Georgia nods. “Well, this place saved my life. I came here pretty dependent on painkillers after my accident.”
“And living here has helped that?” Roxanne asks with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, yes. That’s the mission of Firebird Ranch, Rusty, you want to do the honors and tell our guests what the mission statement is?”
Rusty, his mouth full of steak, holds up a finger. He swallows and takes a sip of water. “Be happy to, although you do fine yourself, Georgia.” Rusty wipes his mouth and continues. “At Firebird Ranch, we believe in rebuilding from the inside out. That means offering tools for healing that go beyond prescriptions. We believe in connection, responsibility, movement, and purpose. We don’t shame anyone for their past or their choices. While you’re here, we’ll show you what healing can look like without numbing out.”
Allie and Leo raise a glass to Rusty, who also raises his.
“That’s great, really,” Allie says.
“And how do you do this?” Roxanne asks. She’s leaning forward with one eyebrow arched. “How do you heal beyond prescriptions?”
“Well, of course, it depends on the individual whether our system works or not,” Georgia replies. “They have to want to heal first, but we can get them there with many services like Equine-Assisted Therapy, Forest Walks and Nature-Based Therapy, Daily Group Therapy or Peer-Led Circle options. The list goes on, but you get the idea.”
“I do, but …” Roxanne pauses. By the expression on her face, it looks like two thoughts are wrestling with each other. “I don’t know. I guess I have a hard time believing that nature walks can help with severe trauma better than medication. Medication certainly isn’t the answer for everything, but it certainly helps with trauma-related illnesses.”
“True,” I say. “And for a lot of people, meds are exactly what they need. But for others, it only quiets the symptoms without getting to the root. Out here, we try to teach different ways to manage without leaning on a bottle or a pill. We’re not saying what we do is better. It’s just another option.”
“And if we get more funding, we can help more people, whether or not they are a veteran, by building more programs in other places,” Topper adds.
“A very worthy cause, but I’m not convinced,” Roxanne says.
“I guess we have the summer to prove it to you,” I say, taking a sip of beer.
Roxanne’s eyes grip mine for a moment and then she turns her attention back to Georgia. Dinner ends with an apple crisp, and everyone laughing at Allie and Leo telling stories about some of their travels abroad. The evening is officially winding down when Allie claps her hands together. “Okay, tell them the story about the club in Buenos Aires, Rox?”
Roxanne’s red lips twist into a frown. “No.”
“Come on,” Leo says. “That’s one of my favorite memories.”
“Leo, if you love me, you won’t—” Roxanne protests.
“She was wearing this divine sparkly silver dress that turned her into a human disco ball.”
Everyone laughs.
“Leo had on skintight, shimmery pink pants and a neon yellow tank top. It was perfection,” Allie says.
Leo shrugs and continues. “At the time, Roxanne was chasing an interview with a DJ-slash-activist, Echo Raza, who frequented this underground club.”
Roxanne buries her face in her hand.
“So, thanks to Roxanne we get past the bouncers,” Allie says. “It’s chaos. Sweaty, loud, no-air-conditioning chaos.”
“What did you do to get past the bouncers?” Georgia asks.
“Nothing really,” Roxanne says, her cheeks flushing.
Allie nudges Roxanne. “Roxanne has this way of using her feminine wiles to get a man’s attention.”
“I do not,” Roxanne says, her voice pinched. She ducks her head trying to hide the flush hitting her cheeks. She’s embarrassed, and I’m a little pissed off how much I notice. I shouldn’t care, I don’t care, but something about that flustered look messes with me. It’s none of my business who used to chase her attention. So why the hell do I suddenly want to know exactly what she looked like lit up like a disco ball and hypnotizing men with her charm?
“We finally spot Echo, that’s the DJ, in one of the VIP rooms,” Leo says. “Roxanne goes in alone and at first everything seems fine, but then I get this feeling when an hour goes by and Roxanne doesn’t come out. I figure I better go check.”
“Leo peels away the curtain to see Echo, this six-foot-five, gold chain, sunglasses indoors kind of guy, getting a little too handsy with Rox,” Allie says after a sip of wine.
“I told him I obviously wasn’t interested,” Roxanne adds.
