There is another serious problem I have seen in the world. Riches are sometimes hoarded to the harm of the saver, or they are put into risky investments that turn sour, and everything is lost. In the end, there is nothing left to pass on to one’s children.” –Ecclesiastes 5:13-14 (NLT)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
We were all enjoying a delicious breakfast at the diner. By “we”, I mean myself, Mateo, and Charlie Gold. Seldom are the three of us able to get together unless it is because of some crisis. Mateo had Emelda’s wonderful huevos rancheros of which I had an order of myself. It is always a hard decision, the huevos rancheros or biscuits and gravy of which the Sheriff was stuffing himself with.
“Careful, Charlie. Yuh better slow down some or you’ll be droppin’ a glob that gravy on your new shirt. I don’t think Marta would be pleased. I will say, however, that’s it’s nice to see you all dressed up.”
Mateo stopped his fork halfway to his mouth and grinned. “It’s ’cause he’s politicking. Election is comin’ up in a few weeks.”
I had been out of town and had plum forgotten that it was election time. I was just getting ready to remark on it when Doc Jones walked into the diner. “Well, sure hope there’s no crime taking place in town as the duly appointed law officers, and one elected one,” he said pointing to Charlie, “are all stuffing their bellies with food. And from what I’m seeing if there was a crime they would be so full that they’d have to waddle to the crime scene.”
“Doc, sit yourself down and quit your blabbering!” snapped Charlie. “We were listening to Miles. He’s got quite the decision to make.”
“Heard you were back in town,” quipped Doc, then he surveyed our plates. Shaking his head, he waved Lola over. “Dear, I’ll have a piece of pie–chocolate if you have any. If not, bring me any type of cream pie.”
“I’ll get the coffee for him, Lola. Go ahead and find something for Doc’s disposition to sweeten it up.”
I got a glare from him along with a grunted, “Bah.”
Standing I grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured Doc a cup of coffee, and then filled the cups of Mateo and Charlie along with my own. As I was setting the pot back on the stove I heard Charlie warn Doc, “If you take the last piece of chocolate, you might just be having to fix yourself up.”
“Come on, Miles, sit down and tell me what’s happening,” commanded Doc, before taking a sip.
“I’ve been offered a position as a Colorado Ranger,” I simply told the three of them.
“Does that mean Denver is in your future?” inquired Doc, sipping at the hot brew.
“No, I’ll be assigned to Section D and will travel a circuit similar to what Charlie does as sheriff.
Mateo was staring, and I could tell he was puzzled. “Amigo, pardon my ignorance, but I have never, ever, heard of the Colorado Mounted Rangers.”
“And what is Section D?” blurted out Doc.
“Ask him what Molly thinks of it,” snickered Charlie. I looked at him, smiling. A large chuck of gravy had fallen on his new shirt. The whitish color of the gravy showed up quite well on his maroon shirt.
“Hold on…”