A Rocky Mountain Christmas (19 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: A Rocky Mountain Christmas
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C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-
FOUR
Pueblo
City Undertaker Joe Ponder walked into the sheriff’s office as John McKenzie was pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Sheriff, I just got a couple bodies in I think will interest you. You might want to come take a look at them before I get them ready to send back to Bent County.”
“All right, Joe.” McKenzie poured the coffee back into the blue metal coffeepot, put on his coat, and trudged through the cold to the mortuary.
“Murder victims?” McKenzie asked as they walked.
“No, sir, not exactly. Leastwise, I don’t think so. According to Nugent, he killed both of them while they were trying to hold up the stage yesterday. The driver backs him up.”
They entered the mortuary, where two bodies lay covered by shrouds.
McKenzie nodded to the bodies. “Who are they, do you know?”
“Yes, sir, I know both of them. That’s why I come to get you. I think you’re goin’ to be mighty interested when you see who they are.” Ponder pulled the shrouds back. The massive wounds in the chests were the first thing Sheriff McKenzie saw. Then he looked up at their faces. The faces were without color or any animation, but he recognized them at once.
“It’s Sheriff Ferrell!”
“Yes, and the other fella is his new deputy. His last name is Clayton, but I don’t know his first name.”
“And you say Nugent killed them while they were holding up the stagecoach?”
“Yes, sir. That’s what Jake Nugent and Silas Cambridge both say.”
“Damn. You know what that means? It means Luke Shardeen was more ’n likely telling the truth. I’ll tell Mr. Murchison. He’ll for sure want to file an appeal. And I’ll send a telegram to the Sheriff of Eagle County, telling him to have Proxmire bring Luke back for the new trial.”
“After you see what I found, you may not be able to hold a new trial here.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s likely we won’t have a judge who can hold the trial.”
“What are you talking about, Joe?”
“Well, sir, I found somethin’ in Ferrell’s pocket you might want to see.”
“What is it?
“I slipped it back in his pocket so you could see where it came from. Seth Campbell was with me, and he’ll back me up that it came from Ferrell’s pocket.”
“Are you going to tell me? Or are you just going to keep gabbing?”
“I don’t have to tell you. I’ll show you.” Ponder reached into Ferrell’s shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. There was blood on the paper, but it didn’t prevent the message from being read.
Stagecoach from Wetmore to Yorkville will be carrying
three thousand dollars in cash. After you do the
job, I shall expect one thousand as my cut.
Briggs
 
“Ha!” McKenzie slapped the note against his open palm. “We’ve got ’im! I’ve thought all along that damn so-and-so was crooked.”
On board the Red Cliff Special
Julius was standing near the stove when he heard something at the back door of the car. Looking around he saw someone looking in through the window. “It’s Pete!” Julius scurried to the back door and jerked it open.
Pete was covered with snow and shaking uncontrollably. Julius pulled him inside and he and Troy knocked the snow off him. Julius pulled his serape off and draped it over Pete.
“Come on up closer to the stove,” Julius invited, pulling him toward the front. “It’s not puttin’ out much heat, but it’ll help some.”
“Pete, where’s Fred?” Troy asked.
“He’s outside,” Pete said, barely able to speak. “He’s lyin’ in the snow alongside the car.”
“We can’t leave him out there,” Bailey said. “He’ll freeze to death.”
“He’s already dead,” Pete said bluntly. “Those men kilt him ’cause he tried to break off a piece of bread for me ’n him.”
Julius, who had given up his serape, began to shiver. Troy took his off and gave it to him. “Here, Julius, you wear this for a while, then when I get too cold, give it back, and we’ll swap it back and forth.”
“You can do that, or we’ll make another one,” Matt suggested.
“How are we going to make another one? There ain’t no carpet left,” Troy said.
Matt smiled. “Not in this car.”
Matt and Troy went into the next car. There were eight people in this car, a man, two woman, and five children. The body of Deputy Proxmire was slumped in a window seat.
“What do you want?” the man asked anxiously.
