For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people in Israel.” 

                      –Luke 2:30-32 (NIV)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     Rev. Chapman was waiting at the entrance to the church.  As was his custom he stood by the door to greet and if need be pray with those who came by.  He always had his hand out ready to shake, and Betty, his wife was there by his side with a smile.

     “I heard about your accident,” he said to me.  I could see that he wanted to smile, but he managed a straight face.  “Looks like a catamount really worked you over.”

     “Preacher you done let loose with a fine sermon, now don’t be overdoin’ it out here,” I tried to look mean as I said it, but who knows how I looked.  At least my eyes were open now, well, one was still partially shut.  I was still in quite some pain and moving mighty slow.

     Betty elbowed her husband, then gave me a smile.  “Miles, I am so sorry.  Is there anything we can do?”

     “Talk with Molly.  If’n there’s anything she could tell you.”

     The preacher put his hand on my shoulder, then looked straight at me.  “Seriously, Miles, if there’s anything we can do.”

     I nodded, then put on my hat.  “I know Parson.”

     Molly held me by the arm and we moved slowly and surely down the steps and on down the hill.  I was hurting by the time we reached the road.  Looking out before me, I found myself shaking my head.  It was five blocks on down to the diner, or about the same up on and around the hill to the cabin.

     “Hey, old man!  You need a ride somewhere?”

     Doc came up with his buggy.  “Jump in!  I’ll get you home.  Edith is staying with the Chapmans for dinner.  They are planning something for the kids next week.”

     He was smiling.  If he wasn’t my close friend I could be angry.  “Doc you don’t have to be so cheerful about my condition,” I said as I attempted to climb into the buggy.  “Give me a boost Molly.”

     She didn’t bother to look around to see if anyone was looking but put both hands on my behind and gave me a good shove.  Oh, did that hurt, but I was in the buggy and trying to get situated.

     “Come on Molly, there’s enough room for you.  We’re not going that far,” remarked Doc.  I grabbed onto her arm, as she put her foot on the step and moved into the buggy.  She looked at me, and I could see that she was worried about sitting on my legs.  One of them had taken quite a beating and there were several lacerations on it.  

     I gave a half smile, “Sit lightly.”

     When Doc saw that we were settled, he gave a click on his tongue and snapped the reins.  The old horse of his started plodding down the road then up the hill and around the curve.  I wouldn’t have made it to the cabin if I had to walk it.

     Molly jumped off when he stopped at the cabin door, then reached to help me down.  Kinda of embarrassing, to say the least.  She was in my customary position to aid her.

     “Miles, you have a week and a half to heal and be ready for Christmas,” barked Doc, but not unkindly.  “I’ll come by when I pick up Edith and check on those wounds.  You rest, those ribs won’t mend if you keep moving around.”

     “Thanks for the ride, Doc.  Now, if you’d quit flappin’ your jaws, Molly could get me inside where I could rest,” I snapped right back at him.  Then I gave him, or attempted to give him a smile.  “The coffee’ll be on.”

________________

 

P.S.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Miles and Molly.  There most likely will not be another segment of the Saga until 2025.  Until then, you be happy, walk with the Lord and be alert.  Be on the lookout for my new novel — Lawman.  It is about the life of Miles Forrest.

        –Luke 2:7 (HCSB)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     All I had on my mind was that turkey dinner.  I was about midway down the park when an arm grabbed me pulling me into the trees.  I swung with the Greener and connected with something, but then I was struck on the head.  As I fell, I saw several pairs of boots begin to kick at me.  One took the rowel of his spur and began to kick with his heel at my side.  I couldn’t do anything; I still held the Greener.  In my groggy state I cocked a hammer and pulled the trigger–a blast came from the barrel.  It was then I felt another hard object hit my head and I went down the last thing I thought about was pumpkin pie.

     I came to lying on a table covered with a white sheet.  It caused me to laugh which brought pain, but I recalled another time I woke in a fancy room with flowers and one of those canopies over the bed.  I thought I was in the undertaker’s parlor.  I groaned again.

     “Well, he’s alive,” I half-heard a voice.

     “Oh, Miles, what have you got yourself into this time,” came a sweet-sounding voice that I seemed to remember.

     Molly came to my side to grasp my hand.  I must have been in bad shape as I could barely make her out.  One eye was shut and the other I had to squint.  I tried to grin when I asked in a whisper, “I take it I missed the turkey dinner and pie.”

