The Saga of Miles Forrest

The marshal, doc, and undertaker had finished with their business and taken out the bodies–living and dead. One is marginal, but doc don’t think he will make it. Now to get the blood off the floor. I checked and at least there was hot coffee, so poured a cup and sat down.
Molly was working on the floor in her traveling dress but Hannah and Greta, who were kept in the back, came out and told her to go sit. The rush was moving away from me, but then I jerked my head.
“Miles, what’s wrong?” Molly asked.
“Thought I saw someone else sittin’ there in the corner. My mind must be playin’ tricks.” Then I heard the distant cackle. I knew then–the Pale Rider.
“You’re bleeding!” Molly exclaimed.
I forgot during the ruckus that I felt something tag me. Seems like there were two shots. “Your neck,” and she went and got a cloth. It seemed the bullet just creased the back of my neck. More blood than being dangerous. Molly cleaned it good, and bandaged it.
“Should be another hole here somewhere,” I said and stood up.
We examined me and didn’t find any blood, much less another hole. I took off my jacket and there it was. A hole in the jacket and a small tear skimming my gunbelt. I checked the leather. It sure wouldn’t do to be out and all of a sudden my holster fall off when I needed it. The thought made me smile.
“Miles Forrest! This is not a laughing matter!” exclaimed Molly. “You could have been killed!”
“I didn’t go lookin’ for anything. Remember, they were in here waitin’ for us. Sit down and have a cup of coffee. It’ll settle that rile down that you’re accumlatin’.”
“Hmpf,” but she sat and I poured coffee.
“I surely hope I don’t have to deal with this often. I’m not sure though since Wray and his cronies are now out of prison. The Lord will just have to keep His hand on us. Feel sorta sorry for them guys though. They weren’t gunnies, just saddle-bums wantin’ to make some money–the bad way.”
A few days later I was sitting there eating some of the best biscuits and gravy with an egg on top, and Molly even succumbed to making a pie–raisin. Sure was feeling a bit spoiled. The next day Wells Fargo was sending me up to Ouray. They want me to check the security of the office there and then up to Montrose. I would be gone about two weeks.
“Don’t you go nowhere without the rifle; and be carryin’ the pistol with you as well.” I told Molly. “I don’t like leavin’ you this long so you be alert. It would be just like Wray to show up here. Hope Trenton is on the job, so if they leave Denver we’ll know about it.”
She put her hand on mine to try and reassure me she’d be alright. “Miles, I trust the same Lord as you. He’ll protect me the same way He does you.”
I sighed and reached for the coffee pot.
One thing, it would be nice riding in the mountains this time of year. Both Hawk and Star needed to be ridden, but I decided to take Hawk. He was a better mountain horse and the road from Silverton to Ouray was poor at the least. I had never ridden down from Silverton so this would be a new trail for me. I always look forward to seeing new country.

Coffee Percs

“We sat and talked, drank coffee and ate frijoles, tortillas, and beef, and speculated on tomorrow.”      –Louis L’Amour

Come in an throw yur ankles under the table; coffee’s hot and strong. Trust you had a good week. Did yuh learn anything new? Wife and I finally took a day trip and went to Gonzales and Cuero. Yep, good time. We went to see the Chisholm Trail Heritage Museum. Worth the trip, then we found a little Mexican hole-in-the-way place to eat. Pard, they had some good enchiladas and they make their own hot sauce. The ol’ gizzard was in pure delight.
That just goes to show yuh tha things aren’t always as they look. The old sayin’ “don’t judge a book by its cover” rang true in this case. Some things that are all prettiful and downright ugly when yuh get inside and the reverse is true as well. In fact, we was talkin’ ’bout that the other day. A person can go into one of those high flautin’ eatin’ places and the food is stylish but come right down to it, hardly anything beats roast beef and potatoes, ‘specially if it is BBQ.
Here’s another piece of advice, and the Scriptures bear it out. Oops, let me fill that cup. Did I see yuh sneak in a spoon of sugar? Come on pard, not gettin’ soft are yuh? Daughter uses honey, but then I can abide with that, she’s a girl. Back to my sayin’, plan for tomorrow, but don’t go frettin’ it. I know the politikin’ and elections sure can throw the bile in yur stomach, but just be ready. Ain’t the Lord in charge after all?
Have to get gussied up later, so things need to be done this mornin’. Yep, wedding to attend. Don’t yuh fret none, I don’t plan to ride unless I check my cinch first.