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…”