It was a good, quick, successful hunt. I was able to bag a couple of deer and three nice-sized elk. There was more to be had, but I only had two mules along with me; I couldn’t have taken more meat out and I sure wasn’t one to be wasteful.
Heading back into Durango I went straight off to Miguel’s. He was a man that did much of our butchering. I didn’t have the time to take care of this. He said he would get one of each butchered up today and down to the eatery. He would put the rest in his ice cave. He dug out a small cave on the side of the hill and every winter he cuts ice from the Animas and stores it in the cave. It keeps most of every summer; meat doesn’t spoil easily. He said he’d bring down a couple of hams he had in the smokehouse that were ready.
After making my delivery to Miguel I went on down to see Molly. I had a hankerin’ for some coffee and hopefully a piece of pie. Since it was afternoon there was only one customer there and he was just lingering over his cup of coffee. I walked on back to the kitchen, and there she was. Her back was to me and she was brushing flour off her hands, most of it on her apron. Marta saw me, and I put a finger to my lips to hush her as I snuck up on Molly.
I put my arms around her and she let out a yelp and knocked what she was working on all over the kitchen floor.  Grabbing for her knife she turned and saw me. “Miles Forrest! Don’t you ever do that again!” Then she paused and looked at the mess on the floor. “There’s your pie, mister; all over the floor and it was the last of the dried peaches.”
“Molly,” I whimpered.
“Now, don’t you go giving me that ‘poor me’ look.”
I held open my arms and with a sigh she came to me and I enclosed her in them. “You’re smiling, aren’t you?” I just held her.
“Okay, okay, go have a seat; pour a cup of coffee, and after Marta and I clean this up I come out. There are a couple of letters for you; one I left on the table.”
I had just set the Greener over the arms of the chair next to me and finished pouring a cup. Picking up the note I saw a quarter under it. Molly had just come in with a bowl of stew. “Did you notice the money under the note?” I asked.
“I hadn’t noticed that note until now,” she said perplexed.
Opening it I began to read. “You were a good friend and I’ll not have you chasing me. Don’t worry about Wray anymore. I needed a horse so I purchased Two-Bits. Tell Molly I’ll miss her pies.” It was unsigned. I just looked at Molly.
“Here are the two other letters,” and she handed them to me.
I opened the one from Wells Fargo. “There was a murder on the train to Denver. Judge Wray was killed and a grotesque way. It seemed he was in a vacant car and was found tied to one of the seats. His left eye was gouged out and he was missing an ear. Death came from a throat slit from ear to ear. Investigate as soon as you get back.”
Passing the note to Molly I opened the other. It was from Dave Cook. It read, “There was an altercation up at Virginia Dale. Our mutual friend is alright, but he said to pass on to you that he shot a man called Ferguson in the hip. He was not able to apprehend him. Come to Denver and work for me again; bring Molly – she would like it. I’ll help Wells Fargo get you transferred to the Front Range.”
I passed that note to Molly as well. As she read it I fingered the quarter. Placing it on the table I took another sip of coffee. Molly looked at me with sad eyes. I nodded, “Trenton.”

I caught up with Wray and grabbed him by his shoulder just as he was stepping aboard the train.  Jerking him off the step, it took all my fortitude not to club him over the head.  Pinning him against the car I spoke very softly yet distinctly to him.  “Didn’t work!  I’m fine, Molly is fine, my friends are fine.”
He tried to get away from me, but I held him firm.  “One day, I’ll have the evidence, and when I do, I’ll be lookin’ for you, and you won’t be able to hide from me.”
“You’re crazy Forrest!  Let me go!” 
I released him, but kept my gaze on him.  “Get on that train Wray, you disgust me!  But heed my words!”
I turned from him and started to walk away.  “It’s not over yet, Forrest.  No, not by a long shot.” 
