The situation was going to go from bad to worse in a matter of seconds if I didn’t act.  “James, don’t!” came the shout from John Lamb.
    James Lamb turned toward his brother; it was all the distraction I needed.  I slashed down as hard as I could with the barrel of the shotgun on the arm that had recently been amputated.  Lamb shrieked like a Comanche, his face going pale.  He fell to his knees then rolled over on his side, moaning, the pain etched deeply on his face.
    Before I could turn to face the other man two shots were fired from behind me.  I saw the man stagger and fall.  Judge Broomfield had fired from his position on the bench. I jumped down from the witness stand to level the Greener on the approaching John Lamb.
    Another shot rang out; my attention went to the front where Charlie Gold has just shot Glen Framm.  I turned just in time to glance at Micah Teeter running out the door.  Over to the left, the one called Ioway Jenks was standing, hands in the air.  
    I could hear his hollering, “Not me, not me!  I’m not in this!”
    Charlie went over to relieve him of his gun.  I reached down to pick up the guns from the fallen Lamb and his fallen companion then motioned with the shotgun for his brother to come check on him.
    The courtroom was abuzz with sound and filled with commotion.  Judge Broomfield was not about to have that.  “Sheriff Gold, secure your prisoner then clear the courtroom.  I want everyone out not directly involved in the trial at hand,” he paused and I watched him survey the room.  “Doctor Jones, come check on the wounded and downed men.”
    He was standing closest to the downed body of Glen Framm.  “He’s in bad shape, but breathing.  If I can get him to my office and work on him, he might live.”
    “Sheriff Gold, grab a couple of men to help carry him over to Doc’s office,” ordered the Judge.  “Stay there until other arrangements can be made.”
    Charlie looked my direction and I nodded.  I went to Marta and Lucas as Doc was coming up to check on the other two men.  As I escorted them out of the courtroom, I heard Doc tell the Judge.  “You sent this one to meet his Maker, Judge.”
    “Go on about your normal business, if that’s possible.  Molly will be concerned so tell her I’m alright,” I informed them of what to do.  Before leaving I put my hand on the shoulder of Lucas.  “You did a fine job up there on the witness stand.”
    He gave a half-hearted smile then headed down the street with Marta.
    When I came back in I saw Belford sitting at the table, seemingly in a daze.  In front of him, on the table was the form of James Lamb.  Brother John was standing beside the Doc as he checked James over.
    “Will he be all right, Doctor?” breathed John.
    “Should be,” responded Doc Jones.  “He passed out from the pain.  I’ll get him over to the office and check out his arm more thoroughly there.”
    Approaching them, Belford turned to look at me.  “You should be put away for causing all of this pain,” he muttered.
    I looked at the Judge and he just shook his head.  “The Bible says don’t try to argue with a fool,” stated the Judge giving me advice.
    Just then, the eyes of James Lamb blinked open then started to roaming, searching.  “I’m here James,” uttered John.  “Why did you try such a thing?”
    Groaning he muttered, “I had a score to settle, plus I had to check on you.”
    “James, that youngster, the one who shot me, has made me do some self-appraising.  He said he was praying for me, and came over almost every day to see how I was doing.  I can’t be mad at him for protecting his sister.”
    “Marshal Forrest, I order you to see that James Lamb makes it to the penitentiary in Canon City to serve his sentence.  I find that John Lamb will serve the same sentence,” he paused, “to be paroled in two years.”
    “Judge!  You can’t do that!  I protest, the trial isn’t over yet!” screamed Belford.
    “Mister Belford,” Judge Broomfield turned to face him.  “I can, and I did, this trial is over!”
    The Judge looked at me again.  “You’ll leave as soon as the doctor says that the prisoner is fit to travel.”
    I nodded, then saw Charlie Gold walk in the door.  “Judge…”

Lucas looked so tiny on the witness chair, but he sat straight with his shoulders back.  He had grown up some in the past several weeks.
    “You said that the defendant, John Lamb, was trying to kidnap your sister without her permission?”, questioned the defense lawyer, Conrad Belford.
    Belford reminded me of a lizard, thin, cold flicking his tongue out as if he wanted a taste of Lucas.
    “This has happened before!  Her reputation proceeds her!” he shouted.
    “I object!” yelled Milt White.  “Mrs. Gold is not on trial.”
    It was all I could do but sit there.  I really wanted to thump Belford on the head.
    “So you shot him, thinking that he was trying to take your sister?”
    “Si, I mean yes, partly,” responded Lucas, now a little nervous with the outburst.
    “Oh, only partly?  Was there another motive in your shooting him?  Did you enjoy the feeling?”
    “He, was threatening my friends,” he said proudly, straightening up.
    “How old are you?” Belford barked.
