Amos Martin has got a mob stirred up saying that his daughter had been kidnapped and was being held in the Mexican section of the town. He has threatened the law officers and the ministers of the community as well as threatened to burn down the barrio. Tensions are high and now Marshal Ramirez has offered to take off his badge and settle the dispute with Martin. Join with me now another saga from the thrilling days of yesteryear.
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“Easy, Mateo,” I said, moving closer to him.
“You hear that Sheriff,” hollered Frank Moser from the crowd that was beginning to disperse. “You need to remove his badge!”
Moser was a hard-luck miner who seemed always ready to blame someone else for the misery he brought upon himself. Instead of out trying to find a job, he spent most of his time yapping and drinking in one of the saloons. Most folks with common sense saw him for what he was. I guess he saw this as a chance of rising in the eyes of some.
“I’ll stand by yuh,” barked Moser, moving up closer to Martin. He turned to look at the men who were now leaving the scene, and with a sneer said, “Even if these cowards back away.”
Lifting the Greener I stepped toward Moser. “Then I think you need to feel some of the same medicine that’s been given out,” I said, thrusting the barrel up under his chin, knocking him back a step and then lifting him to his toes. He quickly calmed down so I took some of the pressure off by removing the shotgun and stepping back to watch him rub where the barrel had rested under his chin.
A chuckle emerged from Mateo. “You told me to take it easy.”
“I’m not fighting the law,” muttered Martin, “but I aim to find my daughter.” He started to turn away then stopped to glare at the preacher and priest then shot daggers from his eyes at Mateo. “I’ll find her one way or another.” He spat in the snow then walked away leaving his comrade standing before me.
I smiled at Moser, who almost wilted seeing that he was now alone. Without hesitation he turned to hurry to catch up with Martin, slipping and falling to a knee before starting off again. Martin didn’t pay him any mind but just walked the faster.
When he left, Charlie came down to where the four of us were standing. “Well, that was fun for a cold morning,” he stated to no one in particular.
Turning to the parson I asked, “Would you mind explainin’ what is goin’ on?”
It was Father Cisneros that spoke up. “Javier and Agatha have been seeing each other whenever the opportunity arises for the past couple of years. When they reached the legal age they asked if they could get married. Javier is a good lad, and works hard.”
“However,” interrupted Rev. Chapman, “Agatha said that she would not marry him with only a Catholic priest available. She also informed him that I had to give permission for them to marry since her father opposed it.”
“I take it you did,” I said, staring at the parson.
“Not necessarily my permission, but I agreed to marry them,” he informed me. “Agatha has asked her father on more than one occasion and he even went so far as to strike her once.”
“And he beat up Javier. I went to talk with Martin about that; Javier did not want to press charges,” declared Mateo.
“Amos definitely has a problem,” offered the parson.
“Hatred,” I muttered, then added, “hatred mostly of himself and he spews it out on everyone else, especially those who he thinks of as his lessers.”
“What about the newly weds?” I asked.
“Javier has a job waiting for him this spring down near Taos,” offered the priest. “But it is too cold now to travel there, plus the job doesn’t start until the end of March.”
I sighed, then saw Charlie shaking his head. “Any place we can hide them for a couple of weeks?”
I pulled on my moustache. It was Mateo that spoke up. “Yes, we can hide them, but Martin won’t believe they aren’t in the barrio. He will attempt to find them.”
“They can stay in the church,” offered the priest.
“Or at my house, I’m sure Betty wouldn’t mind.”
“All right we hide them, but Mateo has a good point. It won’t stop Martin from searching, plus it puts your lives in danger.”
I had a half-smile as I took in the gaze of the two lawmen standing with me. As we were standing there, thinking, Parson Chapman declared, “I think it’s time we prayed…”