“That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“I liked it. I was good at what I did. I’m a good people manager.” And then Reese shrugged. “But what you need is a wrangler who is a handyman, to help build that indoor arena for you.”
She saw how much he missed being in the Marine Corps, his whole life torn out from beneath him. Shay wasn’t going to ask if he’d been discharged from the Corps. It had to be due to the PTSD, and it was either an accumulation of trauma, or one big trauma, that had spun this vet out of his orbit and into homelessness. Her stomach tightened in reaction, because the story was familiar for all of them, including herself. “You said you have a degree in business administration?”
“Yes, ma’—I mean, Shay. Yes, I do.”
“By any chance do you have an accounting background?”
He nodded. “I can push numbers around with the best of them.” And then he allowed a hint of a smile. “Unlike Charlie, who uses a twenty-year-old calculator, I’m up on the latest software in the business world and proficient with all of it.”
She smiled softly. “Charlie hates computers. He won’t have anything to do with them. Pixie, his wife, has tried to get him into the twenty-first century, but he’s stubborn as the proverbial mule.”
Reese smiled a little more and pushed the cup slowly back and forth between his hands. “He’s happy that way and it works for him. At least no one is hacking in and stealing his intel.”
“You got that right,” she agreed. Shay tucked her lower lip, worrying it for a moment, studying the table. Lifting her head, she said, “I’m not good with math or accounting. And I’ve been hoping to meet a vet who has that kind of background. Would it bother you to take a look at the ranch books? You could work part-time in the office and the rest of it on the indoor arena.”
Reese considered her request. “Sure, I’d be happy to support you with my skills in any way I can.”
She saw hope burning in his eyes and Shay didn’t want to leave him hanging. “I’d like to hire you, Mr. Lockhart. I think you’ll fit in fine with the men who are already there. And I think you’ll like all of them because they’re hardworking, they care, and they’re responsible. None of them are addicted to drugs or alcohol. And I’m hoping you don’t have those issues either.”
His mouth quirked. “No. Thought about it often enough, but it’s not my way of dealing with life. We all get thrown curves. It’s how we respond to them that counts. I’m clean.”
“I like your attitude.”
Julie, the waitress, came over with Shay’s lunch, a grilled cheese sandwich and French fries. Shay thanked her. The look in Reese’s eyes, now filled with hope and something else she couldn’t translate, made her happy. Anytime she could help one of these vets, it was a personal high for her. Oh, she knew there would be a period of adjustment for Noah, Harper, and Garret, but they were vets and team minded. Reese seemed quiet, steady, and for sure was a keen observer and listened well. All things that Shay knew would help this man, who was so terribly gaunt, get a hand up and get his life in his control once more.
“Would you like to share the French fries?” she asked, pushing the plate to the center of the table. Vets were proud. They hated handouts. Shay knew they’d rather starve than ask for food. She saw some ruddiness come to his cheeks.
“Charlie fed me earlier. But thanks.”
Nodding, Shay liked his ability to be honest. Maybe his pride didn’t run him completely. And if it didn’t, that was a good sign that he wanted to heal. “Charlie’s a good person. Did you know he was in the Marine Corps for four years? From eighteen to twenty-two. Then he came out of his enlistment and worked with his father at the hay and feed store. Eventually, when his father retired, Charlie took over the operation.”
“That explains why he took me under his wing,” Reese noted wryly, lifting the cup to his lips.
She grinned. “Yeah, he’s a mother hen in disguise. He’s got a heart of gold. He couldn’t contain his excitement when he told me you were a Marine. After my father had that stroke and Charlie found out I was converting the ranch to help homeless vets, he offered me a forty-percent discount on everything at his store. The guy makes not a dime off me as a result. Talk about taking care of your own. I love Charlie and Pixie.”
“He’s loyal and he cares,” Reese said, moving the cup slowly around between his hands.
“More than most,” Shay agreed somberly. “Civilians don’t get us. But you can’t expect that of them, either. They haven’t been in the military. They don’t understand our world or the pressures and stresses that are intrinsically part of it.”
“Why are you doing this?”
She stopped chewing for a moment, regarding his serious expression. She could feel Reese trying to understand her. Ordinarily, Shay retreated from such questions, but with him, with the sincerity he offered without apology, she swallowed. “It’s a calling. A passion.”