Peace of Mind

Landon glanced at his phone. Nearly four-thirty. Where had the afternoon gone?

She hurriedly replaced the volume and met Jonas downstairs. "I have to go," he said. Grace was coming to cook dinner for them.

"Not taking anything with you?"Jonas asked.

"Not tonight. I'll be back on Monday."

Scout wagged his tail.

"Come on," he said. "It's just a short walk, and then Grace will cook dinner for us."

He talked to Scout all the way back home. He was a good listener.

"I'm going to see the town's bear tomorrow. What do you think?"

Scout barked.

"Yeah, I feel the same way."

Once in the cabin, he headed for the cold shower. He couldn't stop thinking about Grace. The attraction was growing stronger every time they met.

After the shower, he buried himself in work till Grace arrived. The text was taking shape. He just needed details of those first years, when Middletown was a dream in Fergus Carter's mind. He needed access to those journals if they actually existed.

CHAPTER 23

Landon took a deep breath before invading the dragon's lair. Before leaving he stooped down next to Scout.

"You have to stay at the cabin," he said. "I don't know if the old man likes dogs or not. I'll be back soon."

He thought about Fergus Carter, the Scottish settler with a vision, while he walked to his descendant's mansion's door.

He was dressed in the best he had: the black pants that were a little big and a navy blue shirt. He had even run a comb through his hair.

He had thought long and hard which was the best way to approach Marcus. He decided not to mention the journals. He would just say he was writing a short history of Middletown and he was interested in his input.

When he finally arrived, he knocked at the fancy doors. An old man greeted him.

"Good afternoon. Is Mr. Carter in?"

"Sure is," the old man said. "You must be the veteran living in one of Mr. Carter cabins."

"Guilty as charged," Landon said. "I'm Landon Petersen."

"I'll let his secretary know you're here. Mr. Carter has been expecting you."

"Thank you," he said a bit confused. How come the old man was expecting him?

A middle-aged woman walked across the room. "Who are you?" she said. No smile this time.

A gatekeeper, Landon thought. He'd had experience with that certain breed.

"Mr. Petersen to see Mr. Carter," he said.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but I think he is expecting me." As far as he knew he wasn't lying.

"May I ask what is the purpose of your visit?" the woman looked as if she was sucking on a lemon.

"It's a personal matter. I'm renting Mr. Carter's cabin."

"If there's a problem with the cabin you should address it to the real estate agent Grace McAllister. She'll handle any problem you might have."

"There is no problem with the cabin. I already told you it's a personal matter," somehow Landon managed to find a bit of his old commanding voice.

The woman gave him a long stare, then picked up her phone.

"A Landon Petersen would like to see you about a personal matter." Somehow she managed to make 'personal matter' sound as if she had said 'shit'.

After a pause, she nodded at Landon. "Mr. Carter will receive you now. You can go in."

Landon's stomach churned. He had managed this far. He hadn't allowed himself to think beyond each step. The first step was to walk to the mansion, the second to get inside. Then, manage to set a date to meet with the old man...

I can do it. He followed the woman to a solid wooden door. She opened it and invited him inside with a gesture of her hand.

Landon peered inside and saw a rather dignified, well-dressed, good-looking old man in his late sixties or early seventies sitting in a huge high-backed leather armchair.

"Landon Petersen, I presume."

"That's me. Nice to meet you, Mr. Carter. Thank you for receiving me," he said extending his hand. The old man shook it.

"You're living in my cabin down Fairwood Crest Road," Despite his age, Marcus' voice was deep and held an authoritative tone.

"Yes, Sir," he said, reverting to military protocol.

"People in town say you're a vet."

"Yes, Sir. I am"

"Were you in combat?"

"Yes, Sir, I was."

"Was?"

"I'm on medical leave. PTSD. I'm not sure about my future yet." Somehow Landon sensed it wasn't a good idea to lie to Marcus Carter.

"Why did you come to Middletown?"

It was direct and even a bit rude, but he'd expected that. He sensed that frankness was the best course with the old man. "My doctor recommended a program in Seattle. An army buddy lives here."

"Derek Hayes," Marcus stated. "No family?"

"Mother and two sisters. My father died when I was a kid."

