He got in the rear seat with his backpack and strapped himself in. She looked over her shoulder at him. “How was school today, honey?”

  “We had a substitute.”

  “Was she fun?”

  “It was a man. I didn’t like him.”

  She eyed him in the rearview mirror. “Why do you say that?”

  “He made me sit with Danny.”

  “Isn’t he a nice boy?”

  “He calls me squirt.”

  His tear-filled voice brought out every savage maternal instinct to protect him. Praying for inspiration she said, “Do you want to know something?”

  “What?”

  “Your father was one of the shortest kids in his class when he was your age. By high school he was five feet ten.” The perfect size for Tracy. “That’ll happen to you, too. Do you think your father was a squirt?”

  “No,” he muttered.

  “Then forget what Danny said. When we go to Grandma’s house, she’ll show you lots of pictures to make you feel better.”

  Of course Johnny couldn’t forget. Silence filled the car for the rest of the drive home to their small rental house. She parked in front of the garage. While he scrambled out of the back, she retrieved the mail and they entered through the front door.

  Once inside, he raced for the kitchen. “Wash your hands before you eat anything!” He was always hungry for sweets after school.

  While her six-year-old grumbled and ran into the bathroom, Tracy went to the kitchen and poured him a glass of milk before she sorted through the mail, mostly ads and bills. Among the assortment she saw a handwritten envelope addressed to Mrs. Anthony Baretta. It had a Jackson, Wyoming, postmark.

  She didn’t know anyone in Wyoming. Her glance took in the return address. Lundgren’s Teton Valley Dude Ranch was printed inside the logo of a mountain peak.

  A dude ranch? She’d heard of them all her life, but she’d never been to one. Truth be told, she’d never traveled west of the Mississippi. Every trip had been to Florida, the East Coast, New York City, the Jersey Shore or Toronto. Tony had promised Johnny that when he got out of the service next year, they’d take a big driving trip west, all the way to Disneyland. Another pain shot through her.

  She took a deep breath, curious to know who would be writing to her from Wyoming. After slitting the envelope open, she pulled out the handwritten letter.

  Dear Mrs. Baretta,

  My name is Carson Lundgren. You don’t know me from Adam. I served as a marine in Afghanistan before I got out of the service.

  The word Afghanistan swam before her eyes. Tony. She closed them tightly to stop the tears and sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. Her husband had been gone eleven months, yet she knew she would always experience this crushing pain when she thought of him.

  “Mom? Can I have a peanut-butter cookie?” He’d drunk his milk.

  “How about string cheese or an apple instead?”

  “No-o,” he moaned.

  “Johnny—” she said in a firm voice.

  “Can I have some for dinner?”

  “If you eat everything else first.”

  “Okay.” She heard him rummage in the fridge for the cheese before he left the kitchen to watch his favorite afternoon cartoons.

  When he’d disappeared into the living room, she wiped her eyes and continued reading.

  Buck Summerhays and Ross Livingston, former marines, are in business with me on the Teton Valley Dude Ranch. We put our heads together and decided to contact the families of the fallen soldiers from our various units.

  Your courageous husband, Anthony Baretta, served our country with honor and distinction. Now, we’d like to honor him by offering you and your son John an all-expenses-paid, one-week vacation at the dude ranch anytime in June, July or August. We’ll pay for your airfare and any other travel expenses.

  Tracy’s eyes widened in total wonder.

  You’re welcome to contact your husband’s division commander. His office helped us obtain your address. If you’re interested and have questions, please phone our office at the number below. We’ve also listed our website. Visit it to see the brochure we’ve prepared. We’ll be happy to email you any additional information.

  Please know how anxious we are to give something back to you after Anthony’s great sacrifice.

  With warmest regards,

  Carson Lundgren

  His words made her throat swell with emotion. With the letter still open, she phoned the commander’s office and learned that the offer was completely legitimate. His assistant had nothing but praise for such a worthy cause and hoped she and her son would be able to take advantage of it.

  Tracy’s thoughts flew to her plans for the summer. When school was out, it was decided she and Johnny would spend six weeks in Cleveland with Tony’s parents. They saw Tony in their grandson and were living for a long visit. So was Tracy, who’d been orphaned at eighteen and had no other family.

  Luckily, she had June and the first half of July off from her job as technology facilitator for the Sandusky school district. Both she and Johnny needed a huge dose of family love, and they would get it. Grandma planned for them to stay in Tony’s old room with all his stuff. Johnny would adore that.

  The Barettas were a big Italian-American family with aunts, uncles and lots of cousins. Two of Johnny’s uncles were policemen and the other three were firefighters, like their father. Like Tony, before he’d joined the Marines to help pay for a college education.

  Their loving kindness had saved her life, and Johnny’s, when news of the tragedy had come. He needed that love and support more than ever. She wondered what his reaction would be when he heard what this new invitation was about.

