The taxidermy ginger-furred fisher for which the bar was named looked down at Troy and Dietrich from its perch above the shelves of bottles of various alcoholic beverages as the two entered. Troy had been to this place more times than he could count. It was warm, inviting, and had the honor of being the first bar he visited after he moved to Douglas four years ago. The smell of smoke and fresh food was strong, and music from a radio could faintly be heard above the many conversations going on around them.

Troy noticed Dietrich acting a bit shy. He was clutching his right jacket sleeve and trying to make himself as small as possible, which was difficult considering he was among the tallest in the bar at the moment.

"You doing okay?" Troy asked.

"Just fine, Troy," Dietrich said.

Troy was tempted to question him, but stopped. He didn't want Dietrich running out or getting more upset, so he headed to the counter, taking his hat off in the process. Dietrich trailed close behind, still looking nervous.

When they sat down, Troy half-expected Dietrich to relax a little, but instead, Dietrich took on an expression that Troy had gotten familiar with during the war—a look of wariness and anticipation that something bad was going to happen. The only difference was that at no point was that expression directed at Troy.

The bartender, an older, well-built man with silver-tinged blond hair by the name of Nathanial Millikan, stepped over to where Troy and Dietrich were seated. "How's the ranch, Sam?" he asked.

"Going well," Troy replied. "Busy tonight?"

"Bit busier than usual, yeah." Nathanial gestured to Dietrich. "New ranch hand?"

"Uh… no. This is Hans Dietrich. He's visiting."

Nathanial held out his hand to Dietrich. "Pleasure to meet you."

Dietrich hesitated at first, then took Nathanial's hand. He was quick to pull his hand back to keep his wrist covered.

"Shy one, isn't he?" Nathanial turned back to Troy.

"Little bit." Troy noticed Dietrich's attention was now on the counter itself. He waited until Nathanial left to refill a customer's drink before whispering, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Please stop asking," Dietrich muttered.

"What's wrong? Seriously, I'm trying to help you, buddy."

"Nothing is wrong. I am not interested in small talk."

"Well, you don't have to say anything. I'll just say you don't speak English that good."

Dietrich glared at him. "My English is better than yours. For instance, you should say, 'I do not speak English that well.'"

Troy sighed. "You get my point, Dietrich."

"You do not have to say anything, especially since that is a lie on two fronts." Dietrich stopped talking and went back to studying the counter when Nathanial returned.

"I already know what you drink, Sam. What about your friend?" he said.

"Give him the same as mine," Troy said.

Dietrich gave him a look when Nathanial left again. "I am perfectly capable of ordering things for myself."

"If you're going to shut yourself out from everyone and not talk, then I'm going to step in."

Dietrich kept glaring at him until their drinks were brought out, then he turned to Nathanial. "May I enquire what your dinner specials are tonight?" he asked.

"Sure," Nathaniel replied with a smile. "We've got a beef brisket sandwich, fettucine alfredo made with prawns, and full racks of ribs with a choice of either homemade chips or fries."

"Pretty sure a good portion of the beef here comes from my ranch," Troy said.

"In that case, I will have the sandwich," Dietrich replied. "And a serving of your New England clam chowder. I was told it is the best around."

"Sure thing." Nathaniel finished writing down Dietrich's order. "What'll you have, Sam?"

"May as well have the same," Troy replied. "Thanks. Oh, and put Dietrich's order on my tab, please."

"Not a problem. I'll be right back."

Troy turned to Dietrich. "How's the beer?"

"It is… a little too crisp for my taste," Dietrich said. "I prefer something a bit more malty."

"Well, there are more malty beers here if you want. Like I said, don't worry about the bill. Eat as much as you want, drink whatever you want, just have fun and enjoy yourself, buddy."

Dietrich was starting to look a little more relaxed as the evening continued, but he didn't chime in much whenever Troy was engrossed in conversation with Nathaniel or anyone else. There were times when Troy briefly forgot Dietrich was even there due to how quiet he was. When their food arrived, Troy watched Dietrich immediately start eating. There was a part of Troy that was surprised there had been a time when Dietrich was refusing to eat save for saltines and a bit of bread. Hitch and Tully did a good job with him. I can't imagine how much of a challenge this would have been a year ago. Troy grinned to himself, feeling quite proud of his former jeep drivers. He was also proud of Dietrich, for having grown and changed so much in the last year.

