The Saga of Miles Forrest

Lucas and I were sitting in the dining car heading back to Durango.  He finished his job with Ring and Bellows and deposited the prisoners to the Warden at the State Penitentiary in Canon City along with the body of Martin Blue.  Ring explained to the Warden what happened and how Lucas had taken care of the situation.  From a distance I saw the Warden eyeing Lucas over, slapped him on the shoulder then shook his hand.  Now we were going back home, and he was very quiet–melancholy to say the least.
       “How’re you makin’ out?” I asked sincerely, watching him play with his chocolate pie with his fork.  
       He looked up at me.  “Senor Miles, does it get any better?”
       “You mean killin’ a man?  I would hope not, if it does it is time to quit,” I stated matter-of-factly, then took a sip of the coffee.  It certainly could be stronger.  Weak coffee and flaccid pie.  At least it was chocolate so I could work through it.
       “I really didn’t want to do it, but, but, I felt I had no choice,” he muttered, then forked up a piece of the pie.  Frowning, he said, “Certainly not Senora Molly’s pie.”
       I had to smile while I shook my head.  “From what you and Ring told me, you didn’t.  From all aspects you made the right decision–the hard decision, but the right decision.”  With that we both went to work on what was supposed to be chocolate pie.
       Finishing mine first, I wiped my mouth and moustache off with the linen napkin.  Perhaps the use of linen napkins was the reason for the coffee costing a dime, and the pie thirty cents.  Goodness, coffee and pie for the price of a meal at Molly’s.  There’s more than one way to rob a man.
       As Lucas was placing his last piece of pie in his mouth, I asked, “I have to know Lucas.  Why’d you haul off and hit me?”
       He swallowed, then took the last sip of coffee before answering.  “I was tired of you treating me as a kid.  I knew you were following me, checking up to see if I needed help, if I was all right.  Senor Miles, either I can do the job or I cannot, but leave me try!”
       I stared at him, he was right.  I decided to be honest with him.  “Lucas, you did notice that I didn’t help you.”  He gave a little shrug.  “I promised your aunt, Marta, to go.  I didn’t do it to protect you, but for her comfort.  She has been strugglin’ lately the past few months with Charlie being the sheriff, and now you workin’ as a deputy.”
       He gave a slight nod.  “No more though,” I said.  “You’ve proved yourself.  Oh, you still have a lot to learn, but yur on the way,” I paused, looking him straight in the eye.  “I won’t say more now, just don’t go off half-cocked thinkin’ you know it all.”
       Pushing the dish toward the middle of the table, he almost grinned as he said, “It will be hard to wait to get back to some of Senora’s pie.”
       I wanted another cup of coffee, but they didn’t give refills, you had to pay another dime.  Was it worth it, I pondered to myself.  It was coffee, but it wasn’t that good of coffee.  I wiped my moustache.  I could wait until we had a short stop along the way to grab a cup.  I put my money on the table, four-bits to include a tip, then got up and started for the passenger car.
       Looking down at Lucas as I passed him, he mouth was open.  “Yur a full-fledged deputy now.  Time to pay yur own way.”
       A frantic look appeared on his face as he began to search his pockets for some change.  His eyes glanced up at my face, pleading.  I slowly touched my chin where hours before he had struck me for treating him as a kid.  I smiled, reached for my little pouch and pulled out two quarters handing them to him.  “A man pays his own way…” I winked, smiled and walked away.
       Maybe I shouldn’t have done it, but I telegraphed Charlie from Pagosa Springs and he and Marta were there at the station to meet Lucas.  She fawned over him like a doting hen, and I guess that was all right.  I left home when I was about Charlie’s age never to see my mother again.  There are times to build memories for the youth before being fully thrust into the wickedness of the world.
       I walked on by, nodded at Marta and Charlie, then went on down to the diner where my treasure was waiting for me.  Surely the good Lord knew what He was doing when He brought Molly to me.  Our lives just sort of meshed together.  When I entered the diner, there were two customers.  Molly wasn’t to be seen, but on my table was an empty cup waiting to be filled, and a piece of apple pie.  I looked around one more time, then headed for the table.  
       Laying the shotgun on the table, I took off my jacket placing it on top of the Greener.  Before sitting down, I reached for the coffeepot on the stove then filled my cup.  I had just placed the cup on the table, when Molly rushed out from the kitchen.  I grabbed her and we held on tight to each other, ahh, could life be better?