Buch lesen: «The Soldier's Redemption»

Chapter One

Finn Gallagher leaned his cane against the desk and swiveled his chair around to face the open window. He loved solitude, but with overseeing Redemption Ranch’s kennels, dealing with suppliers and workers and the public, he didn’t get enough of it. These early-morning moments when he could sip coffee and look out across the flat plain toward the Sangre de Cristo Mountains were precious and few.

He was reaching over to turn on the window fan—June in Colorado could be hot—when he heard a knock behind him. “Pardon me,” said a quiet female voice. “I’ve come about the job.”

So much for solitude.

He swiveled around and got the impression of a small brown sparrow. Plain, with no identifying markers. Brown tied-back hair, gray flannel shirt, jeans, no-brand sneakers.

Well, she was plain until you noticed those high cheekbones and striking blue eyes.

“How’d you find us?” he asked.

“Ad in the paper.” She said it Southern style: “Aaa-yud.” Not from around here. “Kennel assistant, general cleaning.”

“Come on in. Sit down,” he said and gestured to a chair, not because he wanted her there but because he felt rude sitting while she was standing. And his days of getting to his feet the moment a lady walked into the room were over. “I’m Finn Gallagher. I run the day-to-day operations here at the ranch.”

“Kayla White.” She sat down like a sparrow, too, perching. Ready for flight.

“Actually,” he said, “for this position, we were looking for a man.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “That’s discriminatory. I can do the work. I’m stronger than I look.”

He studied her a little closer and noticed that she wore long sleeves, buttoned down. In this heat? Weird. She looked healthy, not like a druggie hiding track marks, but lately more and more people seemed to be turning in that desperate direction.

“It’s pretty remote here.” He’d rather she removed herself from consideration for the job so he wouldn’t have to openly turn her down. She was right about the discrimination thing. With all their financial troubles, the last thing Redemption Ranch needed was a lawsuit. “A good ten miles to the nearest town, over bad roads.”

She nodded patiently. And didn’t ask to be withdrawn from consideration.

“The position requires you to live in. Not much chance to meet people and socialize.” He glanced at her bare left hand.

“I’m not big on socializing. More of a bookworm, actually.”

That almost made him like her. He spent most of his evenings at home with a dog and a good book, himself. “Small cabin,” he warned.

“I’ll fit.” She gestured at her petite self as the hint of a smile crossed her face and was just as quickly gone. “I’m relocating,” she clarified, “so living in would be easier than finding a job and a place to stay, both.”

So she wasn’t going to give up. Which was fine, really; there was no reason the new hire had to be male. He just had a vision of a woman needing a lot of attention and guidance, gossiping up a blue streak, causing trouble with the veterans.

Both his mother and his boss would have scolded him for that type of prejudice.

Anyway, Kayla seemed independent and not much of a talker. The more Finn looked at her, though, the more he thought she might cause a little interest, at least, among the guys.

And if she were using... “There’s a drug test,” he said abruptly and watched her reaction.

“Not a problem.” Her response was instant and unambiguous.

Okay, then. Maybe she was a possibility.

They talked through the duties of the job—feeding and walking the dogs, some housekeeping in the offices, but mostly cleaning kennels. She had experience cleaning, references. She liked dogs. She’d done cooking, too, which wasn’t a need they had now, but they might in the future.

Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk her into the job or talk her out of it. Something about her, some hint of self-sufficiency, made him like her, at least as much as he liked any woman. And they did need to hire someone soon. But he got the feeling there was a lot she wasn’t saying.

Would it be okay to have a woman around? He tested the notion on himself. He didn’t date, didn’t deserve to after what he’d done. That meant he spent almost no time around women his age. A nice, quiet woman might be a welcome change.

Or she might be a big complication he didn’t need.

“What’s the living situation?” she asked. “You said a cabin. Where’s it located?”