"Why aren't you staying with them?"

"That wouldn't work for me."

Marcus studied him in silence. "Family can be a pain in the ass sometimes. What's wrong?"

"When I returned to my hometown from my last deployment, my fiancée broke off our engagement. I couldn't stand staying in town after that."

Marcus Carter's voice softened when he asked. "Was there another man?"

Landon shrugged. "I don't know and I never cared to find out. I had other things on my mind at that time. I still have. Truth was I was not the same man I was when I proposed to her. I don't blame her even when it hurt."

He was controlling his breathing to stay calm.

Marcus stared at Landon for what seemed an eternity. For whatever reason, Landon's story had turned Marcus in his favor.

"Sit down," he ordered.

Landon obeyed.

"What do you want from me?"

"I'm writing a short history of Middletown."

"Why?"

Again, Landon decided to be open and honest. "I need the money to pay the rent. This job is the first thing that has interested me in months. Writing and investigating keeps me busy and helps me not to dwell in the past. I like history, and the West has always fascinated me. I have a general knowledge of its history."

"They say it's to promote the town," Marcus said with a frown. "That pretentious Mayor Thompson and his delusions of grandeur. He wants to bring more people here. I don't. I like Middletown as it is."

"It can't stay as it is if everyone grows old and dies," Landon said. "You'll just have another ghost town here. I know what it's like when a town's young people feel it's necessary to leave to get a job."

"How do you know?"

"I come from a small coal-mining town in Wyoming. About the only choices were the mine or... leaving."

"We're not that bad," Marcus said with what Landon thought must be a rare smile.

"I would have liked to stay," he said, sensing an opening, "but I couldn't support myself. It's why I joined the army. It helped me to get a degree and a future I might otherwise not have."

Marcus stared at him. "What do you want to know?"

"I've visited the museum at the community center and looked through some of the newspapers dating back to 1855. I've heard some stories about the founding of this town. I would love to learn more about how it all started. And about your ancestor, Fergus Carter," he paused. "I could probably sit down now and write some pages about Middletown that would satisfy Mayor Thompson, but I want to do better than that. There is a lot of missing information. Fergus Carter deserves more than just a mention as the town's founder."

Marcus lifted an eyebrow. "You must know that the mayor and I don't exactly agree on the future of Middletown. You have nerve coming here." It actually sounded like a compliment.

"You have the information I need. Fergus was one of the first settlers in the state. His story deserves to be told." Landon sat straight up in the chair. "I want to know what made him come here, settle here, establish a town that exists today. It had to take courage and vision."

"I don't think Fergus thought anything that grand," Marcus said wryly.

"That's why he's so interesting. He's like so many other pioneers. They didn't know what they were creating. They just wanted something better for their families."

"I'm not sure that's true either," Marcus said with a gruff chuckle. "He was an unwilling pioneer. He came to America to save his irresponsible brother, Jamie, only to watch him die in a stupid accident. Fergus had to sever all his ties in Scotland and sold everything there. It was either settle here or go home penniless."

That was already more than Landon had known before. Maybe more than anyone knew. Excitement coursed through him.

Then Mr. Carter's phone rang. He glanced at the screen.

"I have to take this. We'll keep talking. I'll call you." Then he waved his hand in an obvious dismissal gesture.

Landon left, a sense of accomplishment lifting his steps.

CHAPTER 24

Landon woke up the next morning after a rare good night's sleep. The sun streamed through the window. Scout burrowed next to him and raised his head the instant he stirred.

Landon scratched the dog's ears. Why had he been so reluctant to own a dog?

He stretched out. Yesterday's meeting with Marcus had been good. A huge success.

"Okay, Scout," he said. "We should get moving. We have things to do today. First a shower," he added, as Scout's ears went up.

Landon was still surprised at the ease of his conversation with Marcus. After what had been hinted and said about him, he'd expected an ogre, but he had enjoyed his time with him, with his direct questions. He had suspected he was testing him, and somehow he had passed. In any event, he was looking forward to talking to him again.

He thought about writing out some questions for their second meeting but he decided against it immediately. He would have to wing it.

