He stared at the picture on his office wall. A shot Mamma had taken of the yard and outbuildings, the sun tickling the rolling hills of the west pasture. If he stood up and got close, he'd be able to make out a small strip of the woods.

"Duke?"

He'd ridden from those buildings over the pasture and through that woods to the river beyond. Ridden and run, strolled and driven. Often with a gaggle of cousins and friends in tow. In the summer, the riverbanks were cool under the shade of the oaks, sycamores and maples. Years of screwing around on the banks, from pirate battles to picnics with a few beers snuck into the cooler when Mamma and Jack weren't looking.

"Duke?"

Last time he was home, he'd taken the girls and met up with Willy and his family. Cold fried chicken and chickenfights in the shallows. Just through the woods.

"Duke, are you OK?"

Duke grunted so she'd stop asking. He didn't shift his gaze, although he knew it was rude to not look any of them in the eye. It was how he'd been raised; you look at someone when you're talking to them. Mamma brought him up with solid manners. All his aunts and Uncles had done the same for each and every one of them. We may not be rich, we may not be fancy…two things we have for sure- family and manners.

But no amount of good manners could make him meet her eye, or match the gaze of any of the soldiers in his office.

"Duke, what was that call? Is everything all right?"

Inadvertently, he looked down at his phone on the desktop. Simple. The new-fangled thing with a field of buttons was on his aide's desk. He'd tried it on his own, and hated being bothered with more than a call at a time. One time, he'd tried dialing out to Flint, only to be interrupted by an empty line. Every time he tried to call out, the same empty call interrupted. It was maddening, and he was all set to go out and grab Clutch by the collar when Thompson stuck his head in to ask why he was calling himself on his second line.

Duke hadn't even known he had two lines. He didn't want two lines. Thompson took over and engaged in telephone triage, funneling calls to him in the right order, neatly trimming away those he didn't even need to bother with and moving the most important ones to the front of the line. Like he'd done just now.

Duke stood and walked the few steps to the picture so he could get a closer look at the woods. He had to swallow a few times to find his voice. "We'll finish up after lunch, people."

He didn't expect the pause as people weighed his words. Such a simple order, he assumed it would be followed immediately and he would be left alone.

"After lunch." Still no movement. "Dismissed."

Chairs scraped against the floor and feet shuffled. He watched them file out through the door from the corner of his eye. Stalker pulled the door shut after him. The quiet click should have signaled his release, but Duke knew better. Four Joes had gone, but one had stayed behind.

Stubborn as a goddamn mule.

"After lunch, Scarlett. It can wait till then."

"I'm sure it can. Or even longer. What was that call? Was it Washington?"

He knew without looking that she was still sitting on his couch, and had her arms crossed over her chest. She did that when she dug in. Sat in a way that challenged anyone to try their hardest to shift her.

"Yes." He could just make out where the trees parted for the trail to slip into the woods.

"Are we going to have to ship a team out somewhere?"

"No." Duke's cousins had ambushed them once there, dropping from the branches of the big sycamore. Jeff near peed his pants, but Duke managed to wrestle all three cousins into submission before rubbing each of their noses into the mud left behind by spring storms. Boys.

"Wait…that was DC, right?" He'd managed to confuse her. It didn't happen often.

"Yes. That was DC." He wished she'd go to lunch.

"What do they want us to do?"

"It wasn't for us." Duke decided to trace the rolling hills of the pasture with a finger. "It was for me." He swallowed to keep himself on track. "Scarlett, go to lunch now."

He heard her rise and gather her notes from the low table. Muscles he didn't know he'd tightened relaxed in anticipation of solitude. The heels of her boots clacked over the linoleum tiles, and he glanced sidelong at the door to watch her leave. But her hand found his back instead of the doorknob.

"Duke, what's going on?" The soft voice purred in his ear, her fingers slid from one shoulder to the other and back.

He should have pulled away. He was supposed to discourage her. Instead he traced over the roof of the barn as her fingers traced his muscles. "Personal matter, Red. No worries. I'm going to be off base for a few days. I'll tell you the details after I figure them all out."

"What happened?" She stepped around to his right, hand sliding over one shoulder and down his arm. "Let me in, huh?"

Duke found himself blinking. "Yeah, nothing for you to be concerned about. They just…" He swallowed…"anyhow, they've found what's left of my cousin near Khe Sanh." He dropped his hand, having traced over every building and hill in the frame. "He's being shipped home next week." He felt her fingers slide up to his bicep. "I want to be there when the casket gets…" He stopped.

She stood with him. It must have been over a minute, but Scarlett stood, holding onto his arm as he gathered himself.

"…I want to be there when he comes home."