I was sipping on my coffee as I sat near the fire that evening. The days had faded when I relished to be riding out, looking for adventure and excitement. Guess my days with Molly had quenched for the most part that yearning. It was nice to be on the trail, riding Hawk, and I didn’t really miss the comforts of home, but my goodness I did miss her. The stars were so bright that night, each one of them had a special twinkle. Ha, maybe that was God’s way of winking His eyes at us. Each twinkle a statement that says, “I’m watching out for you.” At least it was a comforting thought.

     Blasco had sent me to aid Felix Wilcox, the U.S. Marshal of the New Mexico/Arizona Territory. There had been plenty problems in Lincoln County that kept him busy, and he needed help as there were rustlers stealing cattle and selling them in Mormon country. It seems that the recipients of the goods sort of blinked at them being stolen.

     Molly made several hand-pies for me to take along. I saved the ham sandwich she made and fried up some bacon for supper and ate one of those pies—apricot it was. Hmm, maybe that was one of the things I missed, those special ways that she treated me. Off in the distance I could hear the howl of coyotes. As long as it wasn’t an old lobo wolf I didn’t mind. It brought to mind that one winter up near Meeker; that long, cold winter, when I seem to be fighting the wolves all the time.

     I had just placed the now empty cup on a rock by the fire, pulled the pot off the coals and laid back on my saddle. The coyote continued his soothing cacophony, if there is such a thing, and I could hear the faint trickling of the little brook near where my camp was. I barely closed my eyes when I heard something out in the brush. It could be nothing, just an animal moving to the stream for a drink. Then again it could be a two-legged varmint. I didn’t think it was Indians for they were pretty tame this far north in New Mexico, and it made too much noise for an Indian. It could be some miscreant from justice, waiting for me to go to sleep.

     My gun was out of my holster and in my hand pointing at the area where I heard the sound. When I cocked it, the sound seems to break the quietness of the night, and I heard a muffled voice. “Please, Senor Marshal. Don’t shoot; it’s Lucas.”

     Jumping to my feet, I hollered, “Lucas! Get yourself in here!” When he entered the camp I saw that he was leading Two-Bits. “I could have shot you! What are you doin’ here?”

I reached down to add a couple of branches I had broken up to the fire so I could see him better. “Does Charlie or Marta know you’re here?”

     “No, well, Si, they do,” he mumbled.

     “Lucas!”

     “I did leave them a note, telling them I was goin’ to find you,” he confessed. “Did I do wrong again?”

     I was fit to be tied. Lucas, what could he have been thinking? “Tomorrow, you go back!” I said in a huff.

     He sort of gave a sniffle, “But Senor, you would send me out all alone in the wilderness that is full of bandits and ruffians? No, it is better if I stay with you.”

     “I’ll mull it over some in my mind. Unsaddle and get your bedroll out,” I growled.

     “Si, Senor Marshal,” he replied then went to the chore of taking care of Two-Bits and getting his belongings. I was leaning back on my saddle watching him.

     “You know your sister is goin’ to have my hide the next time I see her. If’n it wasn’t for Molly I wouldn’t dare go home,” I said in consternation.

     He chuckled, which I was in no mood for and said, “Si, it will be something to see.”

     I gave a deep sigh. “There’s a little coffee in the pot; it’ll still be warm. Grab a sandwich, and one of those pies from my bag there. I’m goin’ to sleep.”

     He fussed around getting a cup, banging the tin on a rock while getting the coffee. Then I could hear him rummaging through the bag. I wanted to ignore him and sleep, but I just laid there. What had I been thinking about the stars twinkling? Ha, twinkling with laughter I expect. Marta is going to have a hissy-fit.

