Callie steps out of her car in jeans and a lightweight jacket, hair loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back. It's the first time I've seen it down, and my brain short-circuits.
"Hey," I manage, which is not my smoothest opener.
"Hey." She approaches the truck, peering through the window at Ranger. "Someone's excited."
"He loves this place. Lots of smells. Occasional wildlife."
"Wildlife?"
"Squirrels, mostly. The occasional deer." I open the back door and Ranger launches himself out like he's been caged for years instead of minutes. "He's very passionate about squirrels."
"Passionate how?"
"You'll see."
Clearwater Lake spreads out before us as we head down the main trail—fifteen minutes outside Pine Valley, far enough to feel like an escape. The water catches the late afternoon light, turning everything gold and copper. Mountains rise in the distance, their reflections rippling across the surface. A few fishing boats dot the far shore, and families are scattered along the small beach, packing up for the day.
It's the kind of place that makes you forget there's a world beyond the Rockies. The kind of place where problems feel smaller and time moves slower.
"I forget how beautiful it is out here," Callie says, and there's something in her voice—wonder, maybe, or relief.
"You don't come often?"
"Not as much as I should. The clinic keeps me busy." She watches Ranger trot ahead, nose to the ground. "Plus, it's better with a dog. Feels less like exercise and more like an adventure."
"Ranger's available for adventure consultations anytime."
"Is that so?"
"Very reasonable rates. Belly rubs and the occasional treat."
Her mouth quirks. "I'll keep that in mind."
We walk in comfortable silence for a while, following the path along the shore. The tension that usually crackles between us has softened into something easier. She's not armored up the way she was at the clinic or on base. Out here, away from the gossip network and the professional boundaries, she's just... Callie.
I like it. A lot.
"So," she says eventually. "Pine Valley. You've been here, what, two years?"
"About that."
"And before?"
"Various bases. Colorado Springs for a while. Germany for two years. A stint in Japan." I kick a pebble off the path. "You move a lot in this job."
"Does it get old? The moving?"
The honest answer sits heavy in my chest. "Sometimes. You get good at making friends fast, but you also get good at leaving them." I glance at her. "What about you? You grew up here?"
"Born and raised. Left for vet school, came back." She pauses. "Well. Came back eventually."
"Eventually?"
"I spent a few years in Denver first. Big practice, lots of resources, good money." Her jaw tightens slightly. "It wasn't for me."
There's more to that story. I can hear it in the spaces between her words. But she doesn't offer, and I don't push.
"Pine Valley's lucky to have you," I say instead. "Mrs. Patterson's cat certainly thinks so."