"I'm really glad you decided to come, Dietrich," Troy said, trying to start conversation.

"No problem," Dietrich replied. "The food here is excellent."

"I meant coming here to Wyoming."

"Oh. That, too. No problem."

"I know we haven't done much, but it's been nice seeing you, especially since so much has changed in the last year." Troy thought for a moment. "You know, have you ever thought about… moving here?"

Dietrich turned to Troy, staring at him with his mouth full.

"It wouldn't be impossible."

Dietrich swallowed what was in his mouth. "Why would I want to move here?"

"To be closer. We could do stuff like this more often, you can have all the cinnamon rolls you can eat, I'll get Moffitt to come to the ranch and have him teach you how to ride a horse, and maybe I could even hire you."

"No."

"You didn't even think—"

"I said, no. If I wanted to leave Germany, I would have done so when I was released at the end of the war."

Troy sighed. "Okay."

"I apologize for disappointing you, but I also think it will be better for us to just visit every so often anyway. You do still drive me crazy sometimes."

"Yep, as evident in the fact that you went and cleaned my garage solely because it was driving you nuts."

Dietrich was quiet for a moment, looking more interested in his sandwich. He was nearly finished when he looked back at Troy. "That is not to say that my time here has not been enjoyable. There was once a time when I would not have even felt safe around you."

"Well, we did have to try and kill each other many years ago."

"Indeed."

"I'm glad things have changed, although it's funny because if the war hadn't happened, I highly doubt you and I would've met."

"I never could have been friends with someone like you."

"You don't think so?"

Dietrich grew quiet, looking deep in thought while taking a long drink from his pint glass. "Where do you think you would be if the war had not happened?"

Troy wasn't sure he wanted to answer that. "I wouldn't have met Moffitt, Hitch, Tully, or you. I wouldn't have met Shauna. I would've been… still slaving away on the farm under my mother's control. Or…" He bit his tongue, unwilling to say what he was thinking.

"Or what?"

Troy continued hesitating, but eventually sighed and said quietly, "Dead. I know… I don't give up. I say I don't give up. When I enlisted, I felt like I had something to fight for, a reason to just keep going."

"I thought you were saving up money to purchase land for your own ranch. You already had something to fight for."

"That dream was slowly beginning to whittle away by the time the war started. I was the only one believing in it, and when you have no one else backing you up and telling you that you can achieve it, it's more difficult to keep even the hope of achieving it alive. I started to doubt that I could do it, and there was no one to stop me from falling further and further into despair."

"How did you manage to pay for everything when you came home?"

"Moffitt and Hitch. They pooled some money when I told them I was working to get my own land, and then told me to go out and get whatever size plot I wanted."

"That must have come as a shock to you."

"It did. I nearly cried because I had been afraid that I was going to come back to Wyoming homeless, but because of them, I was going back with hope and excitement that I was actually going to achieve what I had been dreaming of for years." Troy smiled while reminiscing. "Moffitt even gave me a little extra money later on with a note that said, 'Get yourself a good horse on me,' and within about a week, I bought Alverstone. I once asked Moffitt and Hitch, 'What would you like as repayment for everything you gave me?' and they both told me that they wanted nothing. Everything they gave me was their repayment for me keeping them alive during the war."

"You really made an impression on them."

"I guess I did."

Dietrich suddenly looked distant. "Your men gave you the finances you needed to start your ranch. My men… those who are still living… have not spoken to me."

"Have you tried writing to them yourself?"

"I only know where a handful of them live, and I am a little afraid that it will not go well."

"You never know unless you try."

"True." Dietrich took another drink of his beer. "I might, but…" A somewhat embarrassed look came over his face. "I do not feel ready yet."

"That's okay. If you need help, just let any of us know."

"Thank you. I… I appreciate that."