He padded to the kitchen to make coffee. It was still dawning outside, but in his mind, he was still raking through the events of the last day. He wrapped a blanket around himself and took the coffee to the porch. Mornings were cold, but he didn't want to stay within four walls where he felt trapped.

His thoughts went back to Grace. He wondered if she would be still sleeping or making breakfast. If she was awake she was probably restless. She never seemed to stay still.

He went inside and helped himself to another cup of coffee. Scout looked hopefully at the front door. "Shower first," Landon said, "then we'll take a walk to town." Scout's tail wagged eagerly.

They walked past the community center. Not open yet. There was no one in the town square either. A few vehicles were driving through town. There were some cars and trucks parked in front of city hall.

Landon walked by Grace's real estate office. The lights were off. He passed the church and stopped to read the historical marker in front: Founded by Fergus Carter, 1862.

He looked at the church. It was a pretty white building with a tall steeple and bell. The architecture was simple with clean lines. It did not look like 1862.

The doors were open and, on a whim, he decided to go inside. An older, nice-looking man approached him. He held out his hand. "I'm Reverend Joseph Sheppard, the pastor here. Welcome. What can I do for you?"

"Hello. I'm Landon Petersen. I'm staying in a cabin outside town."

"Ah, yes. You are Derek's army fellow. I've heard of you. We've been praying for your recovery."

"Thank you, Reverend. I'm writing a short history of Middletown and I wondered if you had any story about Fergus Carter to share. I saw the marker outside,"

The Reverend smiled. "This building isn't the one that he built. That one burned down in the forties. But this church was constructed on the same ground as the original, so we still claim him. I don't know any story about Fergus Carter, but I know Marcus Carter has Fergus Carter's Bible. I've been asking him to donate it to the church but he refuses so far. Maybe you could ask him to let you take a look at it."

"Thank you," Landon said making a mental note.

"You're invited to the services, of course," the Reverend said.

"Thank you, I am not much of a believer in organized religion."

"No matter your religion, faith, or belief you should take the time to look within yourself and discover what you believe in friendship, love, loyalty, honesty, respect... Those values shape the type of persons we are. Many of us spend a lot of time trying to understand what we believe, what we want, and who we are."

Landon just nodded his head. He had not attended a church service for a long time, but he liked the Reverend.

"I'll think about what you said, Reverend. Thank you for your time."

Landon and Scout left the church. A couple walked past him. They were holding hands and leaning against each other.

Landon had never had young love. He'd been too different in high school, too busy in college, and too careful in the service. Fraternization was frowned upon, and he was all business. Then he met Darla and thought he had found his soulmate. They dated, they fell in love. Or so he thought. Landon couldn't take Marcus Carter's words out of his mind. Had she cheated on him while he was away? If Darla truly loved him, why didn't she stick around and help him to get better like Grace and the rest were doing?

Scout bumped him and offered his paw. "You're right, Scout," he said. "There's no use looking back. It's time to look ahead."

CHAPTER 25

Scout raised his head, ears pricked, and he whined softly in the back of his throat.

A minute later Landon heard a car parking in front of the cabin. He checked his phone to make sure he hadn't missed any text or call from Grace. There were none.

Then, he heard the sound of footsteps, and someone knocked at his door.

He opened the wooden door only to find his ex-girlfriend, Darla, standing there.

He had tried so hard to clear memory of her from his mind after what she had done to him, walking out of his life and his heart... And now she was back?

Landon was having trouble believing this. Suddenly his chest tightened and his heart started pounding rapidly. Scout let out a low growl to the female visitor.

"Landon?" she said, interrupting his thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" was the first words that came out of his mouth.

His ex-fiancée winced at his words but recovered.

"I thought about calling you, but then decided maybe it would be better just to talk to you in person."

"How did you know I was here?"

"Your mother told me after I talked and apologized to her for what I did to you."

Landon shook his head. He had to talk with his mother about telling people about his whereabouts.

"We broke up..., no, you broke up with me, so I ask you again what are you doing here?"

She took a deep breath and said in a shaky and nervous voice, "I made a mistake, Landon. I'm so sorry. I should have never broken up with you. It was the worst mistake of my life. I was scared and confused. When you came back, you were not the man I knew and loved before you went to war. People who knew you could see the change in you. You were angry, moody, aggressive, and withdrawn. It was the opposite of your personality. I didn't break up with you because I didn't love you. I did it because I didn't know how to handle you."