“We want to take up the carpet so we can make some more serapes, like this.” Matt indicated the one he was wearing. “We have some people in our car without coats.”
“All right,” the man answered.
Matt looked at the firebox and saw there was even less coal than remained in his car. “It looks like you don’t have much coal left.”
“No, sir, we don’t.”
“What’s your name?”
“The name is Webb, Edward Webb. This is my wife Clara.”
“My name is Timmy,” said a boy about nine. Two younger girls sat next to him, but neither of them spoke.
“The two shy ones are Emma and Molly,” Webb said.
“My name is Jensen—”
“Yes, sir. You are Matt Jensen,” Timmy interrupted. “I’ve read about you.”
“Have you now?” Matt asked with a smile. “Well, Timmy, I’m glad you are reading, but don’t believe everything you read about me. Those are mostly made-up stories.”
“I know,” Timmy said. “But they wouldn’t make them up about you if some of it wasn’t true.”
“Maybe,” Matt granted.
He turned to the other woman. A girl and a boy sat in the facing seat. “And you, Mrs. . . . ?”
“My name is Anita Lewis. This is my daughter Barbara, she’s eleven, and my son Steven.”
“I’m nine, just like Timmy,” Steven explained.
“Except I’m a month older,” Timmy said quickly.
“Mr. Webb, Mrs. Lewis, I think you should take your families and the rest of the coal back into our car. We’ll be able to consolidate the coal and make it last longer for all of us.”
“That’s a good idea,” Webb said.
“All right,” Anita agreed.
“Mr. Jensen, do you think we will be stuck here through Christmas?” Barbara asked.
“I don’t know.” Matt smiled, trying to put a good face on the situation. “But if we are, we’ll just make the best of it. Why, we can have our own Christmas party.”
“How can you have a party without food?” Steven asked.
“We’ll just figure out a way,” Matt said.
After the Webb and Lewis families left, with Mr. Webb carrying the scuttle of coal, Matt and Troy took up the carpet, then they returned to the rear car.
“That was a good idea, inviting them—and their coal—to our car,” Luke said.
“Well, I would have just invited the coal, but I didn’t think they would go along with that,” Matt said. Webb stared at Matt for a moment, then when he realized Matt was only teasing, he laughed out loud.
It was good to hear laughter.
“Mr. Jensen, do you suppose there’s more coal in the other car?” Troy asked.
“There may be,” Matt said. “And good for you for thinking about it. We’ll also cut up that carpet and make more serapes. We can’t do anything about food, but at least we won’t freeze to death.”
Pueblo
Prosecutor Lloyd Gilmore was on the telephone in his office, talking to the governor. “Yes, Governor. Yes, I’m absolutely sure of it. Yes, sir, the sheriff and defense attorney are here with me now. Thank you, Governor. I will tell them. Yes sir. We will take care of it.”
Gilmore listened for a moment, then looked over at Sheriff McKenzie.
“The governor wants to know if we have heard anything else about the stranded train.”
“Nothing from the train itself, but I believe they are putting together a rescue train to go up and relieve them,” McKenzie said.
Gilmore repeated the information to the governor, then hung up the phone. “There won’t be any need for another trial for Luke Shardeen, Tom. I am dropping all charges.”
“Thank you, Lloyd,” Murchison said. “I’ve known Luke Shardeen ever since he came here, and I know he is a good man. You are doing the right thing.”
“What are we going to do about Briggs?” Sheriff McKenzie asked.
“It has already been done,” Gilmore said. “Governor Waite has just removed him from office. He wants you to inform him.”
McKenzie agreed. “That is something I will do with great pleasure.”
“May I come as well, Sheriff?” Murchison asked. “I very much want to see this.”
“Sure, come along if you want to.”
Accompanied by Gilmore and Murchison, Sheriff McKenzie walked to the courthouse. Inside, they climbed the stairs to the second floor, and stepped into the judge’s outer office, where they were greeted by Arnold Rittenhouse, the judge’s secretary.
