Things seemed to have settled down since Miles arrived back in Durango from his little fiasco up near Taos. There was still the matter of a man on the loose with one of Miles’ bullets in him, and Amos Martin yet to be confronted, but other than that Durango was calm. But one never knew in the heyday of the West when a storm might blow in either natural or in the form of evil. Let’s look in on Miles this week and see if anything of interest is happening for one never knew in those exciting days of yesteryear what might come their way.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mateo stepped through the doorway. Normally he didn’t stop unless it was to wave or grab a quick cup of coffee on a cold day, but he started to walk my direction. One scarcely would notice the slight limp he had from taking a bullet a few years back. It surely didn’t keep him from doing his duty. The town was really blessed to have a man of his stature and integrity as marshal.
He nodded at folks in the diner as he approached the table. “Mateo, come sit down with us,” greeted Molly.
“Gracias, Molly,” he said, finally getting used to calling us by our given names.
“What can I get you? A piece of pie?” inquired Molly with a smile.
Mateo returned the smile, but with a shake of his head.
She looked at him, still smiling. “Sure? I have chocolate and Miles will pour you a cup of coffee to go with it.”
He ducked his head, seemingly embarrassed, then acquiesced, “Okay, a small piece, that is, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Looking over at me she remarked, “And I suppose you want a piece as well.” It was not a question, but I wasn’t going to turn down a piece of pie, so I nodded in the affirmative.
I helped Molly from her chair, she went towards the kitchen and I grabbed a cup from the shelf to pour Mateo a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove near me. Handing him the cup, he replied with a quiet, “Gracias”.
He was sipping on his coffee when Molly returned with the pie, then gave me a nod with her head. I reckoned that meant she wanted a refill for her cup so I immediately went forward to the task.
We were enjoying the pie, coffee, and company though a word hadn’t been said. I thought I’d see if there was anything on Mateo’s mind. “So, what made you decide to stop by today? Any special occasion?”
He placed his fork in the plate, took one more sip, then set the cup down. Looking first at Molly, who started to show concern on her face, then turned his attention to me. He then glanced around before quietly speaking. “It’s Luciana. She wants me to quit this job…”
The countenance on Molly’s face now showed real concern, but it was not from Mateo and his job, it was concern over the welfare of friends. “I assume she told you why,” uttered Molly.
“Si, she say it is too dangerous.”
“It’s because of what happened to Alejo, isn’t it?” I questioned.
“Si, but there has been talk…families in the barrio talk, they are afraid. And, and Father Damian has had notes left on the church door, and blood smeared on the walls with the remains of dead cats and dogs left on the threshold.”
I could feel my jaws begin to tighten. “Martin?”
“I don’t know. I have tried to investigate, but I don’t get nowhere. They are pretty sly. They don’t advertise when they are going to strike, and the people, some of them think that they will become targets. I have talked to Sheriff Gold, but he has had no luck either.”
Molly placed her hand on Mateo’s arm. “Mateo, I think every lawman and their family go through events like this. It is a way for them to make a decision on which direction to go. I will admit, I used to worry about Miles when he was out.”
“You don’t anymore?” he looked at her in surprise, then over to me.
Squeezing his arm, she continued. “I have more of a concern, but no longer worry. I had to give him over to the Lord many years ago or I would have gone crazy. We’ve had our share of trials and scoundrels trying to use me to get to him,” she paused, gave a little shrug. “It is something that you and Luciana will have to work out.”
“Mateo, you’re a good lawman,” I interjected. “What would you do for a livin’, farm?”
“Senor Miles, I could farm, my father raised the melons, I could do it also,” he spoke in defense, but then added, “but I hate farming.”
I had to chuckle. Standing, I asked, “Do you mind if I talk with Father Damian? Maybe I could see something from a different perspective.” Then I glanced at Molly. “Perhaps it is time for me to have a heart-to-heart with Amos Martin.”
Mateo stood up next to me and it was the first time I noticed that he was taller than me. A slender, wiry man, who stood and looked like the lawman that he was. It would be a shame for the town to lose him. “Mind if I walk with you?” he asked and we strode toward the door…