Michael McGarrity - Nothing But Trouble

Kerney entered the canyon that led to his house, saw that the exterior lights under the portal were on, and didn’t know what to make of it. Either he was being burglarized or an unknown person had decided to take up residence in his absence. He killed the truck headlights, popped open the glove box, grabbed his off-duty handgun, stuck it in his waistband, and glanced at the useless cell phone. A few miles outside Virden the battery had stopped functioning and wouldn’t hold a charge.

He left the truck at the top of the hill just out of sight of his house and moved toward his police cruiser in a crouch, scanning the living room windows for any sign of activity. He cleared the inside of the sedan parked next to his unit before popping the trunk and removing his department-issued shotgun. With his eyes fixed on the house he quietly unlocked the door to his unit, dropped down for cover, put the key in the ignition, called dispatch, and reported a possible burglary in progress at his location.

“That’s your wife, Chief,” the dispatcher said, repressing a laugh. “She’s been trying to reach you to let you know she’s home.”

“You’re sure of that?” Kerney asked.

“Ten-four, Chief. I took the call from Colonel Brannon myself.” Kerney thanked the dispatcher, locked the shotgun and sidearm in his unit, and took a closer look inside the sedan. On the backseat was Patrick’s dog-eared copy of Pablito the Pony. Inside the house he found Sara in the master bath, dressed in her nightie, brushing her teeth.

“Where have you been?” she asked, her mouth full of toothpaste. She rinsed out and gave him a steely-eyed, exasperated look. “I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”

“My cell phone gave out,” Kerney replied, “and I had a late start coming home.”

Sara shook her head. “Well, if you weren’t so obsessively punctual all the time, I never would have worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?” Kerney asked, stroking her shoulder.

“More than I’d like to admit,” Sara said as she wrapped her arms around Kerney and gave him a kiss. “Did you have fun?”

Kerney nodded. “The world of filmmaking is zany but highly entertaining. What brings you home so unexpectedly?”

“I’m off in the morning on a special assignment. Patrick is yours for the duration.”

Kerney’s expression turned slightly befuddled. “I don’t have a sitter. I’m not prepared for this.”

Sara smiled sweetly. “There really isn’t an alternative, so you’ll have to work it out.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“A week,” Sara replied. “But since I’ll be starting leave so soon after I get back, Patrick might as well stay with you until then.”

“You could have given me some warning,” Kerney said, sounding a bit apprehensive.

Sara slipped past him into the bedroom. “I tried. I called here and called your office Thursday night and again on Friday morning, and I couldn’t get through to you on your cell phone over the weekend to leave a message because the calls kept getting dropped.”

“Cell phone reception in the Bootheel seems to be spotty at best. The film crew were all annoyed about it.”

“Or maybe you had the phone turned off for some reason you’d rather not tell me about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sara shrugged and set the alarm clock. “Nothing. Chalk it up to my overactive imagination. I’m just glad you’re home and safe. I was worried about you.”

“What kind of special assignment are you on?” Kerney asked.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not really. It’s more along the lines of challenging.” She fluffed her pillow, pulled back the duvet, and climbed into bed. “I’m up and out of here in five hours. Patrick will need his breakfast. He’s recently become fond of blueberry pancakes.”

“Blueberry pancakes,” Kerney repeated as he leaned down and gave Sara a kiss. “Every day?”

Sara shook her head and yawned. “Vary the menu, but no fast food.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kerney gave her another kiss, turned out the bedroom lights, closed the door, and tiptoed into Patrick’s room.

His son slept soundly with the blanket kicked down below his knees and his stuffed pony snug under an arm.

He pulled the blanket up to Patrick’s chest and whispered, “I guess we’ll have to learn how to bach it for a while, sport.”

Sara woke at five in the morning to find Kerney’s side of the bed empty. As she moisturized her face, put on a touch of eye shadow, and dressed, she could hear him rattling around in the kitchen. She made the bed, checked her travel bag, and joined him.

“There are no blueberries in the house,” Kerney said with an apologetic smile. He handed her a mug of coffee and went back to mixing batter in a bowl. “Patrick will have to settle for apple pancakes.”

Sara held the warm mug in her hands and took a sip. “That will do nicely.”

“Will you be able to stay in touch?”

“I’ll try.” She looked out the French doors that led to the pergola-covered patio. Impending daybreak brightened a cloudless sky and in the gathering light the sweep of mountains behind Santa Fe slowly unveiled. Coming to the ranch always filled Sara with contentment. If she blew it on the Spalding case and was forced to take early retirement, at least she’d be able to live in a magical place with her family on a full-time basis.

The thought of having another child had been on her mind lately, and with her biological clock ticking it would be best to do it within the next year or two. She’d planned to raise the subject with Kerney after his retirement, but maybe she wouldn’t have to wait that long if the Spalding affair blew up in her face. Still, she found no comfort in the notion that her career might end before she achieved her professional goals.

“You’re very quiet this morning,” Kerney said, as he searched her face with his extraordinarily blue eyes. “Are the wheels turning?”

Sara sighed and smiled. “I’m having a hard time getting motivated for the day ahead. Have you thought about who can watch over Patrick?”

Kerney shook his head. “I’ll take him to work with me and call around to day-care and preschool centers. Can you tell me where you’re going?”

Sara reached out and squeezed Kerney’s hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t be in a war zone or anywhere near one.”

She put her coffee cup in the sink, got her luggage from the bedroom, and went to check on Patrick. He was just waking as she knelt at the side of his bed and told him once again that he’d be staying with Daddy for a while.

Sounding a tiny bit anxious, Patrick asked how long she’d be away. Sara spread her fingers wide and asked him to count with her to fourteen.

“That’s a lot,” Patrick said when they’d finished, looking none too happy.

Sara rubbed his head and kissed his cheek. “The time will go fast and before you know it, I’ll be home. Daddy’s making pancakes for you. If you stop acting like such a sleepyhead, you can go see the horses after breakfast.”

Patrick’s worried look vanished as he hopped out of bed and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Minutes later Sara drove away in the golden early-morning sunlight. In the canyon a small antelope herd browsed on sage near a shallow arroyo. A motionless buck, clearly identifiable by his lyre-shaped horns, watched as she drew near and then bounded away in alarm, causing the herd to bolt up a narrow draw. The sight of the animals in full flight, white rumps flashing above their long slender legs, was lovely to behold.

She headed for the highway with childhood memories of growing up on a Montana sheep ranch dancing in her head, thinking how wonderful it would be to raise her son in the country, never again live thousands of miles away from Kerney, and have a somewhat normal life.