With WIND RIVER RANCHER Lindsay McKenna continues her Wind
River series that centers on a ranching community that has
concentrated efforts on helping returning Vets. Men and
women basically left floundering without any valuable
dependable resources. Many who suffer from mental,
emotions and physical issues after leaving the military.
It is an age old problem and since government seems to be
lacking somehow in its reach out program, well it's up to
the private citizen to pick up the slack.
Lindsay McKenna has a soft spot for these Vets but at the
same time acknowledges that they do not need or want
charity, they need opportunity to pick themselves up by
the proverbial boot strap and what better venue than
ranching.
WIND RIVER RANCHER centers on the fact that for many
returning servicemen and women it's as if they leave one
hell and return home to another. It amazes me how much
insight Lindsay McKenna has into the psyche and emotions
of these Vets. Many seem to enter the service to get away
from a less than gracious home life.
As Shay begins to face her problems dealing with her
abusive alcoholic father she recognizes her kinship with
some of the wranglers now working on her ranch. One of
Shay's issues is trying to handle her own problems, those
with her father, the ranch and her own PTSD. Any one of
these would bring a lesser person to their knees. But
although Shay doesn't acknowledge it, she is essentially
a very strong woman. The love, caring and trust she shares
with her wranglers is just the support she needs.
With Reese there's more at play. He has become Shay's calm
in the storm. Reese is beginning to hold a special place
in Shays life and the feeling is mutual. But these two
people firmly believe they are damaged. So sad, and yet
in WIND RIVER RANCHER Lindsay McKenna saves us the best
seat in the house as the drama unwinds and joy returns to
these fine men and woman.
When Shay and Reese look in their mirrors their reflection
isn't of a person of value, but what they see is not what
people around them see. The job is an awesome one for
Shay, Reese and their wranglers. They need to see their
worth, value and what they bring to the table.
WIND RIVER RANCHER is an amazing look at a very current
problem. Returning Vets need help. WIND RIVER RANCHER
shows what one community can accomplish. Lindsay McKenna
does not sugar coat any of the issues. But instead
brilliantly illustrates the unique talents returning
servicemen and woman have and how smart people employee
these trusted, intelligent and caring folks.
The new novel from the bestselling author of Wind
River WranglerSomething to hold on to . . .
Not so long ago, Reese Lockhart was commanding a company
of
Marines. Now his life is spiraling out of control. The
Bar C
ranch outside Jackson Hole, Wyoming may be his last
chance
to save himself . . .
Shaylene Crawford, an Afghanistan veteran herself, knows
all
too well the demons of PTSD—that’s why she’s determined
to
turn her family’s cattle ranch into a place where wounded
warriors can work, find a home, and rebuild their souls.
Her
embittered father nearly drank and gambled the place
away,
but with help from a small crew of vets—including the
newest
arrival, the quietly compelling Reese Lockhart—she
intends
to hold on to her dream. And when someone tries to
destroy
that dream, Reese will do whatever it takes to defend her
. . .
Excerpt
Reese Lockhart’s stomach was tight with hunger as he
stood at the outskirts of a small Wyoming town called
Wind River. The sign indicated a population of two
thousand.
He’d gone a month without decent food. Six inches
of snow stood on the sides of the road where he’d walked
the last ten miles on 89A north. It headed toward Jackson
Hole, where he was hoping to find work.
The town, for a Monday afternoon, was pretty slow. A
couple of pickup trucks came and went, a few people
walked along the sidewalks on either side of the highway
that ran through the center of town. He halted outside
Becker’s Hay and Feed Store, an aged redbrick building
standing two stories high. The red tin roof was steep and
sunlight reflected off it, making Reese squint. Bright
lights
now hurt his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, feeling the fear of rejection once
again, he pushed open the door to the store. Would he get
yelled at by the owner? Told to get out? It was early May
and snow had fallen the night before. The sleepy town of
Wind River still had slush on its streets midday.
The place was quiet, smelled of leather, and he saw a
man in his sixties, tall, lean, and with silver hair,
sitting
behind the counter. He was sitting on a wooden stool that
was probably the same age as he was, an ancient-looking
calculator in his work-worn hands as he methodically
punched the buttons.
Girding himself, ignoring the fact he hadn’t eaten in two
days, Reese’s gaze automatically swung around the huge
establishment. A hay and feed store was something he was
familiar with. Maybe the owner wanted some part-time
help. He needed to make enough money to buy a decent
meal.
Shoving away the shame he felt over his situation, he
saw the man lift his head, wire-rim spectacles halfway
down his large nose, his blue eyes squinting at Reese as
he
approached the long wooden counter.
“Howdy, stranger. Can I help you?” the man asked.
“Maybe,” Reese said. “I’m looking for work. I saw you
have several big barns out back, and a granary. Do you
have
any openings?” Automatically, Reese tensed. He knew he
looked rough with a month’s worth of beard on his face,
and his clothes were dirty and shabby. At one time, he’d
been a Marine Corps captain commanding a company of
120 Marines. And he’d been damn good at it until—
“I’m Charlie Becker, the owner,” the man said, shifting
and thrusting his hand across the desk toward him.
“Welcome to Wind River. Who might you be?”
“Reese Lockhart,” he said, and he gripped the man’s
strong hand. He liked Charlie’s large, watery eyes
because
he saw kindness in them. Reese was very good at assessing
people. He’d kept his Marines safe and helped them
through
their professional and personal ups and downs over the
years he commanded Mike Company in Afghanistan. Charlie
was close to six feet tall, lean like a rail, and wore a
white cowboy shirt and blue jeans. Reese sensed this
older
gentleman wouldn’t throw him out of here with a curse—
or even worse, call law enforcement and accuse him of
trespassing.
The last place where he’d tried to find some work, they’d
called him a druggie and told him to get the hell out; he
smelled. While walking the last ten miles to Wind River,
Reese had stopped when he discovered a stream on the
flat,
snow-covered land, and tried to clean up the best he
could.
The temperature was near freezing as he’d gone into the
bushes, away from the busy highway, and stripped to his
waist. He’d taken handfuls of snow and scrubbed his body,
shivering, but hell, that was a small price to pay to try
to not
smell so bad. He hadn’t had a real shower in a month,
either.
“You a vet, by any chance?” Charlie asked, his eyes
narrowing speculatively upon Reese.
“Yes, sir. Marine Corps.” He said it with pride.
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