Free Once Touched by Laura Moore

which there were none—that separated Quinn and Ethan.
    “Hey there,” he said with a dip of his cowboy hat.
    “Hey,” Ethan replied.
    The word still hung in the air as Quinn scrambled off the bench. She strode over to where Josh stood by the pen and plucked the coffee mug from his hands, speaking in a rush. “Not necessary to bring me coffee, but since you did, it’d be criminal to let it go to waste.” She took a few quick gulps while he and Josh continued to eye each other, and then said, “Ethan, this is Josh Yates, one of our new ranch hands. Josh, this is Ethan—”
    “You’re the photographer the guys are talking about. I have some buddies in Afghanistan. Marines. Camp Leatherneck. You been there?”
    Guessing what was coming, Ethan tensed. “No. I was embedded with a unit in Kandahar, to the east. Camp Nathan Smith.”
    “Right. Is it as effed-up over there as they say?”
    “Yeah. Pretty much.”
    “I thought so. I considered enlisting.” He gave a shrug.
    Ethan couldn’t blame him for his decision. It wasn’t as if he’d signed up to fight, either. And it wasn’t Josh’s fault that so many others had died. That’s where Ethan knew he and Josh differed.
    “Bet you saw some bad shit, huh?”
    Christ, did people really expect an answer to that question? What did they want, a list detailing the horror, the blood, the carnage, the total mind-fucking wrongness of some of the things he’d witnessed? Experienced?
    Apparently unfazed by his silence, Josh asked, “Who were you photographing?”
    “Army grunts. Just your average Joes.” A number of them younger than Josh.
    “Oh, yeah, sure. So, did they finish their tour of duty and return home for some well-deserved R&R?”
    What he wouldn’t give to make that so, rather than have to live with the fact that Archie Donovan, Aaron Smith, and Casey Logar had died mere feet from him. If they hadn’t had the bad luck to be assigned to escort him into Kandahar, they might be alive. Instead they died for a fucking photo shoot.
    They weren’t the only casualties that haunted him. From deep inside a familiar pain clawed at him. But then Quinn spoke. Though he couldn’t make sense of what she was saying, he clung to the sound of her voice. Gradually the pain loosened its hold.
    “…I have some needy goats to milk and a pen to clean before I lead the morning trail ride.”
    Goats. Milk. Pen.
The words brought him back from that dusty road in the hell that was Afghanistan. He blinked, weak with relief. If she’d been anyone else but the disarmingly beautiful Quinn Knowles, daughter of his parents’ close friends, he might have kissed her out of gratitude.
    Luckily she didn’t seem to have noticed anything off about him as he relived the harrowing pain or his slack-jawed relief at being freed from those memories. Her attention was on Josh.
    No big surprise that the wrangler was equally focused on her. A woman like Quinn would have men lined up from here to South America hoping to date her.
    “Oh, yeah. About that trail ride,” Josh said. “I’m your backup.”
    A frown of confusion crossed Quinn’s face. “I thought Pete assigned Jim—”
    “Nope. Jim’s off to the dentist with a real bad toothache. I volunteered to take his place. Have to admit, I’ll be jealous of you on Domino. Any chance you want to swap and ride Waylon?”
    “Thanks, but no. Domino’s feelings would be hurt.”
    “Had to give it a shot.” Turning to him, Josh said, “You seen her Appaloosa? A real beaut. Rides like the wind. And how about these goats? She takes real good care of them. Talks to ’em, too.” He chuckled.
    Ethan got the message loud and clear. Josh brought Quinn coffee. He’d ridden her horse. He’d witnessed Quinn in a conversation with her beloved goats. Next on the cowboy’s to-do list: get Quinn somewhere private.
    “Nothing wrong with talking to goats. They’re more interesting than many humans I’ve encountered,” he answered with a cool