What do people really get for all their hard work?  I have thought about this in connection with the various kinds of work God has given people to do.”  –Ecclesiastes 3:9-10, NLT

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

     Once in a while I get to aching.  The cold weather just sweeps through my weary bones; bones that have taken a beating from riding horses, herding cattle, and mostly going after human strays.  Then there are some spots that just ache.  There’s a couple of scars on my upper shoulder where bullets tended to gather.  I don’t know why outlaws seem to find that spot, but it sure is better that a few inches lower.  I was sitting at the diner, rubbing a place on my side where some miscreant shot me while I was in the process of apprehending him, when Doc Jones came in the diner.

     “What’s the problem, Miles?” he inquired, a smirky look on his face.  He knew full well, what the problem was, he’d fixed enough of the holes placed in my body whilst doing my sworn duty.

     “Don’t you have an old lady to attend with rheumatizm, or some poor cowpoke who broke his leg?” I muttered back.

     “No, no, I just came over for a piece of chocolate pie and to watch you commensurate with your supposed ailments,” he cackled before pulling out a chair to sit.  Upon sitting he continued with his jawing.  “Miles, don’t you know that all those aches, pains, and scars are there for a purpose?”

     I gave him a stare of disbelief.

     “They’re there to remind you of how the good Lord kept you from a more serious ailment–dying,” he thought he was funny so he cackled again.

     I had to nod my head in agreement.  “You’re right, Doc.  A few more inches in any number of them and yuh wouldn’t have no one to be makin’ fun of.  You want some coffee?”

     Molly had seen him come in and was coming from the kitchen with a piece of chocolate pie, Doc’s favorite.  I stood to get a cup and pour him some coffee, and upon seeing her approach grabbed another cup.

     After placing the pie in front of Doc, she joined us at the table.  “Molly, I was just explaining to your thick-headed husband that he should be glad he’s got those scars.”

     Her eyebrows arched with a questioning look on her face.  “Oh, he’s just runnin’ his jaws like he normally does.”

     “No, I’m downright serious.  If those little holes were a few inches over in some spots he wouldn’t be sitting here complaining,” he gave a little laugh.  “And he most likely would have fewer holes.”

     “Doc, have you ever heard me complain?  Honestly now?  I may rub a little here and there, and jostle myself around to get more comfortable, but I don’t complain.  I know the hand of the Lord has been protectin’ me all these years.  I may even groan a bit…”

     I was interrupted upon saying that by Molly.  “Doc, he does his groaning while he’s sleeping.”

     “At least I don’t snore.  If anything I purr…”

     Again I was interrupted, this time by Jimmy Hopkins who burst through the door holding a piece of paper.  “Marshal, Mr. Offut sent me a runnin’ with this here telegram.”

     “Sit down, Jimmy,” requested Molly.  “Would you like a piece of pie?”  She had caught him gazing at Doc’s half-eaten pie.

     “Uh, uh, why sure, but I don’t…”

     “The Marshal will pay for it,” Doc informed him, with a snicker.

     Jimmy sat down, while Molly went to get him the pie.  I read the telegram that was from Marshal Blasco.  “Teeter not wanted — STOP — Without name hard to give information — STOP — Could be Hal Thornton, not wanted in Colorado — Wanted in Kansas, arrest him.  JB”

     The Lord works in mysterious ways.  I was just getting ready to tell Doc what was in the telegram when Teeter and his friend, possibly this Thornton, came through the door and settled at a table.  I smiled at him to which I received a nod.  I didn’t want to cause a commotion in the diner, so figured I’d wait until they got up to leave.

     Funny how life has its own way of thinking…

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven….  A time to tear and a time to mend.  A time to be quiet and a time to speak up.  A time to love and a time to hate.  A time for war and a time for peace.”  –Ecclesiastes 3:1,7-8, NLT

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

     “Darnelle!” exclaimed Charlie, “What’s wrong?”

