Dietrich managed to fall asleep, but was rudely awakened by the morning sunlight cutting through the clouds and trees and flashing in his eyes. The truck was still moving, and Dietrich wondered if Troy had stopped at all, or if he had simply kept driving through the night.

"Good morning," Troy said. "How are you, sleepyhead?"

"Ask me again in about ten minutes," Dietrich muttered.

"You can go back to sleep if you want. I can keep going."

"Troy, by now, you have gone twenty-four hours without sleep. You need to stop."

"I'm not tired, though."

You know, dealing with Troy is good practice for if you ever have a toddler in the future, Hans. "I do not care, you need to sleep."

"Dietrich, I can keep going."

"No! You will get us into an accident. Pull over and let me drive."

"You can't drive. You need coffee first."

"Fine, then we should find a diner or something so we can have breakfast and coffee, and then I will drive, and you can get some sleep."

"Once I have coffee, I won't be able to sleep."

Dietrich figured that was a fair point. "Fine, Troy. Just… find a diner."

"I will. Don't need you getting grouchy."

"Too late." Dietrich sat up and rubbed his face. His head still felt weighed down by sleep, but he still tried reaching into the back seat to get the box of donuts. Well, the box of one donut left, as he recalled from the previous morning.

Troy gave him a nervous look. "Don't you want to save room for breakfast?"

His tone was… a bit suspicious. "I have been having donuts before breakfast for the last few days. Why is it an issue now?" Dietrich picked up the box. It was oddly light. "Wait a minute—" He opened it, and found it was empty. "Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"Where did the last donut go?"

"Nowhere."

"You ate it at some point during the night."

"No…"

"Well, what else could have happened to it? Did another bear try to break into the truck? I am sure that would have woken me up." Dietrich glared at Troy. "You also have the most guilty expression I have ever seen on your face. I did not think it was even possible for you to look so guilty. Admit it—you ate the last donut."

"Maybe."

"Troy, you are the worst liar I have ever met. It is written all over your face."

Troy was quiet for a moment. "Okay. Are you going to strangle me?"

"If I did not have to bring you home to Shauna, I might, but, no. I will do this instead." Dietrich plucked Troy's hat from his head, and placed it on his own. "Simply because it annoys you."

"Okay, now I'm concerned the witch came back and swapped our personalities again. Actually, no, it was a witch that took your—"

"The case is closed, Troy. You ate the donut."

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry for taking the donut. Please, give me the hat back."

"No."

"Dietrich, I said 'please.'"

"No. You can have it back soon. Just not now."

"It's my hat, Dietrich, give it—"

"Deer!" Dietrich shouted.

"No, I'm the jackal in the stupid prophecy, remember?"

"Step on the brakes, you fool!"

Troy turned, and saw the white-tailed deer standing in the middle of the road. He swore before slamming on the brakes. The truck came to a stop not even a foot away from the deer, which stared aimlessly at the two men inside as it chewed the grass in its mouth.

Dietrich put his hand over his chest. "Once again, I think you have taken a few years off my life."

Troy took a moment to compose himself before letting out his breath. "I think my heart skipped about ten beats, too."

"I am definitely wide awake, though."

"Same here."

"No, you still need to sleep at some point."

"I will define 'at some point' to be 'tonight.'"

Dietrich sighed. "Whatever you say, Troy. Alright, how are we getting this deer off the road."

"Cover your ears."

"Why? What are you—"

The sound of Troy pressing and holding the truck horn shattered what little tranquility existed right then and there. Dietrich covered his ears before allowing his shock to take over. He stared at Troy while his short companion was still laying on the horn.

The deer, unlike Dietrich, was completely unfazed.

"Okay, seriously?" Troy released the horn, then started repeatedly honking the horn, over and over again, until the deer finally walked off.

Dietrich didn't uncover his ears until he was certain Troy wouldn't use that accursed horn anymore. "You know… a normal person… would have just tried to drive around the deer."

"You've known me for how long, Dietrich? Have I done anything normal in that time?"

"You make a fair point. Frankly, anyone who thinks you are normal should immediately check themselves into a mental hospital."

"And yet you have stuck around for far longer than anyone else I know that I could class as a friend."

"Because I somehow understand you. Somehow." Dietrich glanced at Troy as they finally started moving forward again. "Wait, I am the one friend you have who has been around the longest?"

"Yeah. Aside from Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully."

