“C’mon,” Topper says, extending his hand. Allie says nothing, takes it, and he leads her away.
Roxanne and I watch the lovebirds for a second.
“Well, I know where Allie will be sleeping tonight.”
“Yup. That’s why Topper parked his tent at the farthest end of the clearing.”
Roxanne turns, meeting my eyes and I continue my inquisition. “Seriously, what did Garrett say to you?”
“It’s nothing,” she says. “You told me he’s hurting.”
“That’s no excuse. If he made you uncomfortable, you say the word and I’ll walk him off the mountain myself.”
Her lips tug into a half smile. “It’s okay, really, he was just flirting with us. He offered that I could share his tent tonight, and when I obviously declined, he made a nasty comment and then made an offer to Allie.”
“Rusty will talk sense into him, and we’ll all make sure he stays away from y’all the rest of the trip.”
“I appreciate that.”
Her expression softens, eyes bright with something like relief. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”
“Want to shuck some corn?”
“I think so,” she says.
I walk her over to Georgia, who hands her an ear of corn while I help stoke the fire under our makeshift cooktop. Soon the camp hums with the rhythm of shared work—fish sizzling, veggies roasting, someone teasing Topper for burning the bread again. Dinner ends slow with hearty conversations and plates scraped clean of grilled trout, roasted corn, and Millie’s apple cobbler that left everyone licking their fingers. Stedman tosses another log onto the fire, and sparks leap up into the gathering dusk. I stand, brushing my palms on my jeans and cast a look around the group. Everyone gets quiet, which means they’re ready to start the chat.
“All right,” I say, clapping so I can get everyone’s attention. “Normally Fire Circle’s for whatever’s weighing heavy. No pressure, no judgment. You speak if you want. You listen if you don’t.”
My eyes flick to Roxanne and my words get tangled in my throat when I catch her staring at me across the flames.Her gaze pins me in place, steady as a hand to the chest, and for a second, the whole damn world falls away.
I shake my head, which tugs me back to reality. “But tonight’s a little different. Roxanne and Allie are here to help tell your stories with the people of World Explorer, but only what you’re willing to share.”
A few murmured nods ripple through the group.
“They’ve got good ears,” I add, “and even better hearts.”
Roxanne’s lips slowly part, but she swallows and jots something down on her notepad. I sink down onto a log bench and gesture for her to take it from here.
“First, thank you, for being willing to share your experiences,” Roxanne starts. She leans forward, her pen poised.“The first thing I’d like to ask is, what was the biggest challenge you faced when you came home?”
Roxanne and Allie stand at the ready, waiting for the first person to break the silence. Finally, Stedman shifts on his bench and starts to speak. “I spent most of my adult life telling men where to move, where to dig in, where to find cover. After I hung up the uniform, I felt adrift without a flock to watch over, so to speak.”
He clasps his hands on his knees.
“Took me a long time to realize it wasn’t the giving orders I missed, it was the sense of purpose you get from the mission. When you’re on a mission, everything seems to move at the speed of light compared to when you get home and you wake up in your own bed with this feeling of … now what.”
More murmurs of agreement move through the group. Roxanne and Allie silently write as fast as their hands allow. Millie sits straight-backed on the bench, her face illuminated in the soft amber light from the fire.
“I spent twenty years in uniform,” she says. “Led teams that crossed oceans. Signed my name to missions that changed lives.When I spoke, people listened. Not because I shouted the loudest, but because they trusted I knew how to get them home.”
She pauses, the fire crackling gently in the silence she leaves.
“When I came back, that rank I fought so hard for suddenly didn’t mean much. I was just another face in the store to the man checking out my groceries and to the bank teller or the woman at the carwash. I didn’t need a parade. I didn’t need a thank you. I … I didn’t know how to be useful anymore.”
“I felt that,” Georgia adds. Millie lifts her chin, and Georgia wraps her arm around her. “But now you found a new mission, yeah?”
Millie nods. “Yes. I finished my degree, became a counselor, and figured maybe helping one soul at a time was a better legacy than any medals gathering dust in a box.”
