And for the first time all day, Fern felt safe.
Chapter Seven
Crew liked to pop in for a therapy session first thing after his early morning ranch chores, getting it out of the way before the rest of the world woke up.
He rolled his shoulders as he crossed the thick grass between the barn and the lodge, turning his head to gaze at the mountain. The early morning sun barely crested it. His favorite view.
The view from this very spot changed every day. The sky ran through all the colors from dawn to deep midnight. Even the mountain changed with the seasons.
Until recently, Crew would tell Rhae he wasn’t moving in sync with his surroundings—he stayed the same. Sure, he healed a bit more each day. He smiled more and got stuck in his head less. But nothing felt different.
Now…something had shifted. Like maybe he wasn’t the dull gray glimmer on the horizon anymore. Maybe he was gold running into the palest blue.
When he reached Rhae’s office, he knocked on the open door. Rhae looked up, her smile warm. “Morning, Crew. Come on in.”
He glanced around for the therapy baby, but she wasn’t in the office.
Rhae’s smile softened. “Navy is sleeping in with her daddy.”
He nodded and dropped into the chair across from her desk, the familiar routine settling over him like a well-worn jacket. She asked him about his week, and he told her about helping unloadboxes at the training facility. Heavy lifting. Physical work that didn’t require him to think too hard.
“I’m proud of you for taking that step.” Rhae leaned back in her chair. “That’s progress.”
His jaw tightened. “There’s more.”
She waited in her quiet way, the one that made him relax enough to go on.
“They asked me to move the chopper too.”
Her expression shifted, concern flickering in her eyes. “And?”
“I ran.” The admission tasted like ash. “Like a damn coward.”
“You’re not a coward, Crew.” Her voice was firm, no room for argument. “You’re still working through what happened with Conner. That takes time.”
He stared at the wood floor beneath his boots, his throat working. Time. Everyone kept saying that, like eventually the guilt would just evaporate. Like he’d wake up one day and forget the sound of engine failure and the sight of the fighter jet spiraling to the ground, carrying Conner’s body to an early grave.
The silence stretched between them. Rhae didn’t push. She just waited.
Finally, she shifted in her seat. “I know you’ve been helping with the community garden.”
His head came up, and something in his chest loosened. “Yeah.”
“You look like something’s on your mind.”
“There’s this woman. Fern. She’s designing the garden. Something happened to her. She keeps seeing a truck—outside her house and on the street where she was doing a landscaping job.”
Rhae’s eyes went wider. She had dealt with some scary things too. He and the other vets weren’t privy to the entire story, but he knew the whole ranch had been galvanized into action to protect her.
“Tell me about that,” she urged.
“She has a bad ex. She laid it out for Theo, Willow and me. They gathered information and put some plans in place for her safety. Still…I’m worried about her.” He met Rhae’s gaze. “I just wish I could do more than be her friend.”
“You’re a good friend, Crew. Just be you. Be there for her. And stay vigilant.”
“I intend to.” He fell silent for a long minute. Finally, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up from his collar. “She’s so passionate about plants and growing things.” He paused, aware he was talking faster than usual. “She knows her stuff. Every time I’m around her, I learn something new. She lights up when she talks about soil composition or native species.”
Rhae’s lips curved. “Talking about this puts you in a better mood.”
