I sat there, cradling my coffee cup in both hands staring into it. “Miles, why do you have to go?” I didn’t hear the voice until it was repeated again and I was nudged in the side by Molly’s elbow. “Why is it you that has to go?”
Slowly I turned my head to look at her. “Because it’s my job. Because Judge Klaser ordered me to,” I replied, then brought the cup to my lips to finish what was left in it. “Charlie has to go to Silverton to check on things. Mateo is needed in town.”
She got up to get the coffeepot from the stove behind me to refill my cup. “Doc, what about you? Want some more?”
Doc Jones shook his head and covered the cup with his hand, “No, no, that’s enough for me.”
He watched as Molly refilled my cup, then spoke up. “Couldn’t the Judge bring in someone else? Or why not wait for the Tumbleweed Wagon?”
I took a sip before answering, it was hot! “That’s just it, there is no one else, I’m here. Plus the wagon from the prison will not be around until March, that’ll will put the burden on the Durango taxpayers.”
Taking a deeper draught, I then continued. “Besides, the Judge says that if nothing goes wrong I should be back by the end of next week…by Christmas for sure.”
A groan escaped from Molly, “Miles, something always goes wrong.”
I gave a little shrug.
Todd Johnson had been convicted earlier in the week and sentenced to thirty years in the state penitentiary over in Canon City. I would take him by train as far as Pueblo, then from there by stage. Yes, it all seemed so simple, but I will have to say that Molly was right–something always seemed to come up. Johnson had promised that I would never get him there, that his friends would free him. Well, they might try, but he’d never go free.
If he still had men out there, I had my doubts. So many of his so-called deputies had been killed, and others had left for parts unknown to keep from getting arrested. Sheriff Gold was heading up there today to check on things. Knowing the city fathers, they may have already appointed another marshal. It was known that marshals in Silverton didn’t stay around long.
“Oh, Miles,” started in Doc as he got up from his chair. “Come on by the office before you leave. Collins wants to see you.”
“How is he Doc?” inquired Molly.
Doc Jones shrugged his shoulders, “Not good. I took a third of his face off, and it looks like I might have to amputate one foot. He was in bad shape, and gangrene had already set in. I just didn’t get it all with the first surgery.”
“Poor man, crook as he is.”
“He brought it on himself,” came the words from my mouth.
“That may be so, but it is still horrible,” came her tart reply.
As Doc was walking out the door he met Parson Chapman entering. They greeted each other and Doc stepped out in the light snow that was falling. The preacher came on over to our table. Molly was already up, grabbing a cup from the counter for him.
After greeting, he took off his coat then sat down. “Are you excited about the Christmas program at the church?” he questioned with eagerness. “It’s going to be a festive time celebrating the birthday of our Lord.”
“Oh, thank you,” he said as Molly placed the coffee in front of him. “Plenty of carols, and the display of the nativity. Molly, you are going to make several pies for the occasion?”
“I’ll have plenty of time to do that since Miles will be gone,” she sputtered.
A quizzical look appeared on the Parson’s face. “Gone? Gone on Christmas?”
“I’ll be back for Christmas,” I replied. “I have to take the prisoner to Canon City.”
We chatted for a spell, then I said that I needed to take some food up to the jail, plus go over to see what Collins wanted. Marta had a tray waiting for me. “Send Lucas down and I’ll have something for him,” she informed me. I gave her a nod, and said thank you.
Carrying the Greener and tray was no easy task, but I went over to Doc’s office. I placed the tray on the desk and Doc motioned for me to come into the room where Collins was lying. Upon entering I heard, “Marshal, give me your gun…”.