Troy had gotten through one half of his sandwich before starting to feel full. In the corner of his eye, he saw that Dietrich had completely finished his sandwich, along with a small bowl of the clam chowder. "There's no way you have room for pretzels and honey dip."

"On the contrary. I have just enough room."

"Okay. I did say you can get however much you want." Troy asked to get the rest of his sandwich wrapped after Dietrich asked for a soft pretzel with one honey and one honey peanut butter dip. He glanced out one of the windows to see that it was still light out. We really should do something a little more active together. Maybe take a walk through the woods around the ranch. There are some mountain peaks around here.

Dietrich's eyes widened when a huge pretzel that took up the dinner plate it was on was placed in front of him. "I know you said they were big, Troy, but this is not what I was expecting."

"I can give some of it to me if you want. Or you can take some of it home. You don't have to eat it in one sitting."

Dietrich seemed to be seriously thinking about that, but said, "I will let you know."

About half of the ridiculously-sized pretzel was gone when Dietrich decided he had enough for the night. He looked over at Troy, who was finishing his second beer. "If you would like the rest of this, go ahead."

"Wrap it for tomorrow," Troy said. "I'm good. You ready to go home?"

"Yes. I might not even need breakfast tomorrow."

"Right." Troy grinned. "There's still one cinnamon roll left back at the house. If you're not up early enough, I'm having it."

"Is that a challenge?" Dietrich asked.

"I… guess?"

"I will take it as a challenge." Truthfully, Dietrich didn't care if Troy had the last cinnamon roll, but he was curious to see if Troy actually believed him.

They left the bar after Troy paid for everything. There was still a sliver of sunlight peeking above the western horizon, but the streetlights had already been turned on for the night when the two headed to Troy's truck. Crickets chirped incessantly, and the sound became muffled once the two shut the doors in the truck.

"So, no barfights," Troy said. "That's always a positive."

"Have you actually been in a barfight?" Dietrich asked.

"I've lost count of how many I've been in. Most were during the war. Usually, I was the one breaking them up, or I was the one getting hassled by someone who had a little too much. I was the instigator of one once." Troy looked a little embarrassed. "I had too much, started yelling at someone, and it got physical. Hitch broke it up, and he and Tully dragged me off to sober up in our tent. I don't know what was worse, though—the hangover, or Moffitt making me drink tea to help."

Dietrich laughed. "Oh, no, he made you drink tea? Oh, that is horrible, Troy!"

Troy rolled his eyes. "Moffitt doesn't add enough sugar to his tea. I told him that, and he went into a tirade claiming how there's a proper way to make a cup of tea and adding more sugar would ruin it."

"Troy, you ate unsweetened baking chocolate, and yet you are complaining about Moffitt's tea not being sweet enough."

Troy said nothing in response to that.

Dietrich kept smirking. "You will stand by your hatred of tea until the day you die."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I will."

"And yet you and Moffitt are the best of friends."

"We can get on each other's nerves, but there's no one else I'd rather have at my side in combat. Same with Hitch and Tully."

There would never not be a time where Dietrich was slightly jealous of how good a bond Troy had with his team. He didn't add anything to that conversation, and stared out the window at the darkened landscape as they headed back to the ranch.

It was nice to return to the peace and quiet of the ranch, preferable to how loud and crowded the bar was. Dietrich hoped that night would go better than the one before, and not involve getting up at two in the morning to help Troy having a nightmare and then getting yelled at by him. He would still help if it was necessary, though.

Neither of them were quite ready to go to bed yet, so they sat in the living room, not doing much of anything. Troy was on the couch with a newspaper in his lap, while Dietrich lounged in an armchair. It wasn't raining that night, making everything a little too quiet inside. In some ways, it was nice to just sit in silence, but Dietrich planned on going to bed if they couldn't find anything to talk about soon.

"Do I need another horse?" Troy asked aloud.

Dietrich looked at him. "I have no idea. Do you?"

"I need a voice of common sense."

"Oh, now you do?"