"You mean, no one could put up with you growing up?"

"Other than David, no."

Well, that is sad. "Can I ask why? I had no friends, either, but that was because I was very shy."

"I wasn't shy, but I didn't really fit in anywhere. I was too stupid to be part of the smart kids, too smart to be considered a loser, too nice to be a bully, too tough to actually be picked on. You name it, I didn't fit in."

"You were your own person, and at least you had a goal in life, and you were very successful at being an annoying commando."

"Is that a compliment?"

"…Yes?"

"Thanks."

"You are… welcome?" Dietrich sighed and rubbed his face. "Then I suppose I should consider it an… honor to be your longest-lasting friend. Even though you drive me crazy."

"Because I'm good at decluttering your head."

Dietrich laughed. "You? Good at decluttering—" He started laughing harder. "You, good at decluttering!"

"It's not that funny. Why're you laughing?"

"Because you are one of the messiest, most disorganized people I know! You cannot even keep your garage clean for more than a month! And yet—" Dietrich took a moment to breathe, "you are shockingly good at helping me keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control."

Troy was quiet for a moment, looking unsure of how to feel about what Dietrich said. Eventually, he shrugged, and said, "Yeah. I've gotten good at helping you deal with your depression. And now you're returning the favor. I think."

Dietrich frowned. "Am I not helping?"

"Well… it's… hard to say. I don't think there's much more you can do besides just being here and listening. Maybe you were right. Maybe I just needed to step away from everything for a bit. Maybe I'll feel better when I go home. Maybe I won't, and we'll be right back to square one."

Dietrich wasn't sure how to respond. "Troy… what do you want me to do? I know you just said you doubt there is anything more I can do aside from being here and listening to you, but if there is anything—anything—you want me to do, just say so."

Troy fell silent. He drew in a breath, and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting tears run down his face. When he looked at Dietrich, though, his crying turned to laughter. His laughing was intermixed with sobbing, and Dietrich began wondering if this was it—Troy had finally lost any semblance of sanity.

"Are you alright, Troy?" Dietrich asked.

"Yeah. It's just… I looked at you and saw you were still wearing my hat and I forgot how weird it looks on you."

"Oh. I thought you finally lost the last of your marbles." Dietrich took the hat off. "Why are you crying in the first place?"

"I don't know!"

"Are you tired? I think you will feel better with some sleep."

Troy slowly brought the truck to a stop, and put his head on the steering wheel.

Dietrich got out and went around to the driver's side door. He opened it, and waited for Troy to get out as well, but instead, Troy remained in the seat. It looked like his exhaustion had finally caught up. With a heavy sigh, Dietrich helped him out, and walked him to the passenger side. "Sit. Get some sleep. Your head will clear up."

It was a bit surprising how quickly Troy fell asleep after Dietrich helped him sit and put his seatbelt on. I told him he needed to sleep. Would he listen to me? No. It took an outburst of crying and laughing to make him realize he needed to stop and rest. Dietrich got in the driver's seat. At least the sound of the truck running would drown out the sound of Troy's snoring.

Dietrich had driven by several towns—and roadside diners, despite his growling stomach—without stopping in order to let Troy sleep. He did have to stop in order to put gas in the truck. The gas station he found was by itself on the road, with no other businesses in sight. He looked at his watch while filling the tank. How is it one in the afternoon already? When he finished pumping the gas, he went into the station to pay, and grab some candy bars. I am looking forward to going home and getting back to three normal meals a day. He got back in the truck with his chocolate bars and returned to the road. He wasn't at all surprised that Troy hadn't woken up, and continued letting him sleep.

It was a relief to finally cross into Idaho a couple of hours later. We are almost there, Dietrich thought. And then we can go home, and get some proper sleep, better food… You are being selfish, Hans. This trip is about helping Troy. So far, not much helping has been done. Has it? Is this something I can have magic words for? I doubt it. He quietly sighed, letting his shoulders slump. A feeling of failure slowly began creeping into his mind. No, do not start thinking like that. It will just aggravate your depression.

It seemed strange that he had to be the strong one while Troy was the one who needed help. Dietrich wasn't used to having their usual roles reversed, especially since he was starting to feel like he was going in circles. Hitch and Tully felt like they were going in circles with me. They managed to break out of the loop by not focusing on my depression. They focused on letting me open up on my own, and actually trying to extend a hand of friendship. Why did I not bother trying to convince them to take care of Troy?

