The Saga of Miles Forrest

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
So, you’re sure that’s the course you want to take?” questioned Doc Jones.
       We had just finished a breakfast of biscuits and gravy with a couple of fried eggs on top.  Emelda had also fried up some bacon for us.  Charlie had gone back up to Silverton on today’s train.  He wanted to check on the situation and see those who were wounded, on both sides of the fight.  Joe Hoskins said that he would personally take charge helping those who were injured.  Dr. Mort Sjaster had moved to Silverton taking the place of Wilbur Webb who had a questionable death.  Terrell Davenport, a veterinarian, had been the acting doctor.  Judge Broomfield would be here sometime in late January, depending on the weather and would hear the case.  Our county judge, Judge Klaser, thought that the case had federal implications.
       “I’m sure leanin’ that way, Doc,” I replied to his earlier question.  
       “That will be quite a change for you,” he said, pausing to take a sip of coffee.  “Miles, I think you better go slow and think this thing through very carefully.”
       “Doc, I’ve always wanted to raise some horses, maybe a few head of cattle.  Maybe this is the time to do so.  I still owe a wild horse hunt over in Utah to Lot Smith.  I could follow up on it.  Besides, every time I go out to hunt an outlaw there’s always a chance I won’t come back.  You’ve seen the scars on my body, and there’s plenty more unseen ones,” I said placing a fist on my chest.
       Doc scratched the side of his face.  “Have you stopped to think that every time you ride a horse, you could get throwed and break your neck?  Or you could be riding along a trail and your horse stumble and fall crushing you underneath.  Or a rattler could scare it and the horse could throw you breaking your back?  Why, just walking across the street, you could get run over by a buckboard out of control.”
       “Yeah, yeah, I know all of that.  Maybe I’m just weary.”
       The doctor scratched underneath his chin this time.  “Take a break.  Take Molly to Santa Fe or Denver.”
       “We just came back from Denver, and she didn’t care much for the place,” I informed him.  “Let me go see if there’s some pie in the kitchen.”
       I got up, walked to the kitchen where I found some custard pie, and one piece of butterscotch.  I cut a piece of the custard, and would give Doc the choice.  Either one would be fine with me, but I would much prefer the butterscotch.  As I was walking back to the table with the pie, Molly walked through the door, or I should say, sauntered.  She was happy, and carrying a large grin on her face.
       “Well, that’s done,” she said as she removed her coat hanging it on the back of her chair.  She took the scarf off her hair and laid it on top of the coat, then proceeded to use her fingers to puff up her hair some.
       I placed the pie on the table, then went to get the coffeepot.  I grabbed a cup for Molly on the way, and filled it, then poured fresh coffee in our cups.  Doc looked at me, then to Molly.  “What’s done?”
       “I just came back from seeing Lester Morris.  Judge Klaser referred me to him,” she replied, before taking a drink of her coffee.  She arched an eyebrow at me along with a slight scowl right after she swallowed.
       “Morris, the lawyer?  What for?
       “There are some plans in the making for the new year.  I’ve decided…”

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Well, at least you made it back before Christmas,” stated Molly firmly.  She looked at myself and Charlie, both us a little dilapidated sitting by the fire.  She arched her eyebrow and continued.  “Don’t look like you’ll be much use tomorrow for the Christmas dinner.  I don’t think there will be as many as there were on Thanksgiving.”
       Charlie and I came back on the last train out on Christmas Eve.  It was late when we got back to the station.  I helped Charlie to his home, then trudged on up to our cabin.  I had to bang on the door several times before Molly got up to answer it.  Sometimes when she gets to sleep there’s almost nothing that will wake her.  The cabin felt warm and cozy after being in that rail car for several hours, then out in the cold and snow taking Charlie home, then sludging through it to get home.  I added a couple more logs to the fire and sat down in front of it, slowly taking off my boots and outer clothes.
       “Want me to boil some water?  I’ll make some tea,” exhorted Molly as she went to the barrel to get water for the kettle.
       “Tea?” I questioned, but then decided it sounded good.  “Yes, tea sounds good.”  I’m normally a coffee drinker whenever it’s available, but once in a while a cup of tea hits the spot.  I was shivering when the water started to boil, I added another log to build up the fire.  The cold had worked its way into my bones it seemed.
