The Saga of Miles Forrest

Lamb was moving rather slowly as his wound still bothered him.  Doc raised his hand and waved him over to our table.  His walk was a little above a shuffle and mosey.  Charlie Gold reached over to grab a chair from another table so he could sit down.  Molly jumped up and started for the kitchen.  Now, what was she doing?
    It was quiet around the table as he seated himself.  I was not used to having a casual time with a criminal, especially one that had tried to harm my family and friends.  Perhaps Lamb sensed the problem, for he uttered, “I don’t mean to intrude.”
    I wanted to blurt out, “Then don’t,” but Molly was coming back from the kitchen with a piece of butterscotch pie.
    “Here you go, Mr. Lamb,” she said then turned to me.  “Miles, get Mr. Lamb a cup of coffee to go with his pie.”
    It was not a request.
    “Thank you, ma’am,” he muttered seemingly somewhat embarrassed.  He then asked, “Have you heard anything about James?  When is his trial?”
    “All I can tell you Lamb is that your brother made it to Denver.  As to his trial, I have no idea when it will take place,” answered Charlie.
    Looking at me he asked, “They wouldn’t put him in prison with only one arm would they?”
    Doc wiped down his chin with his hand.  “I imagine the defense will use that to their advantage.  But you must understand that he must face the consequences of his actions.”
    “Lamb, I met some friends of yours up Silverton way,” his fork was halfway to his mouth when I said this.  He stopped to look my direction.  “Fellow by the name of Micah Teeter, along with Jenks and Framm.”
    He lowered his fork to the plate.  “Did they say they were my friends?” he asked with a straight-face.
    I gave a little shrug, then added, “Not directly.”
    “Then I’ve never heard of them,” he snapped pushing the rest of the pie away from him.
    “Your trial will probably come up right after Christmas.  You sure you want to stick to that story?” I asked.
    This time I received a glare.  Molly placed her hand on my arm.  “Mister Lamb, we all have to pay the consequences for our actions,” she paused then continued, “and that includes sinning against the Most High,” she stopped and gave him a smile.  “That’s why this time of year is so joyous.  The heavenly Father sent His Son so that we don’t have to pay the ultimate penalty for our sins.”
    He turned his gaze to Molly.  “Were you the one that sent the kid to see me?  He said he was praying for me,” he snorted.  “What rubbish, after he shot me.”
    Turning to Charlie, “Why hasn’t he been tried for attempted murder?”
    His congenial attitude had been replaced with a snarl.  “By the way,” he calmed down, “where is the woman I tried to, uh, that you say I tried to kidnap?”
    “My wife is in the kitchen.  Why do you want her?” indicated Charlie.
    “Your wife!” exclaimed Lamb shaking his head then mumbled, “I don’t stand a chance at the trial.”  Sighing he continued.  “I came to apologize if I upset her with her supposed intentions,” he stated then looked at each of us.
    Charlie stood up to get Marta…