So you’ve got yourself a big mess on your hands,” stated Doc before sipping his coffee.
    I replied with a grim smile.  “Not yet, and it don’t have to be.”  I looked at Marta then over to Charlie who had returned yesterday from Silverton.
    Doc grunted, then took another sip.  “You know Ben Lowell ain’t going to let a horse thief get away.”
    “Well, I don’t blame him none for that.  I just don’t want to find they went out and hung a kid,” I remarked.
    The whole group was there this morning.  Business was slow in the diner so Molly and Marta were sitting with Doc Jones, Charlie and me. Lucas was there with us and he was part of my idea.
    Molly interrupted that last thought by asking Charlie if he had talked to Luciana.  “I went by there yesterday, as soon as I saw Marta to let her know that Mateo would be in Silverton at least two more weeks.  He’s doing a good job up there, and Mike Dewey up and left for parts unknown.  Big Bob Phillips is the new marshal.”
    That name perked up my ears.  “Bob Phillips!  I didn’t know he had any experience as a law officer.”
    A large grin appeared on Charlie’s face.  “Well, Marshal Forrest, we all have to learn sometime.”  That brought a laugh from all those sitting here.  I had hired Charlie and he had done quite well.  He had the knack for the job.  That’s part of it knowing what to do at the right time.  A person can’t go arresting everyone, but he can make his presence known.
    Bob had come to the region to make his fortune in gold or silver like so many of the other residents.  He didn’t like standing in the freezing water or digging through the frozen ground so he hired on as a freighter from Durango to Silverton, but the railroad had put most of that to a halt.  He did continue to haul freight to Telluride, but again the cold got to him.  I often wondered, since he wasn’t married why he just didn’t head off to Arizona Territory or California; It wasn’t cold there.
    “That’s one reason Mateo stayed.  Shy Williams is his deputy.  I don’t know much about him, but he seems to be working hard.  They really need a third man, but I don’t know if the town will pay for one.  The good Lord knows they have the money to do so,” said Charlie.  “Anyway, Luciana wasn’t real happy over the situation.”
    “She likes the money,” piped up Marta.  “But, he’s gone so much, she misses him as do the boys.  They are growing up so fast,” her eyes directed at Charlie.
    Doc grunted again, “Say Charlie, why don’t you put your name in for marshal here in Durango.  You know the town, and the people.”
    “One main reason–John Newsome.  He’s still on the city council.  Remember, he’s one of the two that wanted me out of the position before,” Charlie reminded him.
    Marta didn’t say anything, but got up taking her empty cup with her.  Molly must have sensed something so she got up as well.  “Doc, Charlie, would you like some pie?  How about you Lucas?” she said before following Marta.  
    The two men declined but Lucas’ eyes lit up, “Chocolate, please Senora.”
    “Chocolate it is.  You two sure you don’t want a piece?” she inquired again.
    I looked at her, “Say what about me?”
    Waving her hand at me she gave some kind of disgusted sound which I couldn’t quite make out.  “I know you want one!  No need to ask.”
    All I could do in response was to give a big smile.
    My attention went to Lucas.  “Do you know how old Fernando is?”
    He didn’t seem to hear me as his focus was on the large piece of pie in Molly’s hand.  She did bring me a piece, not quite so large.  Lucas and I looked at each other, both of us smiling.  He had chocolate, and I had a piece of apricot.  It was then I noticed my cup was empty so I pushed the chair back to get the pot.
    I filled my cup and then Charlie’s and Doc’s, then after putting the pot back on the stove.  “Lucas, you didn’t answer my question.”
    He kept eating, then looked up saying, “I would guess at least eighteen.”
    Forking a piece of pie in my mouth I began to chew.  When I swallowed, I asked Lucas, “Well, how old are you now, fifteen?”
    Turning his head suddenly in my direction, he blurted, “Sixteen almost seventeen!”
    “My, my, and you’ve had the experiences.  I’d like for you to go with me on a little trip.  I need some help in trackin’ down Fernando.”
    Charlie almost spluttered out his coffee.  “Miles, I don’t think Marta…”
    He didn’t finish for a big, solid man walked in the front of the diner.  He was wearing a worn brown vest, with brown pants that had little thin lines of white in them.  I noticed his gun, the holster was worn but well kept.  His face showed little emotion but it did have a determined look on it.  The big moustache on his face would rival mine.  
    Coming here meant trouble, it was U.S. Marshal Jeb Blasco.

