Page 6 of Her Summer Hope

The trees were so green and beautiful along the trail that it was hard to stay melancholy for long. The old wars faded to the back of his mind as he contemplated new ones. His next campaign was going to be getting the first couple of guests settled into their rooms and making sure they were comfortable.

They had no strict check-out dates and the amount of time an individual stayed would be dependent on their rehabilitation status. After that, they would be released to go wherever they wished with as much help as Kyle could muster.

He was hoping the local community might see fit to welcome some of them in, the ones that had nowhere else to be or didn’t want to go back home to bad memories.

He could think of any number of potential jobs, though some would need to accommodate certain handicaps.

“You think Murdock and Evans are back yet?” John asked from behind.

Kyle scanned the trees and scrub along the trail, ever watchful for threats or danger. There was no telling what you’d find out there, even so close to civilization as they were. Wild animals were the obvious danger, but there were bad people everywhere. He carried his pistol everywhere he went and hoped he’d never have to use it.

“When there are still shots to be downed and stories to be told? Are you kidding?” Kyle said, stopping and spinning around so quickly that John almost ran into him.

He grinned. “Murdock doesn’t drink or tell stories. Hell, he barely talks.”

“Yeah, but Evans does enough for both of them and Murdock will always watch his ass.”

Kyle dropped his ruck and pulled out a protein bar before handing one to John. “You think those folks at Paddy’s believe that shit he tells them?”

“About his eighty-seven confirmed barehanded kills in the mountains along the Af-Pak border? Probably not,” Kyle said chuckling. “If that boy wasn’t in our team, I’d beat his ass just for that.”

John grinned and wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom of his shirt before he hefted his ruck back on. “Nobody’s ever going to know when he’s telling the truth or spinning a yarn.”

“Maybe that’s why he does it,” Kyle speculated. “As long as people are paying attention to his stories and not to him, he can hide in plain sight.”

“Pot. Kettle,” John murmured and gave him a significant look that Kyle completely ignored.

They spent the rest of the hike in silence and Kyle thought about his first guests. They were due to show up soon.

The first was a man who’d had both of his legs—and nearly his head—blown off in an attack in Africa. He had been on the teams, like Kyle and the others, and when his parents had heard of McClellan’s Hope, they knew they wanted their son to have a place there.

He'd accepted him right away and made sure the team of docs and their administrative assistant had coordinated with Veterans Affairs on all the details. The federal government was picky but incompetent, and he was glad he had a liaison to deal with all that. He knew his limitations, and paperwork and bureaucracy were at the top of his no-no list.

He slipped off his hat and scratched his head, feeling the hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where it wasn’t covered by the cap. He should stop and get a haircut. He’d relaxed his grooming standards quite a bit while working on the project, but now that he was going to be meeting guests he should probably look more professional. Nobody would want to trust him with their wounded looking like a scruffy old vet.

—Which meant he was also going to have to start shaving again at some point, and that just sucked. He made a mental note to deal with that too, and to dig out his clean cargo pants.

He drew the line at business suits.

Cargo pants were dressy enough for most things, plus he could carry several extra pistol magazines in his pockets. Jeans would work for his stealth mode days, which he planned to have plenty of.

In no form or fashion was he going to end up in a suit, no matter what.

The second guest they were expecting was a Marine who suffered from a traumatic brain injury and was missing a hand as a result of an IED blast. He’d run out of motivation to do anything and the government-run facilities he’d been to so far were woefully inadequate.

His surviving buddies had emailed Kyle two months ago after news of his project went public nationwide.

The future of his project would be determined by these first battles and he was determined to win them and help the two men as best they could. He wouldn’t accept defeat.

∞∞∞

Kyle checked his reflection in the mirror, wondering when he’d gotten those lines on his forehead, and that one in between his eyes in particular. He supposed it was from long hours squinting into the bright sun at high elevations, looking for the flash of a scope or subtle movement in the wadies.

He guessed he didn’t look too bad. Women seemed to stare now and then.

He’d been too wrapped up in McClellan’s Hope the last couple of years to think about dating, though Evans had insisted that spending time with a woman would get him over whatever was bothering him.

It wouldn’t and he knew it.

---