     I heard someone grunt in the room; it must have been Doc.  “The turkey and pie will keep,” came the soothing voice of Molly.

     Two men stepped up to the side of the bed.  “Any idea who jumped you, Miles?”  It was Mateo asking.  I tried to shake my head, but the pain was too bad.  I lifted a hand and waved.

     “I don’t even know what happened,” I replied.  “Thirsty…”

     A few seconds later, Molly had a glass of water at my lips.  “Slow and easy, Mister,” she said trying to keep the tension down.

     “If Lucas hadn’t come running, well, those men most likely would have kicked you to death.  He heard the sound of the shotgun and came from the jail to investigate.” 

     Mateo added, “The blast from the shotgun must have scared them away,” he paused, and I tried to open my eye wider.  “Did you happen to hit any of them with the shot?”

     I vaguely recalled firing the shotgun, then everything went black.  “Don’t know.”

     I tried to lift myself up, but the pain shot through me.  “Easy, don’t try to be moving!” ordered Doc.  “If you need something ask.  Miles, I don’t have to tell you, that you’re really beat up.  It looks like a team of mules stomped on you.  Bruises and lacerations cover your body, and you have a few broken ribs.  I had to stitch up some of those cuts, they were pretty deep.”

     “Spurs,” I muttered.

     “What?” I heard the three of them exclaim at the same time.

     Doc leaned down, looking at my barely opened eye.  “You rest, sleep,” and he sorta chuckled, “and don’t be moving around.  I’ll check on you later.”

     I felt that they were leaving, but I held tightly to Molly’s hand.  “Don’t go,” I pleaded.  

     Someone, Mateo, may have said, “Stay, I’ll tell the others that he’s come to.”

     As I was drifting into unconsciousness again, my mind went to that dinner and pie…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     What a Thanksgiving it was.  If Nick Parsons hadn’t come with Thompson’s steer there wouldn’t have been enough food.  It seemed like two-thirds of the town showed up plus all of the out-of-work miners.  Thompson even allowed his crew to come in save a few that had to be at the ranch.  It also caught my attention that several teamsters happened to find themselves in town for the festivities.

     Father Cisneros jumped right in to help with Parson Chapman and his wife.  Not all of the beef provided by Thompson and Winfield was made into stew.  The ladies decided to offer steaks at a price.  The stew was free, but other menu items could be purchased.  What was made off that would be split between the Father’s parish and the Parson’s church.

     Parsons along with Reese Donovan, Thompson’ cook, worked long and hard cooking up the beef.  It seemed that the people of Durango were truly thankful this November.  There had been some hard times, and to look on the face of some of those miners, well, they needed help.  I understood that the mines couldn’t keep them with the winter hours, but the men were desperately hungry.  Part of it was due to their indiscretion in spending their hard earned wages, but that doesn’t mean we give them a kick while they’re down and hurting.  At least these men didn’t have families with them.

     I was pleased to see the Peabodys working with the crew.  Lois went right into the kitchen and began to help Emelda while Marshall made sure a pot of stew was ready to put on the stove when the big pot was getting empty.  He did his time cutting up onions, carrots, cabbage, and potatoes.

     The town council helped us out by ordering all of the saloons closed for the day.  That way the four of us lawmen didn’t have to worry too much about drunks.  There were a couple of rowdies that Mateo had to thump that started a ruckus because of the closures.  Because of the closures of those establishments, there were added a number of people of ill repute that gained the attention of the Parson.  See, one of the requirements for the free dinner was to listen to the Parson preach.  Now, he doesn’t get all eloquent, but preaches a solid salvation message in ten minutes.  ‘Course he does it about every two hours.

     It was just before we shut down the feeding that Joe Dixon approached Molly and Marta.  I saw Molly wipe something from her eye as Joe left.  He owns a poultry farm outside of town.  Walking over to me, she was still dabbing at her eye.  “Joe said that he’s preparing a turkey for all of us,” she told me.  “He’s going to bring it by tomorrow when we close the diner.”

     “Turkey!” I almost shouted, then looked around to see if anyone heard my exuberance.  

     She nodded.  “He’s adding some turkeys to keep along with the chickens and he wanted to share his blessings with us.”

