“You mentioned demons.” She said it quietly. Not sure he wanted to talk about it. Her father had always sent her to her room if she asked about his deployments, what he did.
“Yeah.” David fell silent for a while. His hand was a comforting weight on hers, though. A sign he wasn’t pushing her away. “It’s a weird thing, being over there. You become…institutionalized. And when you come home, you feel out of step. Hard to back down from the level of hyperawareness you need to maintain overseas. People want you to be a hero. But they want you to be the perfect citizen, too. The problem is, to be out there and survive, you become a rough man…ready to do violence.”
It was a part of a saying. It swam up from her memory as one of the things her stepfather had repeated often at the dinner table.
People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.
The line was attributed to George Orwell. Her mind brought up the source she’d researched. The words had always stuck with her but some of her Internet research had said it wasn’t a direct quote, more an interpretation of what the man had said. She’d looked it up in the hopes of impressing her stepfather. But he’d pinned her with a stare and asked her if she truly appreciated what the words meant or the men who stood ready to defend her sleep.
Until now, listening to David, she hadn’t.
“It’s not fair to expect you to switch gears when you come back.” It was hard to know what to say so she went with what she thought, felt. Honest.
He barked out a laugh. “True. I try not to think about fair. Life’s generally not.”
“But some people try to make it that way.” She would, moving forward. No matter where tomorrow took them. Mostly because she’d always been told life wasn’t. And seriously, it wouldn’t ever be if no one ever tried.
“Yeah.” David shook his head. “I thought Forte was crazy when he said he was going back to his hometown to open up a kennel. But he’d saved every penny from the day he enlisted. And it added up. Then he got me and Rojas to come out to look at the place. It was huge. Right in the middle of a decent-sized town and close to a couple of different cities, but still private.”
“Perfect?” She could imagine. All the different environments to fit a wandering soul. They could go to whatever surroundings their mood needed in a day trip. Or night.
“Absolutely.”
“I can see the draw.” They’d even come several states away and were still going to make it back in one day. She wondered if he’d even considered stopping for the night.
“Besides. Working with the dogs helped.” David lifted his chin to indicate the rearview mirror. Looking up, she could see Atlas in the mirror too. “Look at him. He loved unconditionally.”
Hearing the word come from David, easily, tugged at her. Too many men wouldn’t say the word even about somebody else. Like the word was somehow a worse curse than any other four-letter word in existence.
“Dogs do.” And she loved them back. Every one she’d ever met. Because they were so worth it.
“A dog like him—one with a heart that big—he loves without question once he decides to give it,” David continued. “He laid his life on the line for his handler, because to him, it was worth it. But sometimes half the team doesn’t make it back.”
David paused.
“It wasn’t his fault.” Never. Not even knowing what had truly happened, she wouldn’t believe Atlas had failed his handler.
Sometimes, no matter how hard anyone tries, lives are lost.
“No. And I thought maybe he’d pine away. Some of them do. And it would’ve hurt Calhoun worse than dying all over again if his dog had died of heartbreak. Calhoun would’ve wanted somebody to help Atlas through this. And someday, maybe Atlas will choose somebody new to look to.” David glanced over at Lyn.
Her heart leaped. And then she squashed the happy dance. Atlas wasn’t hers. None of the dogs she worked with were actually hers.
Atlas stirred in the back, having heard his name. He gave a quiet whine.
Her own bladder decided to alert her to the amount of time they’d been moving. Glancing at the clock, she couldn’t believe how much time had already gone by over the course of their conversation. “So how close is the next rest stop?”
“Not far.” David released her hand and picked up his phone. A quiet command and the phone’s GPS kicked in. “There’re stops all up and down this highway. If not actual rest stops, then exits to get food or gas.”
No sooner had he said so than a sign came up for a rest stop in a couple of miles. They sat in companionable silence as they approached and he pulled into a parking spot to one side, closer to a patch of grass and some trees.
“You go on ahead and I’ll let Atlas take care of his business.” David gathered up Atlas’s leash from the console between them.