       “You look a fright.  Let me get some cloth and clean you up some,” she offered, then went to light up the two lamps in the room.  “It was bad, then?”
       I hadn’t felt my bruises, because I was so cold, but when she put the cloth she had wetted on the gash on my brow, I winced.  “Be still, there’s dirt in there, I need to clean it out.”  Out gently as she knew how she began to wash out my injury.  “How’s Charlie?  I do hope you brought him home, Marta has been in a tizzy.”
       “He’ll make out.  He was already injured when I arrived.  I found him on a cot in a vacant warehouse that was being used by miners and their families.  He had dislocated his left shoulder and was thumped on the head by someone, but he was conscious and not bleedin’ anywhere.”
       “Want to talk about it?” she asked.  “They really didn’t evict those poor people just before Christmas and in this horrible weather,” she wondered out loud, not really asking a question.
       I gave her a sorta smile before answering.  “Well?  What happened?”
       “When I arrived, I was taken to Charlie.  There had been a struggle.  It seems that Hoskins and that lawyer, Wilson, had hired a bunch of thugs to clear out the houses.  There was quite a fight; Charlie tried to put it down when he was slugged on the head with a blackjack.  Welsh miner by the name of Bryn Evans brought me the contract to the house,” I said to stop so I could take several sips of the hot tea.  Molly had been able to put just a dab of honey in it.  My bones were beginning to warm up.
       “There was a clause that read that if the miners were fired or laid off, that they didn’t have to leave their homes for ninety days.”
       “But you said, they were forced out!” she interrupted.

       Lifting the cup to my mouth I took a long swallow this time as it had cooled off some.  “The next mornin’ I went to see Hoskins regarding the contract and was met by a couple of burly men, not miners, but hired men used to fightin’.  They let me in to see Hoskins when I showed them my marshal’s badge.  That weasel Wilson was there with him.  I told them about the clause, but all Wilson did was laugh.  He said, ‘that’s intended just like it said, for men fired or laid off, not for those who quit their jobs.'”
       I took another swallow emptying the cup.  “Molly, it took all I could to not slap him silly.  Some folk are just an irritant, and he was one of them.  Hoskins hadn’t said anything, and every time he tried he was shut down by Wilson, reminding him that he spoke for the owners.  He followed me out of the office, and as I stood between the two burly men I told him, that I was allowin’ the miners to go back to their homes until a court could decide the issue.”
       “‘Marshal, this doesn’t concern the federal system.  Don’t try to put those miners back in those houses!’ which sounded like a threat to me.  I happened to notice him noddin’ so I jammed the barrel of the Greener as hard as I could into the gut of one of the brutes, then brought the stock up catchin’ the other one under the chin, he fell hard off the steps.”
       “More tea?” she asked as she reached for my cup.  I nodded, then continued with the story.
       “I went back to gather the families to tell them to move back in when a miner came runnin’ into the warehouse.  ‘Marshal, they’re comin’ for yuh!’  I checked the loads in the Greener then my pistol.  I told the miners to stay in the warehouse, that I’d take care of the situation.”
       “What I hadn’t counted on was a couple of dozen, hardcases comin’ my direction with Lawyer Wilson in the lead.  I started toward them and noticed that Charlie was up next to me.  I told him to go back that he was in no condition, but he said that his right arm wasn’t hurt.  I smiled at him, and we went to meet them ready to smite them hip an’ thigh which we ended up doin’.”
       Molly handed me the cup full of tea.  It was a little sweeter this time as she had set the honey jar next to the fireplace and it had softened considerably.  “I’m tired,” I informed her.
       “Miles Forrest, you’re not stopping until you tell the rest of the story!”
       “I lifted the Greener and the crowd stopped.  A double-barrel shotgun will have that effect.   I told them to go home, told them of the situation, the contract.  They didn’t care.  They were hired by Wilson in lieu of the owners.  Molly, I warned them, I sincerely did.  I even told Wilson that he would face the first blast from the Greener.  He hollered, ‘Shoot them down!’  My first barrel caught him and those next to him about chest-high.  Gun-firing had commenced, and I hadn’t realized that the miners hadn’t obeyed my order for they were behind me shootin’ back at the thugs.  I cut loose with the second barrel then pulled my pistol after droppin’ the shotgun.  From then on it was ‘Katy-bar-the-door’; it was mayhem.  When all was done, probably close to ten people were dead and several others injured.  I saw movement from Wilson which surprised me.  He raised his arm as I approached.  His eyes were glassy, as he opened his mouth, but nothin’ came out, he died lookin’ up at me.”