"Stop it. I really need your help. I've got three wonderful horses. They're all good workers. It never hurts to have an extra. Dietrich, just—" Troy held up the newspaper, showing Dietrich a picture of a dark-colored horse, "look at this Saddlebred. He's beautiful."

"Can you afford another horse?"

"No. I can try to bid within my budget at the auction he'll be available at this coming weekend, but I'm worried about going over."

"Then, no. You cannot have the horse."

Troy gave a disappointed sigh.

"You wanted me to be the voice of common sense."

"I know."

"Do you really, really need another horse right now? You have a wedding to plan for, and a ruby ring to pay for."

"That's true. Thanks, Dietrich."

"No problem."

Troy was quiet for a few more minutes, then made a disgusted sound. "When Shauna and I do get married, I hope she doesn't pick this frilly thing as her wedding gown." He held up the paper to show Dietrich, who was certainly in agreement that the dress in the advertisement he was seeing was by far one of the ugliest things he had ever seen.

"Shauna has good taste," Dietrich said. "I highly doubt she would want to wear that."

"She's got simple tastes. Like me."

"Are you going to wear a suit to your wedding?"

"Haven't decided. Might not even bother with a dress code."

"A wedding is a special occasion, Troy. You are supposed to dress formally."

"The only people coming are really close friends and David. I really don't give a damn how formal it's supposed to be, and neither does Shauna."

"Fine. It is your wedding after all."

Conversation died again. Of course, Troy was the one who spoke up. "Have you thought at all about being best man at the wedding?"

"No," Dietrich said. "I still think you should ask Moffitt, Hitch, or Tully. Better yet, ask David. Ask someone who is not me."

"Why?"

Dietrich sighed. I should have expected that out of him. Lead-weighted frustration settled on his shoulders. He couldn't even explain why he was frustrated. "Because what have I done for you? Your team, and your own brother, have done far more for you than I could ever hope to. You were just telling me in the bar that Moffitt and Hitch gave you money to start your ranch. Ask one of them."

Much to Dietrich's surprise, Troy dropped the subject.

When it became obvious that they had run out of things to say for the night, the two went to bed. Dietrich was glad to finally be completely alone in the guest bedroom. That day had been a long one, and he hoped his sleep would be restful, but he wasn't counting on it. He lay awake after turning the bedside table lamp off, staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted, but couldn't fall asleep.

Sleep refused to come over the next hour or so. Dietrich sat up in bed, rubbing his face and sighing. You want to sleep. Just go to sleep. Why are you unable to just fall asleep? He resisted an urge to give an irritable sigh when he heard Troy start snoring in the next room. Why can you not just fall asleep quickly like this fool can?!

Being unable to sleep and having to listen to Troy's snoring steadily drove Dietrich to give up on just lying in bed and hoping for sleep to eventually come. He left the room, and paused in the hallway to look at Troy's bedroom door. It was tempting to go in and make him stop snoring somehow, but Dietrich had a feeling that wouldn't end well. He went downstairs to make a cup of tea, then cursed to himself upon remembering that he was staying with Troy. The only tea in the house was black tea for Shauna. There were no herbal teas to be found.

Dietrich settled for warm milk mixed with honey, with a few generous spoonfuls of honey on its own for himself. It felt strange to be sitting at the table at night with no one else awake. In a way, it felt like he was back home in Germany, but there was somehow comfort in the fact that he wasn't completely alone. He knew he could bother Troy if he wanted to—obviously, he wasn't going to right that moment, but he knew that if his thoughts spiraled out of control, he could turn to Troy for help.

Turn to Troy for help. Dietrich shook his head, then took a drink from his glass. That was certainly a phrase he never would have thought he would be thinking several years ago.

He cleaned out the glass after finishing, then went back upstairs. Troy was still snoring away, and Dietrich decided he would put up with it no longer. With a heavy sigh, he entered Troy's room, finding him asleep in an awkward position. Part of Dietrich was concerned about waking Troy, but stopped caring when he told himself that he wasn't spending the rest of his trip dealing with this. He moved Troy into a less-awkward position, and adjusted his head until his breathing was quieter. "There. Stay that way," Dietrich grumbled. He left the room, hoping to finally get some sleep of his own.

