miliar, Lieutenant," he said. Then, to
Cortin's astonishment, the old priest blessed himself and murmured,
"Thank You, Lord."

Degas stared at him, nodded once, and duplicated the slow smile. "Same
here, Father. I'm glad we both lived to see it."

This time it was Cortin who looked from one to the other. "I do not
believe in coincidence," she said firmly, shaking her head.

"What coincidence?" Father Harrison asked, beaming at her. "This happy
meeting is simply the power of prayer in action. Needless to say, I'm
delighted to see the troubled boy I counseled has matured into a fine
officer and found the one I predicted would complete his healing."

Cortin couldn't argue the power of prayer--and the children weren't
about to let adult seriousness delay their fun any longer. They almost
pulled Cortin outside and to the corral behind the barn, to show her
Starfire and the newborn Lifestar. The colt was a palomino, all right,
in the classic--and rare--coin-gold, his mane and tail gleaming white
as he frolicked around his mother. If she were any judge, Cortin
thought, he'd be a prize-winner before too long. And he positively
glowed with vitality--if Father Harrison had seen that kind of
connection between her and the colt, she could only feel flattered.

She wasn't allowed much time to think about that, though. The children
wanted to show off their Young Farmer projects, so she spent the rest
of the time till Margaret called them in to supper happily admiring
them and giving any help the children asked for.

Once they were seated at the table and the children's father had said
grace, Degas turned to the priest. "If I'm out of line, Father, forget
I asked--but is there any reason you're all wearing cartridges on
neck-chains?"

Father Harrison glanced at Cortin with a smile. "We wanted souvenirs
of Captain Cortin's visit, once we got over the shock of her sudden
arrival, and cartridges were all she had extras of. She was kind
enough to bless them for us, asking special protection from terrorists.
I put them on neck-chains, and we've been wearing them ever since."

"Fortunately," Cortin said, "terrorists seldom show any interest in
farms or landfolk, so we'll probably never know how effective they are."

"On the other hand," Degas said, "we might--I'd like one, and I'll even
provide my own cartridge. I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of the
team felt the same way, too."

"Okay, as long as you don't ex