     A strand of hair came out from her scarf and she was in the process of putting it back in place.  “Do you know who came by to see me?”

     Before anyone could answer, she continued, “Micah Teeter!  He had the audacity to come by the store.  He asked if I remembered him.  I just stared at him, then stated that he looked vaguely familiar.  I could see that it angered him and he started towards me when the man with him touched his arm.”

     “Any other threats?  Did he say or do anything?” questioned Charlie.

     She took a deep sigh, composing herself.  “No, he just startled me, that’s all.  I sure wasn’t expecting to ever see him again.”

     Charlie looked from Darnelle to me.  “Do you think he’s behind the attacks on you and Molly?”

     “Attacks!  What attacks?  What’s happening?” asked Darnelle in astonishment.  

     I proceeded to tell her of the recent events, her eyes widening in concern with my information.  “So, is he responsible?” she asked.

     “Teeter is a coward.  You remember how he ran.”

     “Senor Miles,” interrupted Lucas with a quiet voice, “many times it is the coward who fires from ambush.  He is also the type of hombre that is angry with himself and will take it out of someone else.”

     All three of us turned our attention to Lucas.  “Such wise words from a young man,” stated Darnelle.  “Miles you ought to listen to him and go arrest Teeter.”

     “Now hold on there, all of you,” barked Charlie.  “I’m sheriff here and if there’s any arresting to do it will either be me or Mateo.”

     It became real quiet for a few seconds.  “Charlie, I’m not going after Teeter,” I paused to let the words take effect.  “However, if he threatens or hurts any of my friends I will have a conversation with him.”  

     He gave a nod, understanding my feelings.  “Miles, don’t make me have to come after you.”

     “Right now I have to get this telegram off to Marshal Blasco.  Come on, Darnelle, I’ll walk you back to the store.”

     She adjusted her scarf, then pulled her coat on tight.  It wasn’t that cold outside, but the wind would bite right through a person.  As we were walking, Darnelle asked, “So do you think it’s Teeter that’s harassing you?”

     I didn’t answer right off, I had to mull it in my mind for a few moments.  Stopping on the walk before stepping down to cross the street, I said, “Darnelle, I think there’s a good chance he’s involved somehow.  He doesn’t have the smarts to plan anything, but then again he is the type to bushwhack a man.”  

     We started on again.  “I’m wonderin’ who the other fellow is.  There’s somethin’ about him, I can’t quite figure,” I told her as we walked up to the store.

     “Miles!” exclaimed Darnelle, pointing.

     In red paint was written on the window of the door, “Stay away from Forrest!”

     She looked up at me, concern etched in the wrinkles of her forehead.  “What do I do?”

     I smiled at her, “Stay away from me.  But I’ll stay around to walk inside the store after you unlock the door.  Make sure there’s no boogerman inside.”

     “Miles, this is no laughing matter.  Someone is out there.”

     She was right.  Someone was trying to get my goat.  I’d keep my eye on Teeter and his companion for I was sure they were somehow involved.  Hopefully, I would get some kind of answer from Blasco, so after I made sure there was no one in the store, I wandered on over to the telegraph office.  “Send this out, will you Stan?  As soon as an answer comes back get it to me pronto.”

     He read the note, then proceeded to tap it out.  After it was sent he turned to me, “What’s this all about, Marshal?”

     “That’s what I’m tryin’ to find out,” I said, turning to go.  “Remember to get that reply to me as soon as it comes in.”

     Coming back out of the office I saw the man with Teeter standing outside the Gilded Bar.  When he noticed that I was watching him, he went inside.  I had half a mind to go find him, but what good would that do?  I looked up and down the street then started back down to the diner.  Looking down I watched where I stepped, then smiled.  “The steps of a righteous man are ordered by the Lord,” came to my mind…

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven…  A time to search and a time to lose.  A time to keep and a time to throw away.”  