He gestured west. “There’s a row of seven cabins. Small, like I said. And a little run-down. Seeing as you’re female, we’d put you on the end of the row—that’s what we did with the one female vet who stayed here—but eventually they’ll fill up, mostly with men. Veterans with issues.”

She blanched, visibly.

He waited. From the bird feeder outside his window, a chickadee scolded. The smell of mountain sage drifted in.

“What kind of issues?” Her voice came out a little husky.

“PTSD related, mostly. Some physical disabilities, too. Anything that would cause a vet to give up hope, is how the owner of the ranch puts it. We give residents a place to get their heads together, do some physical labor and help some four-legged critters who need it. The idea is to help them get back on their feet.”

She looked away, out the window, chewing on her lower lip.

He took pity. “We don’t allow any firearms. No drugs or alcohol. And we have a couple of mental health specialists and a doctor on call. Planning on a chaplain, too.” Once we start bringing in enough money to hire one, he almost added, but didn’t. “If somebody’s problems seem too much for us to handle, we refer them elsewhere.”

“I see.” She looked thoughtful.

They should’ve put what kind of nonprofit it was in the ad, to screen out people who were scared of veterans. But the truth was, they’d limited the ad to the fewest words possible, economizing.

“I can show you around,” he said. “If you like what you see, we can talk more.”

He was pretty sure that conversation wouldn’t happen, judging by the way her attitude had changed once their focus on veterans had come up.

He hoisted himself to his feet, grabbed his cane and started toward the door.

She’d stood up to follow, but when she saw him full-length, she took a step back.

It shouldn’t surprise him. Even with the inch or so he’d lost from the spinal surgery, he was still six-four. And he’d been lifting to work off some steam. Pretty much The Incredible Hulk.

It had used to work in his favor with women, at least some of them, way back when that had mattered.

“You’re military?” she asked as he gestured for her to walk out ahead of him.

“Yep.” He waited for the fake thank you for your service.

She didn’t say it. “What branch?” she asked.

He was closing the door behind them. When he turned to answer, he saw that she’d moved ahead and was kneeling down in front of a little boy who sat on the floor of the outer office, his back against the wall, holding a small gaming device.

Finn sucked in a breath, restrained a surprised exclamation, tried to compose himself.

Kid looked to be about five. Freckle faced and towheaded.

Just like Derek.

His emotions churning, he watched her tap the boy’s chin to get his attention. Odd that such a small boy had been so quiet during the, what, half hour that they’d been talking. Derek could never have done it.

“My son, Leo,” she said, glancing up at Finn. And then, to the boy: “We’re going to walk around with Mr. Gallagher. We might have a place to stay for a bit, a tiny little house.”

The boy’s eyes lit up and he opened his mouth to speak. Then he looked over at Finn and snapped it shut. He scooted farther behind his mother.

Could the kid be afraid of his limp or his cane? Could Kayla? But if she couldn’t deal with that, or her kid couldn’t, then they needed to take themselves far away from Redemption Ranch. His problems were minor compared to some of the veterans who would soon be staying here.

And beyond that, what kind of risks would a young kid face in a place like this? The vets he wasn’t really worried about, but a little kid could be trouble around dogs—if he was too afraid of them, or not afraid enough.

No kids were going to be hurt on Finn’s watch. Never again.

“This way,” he said, his voice brusque. He’d show them around, because he had said he would. Unlike a lot of people, he didn’t retract his promises.

He touched her back to guide her out. As he felt the ridge of her spine through the shirt, she looked up at him, eyes wide and startled.

He withdrew his hand immediately, his face heating. He hadn’t meant his touch to be flirtatious, but apparently it had come off some weird way.

He could already tell this wasn’t going to work.

* * *

Kayla pulled Leo close beside her as she walked ahead of the square-shouldered soldier into the open air. Her mind raced at strategic pace.

She’d gotten a good feeling about the job when she’d seen it, reading the Esperanza Springs Mountaineer in the café where they’d had an early breakfast. Live in—check. They needed a place to live. A good thousand miles away from Arkansas, remote and off the beaten path—check. That was the big priority. Work she could handle—check. She liked dogs, and she liked working hands-on.