     Maybe I shouldn’t have been thinking so hard about the fixin’s and the festivities and the fun.  Maybe I shouldn’t have had my mind on a turkey dinner.  Maybe, just maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten myself in the fix I was in.  The snow had started falling and I was moving down next to the park from the office to the diner when, if maybe I had been more aware…

Amen!  Blessing and glory and wisdom, thanksgiving and honor and power and might, be to our God forever and ever.  Amen.”  –Revelation 7:12(NKJV)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

     When I arrived at the depot, I saw Charlie behind some barrels just off the platform across from the baggage car.  There was a man and from what I could tell, a railroad worker lying on the ground in front of the car.  Steam was flowing from the engine causing me to grin.  Smart man, that engineer.  When the shooting started, he cut off the engine then he and the fireman hightailed it out of the area.

     I ran to where Charlie was watching.  “What’s the scoop?”

     “Robbery.  From what I can tell there are at least three men inside the….”  Shots were fired from the other side of the train interrupting his information.  We looked at each other, then came a shrill whistle.  “Mateo,” we said at the same time.

     He began where he left off.  “At least three men inside.  I’m not sure if there is another baggage man inside or not.  They shot one throwing him on the ground,” he pointed to the man with his gun.

     “Have they said anything?  Made any demands?”  Then came the shot from inside the car.  I didn’t like the sound of that; it could mean that they shot the other worker.  “Let me move over to your left.  Mateo has the other side covered.  Do you want to handle this, Sheriff?”

     Giving me a wry smile, “We’ll play it by ear.  When you get in position, I’ll move up to the train.”

     I scrambled away moving behind some crates twenty feet from where Charlie was situated.  I hollered, “You, in the train!  This is your only chance to surrender!  Throw out your guns and come out!”

     There was no reply, then the side door began to open.  Upon the sound I lifted the Greener in position to fire.  I was hoping that they would throw down their guns.  A hand appeared, holding a gun.  There was a quick shot at nothing in particular, then a face emerged.  I fired, blood spewed followed by a thump.  The door quickly closed.  When I fired Charlie ran to the train.

     Being in that baggage car they had no windows.  They didn’t know how many men were outside the car, or that Mateo had taken the men holding their horses.  I yelled again, “I’ll give you one more chance!  Throw out your weapons and come out!”

     “We’re coming!” came a voice from the car.

     Charlie leaned down under the car.  “Mateo, go to the rear, I have a feeling.”

     Moving from my position I ran to the side of the baggage car, that way I could cover the door or the sliding door.  They were coming out the door between where Charlie and I stood.  Two men, holding their guns up.  I didn’t like it.

     “Drop them!” ordered Charlie.

     A shot to my left splintered the frame, I turned to fire and at the same time I heard another shot.  The man who fired at me crumpled to the ground.  Then chaos broke out with the two men firing at where Charlie was standing.  He was safe, behind the passenger car, but dared not show himself.  We waited, they would soon empty their guns and had nowhere to run.

     Then a shot came from inside.  When that happened there was a lull.  Charlie and I both moved to the opening between the cars.  He fired at the men and I cut loose with the other barrel, then drew my pistol.  Suddenly it was quiet and it was almost haunting after all the noise.

     “Coming out!” hollered Mateo.  He had gone in through the door where the other thief had come out.  “Worker inside, shot and in a bad way,” he informed us as Charlie went up the steps to check on the men that we shot.  I went to the downed worker lying on the ground by the train.  He was bleeding and unconscious, but still alive.

     Doc Jones had left the diner right behind us, went to his office to get his bag and was now on the scene.  I waved at him to come check on this man.  “There’s another  one inside the car,” I informed him, then moved to check on the man that Mateo and I shot.

 

     Two hours later, Charlie, Doc, and I were sitting back in the diner.  Mateo had decided to go to see Luciana to let her know he was all right.  “Terrible, just terrible,” muttered Doc after taking a swallow of coffee.  “There was just no sense in them not surrendering.”

     “Desperate men do strange things, Doc,” remarked Charlie.  “They should have surrendered,” he paused, shaking his head.  “One of them would have been tried for the murder of the clerk inside the car, though.”

     “Four dead criminals, one railroad worker,” murmured Doc.  “At least one will pull through.  He was shot just over the hip, the bullet went straight through.  No vitals were hit.”

     “Shame this had to happen just before Thanksgiving,” said Charlie.

     “Killin’ is always a shame,” I stated matter of factly.  Then looking from one man to the other.  “But we can be thankful that we’re here and that Mateo is fine.”

     We were sitting at the table, quietly thinking of the morning, when Nick Parsons walked through the entrance…