It had been a wonderful Thanksgiving. I had thought at first that there would not be as many people this year since the weather had been fair and the mines hadn’t released unnecessary miners, but it didn’t happen that way. Doc Jones told me that I had forgotten to take into account that Durango had grown last year. However, there was plenty of chili and stew to go around though Joe Dixon’s turkey went fast. He gave the diner six and Emelda found a way to get them all roasted.
Over a sip of coffee and left-over pie, Parson Chapman muttered, “I wish I could get some of those folk into the church. I don’t think I knew half of the people that showed up.”
Reverend Chapman and his wife Betty along with Doc Jones and Edith were sitting at the table with me. Sheriff Gold was there and for Thanksgiving he let the two brawlers in his jail come and join the feast. They agreed if they helped clean up, the fine would be paid. The rush was over, which gave Marta time to sit and visit. Mateo along with Luciana was there so it seemed like Thanksgiving all over again.
“New folks coming in all the time,” Mateo replied to the preacher’s comment. “Take a walk up and down the streets and you’ll see new businesses springing up.”
A snort came from Charlie, “How many will stay? We know the miners are transient. A new strike and off they go unless they work for one of the larger mines.”
“Why would you say that?” questioned Molly.
“Competition. Too much competition,” Charlie joined in the conversation. “How many millinery shops do we need? Jenkins is a fine saddler, do we need another one in town? There’s not that much need for saddles to have two saddle shops.”
“Don’t forget eateries. Molly, do you realize that since you opened up there have been five more restaurants open?” Mateo stated, causing me to think that I’d not eaten in any of the others.
“And vice! Don’t forget that!” exclaimed Betty in disgust.
There was a slight chuckle from those at the table. “It’s not funny!” she exclaimed. “Mateo, how many new saloons, dance halls and the like have opened in the last year?”
“Not sure, but I think six new ones. That makes fifteen in town, but only one new dance hall, and I won’t speak of the other vicios.”
“There you go, parson,” added Doc. “Plenty of new customers for your church.”
Another small round of laughter went out, but Betty stood up with a scowl. Pastor Chapman grasped her arm, and pulled her down. “Betty, they know your feelings, and they agree with you. Don’t be spiting them.”
“Well, Parson, you did a good job with your preachin’,” I admonished.
Now he seemed disgusted. “Yeah, feed them and they’ll come, but will they listen?”
I placed my hand on his shoulder then spoke, “Have you read the parables of Jesus?” I knew he had, but said it anyways. “That was one of His problems, getting people to listen. After feeding the five thousand, they came expectin’ to be fed, and I don’t mean the spiritual food that you provide for us every Sunday.”
“Well,” piped up Doc. “I could use another doctor. Especially with you gun-toting lawmen around.”
Some more laughter and Betty was able to form a smile on her face.
We were enjoying each other’s company when a stern-looking fellow came through the door and up to our table. “I’m looking for Marshal Forrest. I was told he might be in here.” We all noticed that he had to brush snow off his coat when he entered.
“I’m Forrest.”