A wholesome, healthy, happy environment that would help Leo heal... Of that, she wasn’t yet sure.

As for her own healing from her terrible marriage, she wasn’t expecting that, and it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the type to elicit love from anyone, her son the exception. She knew that for sure, now.

The man striding beside her—and how did a guy stride with a cane, anyway?—looked a little too much like her bodybuilding, short-haired, military-postured ex. Finn had spooked her son to the point where, now, Leo pressed close into her side, making it hard to walk.

But it wasn’t like she was going to become best friends with this Finn Gallagher, if she did get this job and decide to take it. It wasn’t like she’d reveal anything to him, to anyone, that could somehow lead to Mitch finding them.

The mountains rose in a semicircle around the flat basin where the ranch was situated, white streaks of snow decorating the peaks even at the end of June. There was a weathered-looking barn up ahead of them, and off to the right, a pond with a dock and a rowboat.

This place drew her in. It was beautiful, and about as far from Little Rock as they could reasonably go, given the car she was driving. If she were just basing things on geography, she’d snap this job up in a minute.

But the military angle worried her.

“Would we live there?” Leo pointed. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but in it she detected a trace of excitement.

They were approaching a small log cabin with a couple of rustic chairs on a narrow porch. As Finn had mentioned, it was the end of a row of similar structures. Sunlight glinted off its green tin roof. One of the shutters hung crooked, but other than that, the place looked sturdy enough.

“This is the cabin you’d live in if this works out,” Finn said, glancing down at Leo and then at her. “The vet who lived here before just moved out, so it should be pretty clean. Come on in.”

Inside, the cabin’s main room had a kitchen area—sink and refrigerator and stove—along the far wall. A door to one side looked like it led to a bathroom or closet. A simple, rough-hewn dining table, a couch and a couple of chairs filled up the rest of the small room. With some throw rugs and homemade curtains, it would be downright cozy.

“Sleeping loft is upstairs,” Finn said, indicating a sturdy, oversize ladder.

Leo’s head whipped around to look at Kayla. He loved to climb as much as any little boy.

“Safe up there?” she asked Finn. “Anything that could hurt a kid?” She could already see that the sleeping area had a three-foot railing at the edge, which would prevent a fall.

“It’s childproof.” His voice was gruff.

“No guns, knives, nothing?” If Finn were like Mitch, he’d be fascinated by weapons. And he wouldn’t consider them a danger to a kid.

“Of course not!” Finn looked so shocked and indignant that she believed him.

“Go ahead—climb up and take a look,” she said to her son. Leo had been cooped up in the car during the past four days. She wanted to seize any possible opportunity for him to have fun.

She stood at the bottom of the ladder and watched him climb, quick and agile. She heard his happy exclamation, and then his footsteps tapped overhead as he ran from one side of the loft to the other.

Love for him gripped her hard. She’d find a way to make him a better life, whether here or somewhere else.

“I’m not sure this is the right environment for a child,” Finn said in a low voice. He was standing close enough that she could smell his aftershave, some old-fashioned scent her favorite stepfather had used. “We need someone who’ll work hard, and if you’re distracted by a kid, you can’t.”

“There’s a camp program at the church in Esperanza Springs. Thought we’d check that out.” Actually, she already had, online; they had daily activities, were open to five-year-olds and offered price breaks to low-income families.

Which they definitely were.

Finn didn’t say anything, and silent men made her nervous. “Leo,” she called, “come on down.”

Her son scrambled down the ladder and pressed into her leg, looking warily at Finn.

Curiosity flared in the big man’s eyes, but he didn’t ask questions. Instead, he walked over to the door and held it open. “I’ll show you the kennels.” His face softened as he looked down at Leo. “We have eighteen dogs right now.”

Leo didn’t speak, but he glanced up at Kayla and gave a little jump. She knew what it meant. Eighteen dogs would be a cornucopia of joy to him.