“Gentlemen,” Rittenhouse said. “Do you have an appointment with His Honor?”
“No appointment is necessary for what I’m about to do,” Sheriff McKenzie declared. “And there is nothing honorable about him.”
“I don’t understand.” The expression on the secretary’s face reflected his confusion.
“Just stay out of the way and watch. You’ll understand soon enough.” McKenzie started toward the door to the judge’s chambers.
“No, Sheriff, you can’t go in there!” Rittenhouse shouted.
McKenzie jerked the door open and walked in.
“Here, what is the meaning of this?” Judge Briggs shouted, holding his pants up with one hand, while a young woman from the Colorado Social Club was busy trying to rearrange her clothes.
“You’d better leave, miss,” Sheriff McKenzie said.
“What? Who are you to tell her to leave? If anyone is going to leave it will be you and this . . . this entourage you have with you.” Briggs pointed at McKenzie with his free hand. “Get out! Get out of here at once, or by damn I will hold you in contempt of court!”
“I already hold you in contempt, you sorry excuse for a man,” McKenzie said angrily. “Amon Briggs, you have been removed from the bench by order of the Governor of the state of Colorado. And you are also under arrest for stagecoach robbery.”
“Stagecoach robbery! Are you out of your mind?”
“Tell him, Mr. Gilmore,” Sheriff McKenzie said.
“Mr. Briggs—”
“You will address me as Your Honor or Judge Briggs,” Briggs continued angrily.
“You are lucky I’m even addressing you as mister. You have been removed from the bench, Mr. Briggs, and I am filing charges with the Attorney General of the State, charging you with collusion with Dewey Ferrell and Jebediah Clayton for the attempted robbery of the Wetmore to Yorkville stagecoach.”
“What do you mean attempted robbery?”
“It means they tried to rob it, but were killed,” Sheriff McKenzie answered.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“We found a note in Ferrell’s pocket—a note from you, Briggs—telling him the coach would be carrying three thousand dollars, and demanding one third of the money,” McKenzie advised.
The expression of anger and defiance on Brigg’s face faded, quickly changing to one of fear.
“Stick out your hands, Briggs,” McKenzie said. “I’m going to cuff you.
“No, please,” Briggs pleaded. “Don’t parade me in handcuffs in front of the people! I’ll lose all their respect.”
“Tell me, Mr. Briggs,” Gilmore said. “What makes you think anyone respects you now?”
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-
FIVE
Buena Vista
Everyone in town had heard that the train was trapped at the top of the pass. About a hundred people were in the depot, most out of concern and curiosity. Those who had relatives and loved ones on the train had the greatest concern. Although they knew Deckert had no more information than they did, being at the depot made them feel closer to the people on the train.
The Chaffee County Times
had put out a special edition extra, and they sold more copies than ever before.
Red Cliff Special Trapped in Pass
Word has reached this newspaper that the Red Cliff Special, which left the Buena Vista Depot at nine o’clock
post meridiem
two days previous, is now sitting at the top, or near the top of Trout Creek Pass. It is the normal procedure for a train unable to proceed farther through the pass to retrace its path and return to the station last departed. That the train in question has not done so is a disquieting indication it is probably entrapped.
There are forty people on board the train, not excepting the crew of engineer, fireman, four porters, and the conductor. State Senator Jarred Daniels, his wife, and daughter are said to be among the passengers. So too is Deputy Sheriff Braxton Proxmire with two prisoners, the infamous Michael Santelli and Luke Shardeen, a local rancher.
That Shardeen is aboard is an irony, for while he was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to four years confinement, the charges against him have been dropped. Though Shardeen did kill Deputy Gates, his defense was that Gates and Sheriff Ferrell attempted to rob him. Sheriff Ferrell was subsequently killed while he was in the act of robbing a stagecoach. That incident has provided sufficient veracity to Shardeen’s defense claim to warrant the dropping of all charges.
Hodge Deckert, the Buena Vista stationmaster, says a rescue train has been assembled and will leave today.
