What had they been like back in the day? He wished he could have seen them. Known them. They had to have been quite a wild bunch. And even though he was quite a bit younger, Sam told tales of how he’d tagged along with the older boys. Trey smiled at the image.
He glanced over the half-dozen others in the bar, and then to the window where snow fell on the other side of the glass. Thick, big flakes of cold and damp. It was going to be a quiet night. He could afford to kick back and watch.
“Whatcha think about that?” Hap interrupted Trey’s thoughts as he leaned forward to catch Trey’s eye. “I think he’s full of baloney.”
Though Trey hadn’t heard the whole conversation, he didn’t have to ask who or what Hap was referring to. Win and Hap had this same argument every time they came in here. The razzing went on as usual.
“I don’t listen to all your crap,” Trey said, a smile to contradict his denial firmly in place.
“Ah, come on.” Win slammed the empty glass to the bar. “Sure, you do. Yer a bartender. Best listeners on the planet.” He shoved the glass toward Trey. “Bet you got plenty of stories to share.”
Trey shook his head and refilled the glass. “I might listen, but I don’t gossip.”
“Good man,” Sam said. He nodded and took a healthy swig from the long-neck bottle.
“Humph.” Hap finished his drink, too, and mimicked Win’s movements to ask for another.
While Hap waited, he turned awkwardly, digging in his pocket, and for an instant, Trey thought the old guy was going to fall off the stool. “You ain’t foolin’ us, boy.”
Hap finally turned back around and pointed a bent finger at Trey, who breathed a sigh of relief as Hap regained his balance.
Hap had grabbed an envelope from the pocket of his jacket. It was worn and crumpled, like someone had tried to destroy it at one time.
Ancient cellophane tape had yellowed in several places. “What’s that?” Win leaned toward his friend and indicated the envelope with a hitch of his chin. “Looks older than dirt. Hell, looks like it’s been in dirt.” He cackled as if his comment was actually funny. “You out diggin’ in the cemetery or something, Hap? High school reunion?” Macabre humor was never beyond these guys.
Was that a growl that left Hap’s throat?
Whatever had been written on the outside of the envelope, if anything legible had been, was nearly worn away. Lifting the tattered flap, Hap pulled out another ancient piece of paper. Carefully, as if it were something precious, he spread it out on the bar top.
To Trey, it resembled some kid’s scribbles more than writing. Hap reached into the envelope again and pulled out a second sheet of paper. A half page.
“A telegram?” Win asked. Hap nodded. “When did you get that?”
“I didn’t.” He glanced at Win. “Your dad did.”
“What?” Win frowned.
“I was a-cleaning up the back porch. Millie is nagging me to think about that retirement community they’re a-building up the road. Now, I ain’t sayin’ I’m willing to go there, but I gotta make her believe I’m at least considering it.”
“Would you get on with it?” Sam prodded.
“Hurumph.” Hap pushed the old telegram another inch toward Win. “I just found this. It was in a box I’d packed up years ago when I retired from the shop. Haven’t looked in it since. Thought it was all mine. Didn’t know there was any of your stuff in it.”
Win hesitated before reaching for the telegram. Trey put one of his bartender superpowers to work—reading upside down. There wasn’t much on the page, so it wasn’t hard. Sent a map of our find. Will be in the post soon. Yours and Mom’s if I don’t come home. Love, Duncan.
“Duncan? Your brother Duncan?” Sam asked.
Silence was the only answer for a long minute. Win stared. Sam waited. Hap glared. And Trey pretended not to notice any of it. Finally, Winston took a deep breath. “Yeah.” He looked up at Trey. “My older brother. He didn’t come home from Vietnam.” He said it with the rhyme of a curse word.
The word caught Trey’s ear, and he froze, his smile vanishing.
“Vietnam.” Hap repeated it and Trey saw the other two nod. Were these guys vets? They were the right age. Same as his granddad. Trey cringed. Was that how Pal Senior had met Win? He’d never heard that story.
Trey’s mind tripped back to all the other stories his grandfather had shared with every man who’d ever worked on the ranch. Back to a time when he’d believed every word the old man said.
A bitter taste rose up in Trey’s throat, and he shoved away from the bar. His heart picked up a beat, and he curled his hands into fists. Curses echoed in his mind. This was so not why he was here. He’d come to Telluride so he could be totally on his own, to leave his past behind.
Trey grabbed a mop and headed to clean up the puddle Hap had made coming in, but that did little to distract him as their voices still carried across the nearly empty room.
“What’s he mean by find?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know.” Win reached out and grabbed the page of scribbles, the crinkle of the paper cutting through Trey’s well-intentioned escape.
Win turned the page around half a dozen times before saying, “Nothing on this ‘map’ looks familiar to me.”
“Are you kidding?” Hap said. “This here—it’s the peak over near the falls. Just past where they’re a-building that retirement community Millie’s so in love with.”
“How can you be so sure of that?”
“I’ve seen enough brochures of the place—I can find it in my sleep. And look.” He turned the makeshift map into the light. “Here’s the highway and this is that old ski run. See?”
The two men leaned forward and tried to see what Hap was showing them. Trey gave up trying to keep his distance and went to join them. Curiosity just might kill him.
“You know anything about this?” Sam asked Win.
The air hung thick and full of something Trey didn’t want to take time to identify.
Finally, Win shook his head. “I was a kid when he left.” Win’s faded eyes grew distant. “I remember goin’ to the funeral more than I remember him.” He chuckled softly, not happily. “Jumped half a foot when the twenty-one-gun salute echoed across the valley. All the grown-ups were crying.” He shook his head and reached for the glass Trey set in front of him. His hand wasn’t as steady this time when he took a deep swallow.
Trey saw more than that in Win’s eyes, which met his briefly before skittering away. With a whispered curse, Win climbed down off the barstool. “I’m done, boys.” He shrugged his jacket on and walked slowly to the door. “Put the drink on my tab, Trey. See ya.” And he disappeared into the night.
“Well.” Hap sighed. “That was a waste of time.”
“What were you trying to do, exactly?” Sam asked.
“Get information about this ‘find.’ It’s gotta be a treasure.”
“You’re an old fool. What do you need a treasure for?”
“Are you nuts?” Hap smacked a gnarled hand on the metal walker at his side. “To keep me outta one of them places.”
Sam pursed his lips and lifted his beer to drink. He didn’t say any more. When the bottle was empty, he stood. “Come on, Hap. Let’s