'I've been paid. I'll explain later.' Terry released him, and they shook hands. The leaves in the tall cottonwood trees rustled in the night air. Terry and Maria were saying goodbye to the last of their guests. From the edge of the plaza, Kerney turned back to look and saw Terry hug Maria and walk off into the darkness of the night, Maria left alone under the porch light. It gave him a sad feeling.
Back home, Kerney sat on the corral rail and studied the night sky. The stars were pinpoints of soft, quivering light. Quinn, his landlord, had decided to sell the ranch. It wouldn't take long for it to be gobbled up, probably to be subdivided into ranchettes by a developer. Except for two pieces of mail, there had been no contact with anybody involved in the investigation. Andy sent him a check for a month's pay and a note that said he liked the idea of using him on special cases and wanted to talk about it. The second envelope was from the Department of the Army. It contained a government warrant for twenty thousand dollars. The accompanying letter explained that it was for professional services provided to the provost marshal at White Sands Missile Range. Kerney put the money in the bank.
Soldier nudged Kerney's hand, looking for another treat. He scratched the horse's muzzle and looked across the volcanic rift at the clouds parked over Santa Fe. City lights created a rosy glow in the underbelly of the fluffy cumulus clouds. Since returning home, Kerney had taught Soldier how to turn and guide with the touch of a rein against his neck. Now he responded easily to a one handed cue. Soldier's gait had smoothed out and he wasn't skittish anymore. It was time to take him to his new home.
'So what are you going to do?' Dale Jennings asked, watching as Kerney opened the door to the horse trailer.
'Hell if I know,' Kerney replied. He walked Soldier out of the trailer and put him in the corral. Soldier trotted over to the bay.
'Move down here,' Dale suggested.
'I still need a partner. You can have the foreman's cottage.' Kerney gave Dale a sidelong glance.
'I guess not,' Dale noted.
'So what do you want to do?'
'Right now? How about a trail ride? Are you up for it?' Dale rolled his tongue over his teeth.
'Anyplace particular in mind?'
Kerney tilted his chin toward the mountains on the missile range.
'You're kidding.'
'Why not?' Dale put both arms on the top railing of the corral and studied the two horses. After a long pause he swung around, leaned against the corral, and grinned at Kerney.
'The bay could stand to shed a few pounds.'
Using an old horse trail. Dale and Kerney reached the 7-Bar-K in short order, even with Dale's frequent stops to reminisce. Kerney had to break him away from the sight of the space harbor and the test facilities dotting the basin; Dale was shaking his head in incredulity as he remounted.
'Looks smaller than I remember,' Dale said, as his eyes moved over the ranch house. He looked at the alkali flats to the north.
'Hard country,' he commented. He glanced at Big Mesa. 'And to think your folks had a fortune hidden up there, just waiting to be found.'
'Luck of the Irish,' Kerney said.
'Why did you want to come back?'
'I forgot something.' He left Dale holding the reins to the horses and went inside. When he came out he was holding the horseshoe from his first pony that he had nailed over his bedroom door when he was eight years old. *** 'How are you feeling. Sergeant?' Sara Brannon asked. She was in Eddie Tapia's new quarters on the base. His promotion, along with some string-pulling on Sara's part, qualified the Tapia family for a single-family dwelling. The house, a typical military box arrangement, had been transformed by Eddie's wife, Isabel, into a warm, comfortable home. Handmade curtains covered the windows and house plants filled the living room with splashes of color.
'I don't know how to thank you for all this,' Eddie replied with a grin.
'The plants are lovely,' Sara commented. 'It looks very nice.'
'Isabel keeps bringing stuff home from the nursery. She wants me to dig flower beds for her in the backyard as soon as I can use my hands again.' Sara nodded. The fingers on Eddie's hands were braced with splints, held in place by rubber bands attached to metal braces around his wrists. Pins were inserted in each broken knuckle to immobilize the joints. The appliances looked like weird pincers.
'Don't rush it,' Sara cautioned. Eddie grimaced.
'I don't have any choice.'
'Isabel tells me you're getting cranky.' Eddie nodded.
'Yeah, I guess I am. Sitting around the house is getting old. I asked for a desk job-anything-but the doctor won't even talk to me about light duty.'
'I've got a detail for you. We've been ordered to appear before the commanding general at fourteen hundred hours, in uniform.' Eddie immediately became worried.
'What's up, Captain?' Sara shrugged.
'I haven't the faintest idea.' Eddie looked chagrined.
'I can't dress myself, ma'am, and Isabel went to town with the baby. She won't be back in time to help me.'
'I have an MP standing by to assist you,' Sara said, looking at her wristwatch.
'Ma'am?' Eddie ventured.
'What is it. Sergeant?'
'Have you heard from Lieutenant Kerney?'
'No, I haven't,' Sara said flatly.
'Let's get you ready to see the general. We don't have much time.' Sara left Eddie with the MP and drove to the headquarters building. Tom Curry was waiting with Isabel and the baby. Both mother and child were dressed in new outfits. Excitement danced in Isabel's eyes. The general's aide, the public information officer, and the post photographer were assembled in the reception room.
A few minutes before fourteen hundred hours. Major General William Cunningham Tyson entered the room, greeted his guests, and looked at the two presentation cases arranged precisely in the center of a long conference table. At exactly two o'clock. Sergeant Eduardo Jesus Tapia was ushered into the room, escorted by a spit-and polish military policeman. The distress on his face vanished when he saw Isabel standing, with tear filled eyes and a proud smile, next to the commanding general.
'Sergeant Tapia,' General Tyson said, 'on behalf of the Secretary of the Army, it gives me great pleasure to award you the following decorations for exceptional service and meritorious achievement.' The aide read each citation, and Tyson pinned the medals on Eddie's chest. Eddie stood rigidly at attention, in a state of total disbelief. Captain Brannon smiled. Major Curry smiled. The general smiled. Isabel dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and smiled.
'Thank you, sir,' Eddie said huskily, grinning from ear to ear.
'I'd shake your hand. Sergeant,' Tyson replied, 'but I don't think that's a good idea. If I had my way, you'd be wearing a Purple Heart along with those decorations.'
'I didn't expect this, sir,' Eddie replied.
'There's more, son,' Tyson said.
'If you can stand it, the provost marshal has arranged a small party for you tonight. Several dozen of your closest friends will be at the NCO club.'
Tyson motioned to the photographer.
'Let's get a few more pictures over here, Specialist. And make sure you give prints to Mrs. Tapia.' The day after Eddie Tapia's party, Sara met for a briefing with a bird colonel from West Point, a military historian who had been sent to research the Big Mesa treasure. A portly, energetic man in his early fifties, the colonel had commandeered a warehouse inside a secure compound and was working out of a small office in the building. Military police were on twenty-four-hour guard duty to protect the treasure that was being sorted, catalogued, and examined by the colonel's team. Colonel Alverson sorted through some notes at his desk.
'It's really an accumulation of three distinct Apache raids. The documents and the coins, as you know, are from the 0.0. Howard expedition to treat with Cochise in the Dragoon Mountains of Arizona in 1872. It was