    Lucas put his hand to his forehead.  “Fourteen.”
    “You’re one of those young scoundrels that run the streets causing havoc to the good folk of the community,” he accused.  “Do you go to school?  Do you work?”
    Lucas couldn’t answer, he was questioning too fast.  At last White objected, “Your Honor, he’s badgering the witness.”
    Judge Broomfield warned the tactics by Belford then turned to Lucas.  “Do you go to school?”
    “Si, Senor Judge,” replied Lucas.
    “Do you work?” the judge continued.
    “Si, I chop wood for the diner, and take care of, of Marshal Forrest’s horses,” he looked at me with a smile so I gave him a nod.
    “No more questions for this witness,” mumbled Belford.  “I now call Marshal Miles Forrest to the stand.”
    I was standing over by the jury box when summoned.  I walked the few steps to the witness stand and took the oath.
    Belford grabbed at the bottom of his throat.  “I’m aghast!  Judge, he is carrying a shotgun!” he garbled putting on a little show.  “I demand he put it away!”
    There came a sigh from the Judge.  “Marshal Forrest, is this really needed?  Only you and the Sheriff are carrying guns.  Do you really think you need to have the shotgun?”
    “Well,” I began pulling on my moustache.  “It’s like this…”  I had to smile when the back door opened and three men walked in.  “Judge, not everyone in this room is unarmed.  Why I even bet that Lawyer Belford has a derringer on his person.  And,” I pointed to the back of the room.  “Those three men are wearing guns, so I reckoned it was prudent that I keep my Greener handy.”
    “Sheriff Gold, go remove those men of their firearms!” commanded the Judge.
    Charlie stood and started down the far aisle toward them.  Two of the men began to span out away from the center.  The one I knew as Micah Teeter spoke up, “I’m afraid not Judge.”
    Then I heard steps from somewhere over to my right.  Two men walked through the doorway.  One of them spoke, “He’s right Judge, they’ll keep their guns.”
    There were two of them.  One man I didn’t know.  The other had one arm…

Brrr, that snow we received the other night sure brought in a cold spell.  Must be down near zero this morning.  I’d been helping Charlie do his rounds and took up some slack when he had to be out of town.  He wanted to hit the major towns before the end of the year; sort of take inventory.  He was supposed to be back from Silverton today, but with the snow the train might be delayed.
    I was warmly bundled as I walked the streets this morning.  The shops were just beginning to open.  Up the street I could see Darnelle out in front of her uncle’s store shoveling snow out into the street.  I decided to walk on up past the sheriff’s office and greet her.
    She looked up just as I got to her.  Tucking some strands of hair that had come out from under her scarf she gave me a warm smile for such a cold morning.  “You showed up just in time, Mr. Forrest, I just finished,” she said with a little laugh.  “Come on in, I have coffee warming on the stove all ready for this particular moment.  Join me.”
    I wasn’t about to turn down a cup of coffee.  In fact, weather like this makes a man hanker for it.  We stomped the snow off our boots on the little rug just inside the store.  I helped Darnelle with her coat and she proceeded down the main aisle toward the back.  I could feel the large room getting warmer as we neared the stove.  
    She handed me a cup, I didn’t bother to look in it for I knew it would be clean.  Pouring the coffee she asked, “How was your Christmas?”
    Fine, fine,” I responded, then took a sip.  Whew, it was hot!  Some women just have the knack of getting coffee, soup, and such hotter than others.  I wonder what it was?  “Glad you decided to come over to the diner for dinner.”
    Motioning to a chair I sat down and she took the one next to me scooting closer to the stove to warm her feet.  “Well, mother and father are out of town.  They went down to Santa Fe for Christmas.  They’ll be back this weekend if the weather holds.  I came to the diner to keep me from fixing a Christmas dinner.”
    “Wasn’t it lonely, here at Christmas?” I asked.
    She turned my way, looking at me solemnly and didn’t speak for a few seconds.  “In some ways you could say it was,” then a smile broke out on her face.  “In other ways, I’m never alone for the Lord is always with me.”
    I nodded at her; I could understand for I had spent many an hour on the trail by myself.  There were a few winters, that one up near Chugwater came quickly to mind when it was me, the wolves and the snowmen.
    Finishing my coffee I stood handing her the cup.  “Thanks,” then thought a minute.  “You have plenty of wood?”
    “I’m good.  Father had a couple of cords cut for us.  The upstairs doesn’t take much heat, except when that cold winds starts to howl,” she responded with a smile.
    I walked to the door and stood at the entry way looking up and down the street.  “You’re a cautious man,” I heard her say behind me.
    Turning my head I nodded to her.  “Pays to be cautious in my line of work.”
    “Do you think James Lamb will try to take his vengeance on you?” she questioned.