  But before she did anything else, she called her sister-in-law Natalie to feel her out. When Tracy read her the letter, Natalie cried, “You’ve got to be kidding me! A dude ranch? Oh, my gosh, Tracy. You’ll have the time of your life. Ask Ruth. She went to one in Montana with my folks a few years ago. Remember?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “Yeah. It was a working ranch and they helped feed animals and went on trail rides and stuff. She got to help herd some cows.”

  “I don’t think this is that kind of a ranch, but I don’t know for sure. The thing is, Johnny’s been difficult for so long, I don’t think he’d even like the idea of it.”

  “If you want, I’ll tell Cory about it. I could have him call Johnny and tell him he’s thinks it would be super cool.”

  “That might work. Johnny loves Cory and usually goes along with anything his favorite cousin says.”

  “Cory will want to go with him. But seriously, Tracy, I can’t believe what a wonderful thing these ex-marines have decided to do. You hear a lot of talk about remembering our fallen heroes, but this is the first time I’ve heard of a group of soldiers doing something like this.”

  “I know. Believe me, I’m blown away by this letter. If Tony knew, he’d be so touched.” The tears came. She couldn’t stop them. “There’s just one problem. The folks are expecting Johnny and me to visit there as soon as school is out. Since my vacation is over in mid-July, I would have to make arrangements to do this trip before then.”

  “True.” Natalie’s voice trailed. “It will cut into the time you planned with Mom and Dad Baretta.”

  “Yes. You know how they’re looking forward to spending time with Johnny.”

  “Well, don’t say anything to them until you find out if he wants to go.”

  “You’re right. First things first. I’ll let you know what happens. Thanks for being there and being my best friend.”

  “Ditto to you. Ciao.”

  Deciding there was no time like the present to find out, Tracy picked up the letter and walked into the living room. Johnny was spread out on the floor with his turtle pillow-pet watching Tom and Jerry.

  “Honey, do you mind if I shut off the TV? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  He turned to look at her out of eyes as dark a brown as Tony’s. She picked up the remote and turned the set off before sitting down on the couch. “We just got an invitation in the mail to do something we’ve never done before. It was sent by some men who used to be marines, like your father.”

  That seemed to pique his interest enough to sit up cross-legged. “Are they going to have a party?” In his child’s world, an invitation meant a party. Since Tony’s death he’d shied away from them. He seemed to have lost his confidence. It killed her.

  “No. Let me read this to you.”

  He sat quietly until she’d finished. “What’s a dude ranch?”

  “It’s a place to go horseback riding and probably lots of other things.”

  Her son had never been on a horse. Neither had she. “You mean like a cowboy?” She nodded. “Where is it?”

  “In Wyoming.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “If you’re interested, I’ll show you on the computer.”

  “Okay.”

  He followed her into her bedroom where she had her laptop. In a second she’d brought up a map of the United States. “We live here, in Ohio.” She pointed to Cleveland. “Now, watch my finger. You have to cross Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and South Dakota to get to Wyoming, right here.”

  She could hear his mind working. “How long would we be gone?”

  “A week.”

  “That’s a long time.” His voice wobbled. “I don’t want to go.”

  Tracy had been afraid of that answer, but she understood. It meant leaving the only security he’d ever known. Going to stay with his aunt Natalie and play with his cousin Cory, or having an overnighter on the weekend with his grandparents, who only lived an hour away, was different.

  “We don’t have to. These men know your daddy died and they’d like to do something nice for you, but it’s your decision, Johnny. Before I turn off the computer, would you like to see some pictures Mr. Lundgren sent so you could see what it looks like?”

  He sighed. “I guess.”

  Tracy typed in the web address and clicked. Up popped a colored photograph of the Teton Mountain Range with a few pockets of snow. The scene was so spectacular she let out a slight gasp. In the bottom of the picture was the layout of the Teton Valley Dude Ranch surrounded by sage.

  A “whoa” from Johnny told her his attention had been captured. She read the description below the picture out loud.

  “The dude ranch is located along the legendary Snake River in the shadow of the magnificent Teton Mountain Range. It’s just five miles from the town of Jackson, a sophisticated mountain resort. Fifteen minutes away are world-class skiing areas.

  “This 1,700-acre ranch operates as a cattle ranch with its own elk and deer herds, eagles and bears. There’s fishing along the three miles of the Snake. At elevations from 6,200 to 7,300 feet, summers bring average temperatures of eighty degrees and low humidity.

  “Mountaineering, fly-fishing, white-water rafting, wildlife expeditions, horseback riding, photo safaris, hiking and camping trips, stargazing, bird watching, ballooning, a visit to the rodeo, are all included when you stay on the ranch. Among the amenities you’ll enjoy are a game room, a swimming pool, a babysitting service, laundry services and the use of a car for local transportation.”

  Johnny nudged her. “What’s white water?”

  She’d been deep in thought. “There’s a picture here of some people in a raft running the rapids. Take a look.”

  His eyes widened. “You mean we’d do that if we went there?”

  “If we wanted to.”

  He looked up at her. “When would we go?”