In some ways, Hitch and Tully still saw Troy as their superior. Tully had even said that Troy was more likely to open up to Dietrich than anyone else. During the war, Dietrich and Troy had seen each other as equals, despite their different ranks. After the war, they learned they had more in common than they previously assumed about each other. Troy still deeply valued Hitch and Tully, as well as Moffitt, but his friendship with Dietrich was different. The barriers that Troy had put up before didn't exist. It took a bit of work, but Troy stopped hiding, stopped trying to pretend nothing was wrong, or that his past wasn't a mess. Learning about who Troy really was changed Dietrich's view of him, but didn't change his shock at how well Troy had performed against him.

At least that was all behind them now.

They found a town to stop in not too long after crossing into Idaho. Troy was looking a bit more alert, while Dietrich was just glad to not be stuck in a vehicle for the rest of the night. He took care of getting them checked into a motel overlooking a narrow river. The view was nice, but they were stuck sharing a room with two beds, which Dietrich wasn't thrilled about.

After taking some time to freshen up, they ventured across the street to a small bar and restaurant. Dietrich decided not to drink any alcohol that night, as he had gone nearly the whole day without water. The air inside the building smelled heavily of smoke from food cooking and patrons' cigars and cigarettes. It was quite loud, with music playing and a group of people having a round of pool and darts in the next room.

"You seem to be feeling better after a nap," Dietrich said after he and Troy received their drinks.

"Little bit," Troy replied. "I'm sorry for breaking down on you."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I should also apologize for not being as helpful as I should be."

"I'm really not sure what else you can do now. I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens when we go home."

"Which will not be long. We will be in Washington tomorrow."

"I don't want to just stop for a few hours and leave. I was thinking maybe we stay for a couple of days."

"If that is what you want to do, we will do it."

"Thanks, Dietrich. Oh, don't worry about paying for everything here. I'll take care of it."

Dietrich eyed the pint glass of beer in front of Troy. "Are you sure you want to be drinking right now?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Your stomach is empty and you have not had water in well over a day. Alcohol is the last thing you need."

"Don't be a mother hen. I'll be fine. I have you."

"So, you do not want me to be a mother hen, but you think you will be fine because I am here… being a mother hen."

Troy thought for a moment, a look of confusion rapidly crossing his face.

"Try not to think too hard, Troy. I do not want you to hurt yourself."

Troy's confusion turned into grumpiness, and he took a long drink from his glass.

At least the motel is across the street. If he gets himself drunk, I can carry him back easily. Dietrich paused, suddenly feeling like he was going to regret thinking that. No, Hans, hope for the best. Troy can keep himself in check. Can he? I have no idea. With Troy, never assume that something will be easy. He will find a way to make it hard, even unintentionally.

"Hey, Dietrich?" Troy asked.

"What?"

"How come, in restaurants, they don't peel the damn tails off the shrimp?"

Dietrich shrugged. "I have no idea, but never get Moffitt started on that."

"It annoys him, too?"

"Very much so. I went with him and Vanora to a restaurant around last Christmas and he spent most of the night complaining about having to peel the shrimp himself."

"That must've been fun."

"To be fair, he had a point, but the fact that he would not quit his grumbling until he was finished peeling every single shrimp—and there were many—on his plate drove me and Vanora crazy."

Troy smirked. "The only thing worse than that is getting his tea wrong."

Dietrich sighed. "Yes. I do not need to be reminded of that. Look, I like a good cup of tea every now and then, but I will not tear someone's head off for getting it wrong."

"You take your honey-vanilla chamomile pretty seriously, though."

"Admittedly, yes, but I do not treat it like getting it wrong will anger some ancient tea god."

"Moffitt certainly acts like an angry ancient tea god when someone botches a cup of tea."

"You know what? He does."

"See, spending time with Moffitt can be fun, but spending time with Tully is better. He's laid-back, he doesn't get mad if someone screws up making iced tea or fried chicken. He just gently corrects you and shows you the right way to do it."

"He told me he gave up with you, though, because you are such a disaster in the kitchen that no amount of instruction can save you."

"I'm not that bad of a cook."

"Yes, you are. You cannot even pour a bowl of cereal without something going wrong."

"Okay, that's not true."

"I am not trying to be mean. I am serious when I say that you are a terrible cook."