An engine, a tender, and two passenger cars sat on the tracks ready to rescue the passengers stuck at the summit. The weather was fair, though it was exceptionally cold. By the time Deckert was ready to dispatch the rescue train, considerably over half those who had come to bear witness to the rescue effort had given up and returned home.
Although railroad personnel were confident the special had enough food, the rescue train was carrying food, anyway. In addition, they rightly figured fuel for the heating stoves would just about be exhausted, so they were also carrying a lot of blankets. Additional fuel for the heating stoves was not taken as the passengers would be returning on the rescue train.
The Buena Vista Fire Company band played as the rescue train got ready to leave. Finally, with salutes from the locomotive whistle and waves from the train crew, the throttle was opened and, amid chugs and great puffs of gleaming white steam, the engine got under way.
The departing whistle of the train was heard in every house and business establishment in the entire town. Those who had given up waiting breathed a prayer of petition that the train would get through and all on board would be returned safely.
Deckert watched the train leave, then he went back into the depot and walked over to the telegraph operator. “Send a telegram to Big Rock. Tell them the rescue train just got under way.”
“I can’t go directly to Big Rock. I have to go around.”
“Send it however you have to do it, but just do it,” Deckert ordered.
Big Rock
The telegraph instrument at the railroad depot began clacking. The telegrapher responded, then smiled as he began writing the message on his work pad. When he was finished, he signed off and took the message to the station agent. “Mr. Wilson, this just came in.”
BV RESCUE TRAIN TO REACH STRANDED TRAIN
NOON STOP WILL UPDATE STOP DECKERT AGENT BV
Phil read the article then nodded. “This is good to know. I’m not really worried about those people up there; they have enough food to have a comfortable wait until they are rescued. But they are bound to be more comfortable and less apprehensive if they are back in Buena Vista, even though that may not be where they want to spend Christmas.”
“Mr. Wilson, do you think I should take word out to Mr. Jensen?” Eddie asked.
“Yes, I think that would be a very good idea. I’m sure he would like to know what’s going on.”
“All right, I’ll saddle up and go right away.” Eddie smiled. “I probably won’t be back until after dinner.”
Phil knew that, by dinner, Eddie was referring to the noon meal, and he chuckled. “You’re going to hit Miss Sally up for dinner, are you?”
“Why not? You know anybody that’s a better cook?”
On board the stalled train
With the bright sun reflecting off the snow and pouring in through the windows of the car, the temperature in the car had risen so that, even with the smallest of flames, the stove was able to keep the car comfortably warm.
“Folks, I suggest that we put the fire out for now,” Matt advised.
“Now, just why would we want to do a thing like that?” Senator Daniels protested. “We are all starving to death, but at least we are warm.”
“Think about it, Senator,” Matt said. “With the bright sun out, we’re getting some heat in the car without the stove. But tonight, when the temperature drops several degrees below zero, we will need the heat the stove can provide. We have to save fuel to be certain that we will have it at night, when we need it.”
“We’ve got extra coal now, and my daughter is ill,” Daniels whined. “I’ll not have you make it worse by putting out the fire in that stove.”
“We’ve got some extra coal, yes, but I don’t know how many more days we will be here. It’s best to be as conservative as we can.”
“Jarred, you know he is right.” Millie laid her hand on her husband’s arm. “You know how cold these last two nights have been. It will be worth being without heat in the daytime, if we can keep warm at night.”
“We aren’t going to be here much longer. Maybe not even tonight. I’m absolutely convinced a rescue train will reach us today,” Senator Daniels said stubbornly.
“I certainly hope you are right, Senator. But I don’t think we should take that chance.”
“I don’t, either,” Luke put in.
“And you can count me in with Mr. Jensen,” Bailey said.
“Mr. Purvis, what about you?” Senator Daniels asked.
“I’m sorry, Senator, but I’m going to have to go along with Mr. Jensen on this one.”
“I’m not going to let my daughter get cold and get worse.”
“I’m not so cold, Daddy,” Becky said in a weak voice.
