Page 7 of Mountain Protector

I don’t have my phone. My car keys.

Oh.

Knox.

I can run through the woods. Stay in the dark.

As I dart into the thick of the trees, I can hear the faint splintering of wood behind me.

And I run even faster.

Pain is a forgotten thing.

All I can think is,Knox.

He said he was Special Forces. Aside from his construction business, he also works for a private security company.

Knox will help me.

I just have to get there.

CHAPTER 2

KNOX

What would I do without friends and video games?

Well.

WithoutWorld of Warcraft, and my friend, Gage, to play with me, I’d spend a lot more nights staring at the ceiling or watching mindless infomercials while my nightmares keep me from sleep.

I’d torture myself with memories of losses and what-ifs, instead of flying across a vast countryside on a flying mount, chatting with Gage over the best strategy to complete our next quest.

One is more real than I’d like it to be, the other rooted in fantasy.

My days are spent dealing with reality—the day-to-day routine of running my construction company, fulfilling my obligations to Green Mountain Guardians, and spending time with my friends when I have the time. That’s not even including the yard work andnever-ending projects at my own house; it seems like as soon as one’s done, another one pops up right after it.

But I don’t mind. I like being busy.

When I first left the Army, I felt adrift. Even though I knew it was time to move on, it was hard leaving my best friends, the years of structure, and the sense of purpose our missions gave me. I wondered if I could be satisfied living back in Vermont after two decades away, no longer the Green Beret I’d prided myself on being, but a civilian again.

At first, it was tough. The farmhouse I bought from my old friend, Tom, was in much worse shape than I remembered it being. The first night here, I woke to raccoons in the attic and a leak in the bathroom, followed by a minor electrical fire in the kitchen the next morning.

Tom hadn’t lied about the house’s condition when he called me with the offer to sell. He knew I was separating from the Army in a couple of months, once my contract was up, so rather than sell his home to a stranger, he wanted to give me the chance to buy it first.

“I know you used to love this house,” he said. “And since you haven’t picked a spot to land after Fort Campbell yet… Well, I thought this might be a sign. I’m tired of the winters here, Knox. Too much snow. Too cold. So I’m moving to Florida. So I thought… you might want to buy this place from me. It’s not in the best shape, and I’m not asking a lot for it, but I know you could fix it up, if you wanted to.”

I agreed with him. It did seem like a sign. That maybe it was time to finally come home.

Those first few months, though? I wasn’t as sure.

I missed my teammates badly. I missed being on a team. The solitude that came with living in the woods of Vermont gave me too much time to think. The idea of starting over in a new career was overwhelming.

There were nights when I was certain I’d made a terrible decision.

But I stuck it out, because one thing I’m not is a quitter.

Two years later, I don’t have any regrets.

---