Landon nodded slightly.

"I was sick. I still am. I was diagnosed with Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD for short," he stated. His mind still processing what was happening.

"What is that?"

"PTSD is when after a traumatic event, the person continuous relives the event. I have flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety disorder. I never blamed you for breaking up with me. I just had to move out of town and get some help. I knew I wasn't getting any support if I stayed there."

Darla gulped and paled.

"Would you mind if we keep talking inside?" Darla asked in a small voice. "It's kind of chilly out here."

Landon twisted his mouth, but said, "Come in. I don't have much time so you must be quick."

They sat at the kitchen table and Landon offered her something to drink.

Scout sat at Landon's feet, tongue hanging out. Landon scratched the dog's ears.

"Did you get a pet?"

"Scout it's not a pet. It's a service dog. I was paired with him. He is helping me to deal with my condition."

Darla took a sip of coffee and said, "I didn't know dogs could do that."

"You would be surprised what Scout can do for me," Landon said patting his head. "Much more than some humans."

An awkward silence fell over them.

"Landon. I want to help you. I bailed on you once before but I'm not doing it again."

"It might be a little late for that. When you broke up with me, I was crushed. I came home looking for support only to find new disappointments and frustrations. I isolated myself from friends and family and got depressed. I was fighting and barely overcoming the urge to be dead all the time. I started drinking a lot. More than I should to numb myself. I was sick even though tests told me nothing was physically wrong, I knew something wasn't right. Finally, I talked with Derek, do you remember him?"

Darla nodded.

"He told me he went through the same thing himself and told me exactly what I needed to do. So, I left town, I came here, and I've been working on myself since then."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you had already broken up with me and you didn't seem to care about me," he said with more anger than he'd meant. He sighed. "I was broken and you didn't seem to care if I died or not, you discarded me, threw me out of your life."

That memory came flooding back to his mind. Landon took a deep breath making an effort to relax. He kept petting Scout.

"It sounds like you do blame me for breaking up with you," Darla sniffed.

"I don't, but it doesn't mean that your decision didn't hurt me or made a bad situation worse. It did. I needed help and I found myself all alone. Rejected. I don't blame you, but I'm not happy with what you did to me either."

Darla bit down her lower lip, tears running down her cheeks.

"I have friends now. People who care for me," he said.

"Is there anyone else?"

Landon snorted, "I was wondering the same thing about you when you broke up with me, you know? My mind was too scrambled to deal with the answer to that question at that time."

"I never cheated on you, Landon," she said. He wasn't sure he believed her.

"To answer your question: no there is not anyone else. I can't handle being in a romantic relationship in my situation, but even if I would, I wouldn't go back with you."

He could see that hurt her.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't trust you won't bail on me again."

"That's not fair."

"Life is not fair, Darla. What you did to me was not fair. What happened to me was not fair. I'm still figuring out how to heal, and what to do with my life. The Landon you knew is gone and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be able to love the person I became."

"I can try."

"Try? You have no idea of what I have been going through. I need stability, security, and safety. I'm not the same man I was before, mentally speaking." He tapped his temple with two fingers. "I can't stand crowds, or loud noises, for example. They are all triggers that can make me feel like I'm reliving my trauma. I would be waiting for you to run away every time I had a flashback, or withdraw myself from the world, every time I experienced an overwhelming bout of extreme and unprovoked anger.... Did you think you could show up here, say you're sorry and we'd be together again as if nothing happened?"

Darla was openly crying now. For some reason, it made Landon even angrier.

"Are you planning to stay here then?" she sniffed.

"Yes, I have all I need for my recovery here in Middletown."

"How long?"

"I don't know. I'll take all the time I need to heal up properly."

"It doesn't matter to you that I still love you? I still want us to be together."

"Where was your love when I needed you? Where was your love when you broke up with me? Where was your love when you broke me even more with your harsh words about how much I had changed? Where was your darn love when I cried every single night cursing myself because I couldn't get a hold of what was happening to me?" He asked, standing up from the table.