    I must have frowned for she continued.  “Oh, it’s all over town.  Some say you bring trouble to Durango,” she sighed and paused.  “Mister Forrest, don’t let people bother you with their talk.  Remember, you have been called to bring justice to this country wherever you are and right now you are in Durango.”
    Tipping my hat, I gave a smile.  “I’ll check back on you later.  I’m headin’ now to the station to see when they expect the train to be in.  Sheriff’s supposed to be on it.”
    Stepping out the cold wind came up the street.  That was one thing about going inside a warm room, a person had to come back out to the cold.  John Lamb’s trial was set for next week.  I reckoned that James and his cohorts would be here by then.
    I breathed a little prayer and I could almost imagine the words handing out with my frosted breath, “Lord, help me in the New Year.”

I was going down to Foster’s store to see if he had any canned tomatoes.  Molly had ordered several cans, but wanted a few more.  She was busy making several pies for tomorrow’s Christmas feed.  We’d put the kettles on in the morning to get the stew going.  For the past few years we always invited folks in the town over for a Christmas time of getting together.  We’d make up a couple large kettles of stew and have pie.  It was a nice time, and in the winter there were plenty of out-of-work miners needing something to eat.
    The stew this year was primarily elk with some venison thrown in.  There were plenty of potatoes and onion along with some carrots.  What I was to pick up was some more cans of tomatoes.  I just had to shake my head a little.  Hard to imagine them being able to can things such as tomatoes, peaches, and the like.  
    Stan Offut was standing outside the telegraph office puffing on a cigar.  He didn’t allow folk to smoke in the office so he didn’t either.  It was too small an office to have smoke gather.
    “Hey, Miles!  Telegram in here for you!” he hollered then went inside.
    For some reason I got a shiver.  It made me look around to see if the weather was going to change.  There were some clouds building back toward the north, but it looked as if we were going to miss the chance for a white Christmas.
    Stan met me at the door of the office with the telegram.  I unfolded it while standing there.  “Lamb escaped–STOP–guard wounded, serious–STOP–be ready.  J. Blascoe”
    Stan must have seen my face go grim with the news for he asked, “Something wrong?”
    I slapped him on the shoulder.  “Nothing that can’t be handled.  Thanks.”  I started to walk away but turned back.  “You and the wife comin’ tomorrow or does she have something prepared?”
    “Did Molly make a mince-meat pie?” he inquired.
    Giving him a nod, he replied, “Then we’ll be there.  Bea will like to get out.”
    Folding the telegram I placed it in my jacket pocket.  There was something that Marshal Blasco wasn’t saying.  “How in the world did a one-armed man escape armed guards on his way to prison?” I thought, mulling the thought over in my mind while walking on up the street.  For sure, Lamb would head this way; for no other reason but that his brother was still here.  Another was to even the score with me.
    I decided to stop by the sheriff’s office to see if Charlie was in.  He needed to know about Lamb.  As I walked in the door I shouted at him, “Don’t you ever do any work?”  He had his feet propped up on the desk and was leaning back.  My shout almost made him lose his balance.
    “I should shoot you for that,” he muttered.  “Take a couple years off a fellow’s life.”
    “Lamb escaped.”
    “No way!  How in the world?”
    “That’s what I was thinkin’.  One of the guards was shot.  Blasco said he was in serious condition,” I paused to pull on my moustache.  “I’m thinkin’ he had help.”
    “Teeter and his thugs,” stated Charlie.  “Give me their names and descriptions so I can get it in my head.  When are you thinking they may get here?”
    I went to the stove to check the coffeepot.  It was still hot, so I grabbed a cup from the shelf and poured a cup.  After taking a sip I replied.  “They could show up as soon as tomorrow, but I reckon after Christmas, or maybe even after the New Year.”
    Charlie gave a little grunt.  “Tomorrow would catch you unawares.  Relaxed, having fun with friends…be a good time to get you.”
    “I’ll be ready.”
    “What time is the feed tomorrow?” he asked.
    I gave a little chuckle.  “Doesn’t Marta tell you anything?  We’ll go to church and then head back to the diner.  Elena will keep an eye on things while we’re in church.”
    “Marta has been trying to get her to come with us, but right now she is too Catholic.  However,” he smiled, “she likes it when the Preacher Clayton comes to visit her.  He reads to her, holds her hand, then prays for her.  She just sits there, taking it all in with a smile.”
    “He’s sure a good man,” I responded.  “Helps those whom he can, even up in Mex town.”
    I finished my coffee, wiped out the inside with a towel I saw handing near the shelf then placed it back where I got it.  Charlie stood as I started out.
    “Merry Christmas, Miles.  Tomorrow’s gonna be a fine day,” he paused, “and maybe quite interesting.”