       –Ecclesiastes 3:1,6 (NLT)

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

     I stared at the man who was just sitting down.  “Do you know him?” queried Doc, my gaze not wavering.

     Without saying anything, I stood to my feet and started toward the two men at the table.  My antagonist saw me coming, a wide grin forming on his face.  “Why, if it ain’t Marshal Forrest.  Long time no see.  I would say, I’m glad to see you’re doing well, but that’d be a lie.”

     “Teeter, what are you doin’ here?” I spat out my words with venom.  

     The smile didn’t leave his face.  “Just passing through on our way to Salt Lake,” he replied.  “Oh, Marshal, meet my friend, Frank Upton.”

     I glanced at the man, neither of us bothering to offer our hands to shake.  “Don’t be fretting yourself, Marshal.  He’s not wanted, and neither am I,” boasted Teeter arrogantly.  I know you won’t believe it, and I’m sure you’ll run down to your little office to check the wanted posters.  Oh, you might as well send a telegram to Blasco asking him,” he laughed, making me want to slap him silly.

     “Don’t worry, I’ll check,” came my quick reply.  “Stay out of trouble!”

     “Why, Marshal, that’s very good advice, but you’re not the sheriff.  Aren’t you over-stepping your jurisdiction?” he questioned with impudence emphasizing “jurisdiction.”

     I didn’t say anything more, my glare told him what I wanted him to know.  Before leaving, I glimpsed again at Upton, wanting to get him firmly in my mind.  Turning, I walked back to where Doc was waiting for me.  Instead of going to my seat, I picked the cofffepot off the stove to fill my cup.  I motioned it toward Doc, but he shook his head.

     Thoughts were turning in my head.  Upton, Frank Upton, the name wasn’t familiar, but there was something about his features.  I had seen them before, somewhere, years ago.

     Upon sitting, Doc spoke, “Are you going to fill me in, or just leave me out in no man’s land wondering what you’re thinking, and who that man is?”

     I took a sip of the hot, black coffee before answering.  “Doc, you remember, five, maybe six years ago, the shoot out in the courtroom with the Lamb brothers and some others?”  My mouth returned to the cup.

     “Well, I reckon so.  I had amputated the arm of one of the brothers from an earlier gun battle at the bank.  One of them was killed in the courtroom if I’m thinking right, the other, the one with one arm, should still be in prison,” he paused turning to look at the two men, neither of which were paying any attention but were in the process of giving Lola their order.  Shaking his head, “I’m not following you.”

     “In the courtroom that day, there were two men not arrested.  One was Ioway Jenks, the other is one of the men sitting over there, Micah Teeter.  It’s not Teeter that botherin’ me, but the other man.  Teeter said his name was Frank Upton, and that doesn’t ring a bell, but there’s something about him that is vaguely familiar.”

     I finished my coffee, then stood up.  After putting on my coat, I grabbed the Greener that had been leaning against the wall.  “Goin’ up to the office, I’ll see you later.”

     There was laughter as I passed by the table.  Before leaving the diner, I heard the voice of Teeter, “Goin’ to see if you can find my pretty face on a poster?”  Then both men laughed again.

     I didn’t bother turning but went on out the door and up the street to the jail.  Charlie just happened to be in, Lucas was in the process of sweeping out the cells when I entered.  “Charlie, I need to see your posters.  Micah Teeter is eating down at the diner, along with a man goin’ by the name of Frank Upton.”

     He went to his office to retrieve the stack of posters and I glimpsed at those on the board behind Mateo’s desk.  I didn’t expect to see either Teeter or Upton there, but by chance I still looked.  Charlie came out, giving me half the stack while he began to look through the others.

     “Teeter, that brings back memories.  Coward, if I recall, ran from his friends,” remarked Charlie.  

     Lucas finished his work, then came over to help us sort the posters.  “Senor, I remember this Teeter fellow.  I was very young then.”

