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Nothing But Trouble

Page 33

by Michael McGarrity


  “You served your purpose.”

  “Thanks for the kind words,” Kerney replied. “You’re a real piece of work, Fidel.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Kerney stepped around Fidel and opened the truck door. “Have you busted the smuggling ring?”

  “We have a plan in the works.”

  Kerney shook his head and got in the truck. “Another plan? Outstanding. I hope it succeeds. Did you come all the way from El Paso to tell me this?”

  “And to thank you for your cooperation.”

  “Check your dictionary, pal. I think you’ll find that cooperation means that people act together for a common purpose and with a common understanding.”

  “Whatever,” Fidel said.

  Kerney fired up the engine. “Gotta go.”

  “Steve Hazen said you have something to say to me.”

  Kerney laughed. “Forget it. You don’t strike me as a person who takes constructive criticism well.”

  The morning after their late-night drive home to the ranch, Kerney and Patrick spent time with the horses and did a few barn chores before heading to town to stock up on blueberries and other essential groceries his son had requested. At Patrick’s insistence they had macaroni and cheese with ham bits for dinner and then went for a ride on Hondo.

  Over the next several days they visited preschools and found one that Patrick really liked. The children were well behaved, the schedule was well organized, the teachers were kind and caring, and the activities consisted of a good mixture of cooperative play and cognitive-skill building. Convinced that Sara would approve, Kerney enrolled Patrick in the program, to start the day he went back to work.

  One night, while Patrick slept, Kerney got on the Internet and researched ponies. He wanted a surefooted, intelligent animal that had a calm disposition and was sound of body. He settled on the Welsh pony. At twelve to thirteen hands tall it was big enough to be ridden by an adult, yet small enough for a child.

  He surfed for breeders and eventually found one in northern New Mexico who had several animals for sale. A photograph of a six-year-old gelding caught his eye. It wasn’t a pinto like Pablito in Patrick’s favorite storybook, but it had four white stockings and a star on its forehead. That night Kerney called and made an appointment to see the animal the next day.

  Kerney said nothing about the pony when Patrick got up in the morning. When the chores were done, he hitched the horse trailer to the truck and they drove to the Mora Valley, where the breeder had her ranch. Patrick spotted the ponies in a pasture off the highway and started bouncing up and down in his car seat.

  “Look, Daddy!” he yelled. “Ponies. Lots of them.”

  “Maybe there’s one here for you,” Kerney said as he turned onto the ranch road.

  Patrick grinned and nodded his head.

  The six-year-old gelding was all Kerney hoped for and more. It had sturdy, strong legs, a deep chest, a broad forehead, and well-defined withers. After a thorough inspection of the animal Kerney reviewed the breeder’s studbook and veterinary records. Then he put Patrick on the pony’s back and watched as the woman trotted it around the corral by the halter. The pony had excellent balance and a smooth gait.

  Kerney bought it on the spot and got the woman to throw in a used child’s saddle and tack for an extra hundred dollars. He had to pry Patrick off the pony’s back in order to load it in the trailer.

  “What are you going to name your pony?” Kerney asked as they left the ranch.

  “Pablito,” Patrick said, grinning from ear to ear.

  Kerney rubbed his son’s head and laughed. “That’s a great name.”

  At home Kerney saddled Pablito and took digital pictures of Patrick astride his pony to send to Sara by e-mail. He knew the pictures would make her smile but also break her heart. A child’s first horse was a milestone not to be missed, a rite of passage every ranch family cherished and held firmly in memory.

  “Mommy should see me,” Patrick said.

  “You are wise beyond your years, sport,” Kerney said. He tied Pablito’s reins to the corral railing and saddled Hondo. Finally Kerney understood the ache Sara carried for all the events in Patrick’s life that he’d missed.

  “Mommy should be here,” Patrick said.

  “Yes, she should.” Kerney swung into the saddle and took Pablito’s reins. “And when she comes home, we’ll all go riding together.”

  “She can’t go away again,” Patrick said sternly.

  “Never again,” Kerney said as he reached out and opened the corral gate.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Michael McGarrity is the author of the Anthony Award-nominated Tularosa, as well as Mexican Hat, Serpent Gate, Hermit’s Peak, The Judas Judge, Under the Color of Law, The Big Gamble, Everyone Dies, and Slow Kill. A former deputy sheriff for Santa Fe County, he established the Sex Crimes Unit. He has also served as an instructor at the New Mexico Law Enforcement Academy and as an investigator for the New Mexico Public Defender’s Office. He lives in Santa Fe.

 

 

 


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