       I handed Molly my cup.  “Could you get a blanket for me, please.  I’m still cold,” I said looking into her face.  “The good Lord was sure protectin’ me and Charlie.  Neither of us caught a bullet, and the miners are back in their homes.  Joe Hoskins agreed to meet with Bryn Evans to discuss what might be done.
       She covered my shoulders with a blanket, then put her hands on top of them…

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
I was at the depot when the train finally arrived from Silverton.  It had been five days clearing snow before it could make it; the telegraph wires hadn’t been repaired as of yet.  I was hoping to meet Charlie Gold, but instead I was given a message from him.  “Need Help!”  The train was filling up with supplies to take back to Silverton since the people had been stranded for a week.
       When I read the message I hurried back to the cabin to throw my gear together.  The weather had warmed up some and the streets were getting sloppy from snow melting to slush.  It would take a while for the accumulation to go away and in the meantime it would be a mess.  I had a bag filled with things I might need and plenty of ammunition for my pistol and shotgun.
       There was time before the train would pull out but I felt in a hurry.  After getting my gear I rushed down to the diner.  Molly saw at an instant that something was wrong.  
       “Oh, Miles, now?” she said with some despair.  “It’s almost Christmas.”
       Sighing deeply as I poured a cup of coffee from the stove I answered.  “Charlie needs my help.  I don’t know what’s wrong or what’s happened, just that he needs me.”
       “Sit down, you have time to eat.  I’ll fix up some sandwiches for you to take along as well,” she informed me and understood the need for me to go.  
       She went back to the kitchen while I sat there sipping on my coffee.  All kinds of thoughts were racing through my mind.  What could have happened?  All Charlie was doing was to check into the mine situation and stop any action the owners might take against those who walked off.
       I smiled when I saw what she brought me.  It couldn’t have been better for the trip; a plate full of biscuits and sausage gravy with sliced peppers in it.  It would fill me up.
       “Eat!” she ordered.  “I’ll go fix you a lunch to take with you.”
        Molly hugged me before I left, saying, “You best be back by Christmas.”
       “That’ll be the plan,” I assured her, then picked up my gear and shotgun heading for the station.
       Within the hour I was aboard the train and waiting for it to get on the way.  There was only one passenger car as they added an extra freight car.  I was amazed at how quickly they had gotten the supplies together and loaded.  The passenger car was empty except for me and a couple of miners.  Most were not wanting to venture out in the weather this close to Christmas.  
       As we wound up the canyon all I could see was white.  Everything was covered with snow.  I could see how they had trouble getting the snow off the track and the engine went about half the speed.  It would be well into the evening before arriving in Silverton.  At least I saw that the clouds were clearing, but that meant that the temperatures would drop.  It could get down to zero or lower up in the high country.  I was getting soft.
       There was no way for me to let Charlie know that I was coming.  I was counting on him knowing that I would be on my way.  Molly was to tell Mateo and Lucas the situation as far as either of us knew it.  Mateo would have come if not for his responsibility in Durango as town marshal.  He and Lucas along with his two boys were making sure that the widows and elderly had plenty of wood to get them through this time and that they had a way to walk out of their homes to town if needed.
       As evening approached and the sun went on down behind the mountains I could feel the cold begin to creep in.  “Brrr,” I thought.  When we finally rolled into the station Charlie wasn’t there but a man, who appeared to be a miner came up asking if I was Marshal Forrest and I was to follow him.
       The snow there was much deeper and there wasn’t much being done by the people in town to help the situation.  Most of them were staying inside, trying to keep warm.  I followed the man to what looked like a small warehouse.  Upon entering I felt a little warmth as there was a stove in the center of the room with cots around it.  
       There, in the midst of the cots, was Charlie.  He was…

 

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
The snow was still falling hard and fast, at least the wind wasn’t blowing hard or it would be a real blizzard.  I looked back over my shoulder to see if Molly was still following me.  I was riding Hawk and we were blazing a trail through the deep snow so that Molly could get to the diner.  I had my doubts if anyone would be out, but if so it would be a refuge for those who did venture out in the snow.
