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he sat up and stretched his bad leg, willing it to get stronger. Forrest knew he would be struggling with his injury for the rest of his life, so there was no room for feeling sorry for himself. Rising from the bed, he headed toward his workout equipment. He might have a bum leg, but he was damned if the rest of him wouldn’t be as strong as possible.

      A few hours later, Forrest arrived at the hospital conference room early with the sandwiches and cookies, and set the chairs in a circle. Annabel Cates rushed into the room with Smiley on a leash.

      “Here he is,” she said. “Ready to work his canine magic. Plus a few treats you can give him,” she added, handing him a plastic bag.

      Forrest’s heart lifted at the sight of the dog. “Good to see you, Smiley,” he said and rubbed the dog behind his ears. Smiley thumped his tail in response.

      “He should be on his best behavior since I gave him some retraining. Can’t let him forget the rules. If you need me for anything, give me a call,” she said. “You’ve got my cell, right?”

      “I’ve got it and thank you for loaning him to us,” Forrest said. “I think he’ll help break the ice.”

      “This is a good thing you’re doing, Forrest. I’m glad if Smiley can help in any way. Just don’t give him any of those sandwiches,” she warned him. “No matter how sweet he looks, we’ve got to keep him disciplined if he’s going to be helpful.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You’re the one giving the orders.”

      Annabel gave a quick nod with a smile. “I’ll see you afterward. Have fun,” she said and darted out the door.

      “Fun,” Forrest echoed. That was one word he wouldn’t have associated with a support group. He shrugged and looked at Smiley. “Maybe she knows something I don’t.”

      Less that two minutes later, a man wearing a ball-cap and an open down jacket walked through the door. “Is this the war veterans support group?”

      “It sure is,” Forrest said. “I’m Forrest Traub, army.”

      The man nodded. “Iraq?” he said.

      Forrest nodded. “And you?”

      “Afghanistan. Steve Henderson. I’ve been back almost eighteen months.”

      Smiley walked toward the man and looked at him, thumping his tail in welcome.

      Steve bent down to pet the dog and gave a half grin. “Is this our mascot?”

      “Yep, that’s Smiley. He’s a therapy dog on loan to us, and I’ll vouch for him. He’ll always be glad to see you,” Forrest said.

      “Well, that’s a lot more than we can say about most humans,” Steve said.

      Just then, another man walked through the door, then another. Smiley greeted each one, and Forrest could practically see a bit of tension ease out of the men at the sight of the dog. Eyeing the clock, he sensed that he should start the meeting and closed the door.

      “Welcome, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the sandwiches and Smiley.”

      The men took their seats and murmured in agreement.

      “The first thing I want to tell you is that you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I have to be honest. Most of the time, I would rather do anything than talk about what I saw and experienced in Iraq.”

      Several of the men nodded.

      “But since this group was my idea, I guess I’ve got to go first.”

      A few chuckles rippled through the small group.

      Forrest took a deep breath. “During my last two tours, all I could think about was the day I would finally come home. I was determined to be career military, but seeing all those guys get hurt was tough. Being in Iraq was surreal, and not in a good way. Once I got home, though, it was Montana that didn’t seem like the real world anymore. People couldn’t understand what I’d been through, what I’d seen. And I got tired of explaining it.”

      “So what helps?” one of the vets asked.

      Forrest shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. I have to admit, I took the coward’s way out—leaving home. After being home, I had to get out. I just moved to Thunder Canyon a few months ago. Folks don’t know me here as well since my brother and I haven’t lived here very long. They don’t have any expectations.” He paused. “What helps? Smiley sure does.” The dog licked him and laughter rippled through the small room.

      The laughter turned to silence. “The nights are the worst. I’m back there, and the shells are flying, and I can’t stop screaming,” Steve offered. A few of the others nodded in agreement.

      “The nightmares are bad. They feel so real,” Forrest said.

      “Coming back to my wife helped me,” one of the men said. “She’s the reason I keep going.”

      “I felt that way about my girlfriend,” another soldier said. “But it’s hard now. I’m not the same man I was before. I’m not sure it’s going to work out. What about you, Forrest? Do you have anyone special in your life?”

      An image of Angie flashed in his mind, taking him by surprise. He shook his head for his own benefit as much as the others. “No. I’m not ready for a relationship. I’m busy putting Humpty Dumpty back together. That doesn’t mean you guys aren’t ready, though,” he quickly added. “We’re all at different places in this. It’s not easy. That’s why I wanted to start this group.” He glanced at the clock. “Hard to believe, but our time is up.”

      He gave a wry grin. “And we all survived.”

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