     I glanced at Charlie, then turned my attention to Lucas.  He had indeed grown.  If it was five years ago, he would have been around thirteen when the incident happened.  It was Lucas who possibly saved the life of Darnelle during the bank holdup.  We get so caught up in life that we often don’t see what’s right in front of us.  

     We’d been at the chore of looking through the posters.  I was getting ready to get up and go to send Marshal Blasco a telegram when through the entrance burst, Darnelle, all flustered…

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven…  A time to cry and a time to laugh.  A time to grieve and a time to dance.  A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.  A time to embrace and a time to turn away.”  –Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4-5 (NLT)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

     With the shotgun ready I took tentative steps forward towards where the voice came from.  It was quiet…very quiet.  I could hear only the crunching of the ice under my feet as I moved.  There was that ominous warning, so I moved warily.  Suddenly I stopped, looking down I saw a lump of a man lying in the snow, slush, and ice.  Moving close enough that I could nudge the body with the barrel of the Greener; I poked at him.  No movement, no sound.

     I bent down to examine the body.  It was Barnes and he was dead.  Standing back I turned to look back down the alleyway.  “Doc!  Come on up!”

     Doc scurried up the alley to where I was standing.  It was hard to see in the darkness, the only light was coming from above as we were between two buildings.  Doc stooped to get closer to the body.  Quickly he withdrew his hand.  It was covered in blood.

     “Help me turn him over,” he ordered.

     Squeezing by Doc, I moved down to the feet of Barnes.  When he nodded we lifted to turn the body over.  “Hard to see here, but it looks as if one of those pieces of buckshot hit his jugular.  I’m thinking the running pushed the lead into the vein which caused him to bleed out.”

     “So if he hadn’t run, he might have lived?” I questioned.

     “Possible.  Hard to know.  If the shot had already penetrated, probably not, but if it hadn’t I could have picked it out,” he paused as he stood.  “Let’s go ahead and drag him out.”

     That meant me as there was no room for two men to walk side by side.  I handed Doc the shotgun, then picked up Barnes’ heels and began to pull him about ten yards to the entrance of the alley.  Coming to the light, I stopped to peer around the buildings making sure the way was clear.

     “I’ll go get Parker, if you want to stay with the body,” he muttered then took off before I could object.

     While waiting for Doc and the undertaker Parker to arrive I tried to work the situation in my mind.  First, I was beaten, then Molly attacked.  Then this random shooting, killing, seemingly one of the men who was out to get me.  “Lord,” I whispered, “you have to help me work through this.”  

     It must be some sort of vendetta or retribution.  But who…?

     An hour later, Doc was sitting with me in the diner joined by Charlie Gold.  As we all sipped our coffee, I looked over at Charlie.  “Do you know anything about Mick Barnes?”

     “As I recall, he showed up in late summer, maybe August, and went to work for the Broken Drum,” he paused to take a swallow.  “I couldn’t say if there is any connection between him and Dixon or not.”

     “Well, I’ll start there,” I muttered and started to get up.

     “Hold on, Miles.  Let me go talk with him.  You don’t have the best relations with the Broken Drum,” said the Sheriff.  “And I’ll let Mateo know what happened when he comes on duty.  I know he was out late last night putting down a couple of barroom brawls.”

     He stood, donned his coat and headed on out.  Doc was scratching the side of his face, then muttered, “So you don’t have any idea?”

     Shaking my head, I replied, “Could be any number of people.  I’ve made a few enemies in my time.”

     “Anyone just released from prison?” he suggested.

     “I’ll send a telegram to Canon City, and also Blasco.  They may give some light on who it might be.”

     We sat there in silence for a few minutes; I refreshed our coffee.  Then the sound of the door opening caught my attention.  That’s why I always sat where I did, so I could see who came in the entrance.

     One of the men I hadn’t seen in several years, but I didn’t recognize the other man.  He hadn’t changed much, except to look more surly than in my past dealings with him.  It was…