There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to rebuild.” –Ecclesiastes 3:1-3 (NLT)
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The windows of the entrance were blasted out with the shot flinging glass and buckshot everywhere. Barnes caught a good bit before we had time to react. A few pieces found their way to me, but nothing serious. Watching where the glass was I half-crawled to the doorway. There was no one there but a few onlookers across the street. I stood up then went outside to see if I could spot anyone. In the far distance, up at the end of the street I saw a horseman pounding away.
I pointed to the couple across the street to come over to me. As they began to approach I went back inside to check on Barnes. He was bleeding from several spots, but from a casual observance I didn’t think any of them posed a severe threat to life. I helped him up to a chair, then went to the bar to grab a couple of towels. “Use these to stop the blood, until Doc gets here,” I ordered, then turned my attention to the couple.
“Everyone all right?” questioned the man quite concerned.
Nodding, I replied, “Nothin’ serious. You’re the Hansens right?” He seemed proud that I remembered. “Linda and Cory.”
He was gloating a little, then answered, “Proud you remembered us. Yes, we own the leather and cobbler’s shop down the street.”
“I saw you were across the street when the blast occurred. Did you see the man who fired the shot?”
He began to shake his head. “We were hurrying to get to the shop as we’re some late in opening up this morning. I wasn’t paying attention until after the shot, then I grabbed Linda and we got down close to boardwalk,” he said then smiled. “Sorta to make ourselves as small as possible.”
“I understand that. But you can tell me nothing about the man?”
Continuing to shake his head, “I’m sorry Marshal. All I know is that he was wearing a brown coat and riding a bay horse.”
“His spurs,” blurted Linda. “He was wearing those Mexican rowels. I saw them when he spurred his horse to ride off.”
My hand went to the side of my face where I felt the same type of spur a month ago. I wondered if it was the same person. Someone with a vendetta. “If either of you think of something else, come see me.”
They both nodded, but before they turned to leave Cory asked, “How are the boots holding up?” I remembered that I took a pair of boots to him for new soles.”
“Fine, fine. You do good work.”
That made both of them beam and as they left Linda patted me on the arm. “I pray that your day goes much better.”
“So do I, “Ma’am, so do I.”
As they walked off I saw Doc scurrying up the street as fast as he could in the slush and mud. He glanced at me upon approaching and I pointed for him to go inside. I followed.
Barnes was gone.
I followed the drops of blood out the back. Doc was coming behind me. The trail was hard to spot, but every now and then there was a drop of blood. Wish the snow had stayed on the ground longer. We walked down the alley cautiously. I had already been startled once today and didn’t want a similar occurrence to happen.
The trail moved from the alley to the back of a warehouse where I saw that it went between two buildings. “You stay here until I say it’s clear,” I ordered Doc.
“You say he was hurt badly?” came his question.
“Not that I could see.”
He muttered something I didn’t quite hear, then spoke up. “That blood is getting brighter. I’m wondering if an artery wasn’t nicked.”
I looked at him, then started moving up between the buildings. A nice set up for an ambush if ever there was one. No place to go if a shooter appeared.
It was like I was prophesying. A voice sounded in front of me, but in the dark of the shadows I couldn’t see anyone. “You’re as good as dead, Forrest.”
Stopping in my tracks I flung the Greener up…