Obey the king because you have vowed before God to do this. Don’t try to avoid doing your duty, and don’t take a stand with those who plot evil. For the king will punish those who disobey him.” — Ecclesiastes 8:2-3 (NLT)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“So, are you all packed and ready to go?” inquired Betty Chapman before taking a sip of tea. Betty didn’t drink coffee, so Molly made the ladies a pot of tea while we all sat around the table. It was the Preacher and his wife, along with Doc and Edith.
Molly reached over to pat Betty on the hand. “I’m packed,” then should looked over at me. “I just hope he remembered to get me a ticket. The state provided for him.”
I gasped, then proclaimed, “I knew there was something I forgot to do!”
I gasped, then proclaimed, “I knew there was something I forgot to do!”
“Oh, hogwash,” muttered Molly, “I know you have it in your vest pocket.”
“Miles, what is it that the governor wants you to do?” questioned Parson Chapman.
Shrugging my shoulders, I answered, “I have no idea. I had a telegram waitin’ for me when I came in with my prisoner. ‘Get to Denver…Governor wants us. –McBride’ I was told that the governor comes up with whims now and again.” I paused, turning my attention to Doc. “I talked with Charlie. He said he would deal with the prisoner.” I stopped to take a sip of coffee. “By the way, he hasn’t regained consciousness, has he?”
“He lost a lot of blood, and that falling off the horse didn’t help him either,” replied Doc, who put a grin on his face. “If he wasn’t so badly hurt I’d chuckle some knowing that he fell off into a patch of prickly pear and cholla.” He pointed a bony finger at me. “Miles, if you weren’t leaving I’d have you over to pick all those spines off him. I spent over an hour getting them out.”
I shook my head slightly. “Luke Sims. You don’t recall anyone by that name, or at least the last name?” I asked Doc.
He pulled on his ear, “Not that I can recall, and his face isn’t familiar either.”
“Well, if Charlie can come up with a reason or a name, have him send me a telegraph. We’re staying at the Windsor Hotel.”
There was some friendly chatter going on, mostly the men with the men and the ladies held their own conversation. The train was leaving at six o’clock that evening. I had been able to secure a berth for Molly should she want it. It would take us about a day to get to Denver as we had to make a couple of changes along the way.
Doc smiled, “I hear you have Enrique working now, taking care of your horses. What is he nine, ten?”
“Doc, he’s fourteen now. And you know that Alejo is working full time for Bert Winfield?”
“No! I can’t imagine him being that old,” he muttered, shaking his head.
I looked at the clock. “Molly, we’d best be sayin’ our goodbyes and head towards the station.”
We started to stand, and the preacher interrupted us. “I think we should have some prayer over our good friends that the Lord will keep them safe on their journey.” There was agreement and we stood around the table holding hands while the preacher prayed a sincere prayer. Afterward, he came to give me a big hug. “Be safe…I’ll be praying.”
I grabbed the Greener and then reached for Molly’s arm. “Are you really going to take that shotgun to Denver?” asked Edith, with a frown on her face.
Giving my best grin, “I wouldn’t be caught without it.”
“Perate!’ came the voice from the kitchen. “Perate! I am coming.” Emelda rushed out from the kitchen with a bag of sandwiches and other delights for our trip. “For you,” she said seemingly embarrassed.
“Let’s go,” I spoke to Molly. “Let’s see what the Lord has for us. Who knows…?