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Authors: Rachel Lee
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unawares again.
No, she wasn’t allowing herself to become entirely lost in thought, not now, not anymore. She heard every little sound, and her eyes moved restlessly, checking out every movement. Like in Iraq.
Not good. She couldn’t live in this state again, not if it wasn’t necessary. But maybe it was.
Craig certainly seemed to have some concerns about Buddy now, and after the way the guy had shouted at her and called her a spy, she shared them. Even if he was only slightly unhinged, it was best to take care.
But she wasn’t going to cede ground, and she wasn’t going to turn tail, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to walk away while Craig dealt with this.
Again, rationally, that seemed like an extreme reaction. It was his job, after all, not hers. She was supposed to be on vacation. Yet she saw how alone he was out here most of the time, and she wasn’t going to bow out. While he could probably get reinforcements if he needed them, the fact was he didn’t have them right now.
So she was going to sit here, being an extra pair of eyes for him, keeping watch on things across the valley.
Probably exaggerating her own importance, she thought wryly, but old training just wouldn’t lay down and die. Hadn’t she just faced it again yesterday?
Call it sentry duty, she thought. Early warning system. Beside her on the tarp lay the radio, itself like a sudden arrival from a past she’d tried to completely leave behind.
Though women weren’t supposed to be combatants, war had changed enough that it was unavoidable. Riding as part of a supply convoy, being shelled by RPGs at a base...women in uniform were as much a part of that as any man. Hell, they’d even given her a weapon to carry, and taught her how to use it. She’d been in a couple of firefights, certainly not as many as a scout patrol, but she’d been caught up in them anyway, in narrow streets with boarded windows and locked doors. She hadn’t been safe from improvised bombs on the roads, either. She’d been in two convoys that had been hit, and she’d lost more than one friend.
So she had some scars. One of them had evidently been opened yesterday. Maybe the unexpected encounter with Buddy had softened her up in some way, lowered her guard against her own memories. Add to that talking to some of the vets at that meeting, which had dragged up a few memories, and then looking at those doors and nearly blank windows along the street had finished the job.
That was probably it. She’d just better keep her guard up for a while. While it was just an unfortunate confluence, not likely to reoccur, she sure didn’t want to go away inside herself again. She needed to be able to trust that she wouldn’t do that. Absolutely needed to.
Yeah, she had something to prove all right. To herself.
She picked up her camera, pulled the lens cap off and used the telephoto lens to sweep the valley and Buddy Jackson’s place across the way. It was an act of defiance she needed to make. Spying? She’d show him.
Unfortunately she didn’t see a damn thing. Not even anybody walking around Buddy’s property. Some spy. Almost laughing at herself, she trained her camera farther up the valley. She kept hoping she might spot a wolf, although she had been assured she probably wouldn’t even know they were around unless they howled. Still, she hoped.
But her small act of defiance lifted her spirits. She capped her camera and set up her easel with the canvas she had daubed paint on a few days ago. Her spirits lifted even more as she looked at the colors she had chosen. Amazing, but when she looked out over the valley she saw those colors had changed in just a couple of days, some growing brighter, some darker.
She was ready to paint again.
* * *
Craig was working his way slowly along Buddy’s side of the mountain, checking streams that ran down narrow gorges to the valley below, all the while trying to get closer to Buddy’s property. He wanted to see if those trip
No, she wasn’t allowing herself to become entirely lost in thought, not now, not anymore. She heard every little sound, and her eyes moved restlessly, checking out every movement. Like in Iraq.
Not good. She couldn’t live in this state again, not if it wasn’t necessary. But maybe it was.
Craig certainly seemed to have some concerns about Buddy now, and after the way the guy had shouted at her and called her a spy, she shared them. Even if he was only slightly unhinged, it was best to take care.
But she wasn’t going to cede ground, and she wasn’t going to turn tail, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to walk away while Craig dealt with this.
Again, rationally, that seemed like an extreme reaction. It was his job, after all, not hers. She was supposed to be on vacation. Yet she saw how alone he was out here most of the time, and she wasn’t going to bow out. While he could probably get reinforcements if he needed them, the fact was he didn’t have them right now.
So she was going to sit here, being an extra pair of eyes for him, keeping watch on things across the valley.
Probably exaggerating her own importance, she thought wryly, but old training just wouldn’t lay down and die. Hadn’t she just faced it again yesterday?
Call it sentry duty, she thought. Early warning system. Beside her on the tarp lay the radio, itself like a sudden arrival from a past she’d tried to completely leave behind.
Though women weren’t supposed to be combatants, war had changed enough that it was unavoidable. Riding as part of a supply convoy, being shelled by RPGs at a base...women in uniform were as much a part of that as any man. Hell, they’d even given her a weapon to carry, and taught her how to use it. She’d been in a couple of firefights, certainly not as many as a scout patrol, but she’d been caught up in them anyway, in narrow streets with boarded windows and locked doors. She hadn’t been safe from improvised bombs on the roads, either. She’d been in two convoys that had been hit, and she’d lost more than one friend.
So she had some scars. One of them had evidently been opened yesterday. Maybe the unexpected encounter with Buddy had softened her up in some way, lowered her guard against her own memories. Add to that talking to some of the vets at that meeting, which had dragged up a few memories, and then looking at those doors and nearly blank windows along the street had finished the job.
That was probably it. She’d just better keep her guard up for a while. While it was just an unfortunate confluence, not likely to reoccur, she sure didn’t want to go away inside herself again. She needed to be able to trust that she wouldn’t do that. Absolutely needed to.
Yeah, she had something to prove all right. To herself.
She picked up her camera, pulled the lens cap off and used the telephoto lens to sweep the valley and Buddy Jackson’s place across the way. It was an act of defiance she needed to make. Spying? She’d show him.
Unfortunately she didn’t see a damn thing. Not even anybody walking around Buddy’s property. Some spy. Almost laughing at herself, she trained her camera farther up the valley. She kept hoping she might spot a wolf, although she had been assured she probably wouldn’t even know they were around unless they howled. Still, she hoped.
But her small act of defiance lifted her spirits. She capped her camera and set up her easel with the canvas she had daubed paint on a few days ago. Her spirits lifted even more as she looked at the colors she had chosen. Amazing, but when she looked out over the valley she saw those colors had changed in just a couple of days, some growing brighter, some darker.
She was ready to paint again.
* * *
Craig was working his way slowly along Buddy’s side of the mountain, checking streams that ran down narrow gorges to the valley below, all the while trying to get closer to Buddy’s property. He wanted to see if those trip
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