  So he was interested. She felt a sudden lift of her spirits. “How about as soon as school is out? After our trip is over, we’ll fly back to Cleveland and stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a month. Why don’t you think about it, and let me know tonight before you go to bed?”

  “Can I see the rest of the pictures?”

  “Sure. You know how to work the computer. While you do that, I’m going to start dinner.” With her fingers crossed, she got up from her swivel chair so he could sit and look at everything. He needed something to bring him out of his shell. Maybe a trip like this would help.

  A half hour later he came running into the kitchen where she’d made spaghetti. “Mom—you should see the elks. They have giant horns!”

  “You mean antlers.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

  She hunkered down and gave him a hug. “It’s pretty exciting stuff, huh.”

  He stared at her with a solemn expression. “Do you want to go?”

  Oh, my precious son. “If you do.”

  JUNE 7

  Jackson, Wyoming

  IT WAS LATE Friday afternoon when the small plane from Salt Lake City, Utah, started to make its descent. The pilot came on over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re about to land at the only commercial airport located inside a U.S. national park.”

  Johnny reached for Tracy’s hand.

  “We’re flying over the Greater Yellowstone region with forests, mountains, wilderness areas and lakes as far as the eye can see. Ahead is the majestic Teton Range. You’ll see the Snake River and the plains around it in a patchwork of colors.”

  Tracy found it all glorious beyond description, but when the Grand Teton came into view, knifing into the atmosphere, every passenger was struck dumb with awe.

  “If you’ll look below, we’re coming up on Jackson Hole.”

  Seeing it for the first time, Tracy could understand the reason for its name. It was a narrow valley surrounded by mountains and probably presented a challenge for the pilot to land safely. She clung to Johnny’s hand. Before long, their plane touched down on the tarmac and taxied to the gate.

  After it came to a stop, she unclasped their seat belts. “Are you all right, honey?”

  He nodded. “That was scary.”

  “I agree, but we’re here safe and sound now.” She reached for her purse above the seat. “Let’s go.”

  They followed the other eight passengers out the exit to the tiny terminal. The second they entered the one-story building, she heard a deep male voice call her name.

  Tracy looked to her left and saw a tall, lean cowboy in jeans and a Western shirt. With his hard-muscled physique, he stood out from everyone else around him. This was no actor from a Western movie set. From his well-worn black Stetson to his cowboy boots, everything about him shouted authentic.

  Johnny hugged her side. “Who’s that?” he whispered.

  The thirtyish-looking stranger must have heard him because he walked over and reached out to shake Johnny’s hand. “My name’s Carson Lundgren. I’m the man who sent your mom the letter inviting you to the ranch. You have to be John.” His eyes traveled over Tracy’s son with a compassion she could feel.

  He nodded.

  “Have you found your stomach yet, or is it still up in the air?” His question made Johnny laugh. He couldn’t have said anything to break the ice faster. “I’ll tell you a secret. When I was your age and my grandpa took me on my first plane ride around the Teton Valley, I didn’t find my stomach for a week, but you get used to it.”

  While her son was studying him in amazement, his hot blue gaze switched to Tracy. Her medium height meant she had to look up at him. He removed his hat, revealing a head of dark blond hair, attractively disheveled.

  “Mrs. Baretta, it’s a pleasure to meet you and your son.”

  “We’re excited to be here, Mr. Lundgren, and honored by the invitation. Please call us Johnny and Tracy.”

  “Terrific. You can call me Carson.” He coughed for a few seconds. “Forgive me. I do that quite often. Something I picked up overseas. It’s not contagious.”

  Johnny’s head tipped back to look at him. “You used to be a marine like my dad, huh?”

  “Yup. I have a picture of him and his buddies.” He pulled a wallet from his pocket. Inside was a small packet of photos. He handed one to Johnny. “I didn’t know him, because I’d just been transferred in from another detail when the picture was taken. But I learned Tony Baretta came from a long line of firefighters and had the reputation of being the toughest marine in the unit. You can keep it.”

  “Thanks.” His young voice trembled. “I loved him.”

  “Of course you did, just like I loved my grandpa.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “My parents were killed in a freak flood when I was a baby. My grandparents raised me. After my grandma died, it was just Grandpa and me.”

  “Didn’t you have cousins?”

  “Nope. How about you?”

  He looked at Tracy. “How many do I have, Mom?”

  “Let me think. Twenty-two-and-a-half at the present counting.”

  Carson’s brows lifted. “You’re lucky. I would have given anything for just one.”

  That sounded like a lonely statement. Tracy looked over Johnny’s shoulder while he studied the photograph. She counted a dozen soldiers in uniform. When she found Tony, her eyes glazed over.

  Johnny’s next remark surprised her because it wasn’t about his father. “You look different in a helmet.”

  “We were just a bunch of metal heads.” Johnny laughed again. “None of us liked them much, but the gear kept us protected.”

  “I like your cowboy hat better,” Johnny said before putting the picture in his pocket.