Chapter 31
RANGER
Living with Julian is surprisingly easy. I thought I’d need time to get used to him, especially since he brought his whole menagerie with him, but it’s been a smooth transition.
I can’t believe all his animals survived the fire when so many didn’t. I don’t know if it’s because they’re smart—though for Butler, that’s debatable—or because they would do anything for him. Maybe both.
Fact is that I’ve never built a fence faster in my life, and it now holds five horses and a donkey.
When I purchased this house, I never thought I’d use the acreage that came with it.
I’d bought it mostly to ensure my privacy and because the land came with water rights.
At the time, I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do with my life, but somewhere in the back of my mind was the thought that no matter what I’d do, access to water would come in handy, and here we are.
Having the animals here means sticking to a routine, which I’m already used to, thanks to Julian being here for three weeks. I get up when he does, and together, we check on the animals, fill their water troughs, and feed them.
I love that quiet time in the morning with him, when he hasn’t done his hair yet, and it’s sticking up in every direction.
When he uses funny voices to talk to all the animals, and I swear they understand every word he says.
When he still has those heavy-lidded eyes and that dopey, sleepy smile.
When he’s snuggly and wants to cuddle on the couch with our first cup of coffee as soon as we’re back inside.
He’s adorable. I never thought I’d say that about a man and mean it in the very best way imaginable.
After coffee, we shower. Usually together, another new routine I’ve come to appreciate. He’s often handsy in the shower, and I love how confident he is in his touch.
And then I work. Gone are the days where I’d look at the clock and wonder how I had spent a whole day on the couch and not notice. There’s too much to do, and it’s given me a sense of purpose that had been missing.
I’ve built extra shelves in my bedroom so Julian has a place to put his clothes.
He didn’t bring much, but we’ve bought new shirts and pants, and the shelves are slowly filling.
Julian tackled cleaning the kitchen, which, I’m embarrassed to admit, was way past due.
He waved off my mumbled apologies for the sorry state it was in, repeating that he understood until I stopped apologizing, accepting he really didn’t care.
I’ve fixed the potholes in the driveway, checked the roof for possible leaks, cut down a dead tree, and my next project is the master bathroom, which desperately needs an update. The tiles are baby blue and most likely dating back to the eighties. ‘Nuff said.
“You’re very handy,” Julian muses. He’s sitting on one of the rocking chairs on the porch while I stand on a ladder, installing a diversion from the gutter into a rain barrel system I bought.
Those water rights are going to pay off big-time, and with this many animals, we use a lot of water each day.
It doesn’t rain that often, but when it does, I want to catch every drop.
“I like working with my hands.” I critically inspect the tightness of the screws. Yes, that should do the job.
“You’re good at it.”
I shrug, then carefully climb down the ladder. “Learned a lot from my dad when I was young and then in the Army. I’ve always had a practical, problem-solving mind, and I’m good at picking up technical skills, stuff you can do with your hands.”
“Maybe you can do that for the long term.”
We’ve talked about the future. Hesitantly, neither of us willing to risk too much by going too fast, but I told him I have about a year more of savings before I need to get more serious about earning an income.
“Like being a handyman?”
“Sure. Or a contractor for smaller things. I’m sure that if you put your mind to it, you could learn to do even more.”
I wipe my brow off with a bandana and then lower myself in the other rocking chair. “That’s not a bad idea, actually. I joined the Army straight out of high school. It’s not like I have a broad set of skills that’s easily transferable to civilian life.”
“Ranger…”
He sounds pained, and I frown. “What?”
“You’re so dismissive of your skills, of your talents and expertise.”
I look at my hands, which are rough and blistered from my hard work in the last few weeks. “My talent is being a soldier. It’s killing the enemy and hopefully preventing myself and my team from getting killed.”
“Is that how you regard your brother?”
I’ve told him about Lucky and his men, and he’s excited to meet them. We actually have a tentative plan to go sailing next Saturday, god help me. But why is Julian bringing up Lucky?
“No, of course not. First of all, he was a Marine, which a lot more people hold in higher esteem. Rangers aren’t as well known.
And second, he’s supersmart. He’s a parole officer, but he could’ve easily become an FBI agent or something.
He did go to college, has the degree and all, like you, and he can read people like a book. ”
Julian is quiet for a long time, his face serious and pensive. “I did a little research into the Rangers,” he finally says.
“You did?”
“I’d heard of them, but I wasn’t sure what they did exactly. The more I read, the more impressed I was.”
As always, I’m deeply uncomfortable with praise like that. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to accept it, but I can’t. “Thank you?”
“I looked at the numbers. There are way more Marines than there are Rangers.”
“Yes.”
“You can join the Marines straight out of high school, but going to Ranger School is awarded to the best soldiers to start with, and only the best of those are selected to actually join the Ranger regiment. You were selected for that elite unit.”
Wow, he’s really done his research. “Yes. I was part of the 75th regiment, second battalion out of Fort Lewis, Washington.”
“The courses to get there are insanely difficult.”
I think back on Ranger School when I became familiar with levels of exhaustion I’d never known before. “Yeah. It’s no walk in the park.”
He gets up from his chair, then walks over to me and kneels between my legs, putting his hands on my knees.
“I don’t know what happened to you that you’ve come to look down on yourself when you were selected for one of the most elite troops our country has.
No offense to your brother, but your odds to get in were way, way smaller than his. ”
Huh. He’s right. I knew that, rationally, but I’ve always looked up to Lucky, even though he’s my younger brother.
He just seemed so put together, even after he left the Marines.
So many men I knew struggled with the transition to civilian life, but his was seamless.
He made a plan, and he followed it, rolling from one career into the other without problems. Unlike me.
He left when he was ready. He left of his own accord, on his own timing. You didn’t. You were honorably discharged because you had to be, because you were no longer fit to serve.
I knew that. Of course I did. But it’s never hit me like this, and suddenly, it all makes sense.
“I compare myself to him,” I say, my voice raw and hoarse.
“He made it look so easy when he got out, and I struggled so much. It made me feel like I was less than him. Less capable, less skilled. Just…less.”
Julian’s eyes are full of compassion. “I figured. Did he ever say something to that effect? Because if he did, he and I need to have a word.”
The idea of Julian confronting my badass Marine brother is incredibly sweet, and my heart fills with gratitude for the day this man walked into my life. “No, that’s all me. Rationally, I know that having PTSD doesn’t mean you’re weak, but…”
“It’s hard not to feel that way deep inside,” Julian finishes my sentence, and I nod.
“I guess I still judged myself for it, for needing time to recover. For not being as perfect as Lucky.”
Julian harrumphs. “I sincerely doubt your brother is perfect. When we go sailing, let’s ask his boyfriends to list all his bad habits and annoying quirks. I’m sure he has a few.”
That idea is wonderfully appealing, and I smile. “He’s pretty full of himself at times. When he’s convinced he’s right, he’ll steamroll right over your objections. And he snores like a fucking freight train.”
Julian throws up his hands. “See? Far from perfect.”
I let out a deep sigh, and with it, some more of the weight I’ve been carrying around for far too long. “My journey may be a longer one than I want…a longer one than I had counted on and maybe than I have the patience for.”
Julian takes my hands and kisses them one by one. “There’s no timeline for this. And we both know some of it may never heal…and that’s okay too. As long as you have hope.”
“Yeah,” I say hoarsely. “I’ve got hope.”