       A person who didn’t know it was Molly behind me would have thought it some kind of animal following me.  She was all bundled up in coats and blankets.  Thankfully Hawk didn’t mind real bad that he had to get out of his stall and help me.  The train had made it to Silverton, but it was stuck there until who knows when and the telegraph lines were down also.  It was a real humdinger of a storm.
       I tied Hawk to the post at the back of the diner else he might try to go back to his stall and threw some hay out for him.  I’d get him back shortly, but wanted to help Molly get the stoves going.  She’d put on a stew and coffee for anyone who might be out.  It was cold inside the diner; Molly went to the range in the kitchen and I got a fire going in the stove in the eating area.  Soon the room began to warm and there were coffeepots going on both stoves.
       While Molly was working in the kitchen, I went around to light the lamps and candles.  If the weather wasn’t so bad it would have been kinda cozy.  “Miles, see if you can shovel out front,” came her voice from the kitchen.  I went to the front door, scraped away the frost to peer outside.  There was no way I would be able to open the door from the diner so I headed back to put on my coat and out the back door with a shovel that was sitting next to the woodpile.
       For the next hour I worked on clearing the walkway in front of the diner and then a path out to the street.  Looking up and down the streets I didn’t see any of the other businesses open except there were lights on at Solly’s, but he had an apartment above the store.  Way down the street I did see Moses Vexler out trying to get the door open to the livery.  I hadn’t seen snow like this since the time I spent the winter up north of Meeker helping Juanita and her mother through the winter.  
       With that thought I stopped for a moment to rest on the shovel.  I hadn’t thought of her and that winter for a long time.  I referred to it as the winter of the wolves, and a lot of other things.  It was rough going that winter with the snow, the wolves, and the extreme cold temperatures.  Right now I couldn’t recall their names, but I had to kill some renegade men.  That was also the time I made friends with Lot Smith.  I gave a grunt thinking that I still hadn’t got over to see him to hunt wild horses.
       “Miles, hurry up or you’ll be frozen to that shovel,” the sound of Molly’s voice broke into my thoughts.  “Finish up and get back inside!”
       From what I could see I was finished.  I wasn’t about to shovel the road, nor the whole boardwalk.  Enough was good enough so I headed back to the diner, this time going through the front entrance.  I put the shovel over in the corner at the front entrance as I reckoned I’d probably need it again then headed back to pour me a cup of coffee.
       Molly came to join me so I filled her a cup up as well.  We both sat close to the stove and I added another log to it.  “I’ve got some biscuits in the oven; when they’re ready I’ll make some gravy.  We might as well enjoy our coffee.”
       “I’ll eat breakfast then take Hawk back up to the stable.  He’ll be wantin’ to eat as well.  It’s one thing to stand in the cold when sheltered, another altogether out in the open.  At least the snow is keeping the temperature from fallin’ too low, but when it stops it could get down around freezin’.”
       We sat and chatted for quite a spell when Molly got up to get the biscuits.  Right as she left, the door opened and Doc Jones walked in.  “Smelled them, did yuh?” I asked.
       “Smelled what?  Oh, the biscuits…” he replied coming to the table and taking off his coat.  “Ever seen a snow like this in December?”
       “It’s bad, but at least not terrible cold,” I remarked.
       We stared at each other holding the hot coffee cups in our hands.  I think we were both thinking the same thing when Doc remarked.  “I wonder how much snow they are getting up in Silverton?”  What he really meant was, “I wonder if Charlie is all right?”
       “It will definitely be a lot more than here,” I replied, then stood to refill my cup from the pot on the stove.  “I’m going to check on Marta right after breakfast.”
       I had just filled my cup and set down when Molly came out with two plates filled with biscuits and sausage gravy.  “Thought I heard Doc out here.  I suppose you already ate,” she said teasing him with a plate letting it linger near him.
       “Stop it Molly, and put that plate down!”  She placed it in front of him then went back to fill a plate for herself.
       We had almost finished eating when the door opened and two bundled up creatures walked in.  They looked our direction then walked on over to the next table from us that was close to the stove.  Worn out, out of work miners from the looks of them as they began to unwrap themselves.  Molly was already getting them coffee…