Free A Soldier's Journey by PATRICIA POTTER Page B

but she didn’t like being used.
    â€œNo. The town really does need a history. Al does have his supporters. The town is divided, and neither side trusts the other. That’s why I thought an outsider would be a good idea. After I met you, I sensed that you might get through to Al. I don’t know why.”
    It was an apology of sorts, and even an implied compliment. Her resentment faded away. “Has anyone seen the journals?” she asked.
    Eve shook her head. “His nephew bragged about having seen journals, but when I asked Al about them, he was very non-committal.”
    â€œMaybe there’s something in them that he doesn’t want someone to see,” Andy surmised.
    â€œAfter a hundred and fifty years?” Eve said.
    â€œOr,” Andy said, “maybe they don’t even exist.”
    â€œThat could be true, too,” Eve said, “but he’s never denied their existence. I think he’s just proud and stubborn.”
    Another voice broke in. “Are you ever going to bring Lieutenant Stuart out to meet the crew?”
    Andy turned. Josh Manning—it must be Josh Manning—filled the doorway into the kitchen. He was tall, solidly built with tawny hair and emerald green eyes.
    â€œHello,” he said to her. “Welcome to Covenant Falls. I’m Josh, and I’ve come to save you from my wife.”
    â€œHi. I understand you’re my landlord. Thank you.”
    â€œThank my buddy. He left the cabin to me. It’s what he would have wanted.” His green eyes clouded over for a split second, then cleared. “I hope you’re comfortable.”
    â€œIt’s very nice. I took a walk up your mountain yesterday.”
    â€œI did that on a regular basis. It usually cleared my head.” He peered down at Joseph. “Who is this?”
    â€œJoseph.”
    Her host leaned down. “He’s a handsome fellow. Okay to pet him?”
    â€œSure. He loves attention,” she said, suddenly at ease with Josh as he leaned down and rubbed Joseph’s ears.
    â€œCome and meet my particular savior,” he said. “Or one of them.” He led the way outside, where a dog resembling a German shepherd stood at the step. “This is Amos, a Belgian Malinois,” he said. “He was a military dog before he became my best buddy.”
    The two dogs, Amos and Joseph, looked at each other, sniffed each other thoroughly, then wagged their tails before retreating to their humans.
    Andy took several steps down to a large patio, and Josh guided her over to a man and woman who were drinking long-necked beers. “The lady is Stephanie, veterinarian superb,” Josh said, “and the loafer is Clint Morgan, chopper pilot, police-chief-to-be and your predecessor at the cabin.”
    Stephanie smiled. “Welcome,” she said. A striking redhead, she was nearly as tall as Clint. She eyed Joseph. “Shelties are great dogs. Where did you find him?”
    Andy hesitated. She really hated to admit she’d needed help.
    But then she shrugged. “A group specializing in matching dogs with veterans. A psychologist at the hospital arranged it.”
    â€œHow long have you had him?” Stephanie asked.
    â€œAbout three weeks.”
    â€œHe’s obviously well trained. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.”
    â€œWe’re getting used to each other. I thought there would be other dogs here.”
    â€œWe tried to restrain ourselves tonight,” Stephanie said with a big grin. “I have two at home. Clint has one. Josh has Amos, and Eve has four rescues. We thought to keep your first visit relatively peaceful. We didn’t want you to run back to Texas on your second day.”
    â€œSit,” Josh said. “I’m putting steaks on the grill. How do you like yours?”
    â€œMedium.” She put her drink on a table and sank down into one of the lounge chairs. She looked at Stephanie. “Are