They headed along the road in front of the cabins. “Is he comfortable with dogs?” Finn asked.

“He hasn’t been around them much, but he’s liked the ones he’s met.” Loved, more like. A pet was one of the things she’d begged Mitch for, regularly. She’d wanted the companionship for Leo, because she’d determined soon after his birth that they’d never have another child. Fatherhood didn’t sit well with Mitch.

But Mitch hadn’t wanted a dog, and she’d known better than to go against him on that. She wouldn’t be the only one who’d suffer; the dog would, too, and Leo.

“We’re low on residents right now,” Finn said. He waved a hand toward a rustic, hotel-like structure half-hidden by the curve of a hill. “Couple of guys live in the old lodge. Help us do repairs, when they have time. But they both work days and aren’t around a whole lot.”

“You going to fill the place up?”

“Slowly, as we get the physical structures back up to code. These two cabins are unoccupied.” He gestured to the two that were next to the one he’d just shown them. The corner of one was caving in, and its porch looked unstable. She’d definitely have to set some limits on where Leo could play, in the event that this worked out. “This next one, guy named Parker lives there, but he’s away. His mom’s real sick. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

Across the morning air, the sound of banjo and guitar music wafted, surprising her. She looked down at Leo, whose head was cocked to one side.

They found the source of the music on the porch of the last cabin, and as they came close, the men playing the instruments stopped. “Who you got there?” came a raspy voice.

Finn half turned to her. “Come meet Willie and Long John. Willie lives in the cabin next door, but he spends most of his time with Long John. If you work here, you’ll see a lot of them.”

As they approached the steps, the two men got to their feet. They both looked to be in their later sixties. The tall, skinny, balding one who’d struggled getting up had to be Long John, which meant the short, heavyset one, with a full white beard, his salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail, must be Willie. Both wore black Vietnam veteran baseball caps.

Finn introduced them and explained why Kayla was here.

“Hope you’ll take the job,” Long John said. “We could use some help with the dogs.”

“And it’d improve the view around here,” Willie said, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth beneath the beard.

Finn cleared his throat and glared at the older man.

Willie just grinned and eased down onto the cabin’s steps. At eye level with Leo, he held out a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, young man,” he said.

“Shake hands,” Kayla urged, and Leo held out his right hand.

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, and Kayla felt a surge of pride at his manners.

After a grave handshake, Willie looked up at her. “Wouldn’t mind having a little guy around here. Always did like to take my grandkids fishing.” He waved an arm in the direction of the pond she’d seen. “We keep it stocked.”

Kayla’s heart melted, just at the edges. Grandfather figures for Leo? A chance for him to learn to fish?

There was a low woof from inside the screen door and a responding one from the porch. A large black dog she hadn’t seen before lumbered to its feet.

“About time you noticed there’s some new folks here,” Long John said, reaching from his chair to run a hand over the black dog’s bony spine. “Rockette, here, don’t pay a whole lot of attention to the world these days. Not unless her friend Duke wakes her up.”

Willie opened the screen door. A gray-muzzled pit bull sauntered out.

“Duke. Sit.” Willie made a hand gesture, and Duke obediently dropped to his haunches, his tongue lolling out. Willie slipped a treat from the pocket of his baggy jeans and fed it to the dog.

Leo took two steps closer to the old black dog, reached out and touched its side with the tips of his fingers.

“One of our agreements, for anyone who lives in the cabins, is that they take in a dog,” Finn explained. “Gives them a little extra attention. Especially the ones not likely to be adopted.”

Leo tugged Kayla’s hand. “Would we have a dog?”

“Maybe.” She put seriousness into her voice so he wouldn’t get his hopes up. “It all depends if Mr. Gallagher decides to offer me the job, and if I take it. Those are grown-up decisions.”

“Sure could use the help,” Long John said, lowering himself back into his chair with a stifled groan. “Me and Willie been doing our best, but...” He waved a hand at a walker folded against the porch railing. “With my Parkinson’s, it’s not that easy.”