As I walked out of Foster’s I heard shouting, “Where’s my horse!” came the angry voice.  “If’n someone’s playin’ a trick I’m not carin’ much for it!”  He looked at his two compadres.
    He went out into the street and began looking up and down.  Throwing his hands on his hips the frustration was apparent.  Looking back at his friends, “Where’s the marshal’s office?”
    “There ain’t no marshal, Lefty, he was killed a few days back,” stated one of his friends as he walked back to the boardwalk.
    “Then the sheriff.  I need my horse!” he exclaimed.
    I walked up to him and started to speak, when he spotted my badge.  “You the sheriff?  I want my horse, what are you doin’ about it?”
    “Now just simmer yurself,” I said.  “I’m not the sheriff, he’s up to Silverton currently.”
    The three of them looked at me, but the one called Lefty was surely puzzled.  “You’re wearin’ a badge, can’t you do something?  I’ve got to get back to the ranch, and that horse wasn’t rightly mine.”
    The other two stood there nodding in agreement.  I turned my attention to them.  “You fellas got a name?”
    One of them backed up a step when asked, but his partner spoke right up.  “Jed Fountain.”
    “And you?”
    “Uhh,” he slurred something.
    “Listen friend, all I asked for is your name.  You runnin’?”
    He lifted his chin, and blurted, “No sir, I, well, I did some time, and I know what some of you lawmen think of former inmates.”
    I sighed, “Your name.”
    “Link Doyle.”
    Staring at him, I looked hard, “Listen Mister, I don’t care much for your past if you’ve paid your dues, I’m interested in the way your walkin’ now, so get that chip off your shoulder.”
    “What I want to know is, what are you goin’ to do about my horse?” asked Lefty impatiently.
    I could understand his frustration and anger.  A man wasn’t much good around here without a horse, and now he was probably going to be in trouble with his boss.  He may get fired, but if he’s a good hand, more then likely will take it out of his pay.
    “Lefty, you got a last name?” I questioned.
    “Monroe,” he blurted quickly the frustration showing.
    “Well, Lefty, I’m a Deputy U.S. Marshal, and right now it’s out of my jurisdiction.  So, I’m goin’ to wait for the sheriff to get back and hand it over to him.”
    I watched him clench his fist.  “Why, by that time he could be down in New Mexico, or, or anywhere.”
    “Mister Lowell, ain’t gonna like you losin’ one of his horses,” spoke out Fountain.
    Lefty uttered an oath, then slapped his hat against his leg.  I could see he was a mite concerned over the situation, that was a good sign.
    “Let me tell you one thing, Lefty, that kind of prayer won’t get you much.  You ought to be askin’ the good Lord what to do next instead of cussin’, plus there’s women and youngsters present,” I informed him.  
    His eyes widened in surprise that I had chided him that way.  It almost brought a smile to him.
    I knew Bill Lowell, he was a good man.  He had a nice spread on Yellowjacket Creek on toward Pagosa.  He did most of his trade in Pagosa Springs, but lately he had been coming to Durango.  Bill took care of his men, and I didn’t think Lefty would get fired, but I also knew that he wouldn’t take kindly to his horse being stolen.
    The three men just stood there, then Lefty caught eye of Lucas.  Anger rose in him again, “Say, Kid, did you see who took my horse?”
    He took a step toward Lucas and I cut him off.  “Leave him alone.  He has already told me what he knows.”  
    I knew Lefty was just frustrated and he didn’t know what to do.  I placed my hand on his shoulder, “Let’s go see Vexler.  I’m sure he’ll loan you a horse.  I’ll vouch for you to him and to Mr. Lowell.”
    Looking at me with wide eyes again, “You don’t know me.  I might just ride out of here.”
    I looked at him and smiled.  “I don’t think you will, plus if you do I’ll have to come after you.”
    He looked confused.  “You’d come after me, but you won’t go after who stole my horse?”
    “Didn’t say that, I said I was goin’ to wait until the sheriff comes back,” I responded then looked at Molly then down at Lucas.  My attention went to Fountain and Doyle.  “Why don’t you guys go down to the diner.  Molly, here, will get you a piece of pie, on me.”  I slapped Lucas on the shoulder.  “Your work is over for the day.  Molly be sure Lucas gets a piece as well.”
    I started to walk on, but Lefty lingered, his hat being rolled in his hands.  “Ma’am,” he pleaded, “I sorta would like a piece as well…”