Dietrich managed to sleep, but didn't feel as rested as he was hoping in the morning. He hoped that coming night would be better, but tried not to think too hard about it while getting dressed and going out into the hallway. Something sweet was being cooked, and he could hear Troy and Shauna talking downstairs. He headed down to the kitchen, finding Shauna making pancakes and Troy standing near her with a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Dietrich," Troy said. "You sleep okay?"

"Not particularly," Dietrich replied.

"Bad dreams?"

"No. Just… had a hard time falling asleep."

"You look like you had a rough night," Shauna said. "Sit. Breakfast will be ready in a minute."

Dietrich sat at the table, and Troy placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

"That'll help wake you up," Troy said. "And—" He opened the fridge and took out the last cinnamon roll. "You can have this."

"I thought you were going to have that if you were up before me," Dietrich said.

"Well, I'm choosing to let you have it. I don't want you starting the day in a bad mood."

"I would not be in a bad mood if you had it. You can have it."

"No, you take it."

Arguing with Troy is an exercise in futility. Besides, these are the best cinnamon rolls you have ever had. Just take it. Dietrich sighed. "Fine. Hand it over."

"Did you two have fun last night at Red Fisher?" Shauna asked.

"We did," Troy said.

"What did you think of it, Hans?"

"I would go back," Dietrich replied.

"There are a few other places we could go while you're here," Troy said. "We have an ice cream parlor, bakery—"

"There's more than just food, you know," Shauna cut in.

"Oh, I know. I was thinking last night that Dietrich and I can take a hike at some point."

"If you're going to do that, today's the best day to do so. There's bad weather on the way."

"How bad?"

"Thunderstorms. A few people are guessing that we might see a tornado form."

Troy paled. "In this area?"

"Yes, give or take a few miles."

Dietrich remembered his conversation with Troy last year about some of their more irrational fears. Tornadoes were Troy's fear, while spiders were Dietrich's.

"I wouldn't worry about it, though," Shauna continued.

"Okay." Troy still looked a bit nervous.

Dietrich put the last of the final cinnamon roll in his mouth. "Are any of those pancakes ready, Shauna?" he asked.

"There are four ready if you want them," Shauna replied.

"Make that three." Troy took one of the pancakes from the waiting stack, and folded it in half to eat it as-is.

"Sam, why?"

"Why what, sweetheart?"

"Pancakes are meant to be eaten with a fork and covered in maple syrup."

"Is there some kind of pancake law I'm violating?"

"No, but…" Shauna sighed. "Never mind."

"You are still marrying this man, right?" Dietrich asked.

"Yes, I am. Somehow."

"I love you, too, sweetheart." Troy kissed Shauna's cheek.

Shauna watched Dietrich take the remaining three pancakes, then looked at Troy while Dietrich poured a generous amount of maple syrup on them. "See? He knows how to eat pancakes normally."

Troy's response was to keep annoying Shauna while she continued making pancakes, which nearly got a spoonful of batter thrown at him. Dietrich sighed, rolled his eyes, and kept eating.

Fortunately, no batter was wasted. Troy stayed in the kitchen to help Shauna clean up while Dietrich got ready to head out for the hike Troy had been talking about. He wasn't sure he wanted to admit to Troy that he was looking forward to taking a walk. They really hadn't done much of anything together over the last few days, besides talk, go to a bar, and get chased by aggressively territorial beavers while fishing.

Troy had a place in mind a few miles southwest of Douglas. It wasn't nearly as flat, and there were a handful of decent hiking trails. It was also very remote. As they drove out to one of these trails, Dietrich asked, "Do a lot of people come out here?"

"Not particularly," Troy said. "Moffitt and I rode out here on horseback a few years ago. He loved it, especially since he brought Snowstripe. Arabians can really run when you let them, and that's what Moffitt did. After Snowstripe ran around like a lunatic for a bit, we headed up the trail."

"All this space must have been exciting for both of them."

"It was, so I told Moffitt to come back anytime. Anyway, the view from the tops of those peaks are amazing. They're not too difficult to get to." Troy sighed a little. "Maybe I should teach you how to ride while you're here, but… go to Moffitt. He's a lot more gentle, a lot more patient."

