The Saga of Miles Forrest

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
I had just come from sending a telegram to Felix Wilcox, the U.S. Marshal for the New Mexico/Arizona Territory.  I wanted him to know about the robbery and that the outlaws were headed for New Mexico.  Since they had quite an abundance of money I would expect them to head for one of the larger towns so they could spend some of it.  When they came to town I went through the wanted posters and didn’t find one that matched any of them…but I knew their faces.
       Walking in the diner I went to the stove for a last cup of coffee.  The snow was falling and it was going to be cold on the trail.  I hoped it didn’t snow too much to wipe out their trail.  Five riders wouldn’t be too hard to track.  Molly was standing outside the kitchen, and put her arms on my chest so I wouldn’t go in.  I hadn’t planned on it, but I could hear Marta and Charlie arguing.
       “You don’t have to go!” she almost screamed.  “It is out of your jurisdiction!”
       “Not until they go into New Mexico, but that doesn’t make a difference.  They robbed a bank here in Durango.  Durango, our home.  They desecrated our home and the lives of our friends, I have to go.  Don’t you see?”
       “No!” she spat.  “I don’t see.”
       I could hear the exasperation in Charlie’s voice.  “Marta, I don’t want to leave with us arguing.”
       “What is it that you want then Sheriff?  A kiss like Molly and Miles.  Bah…” she turned away from him sobbing.  “Leave, go your way.”
       Molly and I hurried from the door, we didn’t want them to think we were eavesdropping.  We just happened to be standing there and overheard their discussion.
       I poured another cup standing next to Molly.  She had a burlap bag with some sandwiches in it for us.  I picked it up and we waited for Lucas to bring the horses by.  It would take him a few minutes.  Charlie kept his gear at the livery while mine was up at the cabin.  Lucas would make sure we had everything we needed for the trip.
       An hour after the robbery we were ready to mount and hit the trail.  Molly gave me a hug and a kiss and I could feel the eyes of Charlie on us.  “Be careful, Miles.  Go with God,” encouraged Molly as we stepped out into the cold.
       Neither of us said anything as we headed on the road that headed south of town.  Darkness was moving in early because of the snow.  The days were shorter anyhow and I hoped to make it as far as the ruins.  I was getting to know them fairly well, it would be my third time through them in the past year or so.  
       When we came upon the ridge that would lead us down to the I raised my hand for us to stop.  “Do you see anything?” I asked as dusk was upon us.
       Charlie leaned out over the head of his horse, as if that would allow him to see things more clearly then shook his head.
       “I thought I saw some light.  Keep watch.  This would be a good place for them to hold up, especially if one of them is wounded,” I said then gave Hawk a nudge.
       Navajo had used these adobes, but I heard stories that they were here even before the Navajo.  It would have been a substantial community, but now all that was left were walls and broken pottery laying here and there.  There was no water that I knew of so we had a dry camp watering the horses out of our canteens.  Tomorrow we would find water so I went ahead and got the coffee ready while Charlie was putting together a fire.  He kept it small, just large enough for the coffeepot.  I didn’t think it would hurt to have it a bit larger as it was going to get cold during the night, but I could understand his caution, especially if the men we were chasing were somewhere in the ruins.
       We sat close to the fire, sipping the hot coffee.  Our collars were turned up on our coats to keep the cold breeze from going down our necks.  Charlie hadn’t said a word, except maybe a grunt or two.  I knew where his mind was.
       “It’s goin’ to be cold tonight,” I muttered trying to get conversation started.
       All I received was a grunt.  “Miles, how did you get Molly to accept your job?” he blurted out of the blue.  “I suppose you heard Marta in the kitchen.  I don’t know what to do.”
       “Pray about it,” I said calmly.  “If you can talk without fighting, tell her your feelin’s.”
       Charlie threw the remains of his coffee up against a wall.  “That’s part of the problem.  She doesn’t want to talk about it.  If I bring it up, she yells, or walks off in a huff.”
       I pulled the pot off the fire, stirred it up some and placed a branch on it.  The wood caught quickly and flamed up.  I wasn’t going to add any more and that wouldn’t last.  It would give us enough light that we could get inside our bedrolls.
       The snow had stopped and for that I was thankful, but that meant that the temperature most likely would drop.  When morning came it would be cold.  I made sure that there was plenty of wood for the fire in the morning.  
       Laying on my back I looked up in the cloud covered sky.  “Lord, be helping Charlie and Marta,” I muttered.  “They’re good friends and I don’t know how to help.”

