The Saga of Miles Forrest

I caught up with Wray and grabbed him by his shoulder just as he was stepping aboard the train.  Jerking him off the step, it took all my fortitude not to club him over the head.  Pinning him against the car I spoke very softly yet distinctly to him.  “Didn’t work!  I’m fine, Molly is fine, my friends are fine.”
He tried to get away from me, but I held him firm.  “One day, I’ll have the evidence, and when I do, I’ll be lookin’ for you, and you won’t be able to hide from me.”
“You’re crazy Forrest!  Let me go!” 
I released him, but kept my gaze on him.  “Get on that train Wray, you disgust me!  But heed my words!”
I turned from him and started to walk away.  “It’s not over yet, Forrest.  No, not by a long shot.” 
Turning back toward him; his eyes widened and he hurried inside the car.  I followed him aboard and down the aisle.  I wasn’t really after him, but I wanted to see if Ferguson was aboard as well.  Wray moved into a seat along with another person.  I reckon he figured that I wouldn’t bother him there.  I was through with him for the time being, but I did stop and stare for a moment and then went on out the other entry.
It took a few minutes for me to walk on up to the place where the shack once stood.  There was some pastureland where we kept Hawk, Star, and Two-Bits.  I wanted to check Hawk’s head.  Since the bullet grazed him he had seemed all right.  This trip, however, I decided to ride Star.  He needed some work, and Hawk had been through enough. 
With a foot on the fence there stood a man–Trenton.  “Been waiting for you.”  I didn’t say anything.  He sort of ducked his head, then adjusted his eye-patch.  “Want to thank you for not giving up on me.”
“Wray’s on the train, headin’ for Denver,” I said.
His one eye widened.  He put his hand on my shoulder and hurried on down the hill.  Guess he had a train to catch.
After stopping by to see Molly and get some provisions for a couple of days, Star and I headed out leading a couple of old pack mules.  I only had a few days, for there was a trip for me to take to Silverton over the weekend.  Hopefully I would find a herd of deer or elk close by.
It was still cold at night, so I made sure I had plenty of wood to keep the fire stoked.  There was a big boulder behind me so I was able to snuggle down between it and the fire.  That way the heat was reflected and I was warm on both sides.  I’d spent plenty of nights where I was hot on one side and freezing on the other and the night was spent tossing and turning. 
I felt Him more than I heard Him approach.  “Still awake, Miles?” came the voice.
As I rolled over to look at Him the flame rose hiding His face.  “Here, I poured this for you,” and He handed me a cup of coffee.
Reaching down to take the cup I could see what looked like a scar on His wrist.  “You’ve had a rough time,” He said and then paused.  I took a sip of the hot coffee.  “Life isn’t over, so don’t let the Pale Rider upset you.  Miles, justice is one thing, vengeance is another.  Be careful you don’t get them mixed up.  Man is an instrument of justice, and you are one of those men.  However, vengeance is mine alone.”
He stood and I watched, still hoping for a glimpse of His face.  “Have a good hunt.”