And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.” –Ecclesiastes 3:13, NLT
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Molly was putting the CLOSED sign on the front door. Mateo had escorted Lola home after he came back from taking Thornton to jail; she had settled down some by that time. I was up by the stove filling my cup with coffee. It had been a traumatic day. We still hadn’t heard from Doc on how his patient was faring.
Motioning with the pot, I asked, “Want some coffee?” Molly was walking back toward the table where I was sitting.
“I’d prefer some tea right now,” she muttered wearily.
“I’ll get a pan, it won’t take long to get some water heated,” I informed her.
“Don’t bother,” she began, but I cut her off.
“No bother, sit yourself down. I’ll be right back.” I went on back to the kitchen where I found a small tea kettle. On the shelf above there was a jar of tea and a strainer. I filled the strainer, put water in the kettle and headed back to the table. On the way I spotted a jar of honey so I grabbed it. She gave me a half-smile as I put the kettle on the stove next to the coffeepot.
Pulling the chair out I sat down, “Tell me what happened in the kitchen,” I implored her while waiting for the water to get hot.
“Emelda was over at the stove finishing up some enchiladas, Lola was standing near waiting to plate them when that man came in the back door. Oh, Miles, if you could have seen the look on his hideous face. He looked at me, smiled, then over at Lola. The scream you heard was when he started to approach her. I reached in my pocket for my pistol, pulled it out and told him to stop. He just turned, saw the gun in my hand then lifted his arm toward me pointing his gun. When he cocked the hammer and sneered, I pulled the trigger. I don’t know exactly where the bullet hit but it shocked him. His eyes widened and rolled back showing only the whites.”
She shuddered, but I encouraged her to continue. I knew where the bullet hit, right above his breastbone. He was a dead man as soon as that bullet hit.
“That’s when his gun went off, firing up in the air. He started staggering and went out of the kitchen. I followed to make sure he wouldn’t shoot anyone out there. That’s when he fell, and the commotion started.”
Commotion was a light word for what took place. “Miles, that was the man who grabbed me walking by the park.”
I got up to check the teapot. The water was hot and as I reached for a cup on the shelf behind the stove, Doc Jones came in. I was almost positive he could read, so he must have ignored the sign. “Pour me a cup while you’re standing there.”
“Coffee or tea?” I questioned holding up the tea kettle.
“Coffee!”
First I put Molly’s cup in front of her, then turned to get a cup for Doc. “Am I supposed to stir this with my finger?” she asked, mockingly moving her finger around the edge of the cup.
I went to where the utensils were kept, picked up a spoon to give to her. Then poured a cup of coffee for Doc who looked battered. As I handed him the cup, he stared at the dark liquid, then spoke. “I’m supposed to use these hands to heal people, not kill them.”
He was being battered for sure; battered by the demons that were attacking his mind. “Doc, you sure enough saved my bacon…”
Glancing at me, he gave a snort. I didn’t know if that meant “thanks” or “is your sorry hide worth it.”
Molly reached over the table to grasp his hand. “Doc, I’m thankful you did what you had to. By the way, how is the man who was shot?”
He took a sip before answering, making a frown, but only looking at me, not saying anything. “He’s fine, but he was supposed to go to work first of next month. There’s no way he can do a hard day’s work with that wound.”
“Where’s he supposed to work?” I questioned.
“North Star Mine, but Miles, he can’t do it, not at least for a couple of months.”
I took a long dreg of my coffee, finishing the cup, then answered, “I know Brewlinski. I’ll go up and talk with him.”
He gave a half smile, then put his head in his hands. Molly reached over, took his hands and began to pray…