“All right, all right.” Senator Daniels threw his hands up in frustration. “It is obvious I am the only sane one here. But I can’t stand up to all of you. Put out the fire.”
The fire was extinguished, and within fifteen minutes, the temperature began to drop.
“I told you it was going to get cold in here,” Senator Daniels complained.
“It will be much colder tonight,” Matt said.
During the discussion a man had come in through the front door.
Troy noticed him first and pointed. “It’s one of them! It’s one of the men who took over the dining car.”
“Troy is right. This one’s name is Morris,” Pete said.
Morris reached out and grabbed Timmy, who was standing the closest to him.
“Mama!” Timmy called, trying to twist out of Morris’s grip.
“Timmy!”
Morris tightened his grip and held his pistol to the boy’s head. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, boy.”
“What do you want, Morris?”
“We want the whore. Give us the whore, and we’ll give you somethin’ to eat.”
“If she didn’t go before, what makes you think she is going to go today?” Luke asked.
“Because it’s been two whole days since any of you have had anything to eat,” Morris pointed out unnecessarily. “And if the whore will just come along with me, why, we’ll feed the whole train.”
“How you goin’ to do that?” Pete asked. “There ain’t no cooks left.”
“Oh, we’ll let one of you boys do the cookin’,” Morris offered.
“She’s not going,” Luke insisted.
“Wait a minute,” Abner Purvis interrupted. “The other day, I was on the woman’s side. I figured she shouldn’t have to go if she didn’t want to. But now I’m thinkin’, why not? I mean, we all know this is what she does anyway. So why not go ahead and do it again? Especially if it will get her and all the rest of us something to eat. There’s no tellin’ how long we’re goin’ to be sittin’ here. You know if the rescue train coulda got through, it woulda come for us yesterday.”
“She’s
not
going,” Luke repeated.
“Let me make it a bit easier for you to decide,” Morris said. “If the whore comes with me, you all eat, and the boy lives. If she don’t come with me, none of you eat, and I’ll kill her, and the boy, and go back by myself.”
“Morris, what makes you think you’re going back with or without her?” Matt asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the young lady isn’t going anywhere, and neither are you.”
“Are you blind? You do see that I’m holding a gun to this boy’s head, don’t you? Now, I’m going to count to three. And if the whore don’t say she’s goin’ back with me by the time I get to three, I’m goin’ to kill this boy.”
“I’m warning you, Morris, don’t do that.”
“Ha! You’re warnin’ me? One, two . . .”
Morris glanced over toward Jenny, and that was all the opening Matt needed. He drew and fired in one lightning-fast motion. The bullet hit Morris just above his right eye, and dropping the pistol, he was slammed back against the front door of the car.
The four women in the car screamed in shock and surprise.
“Wow!” Timmy cried. “Steven, did you see that?”
“Are you crazy?” Senator Daniels shouted. “You could have killed the boy!”
“No,” Edward Webb said. “Morris could have killed my son, and I believe he would have, if it hadn’t been for Mr. Jensen. Mr. Jensen saved Timmy’s life.”
“Wow!” Timmy said again. “Wait until I tell all my friends!”
“What difference does it make?” Purvis asked. “We’re all going to starve to death anyway.”
“Purvis,” Matt said. “We may get hungry, but we aren’t going to starve. I once went ten days without eating, and I’ve heard of people going for as long as a month without eating. In order to survive, first we need heat, so we won’t freeze to death. Next, we need water, and with all the snow, we have plenty of that. The least important for our immediate survival is food.”
“That might not be the most important, but my feelin’ is we’re goin’ to get awful hungry before too long,” Purvis complained.
“I’m hungry now,” Troy said.
“Like I said, I’ve been through this before. We will get through it,” Matt promised. “As long as Santelli and the others stay in the dining car, they are more trapped than we are. We are the ones who are going to be rescued, not them. When the rescue team comes, Santelli and the men with him will go to jail, and they will hang.”
“Troy,” Julius said, starting toward Morris’s body. “Come help me take out the trash.”

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