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I had to think back, even though the entire conversation was seared in my brain, just to make sure. “No.”

“Why is that?”

I had an answer at the ready, but Chandra cleared her throat and gave me a pointed look. Fine, yes. One of the things we’d worked through in those first few weeks were my antiquated notions about what made a man and how I had to shoulder problems. Part of it was society, part of it was Marine mentality. And honestly, part of it was how I was built. Payton had said it best that day when he came to me for help. I was a protector.

“We didn’t get to it,” I said, which was mostly true.

“Really?” No judgement, just an honest question.

“Mostly.” I let out a long slow breath. “I could have maybe moved the conversation in that direction. But…” I had to take another breath in order to admit, “I wasn’t ready.”

Chandra’s face lit up. “I want you to acknowledge the progress you’ve made, Bodhi. Really sit with that. You’re talking about it within the boundaries you’re comfortable with.”

I wasn’t quite sure I agreed with her, but she was the expert. “Thanks.”

Her eyes darted to the side, and then focused on me again. “We’re out of time, but two things. First, I want you to remember that healing isn’t linear, right? Maybe you’ve turned a corner, maybe you’ll be able to tell someone else and let go of some of the burden you’re carrying. Maybe not. Try not to beat yourself up about either option.”

I snorted but nodded. I’d come a long way in how I viewed therapy and healing from mental trauma, but the reminder was good to hear. “What’s the second thing?”

“You actually are making progress.”

“Right.”

Chandra chuckled and let my slightly sarcastic statement sit there. “Our regularly scheduled appointment is in two weeks. Do you want to meet again next week?”

I’d been seeing her monthly for a while now, and that had been enough. This was the first time I’d ever had to have an emergency appointment. My gut was to immediately say that our regular appointment was fine, but since she reminded me I was actually making progress, I sat with that for a moment or two. Then I shook my head.

“Regular appointment is fine,” I said firmly. Then, “But if things change, I’ll reach out.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Talk to you then.”

I said my goodbye as well and we ended the video call. I blew out an explosive breath and sat back in my chair. Letting everything wash over me and through me.

I knew PFC Alvarez’s death was not my fault. During the investigation, it was discovered that Alvarez had lied during his MEPS eval, particularly about the state of his mental health. The truth was, he was not in a good state of mind to join the military. No one had caught it. But that didn’t mean that the treatment he received during boot was acceptable. His DI had ultimately been reprimanded as well, receiving a reduction in rank and pay, due to his blatant disrespect.

But I’d been one of the people that missed how hard the private was struggling. I’d missed the mistreatment too. And it was part of my job to see that. There was a part of me that would always feel guilt about missing it.

That, coupled with the fact that the incident had been swept under the rug, was what led me to drop my packet and separate. I was proud to serve my country up until that point. I still thought the military was necessary. Plenty of changes had happened in the past decade, and I knew more were to come. But I couldn’t be a part of it any longer. I didn’t doubt my choice for a second.

Even though I’d finished my Marine career without physical wounds, the mental ones ran deep. I was lucky that I was in a position to receive treatment for my PTSD. Plenty of vets didn’t.

A thought struck me and I sat up quickly and pulled my laptop closer. Now that Wren had paid my loan off, everything that came in, after salaries and expenses, was profit. I was already planning on hiring a full-time instructor so I didn’t have to rely so heavily on my family. Hawk, Demi, and Dad were always willing to help—and refused to take compensation—but I needed someone with me all the time.

But I could do more. Equine therapy was a real thing. It helped thousands of people every year. It could help military veterans too.

I started opening tabs. I had a lot of research to do. It was lucky we didn’t have a session this week.

Sunday dawned bright and cold, a perfect fall day. I stood on the porch of the dining hall and just breathed in the air. Imelda called out to me, but only to say hi, and went right back to foraging. Ez decided that was an invitation to be nosy and trotted up, but she kicked a back leg in his direction so he wouldn’t get too close. Ez whinnied, but found another spot of what was left of the grass to chomp on.

The door behind me opened and I turned to see Nick carrying a tray with a carafe of coffee, three mugs, and cream and sugar. Without a word, he set it on the small table between the four Adirondack chairs to the left of the door. Then he went back inside. I shook my head with a smirk. The man liked to pretend he wasn’t sociable, and really he wasn’t, but he was the kind of chef that always thought about guests' needs.

Not that my brother and his boyfriend were guests. I would have brought them upstairs to my apartment the moment they arrived and handled my refreshments myself. But Nick had it handled, so I guessed I was going to have this meeting on the porch.

Hawk’s truck rounded the curve not two minutes later, and the sound had Gremlin racing from the barn to check out what visitors we had. She was the nosiest cat I’d ever had, and she settled herself on the arm of one chair, eyes watching Hawk and Carter as they got out of the truck and headed my way.

Greetings were quick and included back slapping hugs, but once we were all seated with coffee, me petting my cat, Carter raised a brow.

“All right. What can we help you with?” Carter said, smile wide, as he reached out to Hawk. It was one thing I noticed about Carter, after he and Hawk got their shit together. My brother still wasn’t a people person, and he wasn’t demonstrative, but Carter couldn’t keep his hands off Hawk. And Hawk soaked it in. He didn’t even react when Carter flipped his cap around so the brim was at the back.