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Marta was standing outside the back of the diner, head bowed with her chin in one hand.  “Marta,”
       “Molly, not now,” she snapped, lifting her head but gazing straight ahead.
       “All right, but at least put on a coat.  You’ll catch your death of cold out here,” came Molly’s soft reply.  She then turned going back inside the diner.  When she came back to the diner she gave me a shrug then picked up the coffeepot to refill the ruffian’s cups.  A few minutes later Marta came over to the table where Doc and I were still sitting.  Most of my attention was focused on the men at the table.  I knew in my gut that they were trouble.  It wasn’t until Marta pulled out a chair and sat beside me at the table that my attention went to her.
       She laid her hand on my arm, “Doc, Senor Miles, you are my dear friends,” she paused to heave a sigh.  “I am struggling, please bear with me.”
       When I looked at her she had tears in her eyes.  Taking my arm from under her hand I reached around her to give her a hug.
       “Whoooeee!” came a voice from the table of men.  “I’ll take some of that.”
       I was ready to jump to my feet, but Molly had already taken care of the man for there was a loud yelp with him jumping from the table.  It seemed that Molly spilled some of the hot coffee on him.  He was ready to grab for her when a man at the table yelled, “Clem, sit yourself down!  You had it coming.  You just can’t keep your mouth shut.”  I watched the quick interaction between the two men.
       The one called, Clem, sat down wiping out his wet trousers.  He glared at Molly, “I’ll see you again,” he snarled.  “You best hope I’m not blistered.”
       It was time for me to get involved.  I leaped to my feet and was over to their table in a few strides positioning myself next to the man.  “Mister,” I said, nudging him with the Greener of which he took notice as did the other four men.  “You want to hang on to your teeth, you best not go ’round threatenin’ ladies.”
       “Yeah, and if…” 
       I raised the Greener ready to swing it when what must have been the head man, told him to settle down.  “Mister,” he stammered some, looking for a name to call me.
       “I apologize for my friend here.
       My eyes went to the man speaking and I nodded.  “See that you do.”
 
       Thursday was a great day.  I don’t know where all those miners and cowboys came from, but they filled the diner over and over.  It was a good thing that Cecil Thompson brought over a steer he slaughtered to help us out for the feast.  I think he must have brought his whole crew.  I was kinda surprised to see Keim there.  He came to thank me for taking care of Shaw.  He pointed to a man who was limping; it was the first time I’d seen Parson’s since he’d been shot.  “Bronc-ridin’ is over for him, but he can still sit in the saddle.”
       Darnelle, true to her word, had her uncle down to the diner.  Wilson was smiling so much that the tears came when people began to gather around him.  Wishing him well.  I think Elizabeth was overwhelmed as well.  I would look from time to time but the Newsomes never showed up.  I wished they had.  These people held nothing against them, and if they were here they would have seen that.
       We put Wilson to work taking donations.  Since Molly had been doing this for years all the money taken in would be given to Parson Chapman’s church.  He said he planned on sharing it with the other church in town.  Mateo and family all came and because of that several from the barrio decided to join with us.  It was a grand time, the eating, and fellowship.  The Parson led those in the diner in several songs.  People came and went and it was a good day.
       Edith had taken Molly’s place, giving her some relief.  She came over to where I was standing and I put my arm around her.  I pointed out Charlie to her, helping Marta dish out chili.  They were smiling and laughing, nudging each other while they were serving.  I was just getting ready to tell Molly something when there was an explosion that rattled the windows.
       I grabbed the Greener and ran out not thinking about the cold.  There was smoke coming a block or two south of the diner.  Mateo and Charlie were right behind me as we ran.  It was the bank.  We got there as we saw five riders mounting up and heading out of town.  This was a time I wished I had my rifle rather than a shotgun.  One man stopped, turned his horse and fired at us, the bullets not coming close.
       We entered the bank noticing the destruction.  I saw some blood on the side of the counter, and I prayed that it was not someone connected to the bank.  Thankfully we found no bodies, so I figured the blood must be from one of the robbers.  They set too high a charge and weren’t expecting the blast.  Lucas was right next to me.  Placing my hand upon his shoulder, “Go saddle Hawk and your Uncle’s horse.  Bring them down to the diner.”
       It was then I shivered since I didn’t have on my coat.  It was cold and beginning to snow…