"I can pour a cup of coffee. Does that count?"

"If you could not pour a cup of coffee, I would be extremely concerned."

"I thought you were already concerned about me."

"More concerned than I already am, and I have been concerned about you since we met."

"Aww, that far back?"

"Your lack of tactics and brainless charges into my convoys were the first thing that made me worried. Your odd compassion for me only added to my concern. I wondered what the absolute hell the Allies were thinking turning you loose on the battlefield. Then again, perhaps that was the best place to put you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I am also still surprised that despite being older than me by ten whole years, you have far more energy than I could ever hope to have."

"I never would've thought you were younger than me when we first met. I thought you were my age or older."

"Well, apparently not."

The conversation stopped when the two received their food. Troy decided to try another beer, while Dietrich kept getting refills of water. The sun had set completely by the time they finished. Dietrich picked up the menu to see what sort of desserts this restaurant served. He looked over his options several times before settling on a slice of chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting. He ordered his dessert, while Troy had another drink.

"Are you feeling alright, Troy?" Dietrich asked. "That is your third beer tonight."

"I'm good, Dietrich. Perfectly fine," Troy said.

"Is there anything you wish to discuss?"

"No. I'm okay."

I am starting to think you are not. "Alright. If you say so."

"I say so."

Dietrich wasn't expecting the slice of cake to take up almost the entire plate, but, not one to turn down a challenge, he started working his way through it. Troy downed half his third drink before putting his head on the table.

"Are you absolutely positive you are alright?" Dietrich asked.

"I said I am," Troy moaned.

"You look quite sad right now."

"I'm okay, Dietrich, I'm… okay. Just… yeah. Okay."

"I think you are a bit drunk, Troy. You should stop."

Troy was quiet for a moment, then said, "I've been a bad husband."

"No, you have not."

"Yes, I have. I ignored Shauna for the last few weeks. I just spent all my time working. I didn't bother doing anything with her. I just… ignored her."

"She still loves you."

"But do I love her? I dunno."

"Yes, you do."

"How do you know?"

Dietrich didn't think arguing with a drunk Troy would be any better than arguing with a sober Troy. "Because… I know."

"You psychic?"

"No, but I know you care deeply for Shauna. You got her that box of chocolates, remember?"

"I did?"

"Yes, Troy, you did."

"What good's that gonna do? It's not gonna do anything. I can't do anything right. I got my grandparents' farm sold. I made you want to end your own life. I can't have kids. I can't make Shauna happy. I can't make anyone happy."

"That is not true. You make a lot of people happy."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do."

"How do you know?"

Dietrich sighed. He is drunk. Do not take anything he says seriously. "Because I know, okay?"

"You know. Got it." Troy gave Dietrich a thumbs-up.

"Yes. I know."

Troy got himself into a slumped-over sitting position, took his glass, and managed to finish his drink. He looked down at the table, and continued to mutter about how much of a failure he was. "Not happy. Can't make anyone happy. Can't make… anything… anyone… happy. No more happy. Just…" He put his head down again.

Dietrich knew he wouldn't be able to have a proper conversation with Troy until morning. He kept eating his cake, watching Troy and making sure he didn't wander off.

"Dietrich?" Troy said.

"What?" Dietrich glanced at him.

"I want to go home."

Again, Dietrich told himself to not take anything Troy said seriously. He decided to stop three-quarters of the way through his cake, took care of payment, and helped Troy stand to take him across the street and back to the motel. He didn't leave without taking Troy's hat from the table and plopping it on his friend's head. "Come on. You need bed."

"No, I don't need bed," Troy moaned.

"Yes, you need bed, my friend."

Troy laughed a little. "Lookit that… Dietrich called me his friend. Big ol' tough Jerry Dietrich called me his friend." He couldn't quite stand on his own. Even with Dietrich trying to hold him up, Troy half-slumped to the sidewalk when they left the restaurant.

Dietrich grunted while trying to pull Troy back up. "You are heavy, damn it!"

"Me? I'm not the one who ate a big piece of cake and ten Snickers bars today."

"Correction, Troy, I did not finish my cake, and I only had two Snickers bars." Dietrich hoisted Troy up, then put his left arm around his shoulders.

"I can count."

"Yes," Dietrich sighed, "you can count."

"Thanks."

