if you don’t want. It’s none of my business.” She braced herself against the nearest rock and waited for him to catch up.

He wanted to say something, she could tell he did, but suddenly looked away. “Talking about what happened over there doesn’t come easy.”

“The hard stuff is never easy.” She gave him a smile and hoped the sentiment helped. “What do you find harder to talk about, the bomb specifically, or Afghanistan in general?”

“All of it. Being deployed, then being stateside. The difference.”

“You’re right. Seeing pictures isn’t the same, and maybe I shouldn’t push, but I’d like to think I’m still a good listener, even if I don’t understand. Perhaps, after all we shared, we could at least try to be friends. I wouldn’t want to waste the time we spent together growing up. No matter what happened over there, I know you’re still a good man.”

When his amber eyes met hers, he seemed to be more at peace. “Friendship, huh? I think I’d like that.”

“Well, don’t think about it too long, there, buddy.” She gave him a nudge and a semi-laugh. “I just might change my mind.”

“My mom tells me that’s a woman’s prerogative.”

“After your dad died…” She unzipped her jacket to let the cool air ease her churning thoughts, and to give herself time for the words to formulate. “I got to know your mom better before she moved. She’d just finished with detox, and wanted to volunteer a couple of times a month at the shelter. Therapy, she called it. She didn’t need to help at my place, but she did. She’s a nice lady, and I’m thankful I got to know her. Did you visit her in Texas? I hear she has a new boyfriend.”

“I did, and I met Paul.” His face looked like he’d just bit into a lemon and he couldn’t swallow. “He treats Ma good.” He rubbed at his hand. “I think when she looks at me she still sees the bad stuff that happened. It bothers her that my dad and I look alike. I moved here to give her space.”

Thad held the dogs back, while Karly navigated through another narrow passage.

“My sister met some Army guy and plans to get married next year,” he said. “This is her second engagement. I don’t think I’ll hold my breath.”

“You care about your Sarah. I know you do.”

“Maybe she won’t be as angry anymore. I hope she’s found happiness. Mom says she’s in love.”

Love. The sentiment felt foreign, distant, like an apple on a top branch, out of reach.

Limping forward, she contemplated the boy she’d once known as well as the lines on her hand. “I’ve meant to ask. Why did you move into your grandpa’s hunting cabin? It’s barely livable. There are a few places in town you could rent.” Her shoulders eased when the dogs grew restless, sensing the end of the trail.

“I’ve lived in worse. It gets cold, but it’s rent-free.”

“Free is always good.”

The cloud of dust kicked up from Thad’s feet was fitting, since he kicked up a lot of other things as well. She refused to feel sorry for him, but it didn’t mean she didn’t feel something.

“You’re biting your lip.” He squinted into the sun. “What’s on your mind?”

Yeah, I gotta stop doing that. I’ve got my feelings stamped on my forehead where you’re concerned. “My mom called this morning. A friend of hers is starting to sell a line of jewelry. She thinks I should give it a try.”

Thad shook his head. “Some things never change. Follow your heart, Karly. You’ve got a good business. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

There it was. His belief that she could do anything she put her mind to. She’d missed having someone in her life who believed in her, and in her dreams.

“Where’s your truck?” She scanned the empty parking lot.

“At the cabin.”

“You ran from there?”

“It’s only six miles or so.” He tipped his head back to study the sky. “I’ll make it home before it rains.”

“Come on. Let me give you a ride.”

Thad stepped back and shook his head, then removed Custer’s lead. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe some other time. You should get those scrapes cleaned right away.” An odd expression flickered across his face. “Put some ice on that leg, Karly.”

He released a quick whistle, then limped back up the trail. Custer ran ahead, circling back every few hundred yards to check on Thad’s progress.

Why did it feel, every time they parted lately, like he was leaving her again?

She’d gotten used to being lonely, and doing everything she could to rise above the crap life shoveled out.

She didn’t want to have to worry about him leaving her again, the way her dad and brothers had.

Why couldn’t Thad have just stayed away?