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on

Thursday promised to be a grand day.  Several men had been out hunting so there was plenty of venison, elk, and even bear for the meal.  Maybe some time someone would take a notion to start a turkey farm, but until then we’ll continue to eat wild game.  I remember a few times I was fortunate enough to shoot some grouse and prepared them for the Thanksgiving table.
       “You gonna sit and day-dream all day?” came the voice of Doc Jones that brought me back to reality.  I was warm and comfortable sitting by the stove and drinking coffee.  Maybe I was getting too comfortable for my age and should be out sleeping in the cold, freezing near to death.  Nah, did that too many times, I think I’ll choose comfort, but don’t want to forget where the Lord has brought me from. 
       “I think I saw those miscreants you mentioned around town,” he uttered, rubbing his chin.  “You want to know what I think?  I think they’re up to no good.  You better keep an eye on them.”
       He didn’t give me a chance to answer his question, but when he finished I replied.  “Doc, that’s just speculation.  Jumpin’ to conclusions.”  But I knew he was right.  “I told Charlie and Mateo about them.  They’re aware of the situation.  Besides, what do you want me to do?
       “Nothin’!” he roared.  “Just sit there and drink your coffee!”
       Molly happened to come by when Doc went on his tirade.  “Doc, what’s rilin’ you?”
       His face turned grim.  “This town.  They won’t hire a good marshal.  They won’t hire Miles here, and then I get all worked up and take it out on him,” he said, then paused to look at me.  “Miles, I’m sorry…but I’ll tell you this, something’s going to happen.”
       Molly smiled, then asked me.  “Did you ask John and Jewelene to come over Thursday?  And…”
       “And yes, I talked with Wilson and Elizabeth.  He said he would have to think it over.  It might depend upon the weather,” I informed her.  “I went to see Darnelle tellin’ her that I wanted them to be our special guests and I didn’t want Wilson to be makin’ any excuses.”
       “For that, husband of mine, you get a kiss,” she looked around to make sure there weren’t any customers watching, then pecked me on the cheek.

       There was a groan from Doc, “Come on you guys, cut the mush.”
       “Lucas and Mateo have already told me that they would personally carry Wilson down to the diner,” I said with a laugh. 
       Doc joined in, “I would almost pay to see that.”
       We were enjoying laughing when Marta came by.  “Is that all you’re going to do all day, sit around and laugh while I do all the work?” she asked smartly.
       The eyebrows on Doc’s face raised when he heard the smart remark from Marta.  “Why no, Marta,” replied Molly.  “What is it that I can help you with?  I notice that there is only one table with customers.  Is that too much for you to handle?”
       Daggers shot from Marta’s eyes.  She threw the washcloth she was carrying over her shoulder then stomped off to the kitchen.  Molly was shaking her head.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  She and Charlie are still fighting over the fact that he is sheriff and is now planning on resigning.  Then throw Lucas into the mix.”
       “What do we do?” asked Doc seriously.  
       Molly reached over the table to take Doc by the hand.  “Pray, Doc, pray…and be her friend.”
       I saw Doc wink at her and nod when the door blasted open and the hardcases walked in finding a table next to the window.  Molly hastened to her feet then headed to their table.  The men were chattering when she approached to take their order.  I watched while each of them gave their order, but noticed that two were leering at Molly.  Doc was watching as well and I heard him grunt in disgust.  Molly left to grab cups from the counter taking them back to the table, then went to retrieve the coffeepot to fill their cups.
       She was moving around the table, doing her job when I saw one of the men pat her backside.  Molly stopped, “You try something like that again and you’ll feel this hot pot against the side of your face,” she hissed.  Glancing my way, she shook her head letting me know that she had it under control.
       To try and calm the situation she asked, “You gentlemen in town on business, looking for work?”
       That brought a laugh from one man, “You could say we’re passing through on the way to a job.”
       She continued to banter with them asking.  “What kind of work are you in?  You don’t look like cowpunchers to me.”
       The same man started to reply when the one facing me, who had a granite face, jabbed him in the ribs.  “Ma’am just bring our food.”
       He had caught me staring at them, our eyes met and held for several seconds as Molly left for the kitchen.  Finally he turned to join in the conversation at the table.  There was no more talk when minutes later Molly brought their food.  After serving them, she came by the table.  “I’m going out back.  Marta’s not in the kitchen…”