What normally would have been a one-minute walk turned into ten with Dietrich struggling to drag an unsteady, drunk Troy with him. He found himself glad that they had to share a room now, as that made it easier to keep an eye on Troy while he sobered up.

Dietrich breathed a sigh of relief when he dropped Troy on one of the beds. "Alright. Time for bed."

"It's not bedtime. It's—" Troy looked at the clock on the nightstand, "I dunno."

"It is bedtime." Dietrich took Troy's hat, set it on a hook by the door, and returned to take Troy's boots off. "Hopefully, your hangover will not be too terrible in the morning." He set the boots by the foot of the bed, then sat down to take his own off.

Troy was staring at him aimlessly the whole time. Eventually, he turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. "Where are we, Dietrich?"

"We are in Idaho."

"Why're we in Idaho? Where'd Wyoming go?"

"We are taking a trip to the Pacific."

"Why?"

"Because you are upset over the fact that you and Shauna have had no luck with having children. I offered to take you so you can get away from work for a little while."

"Okay."

Dietrich didn't want to leave Troy alone, but he figured two minutes wouldn't hurt so he could get changed into his nightclothes. He went into the bathroom, and found himself wanting to take a shower. He hadn't taken one in a couple of days, but he decided it would be best to wait until morning, or at least until Troy fell asleep.

After getting changed, Dietrich went back out into the bedroom. Troy was still staring upward, but he said, "Oh, you're back. Hi."

Dietrich sighed. "Hello, Troy. Go to sleep, please."

"It's not that easy to just fall asleep. Sleeping takes effort. A lotta effort."

Dietrich ignored him and got in the other bed. He decided to stay up until Troy fell asleep, so he got up to turn the television on, took the remote, and returned to bed. He wasn't looking for anything in particular to watch, and he hoped it would put Troy to sleep.

"Has anyone ever told you that every Western looks, feels, and sounds almost exactly the same?" Dietrich said.

Troy didn't respond.

Dietrich went back to flipping through channels. Why am I even bothering to try having a conversation with him while he is drunk? I must be more bored than I thought.

Nearly an hour passed, and Troy had finally fallen asleep. Dietrich muted the television, and went to take a quick shower. He felt better after his shower, and hoped it would help him sleep better. As he walked by Troy, Dietrich shut up his nagging conscience by pulling the covers up to Troy's head. He climbed back into his own bed, and resumed going through the television channels until he, too, fell asleep.

Dietrich woke up the next morning to find Troy sitting up in bed and wincing with a headache. Now the fun part begins. Dietrich stretched and popped some of his joints before sitting up. "Good morning, Troy."

"Dietrich, who broke into our room and whacked me over the head with a hammer?" Troy muttered.

"I believe you did, but instead of a hammer, it was three whole glasses of beer."

"Only three?"

"You had two of those on an empty stomach." Dietrich got out of bed, and went into the bathroom to fill a paper cup with water. "Drink this. You have had no water for nearly two days."

Much to Dietrich's surprise, Troy took the water without an argument. "Did I do anything I'm going to regret?"

"No. You were mumbling a lot of nonsense, though."

"What kind of nonsense?"

"Does it matter? It was nonsense."

"I still want to know, so I can apologize if I said anything hurtful to you."

"You were intoxicated, Troy, I would not have taken anything you said personally."

"Still."

Dietrich sighed. Troy is supposed to be the one with a headache, not me. "Fine. You were muttering about how you felt like a failure and a bad husband to Shauna. That is it."

"Oh." Troy looked down at his lap, and crushed the empty paper cup in his fist. "I wouldn't say that's completely… wrong. I do kinda feel like a failure, but I know I'm not hopeless. I guess… everything just came out in a jumbled, drunken mess."

"Trust me, you are not a failure. You have achieved more than I could ever hope to. Now, why would I say that when I became a military officer and you did not? Because you go into everything with a purpose and more determination than you can shake a fist at. I had no purpose other than to simply survive and try to ride out the wave of war. Afterward, you started your ranch, and twelve years on, you have been incredibly successful with it. What have I accomplished in that time? Not much."

"Okay, before you continue, Dietrich, don't. You had perfectly valid reasons for doing the things you did, and you have your own little set of problems."

"And so do you."

"My point is… I appreciate you trying to tell me I'm not a failure, but don't put yourself down in the process. We've worked really hard to pull you out of that habit."

"I know, but I am merely comparing—"

"Well, stop comparing. Good grief, Dietrich."