Turning back toward him; his eyes widened and he hurried inside the car.  I followed him aboard and down the aisle.  I wasn’t really after him, but I wanted to see if Ferguson was aboard as well.  Wray moved into a seat along with another person.  I reckon he figured that I wouldn’t bother him there.  I was through with him for the time being, but I did stop and stare for a moment and then went on out the other entry.
It took a few minutes for me to walk on up to the place where the shack once stood.  There was some pastureland where we kept Hawk, Star, and Two-Bits.  I wanted to check Hawk’s head.  Since the bullet grazed him he had seemed all right.  This trip, however, I decided to ride Star.  He needed some work, and Hawk had been through enough. 
With a foot on the fence there stood a man–Trenton.  “Been waiting for you.”  I didn’t say anything.  He sort of ducked his head, then adjusted his eye-patch.  “Want to thank you for not giving up on me.”
“Wray’s on the train, headin’ for Denver,” I said.
His one eye widened.  He put his hand on my shoulder and hurried on down the hill.  Guess he had a train to catch.
After stopping by to see Molly and get some provisions for a couple of days, Star and I headed out leading a couple of old pack mules.  I only had a few days, for there was a trip for me to take to Silverton over the weekend.  Hopefully I would find a herd of deer or elk close by.
It was still cold at night, so I made sure I had plenty of wood to keep the fire stoked.  There was a big boulder behind me so I was able to snuggle down between it and the fire.  That way the heat was reflected and I was warm on both sides.  I’d spent plenty of nights where I was hot on one side and freezing on the other and the night was spent tossing and turning. 
I felt Him more than I heard Him approach.  “Still awake, Miles?” came the voice.
As I rolled over to look at Him the flame rose hiding His face.  “Here, I poured this for you,” and He handed me a cup of coffee.
Reaching down to take the cup I could see what looked like a scar on His wrist.  “You’ve had a rough time,” He said and then paused.  I took a sip of the hot coffee.  “Life isn’t over, so don’t let the Pale Rider upset you.  Miles, justice is one thing, vengeance is another.  Be careful you don’t get them mixed up.  Man is an instrument of justice, and you are one of those men.  However, vengeance is mine alone.”
He stood and I watched, still hoping for a glimpse of His face.  “Have a good hunt.”

There were no customers in the eatery when I walked in except for Trenton. I had just come back from the Wells Fargo office. Most of the track had been cleared, and by the end of the week they would be sending a train up to Silverton. It would be my job to ride up with it and bring back any gold mined over the winter.
As I walked over to the table to join Trenton, Marta came out of the kitchen with some pie; it looked like butterscotch.
“Ah, Senor Miles, I didn’t know you were here. Sit, I will get you a piece as well.” She started to the coffeepot.
“I’ll get the coffee Marta, you go get the pie,” I said. “Tell Molly, I’m here.”
“She and Lucas went to get eggs. Hannah and Greta refused to bring them. They are what you call, ‘scardy-cat’. They have been gone for a bit and should be returning.”
I looked at Trenton. I went out through the kitchen and he went out the front. He would circle to Hannah’s place and I would take the direct route. No, it wasn’t fear or worry that sent me out, but concern and caution. About half-way to Hannah’s I saw them walking my direction.
“Miles, what are you doing here?” asked Molly. “Well, since you’ve come, let Lucas carry your shotgun and you take his eggs. Now, be careful; don’t you dare break any of them!”
Most of the snow was gone, but it was very muddy. I made sure to be careful where I stepped; I for certain didn’t want the wrath of Molly upon me. As I took the eggs from Lucas I saw Trenton coming around the corner. Molly saw him as well and gave me a wry look.
We made it back without mishap. Nothing was said between us and Trenton and I went back to the table. Marta had fresh coffee for us and guarded our pie. After Molly put up the eggs she came and joined us. I grabbed a cup and filled it for her.
“Okay, you guys. What was going on?”
I looked at Trenton. “Can’t be too careful Molly. Wray and Ferguson are still on the loose. They have been trying for a couple of years now and I don’t reckon they will give up.”