"You seem overly worried about teaching me, and I cannot understand why. You taught Shauna, right?"

"No, actually. She already knew from a previous job."

"Can I ask why it bothers you?"

"Because if something goes wrong, you could get seriously injured or killed."

"And yet, we are in a moving vehicle. If another vehicle, or a deer came along, and ran into this truck, we both could be seriously injured or killed."

Troy fell silent.

Dietrich grinned a little, shaking his head. "You are afraid of losing me."

"Is that… not something to be concerned about?"

"Of course it is, but guarding me and not letting me do anything that has a chance of being dangerous is not how we are going to make memories."

"That's a good point."

"Then why not teach me? Do you doubt your abilities that much?"

"I'm pretty sure you're well aware with the fact that I'm not patient. I don't want to say or do anything that'll ruin everything we've been building up together."

"Troy, you getting mad at me because I do something incorrect with a horse is not going to bother me in the slightest, because I had to deal with you when you hated my guts. You getting frustrated is nothing compared to that."

"I never hated you, Dietrich. I started feeling sorry for you when I started to figure out that there was something different about you compared to other German officers I'd gone up against. You were the exact opposite of guys like… like Beckmann. I could have hated you. I could've assumed you were just like him, but… you weren't, and you proved that over and over again."

Dietrich opened his mouth to respond, but Troy cut in.

"If you're going to bring up the stupid prophecy, don't. I started giving a damn about you before anyone knew about the prophecy."

"Even if we take the prophecy out of the equation, do you… ever wonder if this was meant to happen?"

"What, us being friends?"

"Yes."

Troy shrugged. "Never given anything like that much thought. It seems like all this just happened, and this is where we are now because of it."

"That could be so, but it also might not be. I know we discussed last night where we would be if the war never happened. At times, I wonder, even though we are two very different people, who came from very different backgrounds, different families, places, even countries, we still have a great deal in common. We were both essentially abandoned and cast out by our blood families. We both joined our nations' militaries as a means of getting out of bad situations. We both suffered throughout our lives, in ways that the other can understand. Perhaps we were brought together to help each other heal."

"Well, if what we went through was all part of how we would end up here, I'd say the man upstairs definitely has a sense of humor."

Dietrich grinned. "I said the same thing to Tully and Hitch when we were discussing the time that you all found me alone in my Kübelwagen after it broke down, in the middle of open desert, and I was suffering from heat exhaustion."

"You were extremely lucky we found you."

"Indeed I was."

Troy parked the truck near the base of one of the peaks. A well-worn path could be seen vanishing into the forest that covered the mountain. "You should see this place in winter," Troy said. "It's beautiful."

"I can imagine." Dietrich followed Troy to the path. "I take it we are the only ones out here right now?"

"Yep. I told Shauna where we're going, so if we don't return before sundown, she has to come find us."

"I was wondering if you had a plan in place if one of us gets hurt."

"That's the plan."

"Planning really is not one of your strong points."

"It depends on the day."

Dietrich sighed, reminding himself that they just had a conversation about being friends. Well, he needs someone to supervise him. Who better to do that than someone who had to put up with his nonsense in a war of all things? "Okay, Troy." Part of him was confident they wouldn't find themselves in trouble, but with Troy around, not finding trouble wasn't exactly a guarantee.

There were some sections of the path where the tree cover was so dense that the sunlight was filtered green through the leaves. The two hadn't said a word to each other since starting, and Dietrich was okay with that. The sounds of the wind and the birds were pleasant and calming. Even though the birdsong was different compared to what he heard back in Germany, he was reminded of home.

He was over five thousand miles away from home, in the middle of nowhere, with someone he used to fight with. Somehow, he was okay with that. As he had been thinking the previous night, he was at least not completely alone like he was back home, and he could bother Troy if he really needed to.

There were still things that he hadn't discussed with Troy yet, and now one of those things was a tiny little thought that was telling him maybe moving to Wyoming wasn't such a bad idea.