"Fine." Dietrich rubbed his face. "This trip was supposed to be about helping you, not me."

"I know. You're helping. That's what friends do."

Dietrich resisted the urge to complain about Troy not reusing the paper cup, and simply got up to retrieve another one. "I take it you are not ready to head out yet."

"One part of me feels like I'll be fine as long as you're driving, but another part of me feels like I'm going to throw up at the slightest movement."

"Until you start to feel less… volatile, we will stay here."

"Okay. Isn't there a coffeemaker in here? I think that'll help."

"I think an herbal tea might be a better option."

"Dietrich, you should know I don't drink tea."

Dietrich gave him a look. "Do you want me to summon the angry tea god? I am sure he will put down whatever he is doing right now to yell at you over drinking tea."

Troy looked at the clock. "You sure about that? Moffitt's probably still at work right now."

"I doubt he cares."

"You know, you're probably right, but, please don't. I'd like to get over the headache before listening to him yap about tea again."

Dietrich decided to have mercy on Troy, and didn't call Moffitt right that minute. It did occur to Dietrich that he hadn't called to update Moffitt on Troy's situation, unless Hitch or Tully had already done that. I should let him know, just in case.

He waited until Troy was taking a shower before picking up the phone and making a long-distance call to Britain. He tried the number for the University of Cambridge first, and used Moffitt's extension. Fortunately, Moffitt picked up, and although he sounded polite, there was a touch of thinly veiled annoyance in his greeting and asking who was calling.

"It is Dietrich calling, Moffitt. I hope I am not interrupting you."

"I'm on my way out the door to go home for the night," Moffitt said. "What do you want?"

"Has anyone spoken to you about Troy lately?"

"No. I called you and asked if you had heard from him last week. Why?"

"Well, I am calling to let you know that I am solving the problem. Mostly. I think."

"Mostly. You think. I'm not sure how to take that. What exactly is going on?"

"Over the last four years, Troy and Shauna have been trying to have children. Their efforts have not been going well, and it has Troy very upset."

"Oh." The annoyance quickly faded from Moffitt's voice. "I had no idea."

"He is doing somewhat better. I decided to take him on a road trip to clear his head."

"With Shauna?"

"No. It has just been me and Troy on the road together for the last few days."

"You and Troy alone? Are you… okay?"

"For the most part. Troy has had his uncooperative moments, but we have not tried to kill each other. I think we are past that."

"I would think you've been past that since the war ended."

"I would think so, too."

"Alright, so… you're just calling to let me know?"

"Yes. And to tell you that Troy has a hangover and will not drink tea."

"Dietrich, I gave up on trying to make Troy drink tea. It's not worth the risk to my blood pressure. Also, why does he have a hangover?"

"Because he had a little too much to drink last night."

"Oh, wonderful. I'll bet he was fun."

"He was amusing, to say the least." Dietrich glanced up when Troy left the bathroom. "Feel better?"

"Little bit," Troy said. "Who's on the phone?"

"Moffitt."

"I thought you said you weren't going to summon the angry tea god."

"'Angry tea god?'" Moffitt sounded confused. "Did I hear that correctly?"

"Yes, you did," Dietrich said.

There was silence for a second or two, then Moffitt sighed heavily. "Alright… clever." There was a quiet mutter of "idiot" before Moffitt continued with, "Although, you two are keeping me from enjoying teatime at home with my wife. Unless you have more to say, I'd like to get going."

"I have nothing more to say." Dietrich looked at Troy. "How about you?"

"No. Bye, Moffitt," Troy said.

"Troy, you owe me, Hitch, and Tully a phone call whenever you're ready. You had us all worried sick."

"I'll try to remember."

"I will remind him," Dietrich said. "No need to worry."

"Good. I appreciate that, Dietrich. Enjoy the rest of your trip."

"We will try." Dietrich waited until Moffitt hung up before setting the phone down. "I was serious when I said I will remind you to call everyone, but that can wait until we return to Wyoming."

"Well, the sooner we get to the Pacific, the sooner we can get back to Wyoming," Troy said. "I'm willing to get going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I don't want to sit around here all day."

On one hand, that attitude seemed to suggest Troy was feeling better. On the other, Dietrich began praying that he would have the skill, speed, and dexterity to pull over and help Troy before he threw up in the truck. "Alright. Let me freshen up, and we will head out."