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his bookkeeping.
    â€œComing along, slowly,” Wade answered. And knowing he needed to make some small talk, he asked, “How’s business?”
    â€œDoing better,” Dan answered. “It used to be that most of my customers were tourists, and fishermen getting supplies. But I’m getting more locals these days. I’ve improved my produce section. I’m trying to give the Downtown Market a run for its money.”
    Wade smiled, feeling a little more at ease with the chitchat. “It’s nicer here. Way too crowded at the Downtown.”
    â€œThat’s what folks have been telling me,” Dan answered. “And speaking of that, I had a talk with your sister a while back.”
    Wade’s sense of dignity went on alert. He was Nora’s little brother, and she would go to great lengths to help him out. “Do I want to know what she said?”
    Dan laughed. “Well, she’s a little worried about you, I think. And I get it. I fought in Vietnam. I know what it’s like to come home from a war. Getting used to civilian life again is tough.”
    Wade shifted his weight uneasily. He wasn’t used to talking like this. Not to someone like Dan. Not to anyone, really, except lately to Nora and Todd. And Dr. Miller. “It’s kind of a challenge,” he admitted. “And starting up the ranch was a crazy idea. I’m learning pretty quickly that I’ve got a lot to learn.”
    Dan laughed. “Don’t worry. I almost bankrupted this business a few times when I first started out. There’s a big learning curve when you try something new.”
    Wade nodded. “Thanks for the sympathy.” But he didn’t really want more of it. It just didn’t sit well. Maybe it was just his pride talking, but now that he knew his mind didn’t work as well as it used to, pride was all he had left. “I’ll just get my groceries, then.”
    He started down the aisles, filling his basket with soups and pasta and other staples. And a baguette that, thankfully, he never mistook for an M60. Then he was back at the counter and Dan was ringing him up.
    Wade was just starting to feel relieved that they weren’t going to have any more personal conversations when Dan handed him his receipt and said, “You know, when I first got back from ’Nam, loud noises bugged me a lot. And crowds.” He sighed as if reliving the memory. “Honestly, pretty much everything bugged me. So if you want to come here early, before the store opens, and do your shopping like you did today, that’s no problem.”
    â€œThanks,” Wade muttered, touched and mortified by Dan’s kindness. Was his PTSD that obvious? Could everyone see it? He grabbed his bag. “I appreciate that.”
    â€œAnd if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here. I’ll probably understand. It’s an adjustment, Wade. Sometimes it helps to have someone who’s been through it on your side.”
    Wade squared his shoulders. He was an army ranger, dammit. Not some emotional ponytailed dude like Dan who wanted to talk about his feelings. “I’m doing good, Dan. I appreciate the offer, though, truly.” Raising his cup of coffee in a brief salute, Wade pushed through the door into the crisp morning air. He could do this. He could shop and ranch and overcome this PTSD thing on his own. He had to. He’d come home to Benson to resurrect the Hoffman ranch and make his family name stand for something much finer than it had before. And that wasn’t going to happen if he sat around telling sob stories with Dan Sanders at the Blue Water Mercantile.
    Â 

CHAPTER FIVE
    L ORI SCOWLED AS she turned into Wade’s driveway. Everything about him moving back to Marker Ranch felt unfair. Especially seeing Wade now. He was bent over, sanding the board he’d laid across a couple of sawhorses, his working arm muscles so defined she could see