A Soldier's Heart. Marta Perry

      “It’s taken care of,” she said shortly, crossing the grass to look at the flower bed his mother had planted along the porch.

      He glanced across the yard, feeling as if he were really seeing it for the first time in a long time. The old apple tree still stood in the corner. He’d had a swing hung from a low branch once, and then later a tree house that had probably damaged a limb or two.