The president laughed out loud. "I love it. This here's my trusty dog, Simile. He's tough as a Tennessee hickory nut, but gentle as baby powder. Carol will think that's very funny, too, especially since, unlike her husband, she's actually likely to know the difference between a simile and a metaphor. Hey, Griz."

A thick-necked, barrel-chested, balding Secret Service man wearing the obligatory black suit and reflective shades seemed to materialize from nowhere.

"You rang?"

"Griz, this is my old college roomie Gabe Singleton. Doctor Gabe Singleton. It's been five years or so since we last saw one another, but it seems like yesterday. Gabe, this here's Treat Griswold, my number-one protector and probably the number-two man in the whole Secret Service. Obsessive to a fault. Swears he's telling the truth when he says he'll take that proverbial bullet for me, but with that crooked smile and those beady little eyes of his, I just don't believe him."

"In that case, sir, you'll just have to wait and see," Griswold said, stopping just short of pulverizing the bones in Gabe's hand at the same time. "I'll be happy to get Condor settled in, Doctor. I used to muck out stables and ride warm-ups when I was a kid."

Gabe liked the Secret Service agent immediately.

"In that case you've come a long way," he said, handing over the reins. "Tack room's in the barn. Maybe we can go for a ride sometime."

"Maybe we can, sir," Griswold said. "Come on, Liberty, let's put this big ol' fellow to bed."

Stoddard took Gabe by the arm and led him to the back door. The house, seven rustic rooms that still had the feel of the cabin it was before some additions, was Gabe's cut from the end of his five-year marriage to Cynthia Townes, a bright, vivacious nurse from the hospital who loved him to pieces from day one to day last. Her mistake.

Cinnie's last words to him before she handed over her keys and took off for a teaching job in Cheyenne were to beg him to finish dealing with his past before he made any further attempts to build a future with anyone. For seven more years he had taken her at her word, and so had carefully avoided another in-depth connection. He might be done dealing with his past, but he had serious doubt it was ever going to be done dealing with him.

"Sorry I haven't gotten out here for so long," Stoddard said. "I used to really enjoy the evening rides and our fishing trips up into those mountains."

"The Laramies. There's no place on earth quite like them. But stow the apologies, matie. From what I've heard, you've had a few other things on your plate—like saving the world."

Stoddard grinned wistfully.