A Rocky Mountain Christmas

“But this ain’t no dog, is it?”

“No.”

“What is it? A wolf? A fox? A coyote?”

“You’ve heard of mule deer, haven’t you, Troy?”

“Yes, sir, but I know this ain’t no mule deer.”

“It’s a coyote deer.”

Troy laughed. “We ain’t goin’ be tellin’ the others this, are we?”

“No.”

Troy laughed again. “I expect this will be the best coyote deer I done ever ate.”

While Troy was cutting up the rest of the carcass, Matt went back up to the front of the car. “You men, go outside and start gathering snow. Use your hats. Oh, and stay behind the train as much as you can, there’s less chance Santelli and the others will see you that way.”

“I want to help, too,” Timmy declared.

“Me, too,” Steven added.

“If it’s all right with your parents, it’s all right with me,” Matt said.

“Are you sure they won’t get in the way?” Ed Webb asked.

Luke smiled at the two boys. “I think they would be a great help, Why, I wasn’t much older than these two boys when I went to sea for the first time.”

“All right, Timmy, you can go with them.”

“Mama?” Steven asked.

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Lewis said.

“Miss McCoy, if you would, please get the fire going a little hotter, at least hot enough to boil water,” Matt asked.

“All right,” Jenny agreed.

“I’ll help you,” Mrs. Lewis offered.

An hour later, the entire car was permeated with the enticing aroma of the soup.

“When will it be ready?” Timmy asked. “I’m really hungry.”

“Soon, I think,” Matt said.

“Matt, I have a suggestion,” Luke said. “It’s something we did a few times on board ship when our rations were running low.”

“I’m open to any suggestion,” Matt said.

“For the first time, we’ll just have the broth. It will be nourishing enough to maybe take some of the edge off. Then we can put more water in, cook it a second time, maybe even three times before we eat up all the meat.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“You know somethin’? What is happenin’ to us now, has all come right out of the Bible,” Troy pointed out.

“What do you mean, it’s all come out of the Bible?” Daniels asked. “I don’t remember reading anything about a trapped train in the Bible.”

“Well, ’cause there weren’t no trains then. But the rest of it.” Troy quoted, “‘For I was hungry, and you gave me food.’ Well, ain’t that what Mr. Jensen has just done? Provide us with food? ‘I was thirsty, and you gave me drink.’ That’s what all the snow is, givin’ us water to drink. ‘I was a stranger, and you took me in.’ That’s me ’n Pete and Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Evans. We was strangers, out in the cold, but you good folks took us in. ‘I was naked, and you clothed me’.” Troy put his thumbs behind the serape and held it out. “That’s what this here thing is. ‘I was sick, and you visited me.’ That’s the sweet little girl that’s lyin’ over there now. She is some awful sick, but we done ever’ one of us took her into our hearts. ‘I was in prison, and you came to me.’ Well, ain’t we all sort of in prison now, I mean, what with bein’ trapped in this car and all? So that last one, the part about bein’ in prison, is for all of us. Yes, sir, ever’thing Jesus said in that parable just fits us.”

“What parable is that, Troy?” Beans asked.

“That’s from the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew, Mr. Evans. It’s the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats.”

“Troy, how come you know that?” Julius asked.

“I thought I told you, Julius. My daddy is a preacher man.”

“No, you ain’t never done told me that. If you know all that stuff, how come you ain’t never become a preacher man your own self?”

“My daddy is a godly man,” Troy said. “I don’t reckon I ever met a man who is finer ’n my daddy. But I ain’t never been nowhere near as good a man as he is. I’ve done lots of things that ain’t nowhere near godly. I just don’t figure I’m fit to be a preacher man.”

“Maybe being here like this is some kind of test for you,” Don suggested.

“I don’t mind Troy being tested,” Pete said. “Only if he’s the one bein’ tested, how come the rest of us has to be with him?”

The others laughed, and it was the first good, deep laugh any of them had had since the ordeal began.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“If you ask me, Morris has done got hisself kilt, just as sure as a gun is iron.” Kelly sat in the dining car with Santelli and Compton. “Otherwise, he’d be back here by now.”

“More ’n likely,” Santelli agreed.

“What if they come into this car after us?”

“They tried it once before, remember?” Santelli pointed out. “I don’t think they’re likely to try it again. The only way they can get into the car is through that door, and they can only come through the door one at a time.

“You know what?” Compton interjected. “We’re goin’ to run out of coal pretty soon. We won’t have enough to cook our food or heat the car.”

“No problem, just go into the next car and take whatever coal they have,” Santelli suggested.

“Yeah, good idea.” Compton stepped out onto the vestibule, pulled his pistol, then moved on into the car immediately behind the diner. Except for the bodies of the three men who had attempted to take back the diner, the car was completely empty.

Compton checked the stove and saw that the coal scuttle was empty. Walking through that car he looked into the next one, and it was empty as well, and was also missing a coal scuttle. As soon as he stepped onto the vestibule leading to the last car he heard laughter.

He frowned. Laughter? What did they have to laugh about?

Then he smelled the aroma of something being cooked. What could they be cooking?

Compton hurried back to the diner.

“Where’s the coal?” Santelli growled out as soon as Compton entered.

“There ain’t no coal in either of the next three cars,” Compton answered. “There ain’t no people there, either.”

“What do you mean, there aren’t any people? What happened to them?”

“They’ve all moved into the last car. And I figure they must’ve took their coal with them.”

“Damn.”

“And I’ll tell you somethin’ else. They’re cookin’ somethin’.”

“What do you mean, they are cooking something? What have they got to cook?”

“I don’t know, but I could smell it as soon as I got to the door. And the way they are laughing, you’d think