Caitlin Ricci - Battle Born

By Caitlin Ricci

A Companion to the Robbie & Sam Series

Three years after running from Thornwood, Colorado, to join the Army, Daniel Messana is no closer to figuring out who he is or what he wants out of life. Now that hes home, his constant companions are loneliness, PTSD, and guilt over the way he mistreated one of his brothers and abandoned the other.

Franklin Cooper, or Coop, enlisted at eighteen and loved every minute he spent in the Armyuntil an IED in Afghanistan took his sight. Now hes home and, with his service dog by his side, ready to regain his independence. The trouble is no one will let him do anything for himself. Hes drowning beneath his familys oppressive love, and his only respite is the time hes allowed to spend at the on-base pizza place once a week. Thats where he meets Daniel, and those afternoons become even more special. But both men have a lot to work through before they can take the next step together.

Table of Contents

This one is for my dad. He was a disabled veteran with the Navy, and he loved everything about that life. Unfortunately, as it sometimes goes, I learned the most about my dad after his death, and though we never talked about those things we had most in common, I know we might have been closer if either of us had been brave enough to cross that line and be honest with each other. My dad suffered with what he thought was something wrong with him for his whole life, and I wish I could go back and help that broken, hurting part of him back before hed done so much damage to himself. Maybe then he might still be alive. So, Daddy, this one is for you. I miss you. I love you.

THE AUTHOR wishes to thank the people of the armed forces and their families for their sacrifices.

Daniel

THE EXCHANGE at Buckley Air Force Base usually seemed busy to me. Didnt matter what day of the week, or what time of day I was going there. People were always standing around, others shopped, and more than a few sat in the food court eating meals designed to be consumed quickly and with little thought to such indulgences as flavor. That wasnt to say the food was disgusting. Id had nasty meals in Afghanistan, food that could barely be considered as such but still counted for nutrition enough to meet my daily needs. Back stateside, and back in Colorado no less, food was supposed to be better. Id been dreaming about it for months. The kinds of burgers I would get the second I got off the plane and could have my own choice of food again had filled my thoughts for a long time.

But there was no food-related epiphany the moment I had a chocolate bar or sank my teeth into a bison burgerlike Id been salivating over as I lay in the sand with the blistering sun beating down on any patches of my exposed skin. It was only food, and I cared very little about it now that it had no real taste once I put it in my mouth.

I stood in the food court and chose to get pizza for lunch only because the line was the shortest. One slice of pizza richer, I turned to find a place to sit. Empty tables were an impossibility, and most of the full tables had at least three people sitting at them, all laughing together.

Interrupting people in the midst of their own joy wasnt something I could do at that moment, so instead I looked to a man likely no older than my own twenty-one as he sat alone at a table. Cliques were never something Id gotten used to, either in high school or in the Army, so I saw no reason not to sit with him.

Can I join you? I asked as I came up beside the cheap plastic chair directly to his right.

He didnt lift his head to look up at me. His sunglasses were so dark over his eyes, though, it was a wonder he could see anything at all behind them. Are you allergic to dogs?

What? The question was so strange, so completely out of place that Id practically snapped at him.

He seemed completely oblivious to my tone, though, as he explained. I have a service dog. Shes under the table.

I briefly crouched down to see this animal for myself and found a dog staring back at me that probably weighed nearly as much as the guy at the table did. I was close to 190, but he couldnt have been more than 140, if that. And she looked every ounce of it.

Coming back up, I nodded to him, then realized the handle attached to the harness on her back likely wasnt some piece of equipment that was just for show. Youre not wearing glasses just because its winter and the sun here combined with the snow makes people blind, are you?

He still didnt turn his head toward me, but he did smile a little, and I knew that if he were looking at me, the smile would have been for me. No. I havent been able to get snow-blind for about a year now. Lucky me.

So. Can I sit with you? I asked again. The grease from the slice of pizza was beginning to leak through the paper plate and onto my fingers.

He nodded, and I pulled out the chair next to him. The plastic creaked as I sat down and stretched out my legs a bit. I was so used to sitting perfectly, after years of serving that stretching out like this felt almost unnatural. But it was one of the things I reminded myself to do in order to distance myself from my former life. The combat uniform I still wore didnt help that, but I had jeans and shirts in my shopping bags from the exchange. I hoped the change would bring me back into civilian life. Whatever that was supposed to be for me now. The plastic bags rustled when I sat them down, and he turned slightly toward the sound.

Whatd you buy?

Civi clothes. Is the cheese pizza any better than the pepperoni?

He smiled slightly again, like he was keeping something back. That didnt bother me. Plenty of guys had their secrets, and I wasnt about to go around sharing mine anytime soon either. Every base Ive ever been on, they always had pizza, and its never been as good as I remembered it being before I joined. Even as he said it, he was going for another bite of his own slice of pizza.

I picked a piece of pepperoni off mine before eating some more of it. I was hungry, and this was food. Greasy, hot, and with lots of cheeseI would have probably loved it at some point in my past. But now, I wasnt sure. Whats your name?

Franklin Cooper. He made a face. I prefer Coop. And Oona is my service dog.

I nodded. To me his shortened name seemed to fit him much more, even after knowing him for all of five minutes. Daniel Messana, I introduced myself.

Dan? he offered.

I cringed. Dan was my dads name. No. I go by Daniel.

Coop kept eating, and I let a little of the tension Id been feeling since returning to the States last week drain away. People spoke all around us, most of them seemingly trying to outdo each others volume as they talked. I stared down at my pizza and tried to catch their words. Someone was hooking up with someone else. The sub sandwich was spicy. Werent those jeans she bought last week the cutest?

All mundane words, all perfectly safe. No mentions of bombs, snipers, or gunfire. I let myself relax a few more degrees from what had become my normal level of near-constant attention to everything that was going on around me.

Something fell on the floor. Something heavy, something loud, and my moment of peace was gone as I was once again back to the rigid life Id known for so long.

Did someone drop a book? Sounded like a book.

Coops question took me out of clearing houses in Afghanistan, the sounds of men walking in heavy boots and stomping up stairs all around me. The blowing sands left my mind, and I was inside again, in air-conditioning, even though it was winter and there was old snow on the ground because Colorado weather could never make up her damn mind. It was nearly seventy degrees outside today.

I looked toward the source of the sound and forced myself to take a normal breath. Then I breathed again as I followed a womans movements as she bent down to pick up something that was definitely a book, a college textbook even. I tilted my head a little to be able to read the spine.