She just nodded and reached over and took my fork and cut a piece of my pie. I could see the smile in her eyes as she put it in her mouth. “Want my coffee too?” I asked.
“No, mine is fine.”
Then she touched my arm. “Think you could do some hunting? We’re running short of meat.”
I looked again at Trenton. “I’ll watch over Molly.” I nodded.
“I’ll leave tomorrow, that’ll give me three days. I have to ride to Silverton on Friday.” I sipped my coffee. “We need to get some cattle. That way we will have a constant supply of meat.”
There was one more bite left of my pie. I looked at Molly and she grinned, but did not hesitate. She took my fork and ate it.
“Excuse me, I’m going back to check the office again.” I finished my coffee and walked out.
The office was a couple of blocks away, and as I started to enter my sight caught view of Wray. He saw me and …

It had been a couple of days since the last shooting. I was at my regular table and had  just poured a cup of coffee when I saw him sitting in the corner. I left the Greener on the table knowing that it wouldn’t help in this situation; he would just sneer at me. The coffee was also left on the table as I didn’t want the aroma oozing from him to taint it none.
I walked on over. “Friend, Miles, welcome. Always good to see you.”
“What are you doin’ here?” I asked.
“Why Miles, you invited me. I stay close to you. If I don’t get you I can count on you sending me your leftovers.” Then came that cackle that so irritated me to my bones.
“You’re not welcome,” I said looking at the blue veins pulsating through an almost transparent body.
He snarled. “No one welcomes me. I’m death. I’m come to collect the souls.” He wiped the pus flowing from his mouth. “You’re no better than me, Miles. You bring death as well…and don’t you try and deny it.”
“Death comes to all, but only with the permission of the Creator; the person you try to deny, but can’t do it.” The aroma was stronger and I thought I heard a sizzle.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Marta standing at the entry to the kitchen. She probably thinks I’m crazy along with being bad luck. Looking back the Pale Rider was gone. Good riddance, and I walked back to my table. The coffee was cold.
Marta came to me and reached out her hand for the cup. “Señor Miles, are you alright? Who were you talking to at that corner table?”
“Long story; some day I’ll speak to you about it.” Doc Jones walked in the restaurant along with a limping Trenton. Whew, that pulled me away from Marta. “Could you get me a fresh cup, Marta?”
“Have a seat,” I said, nodding toward a chair.
Trenton was shot when he barged in the door and fired at the person with the rifle aiming at Marta’s head. He’d sure been through it since the first of the year.
“Well, here we are again, sitting in Molly’s Shooting Gallery,” remarked Doc.
Marta walked up with my clean cup and a couple others. “Señor Doc, SeñorTrenton, what can I get you to eat?”
“Too early for a meal since the missus made a huge breakfast.”
Trenton interrupted. “Any chance there might be a pie in the kitchen?”
“I think so,” and she left.
Molly came out with Marta. I was watching carefully, making sure that they brought me a piece as well. I pulled out a chair for Molly as she laid a piece of fresh apricot pie in front of me. “You’re so spoiled,” she said with a smile.
“And I like it,” I replied as I took a sip of coffee then cut into the pie.
“Seriously, Molly,” interrupted Doc. “You should think of changing the name. Think of all the advertisement you could get, and all of it true.”
“Doc, if it wasn’t for Marta’s mother’s cooking, the place would be in shambles now.”
Trenton had almost finished his pie but looked up and remarked, “You make a pretty good pie, Molly. Most men out here will brave a ‘shooting gallery’ for a piece of your pie.”
“Got somethin’ for you Trenton,” I said as I reached to a box on the counter. “If you’re gonna be a one-eyed man, better look the part.”
He opened the box and took out a black eye-patch. Then looking at the three of us, he gave a grin. First time he had smiled since he had been butchered up. But then it disappeared and he said. “Wray and Ferguson are still out there.”