“Hardly anyone else has applied,” Willie added. “Don’t get many out-of-towners around these parts. And the people who live in Esperanza Springs heard we’re gonna have more guys up here. They get skittish.” He winked at Kayla. “We vets are gentle as lambs, though, once you get to know us.”

“Right.” She had direct experience to the contrary.

At first, before her marriage had gone so far downhill, she hadn’t translated Mitch’s problems into a mistrust of all military personnel. Later, it had been impossible to avoid doing just that.

When Mitch had pushed his way into her place well after their divorce was final—talking crazy and roughing her up—she’d gone to the police.

She hadn’t wanted to file a complaint, which had been stupid. She’d just wanted to know her options, whether a protection order would do any good.

What she hadn’t known was that the police officer she’d spoken with was army, too. Hadn’t known he drank with Mitch at the Legion.

The cop had let Mitch know that she’d reported him, and she still bore the bruises from when he’d come back over to her place, enraged, looking for blood.

Shaking off her thoughts, she watched Long John talk with Finn while Willie plucked at his guitar and then held it out to show Leo. The two veterans did exude a gentle vibe. But then, their wartime experiences were distant, their aggressions most likely tamed through age and experience.

“Let’s take a look at the kennels,” Finn said and nodded toward the barn. “Later, guys.”

Just outside the barn, Finn turned and gestured for Leo to stand in front of him. After a nod from Kayla, Leo did, his eyes lowered, shoulders frozen in a slump.

“I want you to ask before you touch a dog, Leo,” he said. “Most of them are real nice, but a couple are nervous enough to lash out. So ask an adult first, and never, ever open a kennel without an adult there to help you. Understand?”

Leo nodded, taking a step closer to Kayla.

“Good.” Finn turned toward the barn door and beckoned for them to follow him.

Much barking greeted their entry into the dim barn. Finn flicked on a light, revealing kennels along both sides of the old structure and more halfway up the middle. One end of the barn was walled off into what looked like an office.

Finn walked down the row of dogs, telling her their names, reaching through some of the wire fencing to stroke noses. His fondness for the animals was obvious in his tone and his gentle touch. “All of them are seniors,” he explained over his shoulder. “Which is about seven and up for a big dog, eight or nine for a little one.”

“Where do they come from?” she asked. The barking had died down, and most of the dogs stood at the gates of their kennels, tails wagging, eyes begging for attention.

“Owner surrenders, mostly. Couple of strays.”

She knelt to look at a red-gold dog, probably an Irish setter mix. “Why would anyone give you up, sweetie?” She reached between the cage wires to touch the dog’s white muzzle, seeming to read sadness in its eyes.

“Lots of reasons,” Finn said. “People move. Or they don’t have money for food and vet bills. Sometimes, they just don’t want to deal with a dog that requires some extra care.” He knelt beside her. “Lola, here, she can’t make it up and down stairs. Her owner lived in a two-story house, so...”

“They couldn’t carry her up and down?”

“Apparently not.”

“Can I pet her, too, Mom?” Leo asked, forgetting to be quiet.

Kayla looked over at Finn. “Can he?”

“She’s harmless. Go ahead.”

As Leo stuck fingers into the cage of the tail-wagging Lola, Finn turned toward Kayla. “Most of our dogs are really gentle, just like I was telling Leo. The ones that are reactive have a red star on their cages.” He pointed to one on the cage of a medium-sized brown dog, some kind of Doberman mix. “Those, you both stay away from. If the job works out, we’ll talk about getting you some training for handling difficult dogs.”

If the job worked out. Would it work out? Did she want it to?

Finn had moved farther down the row of cages, and he made a small sound of concern and opened one, guiding a black cocker spaniel out and attaching a leash to her collar. He bent over the little dog, rubbing his hands up and down her sides. “It’s okay,” he murmured as the dog wagged her tail and leaned against him. “You’re okay.”