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
I had just come out of the sheriff’s office from helping Lucas set up a room.  There was a shed attached to the jail where the door opened up to the cells.  It was large enough to place a cot.  Lucas brought his things from Marta’s house, much to her chagrin and moved into the jail.   Charlie told her that he was old enough to make his own decision about that, but then again he ought not to be going home expecting free meals either.  Marta finally agreed to a sort of compromise.
       Mateo had put a couple of drunks in cells last night and had given Lucas instructions to let them out just before the noon meal.  If they wanted to drink up their money, they could waken for breakfast or forgo eating until evening.  As I stepped out in the snow that was lightly falling I thought about going into the army when I was about the same age as Lucas.  Marta should be thanking the Lord that he wasn’t going off to fight a war.
       Looking up the street I saw Darnelle out sweeping off the boardwalk.  The saloon not far from her store had snow covering the walk and it was partly snow partly slush.  Newsome’s store was open, for which I was glad.  I hadn’t been over to talk with him since he sequestered himself after losing the election.
       I started walking down the boardwalk toward Darnelle who had finished sweeping.  She looked up toward the road that went on down to New Mexico and seeing her look up my gaze followed.  There were five riders coming our way.  From the looks of them they weren’t cowboys and for sure not miners.  They rode loose in the saddle, their hats pulled down low.  The ones to the back were looking around at the stores and one stopped to leer at Darnelle.  By that time I had reached Darnelle.  I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.  
       “Better get on down the road, or you might get lost,” I said then pointed with my head.
       He winced when I spoke, then smiled, tipping his hat to Darnelle and trotted off to catch up with his companions.
       “There’s trouble,” stated Darnelle.  She shivered, “It’s cold, I’m going back inside.”
       I touched her arm as she passed, stopping her.  “Have you talked with Mr. Newsome?”
       “No, neither he or Jewelene have said anything.  I’ve noticed they haven’t  had customers.  Miles, what’s wrong with them?  It’s not like it’s the end of the world, losing a city election,” she said shivering.
       “Go on in, Darnelle.  You’ll catch cold standin’ out here.  I’ll tell if I hear anything of importance,” I offered then started off across the street to Newsome’s Ladies’ Wear.
       Upon entering the store I saw immediately that it was void of customers.  At first I didn’t see John sitting in a darkened corner in the back of the room.  “John!” I hollered, “You got a customer.”
       I heard the chair scratch against the wooden floor as he got up.  Walking toward me I saw a disparaging smile on his face.  “Come to gloat, Forrest?”
       “John, is that really what you think?  True, we’ve had some differences of opinion in the past, but that doesn’t stop our bein’ cordial or even friendly.”
       “Bah!” he growled.  “Do you intend to purchase something, or are you just wanting to waste my time?”
       I walked up to him and pointed my finger in his face.  “Do you enjoy havin’ a pity-party for yourself, is that it?  Why not think of all the things you and Wilson did to help this town get established?  Recognize that changes come, some for the better, others, well, others might not be so good, but they’re here just the same.”
       His face was red and I saw that he had his hands clenched down by his sides.  “Go ahead, John.  Hit me if’n yuh think that’ll make you feel better.  But it won’t for you’ve let a seed of bitterness begin to grow inside you,” I wasn’t angry or mad, but I felt a real pity for him.  
       Looking around I said, “I came to purchase a scarf for Molly.  Care to show me one?”
       We both stared at each other for several seconds, then he went off toward one counter.  I really wasn’t planning on buying one, but figured I needed to do something to diffuse the situation.  
       “Do you want it for dress or for warmth?” he asked, a little more friendly.
       “Warmth,” I replied, then pointed.  “How ’bout that red and black tartan?”
       As he picked it up to stretch it out, I inquired, “Have you been up to see Wilson?  He gets lonely, I’m sure he’d like to see you.”
       I could see him swallow.  He turned away for a second as there were tears in his eyes.  “Go see him,” I continued.  “It’ll do him, and you a world of good.”
       He wiped across his face with his arm, then turned toward me, the gruffness returning.  “Thirty cents, anything else?”
       Shaking my head, I answered, “That’ll do it.”  I unbuttoned my coat, reached in my vest pocket for my pouch of change.  I placed it on the counter, “Give my best to Jewelene,” I said then started for the door.
       I heard a cough, then he stuttered, “Miles, thanks.”
       I nodded then walked back out into the cold.  A ways down the street I saw the horses of the hardcases in front of Duffy’s Saloon.  Perhaps I should introduce myself…