The Cowboy Soldier

“Please. Do you have any idea how many veterans like Rafe fall through the cracks in our system? When my brother was discharged, the military doctor pulled me aside and mentioned how many commit suicide after they go home. It’s shocking. I don’t want my brother to be one of them.” Her eyes filled.

Alexa spread her hands helplessly. “His case is tragic, I agree. But he needs MDs who are trained to treat the casualties of war.”

“It’s not Rafe’s first tragedy,” Sierra said, blotting her eyes on a sleeve. “When I was sixteen and Rafe fourteen, our parents died in a highway accident. I dropped out of school, got my GED and worked two jobs so we could eat and keep Rafe in school. Our folks wanted more for him than to farm and rodeo like our dad.

“Rafe graduated,” she continued proudly. “He went to college and got a job caring for rodeo stock. Summers he rode in the circuit. He also crusaded to stiffen the rules governing the health of rodeo animals. Rafe loved horses more than winning buckles.” Her eyes cut to the horse in Alexa’s pen. “Rafe’s dream was to own a ranch like yours when he retired from the army,” she said softly.

Alexa knew Sierra was trying to play on her sympathies, but she was determined to stay strong. “How did he get from rodeos to the military, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Nine-eleven happened. Rafe and his two best friends from the rodeo joined the army. My brother was a good soldier. He pulled two tours in Iraq after basic training and was promoted several times before ending up in Afghanistan. It was the first time he and his friends landed in the same unit. Now Mike and Joey are dead, and I’m afraid Rafe wishes it’d been him instead.”

Alexa knew all about guilt. It was the reason she lived here at the ranch her grandfather had left her instead of running her practice in Houston. She’d needed solitude. And now that solitude was being threatened by the gut-wrenching pain in Sierra Martinez’s eyes.

“What do you really know about holistic medicine?” Alexa asked abruptly.

“Our maternal grandmother was a curandera.”

“Ah, a Hispanic healer. I trained with a Chinese herbalist, but I also work with native desert plants. They have many of the same properties as those used by the Chinese.”

“My brother was a vital man once, but his spirit is dead. I believe there is a natural solution that won’t kill his self-esteem—that won’t mask who he is,” Sierra declared, biting her trembling lower lip. “I’m confident you’ll be able to help him.”

“Do you have any family or friends living near a VA facility your brother could stay with while he gets treated?” Alexa felt herself weakening and tried to guard against it.

“No.” Sierra hugged the dog-eared chart to her chest. “Since we lost our parents, it’s been Rafe and me against the world. I know it’s presumptuous to drop in on you. But he’s my brother and I can’t bear to see him like this.”

Alexa’s stomach tightened. As the only child of a busy oil tycoon, she used to long for a sibling. Her dad had had little time for her. Her mom had never understood her, and still didn’t, even though she meant well. Alexa’s compassion for people and animals came from tagging along after the veterinarian who looked after her father’s extensive stable of race horses. And from a true, unconditional friendship with tough-talking, fun-loving Bobby Duval. He’d been like a brother.

Rubbing the V between her brows, she sighed. “I’ll tell you what…if your brother agrees, and if he signs a release allowing alternative care, I’ll consent to treat him on a thirty-day trial. He can help out on my ranch in trade. If he shows no improvement after a month, or if I think he’s losing ground, I want a promise you’ll help him move somewhere closer to a VA outpatient facility.”

Sierra’s face flooded with relief, and she nodded. She gave Alexa back the thick medical file. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I know Rafe will agree. I’ll bring him tomorrow after I drop my older twins at school. I’ll pack the basics for him, but if you think of anything else he might need, you can always call me.” Without waiting for Alexa’s response, Sierra hurried to her van. Leaping in, she revved the engine and drove off amid plumes of dust so like the ones that had first caught Alexa’s eye. Alexa choked on the billowing particles and wondered what in heaven’s name she’d done.

RAFE EAGLEFEATHER STILL SAT in the same porch rocker he’d been sitting in when his sister left to run errands. He couldn’t say how long she’d been away, except that a small pile of shavings had accumulated at his feet from the piece of wood he was whittling into a pony.