Lucas!” Marta yelled half-way across the diner, then rushed to grab him by the shoulders.  “Have you been fighting?”  She jerked him a couple of times.
    “No…”
    She shook him again, “Don’t you lie to me.  I can see your face.”
    I reached to take one of Marta’s arms from the boy and received an angry look from her.  “Marta,” I whispered gently.  “Let him explain.”
    Pushing him, she answered sharply, “Explain then!”  Then she looked at both Molly and me, You coddle him too much, but go ahead and listen.”
    “What happened?” I asked Lucas.
    He looked at his sister, frightened, then straightened up and answered me.  “Fernando, he stole a horse.  I tried to stop him.  I told him it was no good to be running away.  He laughed, and hit me knocking me to the ground, telling me that he was through with shoveling manure.  Then he kicked me, laughing.”
    Glancing at Marta, I could see she had softened some.
    “Senior Marshal, I tried to pull him from the saddle, but he kicked me in the face.  I’m sorry, I couldn’t help more,” he said with tears in his eyes, but he was not crying, it was from the shame he felt that he had let me down.
    I looked him over some, glimpsed a bit at his eye.  “How you feeling, son?”
    “Like I’ve been kicked,” he responded which brought laughter from the Judge and a good chuckle from me.  Molly hid her face so she wouldn’t laugh for she saw out of the corner of her eye the expression on Marta’s face.
    “Isn’t it bad enough that my husband goes out daily into danger and now you, you, get into trouble, and now this,” she snapped, but at least she was no longer yelling.
    “Whose horse did he take?” I asked, not wanting to ask if it was one of mine.  He already had done that once, that’s the reason he was mucking the streets.
    He shook his head, “I don’t know.  We were working down toward Foster’s store when it all happened.  He jumped on a sorrel, that’s all I can tell you.”
    Foster’s Mercantile was a couple doors away from the Broken Drum Saloon.  It probably belonged to one of the cowboys in the saloon.  
    I looked at the Judge.  “Go ahead, check it out.  I’ll eat my pie,” then he grinned, “might even eat yours too if you take too long.”
    Before we could leave the diner, Darnelle rushed in.  “Miles,” then she looked at the table, “Molly, you too.  You must come to the store.”  She was excited, but didn’t wait for an answer but rushed back out.
    Looking over at Molly, she simply said, “What now?”  Then over to Marta, “Can you handle the diner for a few minutes?”
    Marta had settled down by now.  She was simply fearful over her family.  I can understand how she burst out in anger for she had been holding in her fear for Charlie.  With Lucas being hurt, well, it all came flooding out.
    Since the establishments were so close together I decided on going to see what was happening with Darnelle.  She wouldn’t have left the store unattended so Mrs. Blackstone must be there.  But she wanted Molly along so I didn’t reckon it was anything dangerous, but my interest was peaked a mite.
    Lucas stayed outside to see if anyone came out looking for his horse, while Molly and I went on inside.  I started looking around.  I saw Mrs. Blackstone at the register, smiling.  That was good.
    “Miles!  Back here!” came the voice of Darnelle in the back of the store.  
    Molly and I started back.  He was bent over, working on some ledgers, with Darnelle beaming beside him.  “Daddy, you have visitors.”
    “Tell them I’m busy,” he replied gruffly.
    “Wilson!” I said in surprise.
    “Is that you Forrest, can’t you see I’m busy?” came the gruff voice again, then he began to laugh.  From the storeroom walked his wife Elizabeth with a radiant smile on her face.
    Molly rushed to her to hug her then turned her attention to Wilson.  “Thank the good Lord!  It’s so good to see you out!” she exclaimed then proceeded to give him a hug.
    “Doc said if I felt like it to get out.  So here I am,” he said then reached his hand toward me.  “I didn’t know fresh air could be so exhilarating, nor so exhausting.  I can’t walk, don’t know if I’ll ever be able to, and when I speak, sometimes it’s slurred, but here I am.”
    It was then I noticed that he was in a wheelchair.  Elizabeth had pushed him from his house.  “You let me know when you’re ready to go home, and I’ll help.”  It would not be as easy a push going home as it was mostly uphill.
    I was just getting ready to ask some questions of Wilson when Lucas burst through the door of the mercantile.  He’s had a habit of doing so lately.  “Senor, Marshal, a man outside hees very angry.  Hees horse is missing.”