He felt the breeze and heard the footsteps of his sister’s four kids as they scuttled silently past him to get into the house. That meant Sierra had stopped to collect Curt and Chloe from school. He let them go by without speaking to him. Both sets of twins had been born while he was out of the country, so they didn’t really know him. Sierra had told them their uncle Rafe was blind and couldn’t see to play games with them. Besides, that was the last thing he felt like doing.

“Hi, Rafe.” Sierra sank into the chair beside him. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I wish you wouldn’t whittle when I’m not here.”

“Doug gave me the wood,” Rafe said, folding up his pocketknife.

“I know, but I worry you’ll cut yourself. It looks like you’ve been at this project awhile. I’ll get a broom and sweep up after I start supper.”

He bent and tried to pick up the wood curls. “I know you asked me to use a waste basket in the house, but I figured the shavings would blow away out here.”

“It’s okay. Come inside. I need to make a meat loaf.”

“You go ahead. I like being out in the fresh air.” It was the truth, Rafe thought. “If I bought a cot, I could sleep out here on the porch.”

He heard Sierra sigh.

“Oh, Rafe. I’m sorry you’re stuck on the couch. Doug’s been so busy he hasn’t had much time to work on the addition.”

“No problem, Sierra. I don’t care where I sleep.”

Rafe could sense his sister’s hesitation in the short pause that followed.

“Uh, Rafe, I need to talk to you about something,” she said at last.

Whatever it was, Rafe realized, his sister was worried that he wouldn’t like it.

“There’s a healer who lives a couple of hours away,” she continued. “A woman. She uses herbs in place of pharmaceuticals. I went to meet her and had her look at your medical report to get her opinion. She’s nice, Rafe, and lives on a ranch with horses.”

Sierra was speaking to him the way she would to her children, Rafe thought. He felt a gentle hand rest on his knee.

“Her name is Dr. Robinson. She’s willing to work with you for a month—see if she can help you get off those antidepressants. What do you think?”

He thought that Sierra just couldn’t seem to accept that he’d be like this for the rest of his life.

“Say something, dammit!” Sierra pulled back and withdrew her hand from him.

“Say what?” Rafe asked.

“The old Rafe would tell me to stop meddling in his life. Where’s your spunk? It’s your life, your future I’m trying to save, Rafe.”

He knew his lack of response frustrated his kindhearted sister, but there was nothing he could do to change that.

“I’ll go if you want me to,” he said. “But the truth is…I couldn’t see in Houston. I can’t see here. That’s my future, Sierra.”

“No it isn’t. You’re only thirty-five. That’s why I want you to see this doctor. You have a lot of years ahead of you and I’m going to do everything I can to make them good ones.”

Rafe made no comment to that.

Sierra touched the collar of his shirt, then she kissed his cheek. “I’m going inside. Doug should be home soon. I know he’ll want to eat and try to do some framing on the addition while there’s still daylight. We’ll go to Dr. Robinson’s tomorrow after I drop Curt and Chloe off at kindergarten. I’ll see if Doug’s sister is available to watch Maris and Melina for a few hours. They’d go crazy cooped up in car seats for such a long drive.”

“They’re good kids, Sierra. I hear you tell them not to bother me but I wish you wouldn’t. This is their home. I’m the intruder.”

“Never. You’re family. And if you think I’m shuffling you off to Alexa Robinson’s to get rid of you, that’s simply not true. I’m praying you’ll come back the old Rafe.”

“That’ll take a miracle.”

“Then I’ll say novenas.”

“A novena only runs nine days. The military docs worked on me six months.”

“Dr. Robinson is giving you one month. So I’ll do three novenas.”

Rafe heard the screen door slam, so obviously she’d missed his shrug. Bless her heart. Sierra refused to believe he really didn’t give a damn.

BY LATE AFTERNOON the next day, Alexa was prepared to take Sierra Martinez aside and tell her she’d made a mistake. How would it look to customers coming to see about horses or the park rangers who occasionally brought her sick animals if they found her living alone with a patient. Or even if word got around that she was treating human patients. She’d been hurt by lies and rumors once and didn’t want to go through that again.