One More Sunrise (11 page)

Brockman’s eyes widened as the deputy handed him the envelope. Looking at it, he said, “Charlie, you don’t suppose this is going to be good news, telling me that some lawman and his posse have managed to capture that nefarious bunch.”

Wesson grinned. “Hey, that
would
be good news!”

Brockman opened the envelope, took out the telegram, and read it while Charlie waited to hear its contents. When he saw disappointment frame the chief’s rugged features, Charlie’s grin faded.

Brockman looked up at him. “Sheriff Polson wanted to let me know that Moran and his gang held up a stagecoach near
Chugwater. They got a cash box containing fifty thousand dollars being sent to the Bank of Casper from the Bank of Fort Collins.”

“Oh no. So now they’re going after stagecoaches as well as banks.”

“Yep. Polson says Darryl Moran was shot by a passenger on the stage while the gang was riding away. He was taken to Dr. Jacob Logan’s office in Cheyenne, but died on the operating table. The rest of them are still at large.”

Charlie pulled at an ear. “Well, sir, at least there’s one less member in the gang.”

Brockman nodded. “Yes, but if Tag Moran and the rest of them aren’t caught soon, I’m going to have to take some deputies and go after them.”

“Well, if you do, Chief, I’d sure like to be one of those deputies.”

“We’ll see.”

Wesson returned to the desk in the outer office, and Brockman went back to the paperwork.

Nearly an hour had passed when Charlie Wesson tapped on the door and stuck his head in. “Chief, there’s a man out here who would like to see you. His name is Wally Talbot. He says he met you once in Kansas, and he just wants to see you for a few minutes before leaving for home.”

Brockman pushed his desk chair back and rose to his feet. “Please bring him in.” As he spoke, he stepped around in front of the desk.

When Wally Talbot, who was in his late thirties, entered the office, he stopped and looked at the smiling chief with admiring eyes.

Behind him, Charlie Wesson closed the door to give the two men privacy.

Brockman, who was a little older than Talbot, had coal black hair with just a touch of silver at the temples. He was square-jawed
and had a pair of identical white-ridged scars on his right cheekbone. His eyes were pools of gray that seemed to look through a person rather than at him.

Talbot moved up to him and extended his right hand. As they met each other’s grip, he said, “Chief Brockman, you and I met in Wichita back in May 1868. I was—”

“You were about to be forced into drawing against a gunfighter named Hatch Wasserman.”

Surprise showed in Talbot’s eyes. He chuckled as they let go of each other’s hands. “I didn’t think you’d remember me! You saved my hide by taking out Wasserman. Then you led me to the Lord.”

“I remember it well, Wally. How are you doing?”

“Just great, sir.”

“You still living on that farm just outside of Wichita?”

“Sure am. When you led me to Jesus that day, you told me of a good Bible-believing church in town and strongly advised me to go there. I did that very next Sunday and got baptized. I met the lady who is now my wife in that church and now we have three children—all who have come to know Jesus as their Saviour.”

“Wonderful! Come on over here and sit down.”

Before either man could move, there was another tap on the door. Charlie Wesson opened it and stuck his head in. “Chief, Mrs. Brockman and the children are here to see you. I told Mrs. Brockman that you were busy at the moment, but I just wanted to let you know they’re here.”

“Bring them in, Charlie. I’d like for them to meet Mr. Talbot.”

Wesson nodded and hurried away.

Wally looked at the tall man. “This will be an honor, sir.”

He then saw the beautiful blonde enter, smiling at her husband. Her two children were beside her.

“Breanna, I want you to meet an old friend of mine from Wichita, Wally Talbot.”

Breanna offered her hand, and as Talbot took it gently, she
said, “I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Talbot.”

Talbot did a slight bow. “The pleasure is mine, ma’am.”

John smiled down at his son and daughter. “Paul, this is Mr. Wally Talbot.”

Paul extended his hand. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Talbot.”

“You too, Paul,” said Talbot, shaking his hand. “How old are you?”

“Eight years old, sir.”

Talbot smiled warmly, then turned to the chief. “Fine young gentleman, he is.” Then he set his eyes on the pretty little girl. “And who is this?”

“Her name is Ginny. Ginny, say hello to Mr. Talbot.”

Taking hold of the sides of her skirt, Ginny curtsied and smiled. “Hello, Mr. Talbot. I’m very happy to meet you. I’m six years old.”

“And a fine young lady,” said Talbot, doing a slight bow.

Ginny then turned to her father and embraced him. Paul joined in and John hugged them both. When they let go of him, Breanna said, “We just finished our grocery shopping, so we’re ready to have our company for dinner tonight. As long as we were this close to the office, we decided to come in and see you.”

John smiled. “Well, it’s always good to see my little family. And I’m glad to know we’ll be able to feed our company tonight.”

Breanna laughed at his dry humor.

Talbot was looking at the children as they stood beside their father, thinking how amazingly Paul’s features resembled his father’s and Ginny’s resembled her mother’s.

Breanna ran her gaze between her husband and the man from Kansas. “So how do you two know each other?”

John grinned. “Well, it goes back to May 1868.”

“When he was known only as The Stranger, ma’am,” added Talbot. “We only met once, but he certainly proved to be my friend.”

Paul’s eyes lit up. He always loved to hear about his father’s past life and hoped to be just like him one day. He grinned from ear to ear, looking up at him. John caught the beam on his son’s upturned face and laid his hand on Paul’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Talbot spoke again. “Your husband saved my life, Mrs. Brockman. I was in town that particular day and a well-known gunfighter by the name of Hatch Wasserman purposely stepped up to me on Main Street and started talking rough to me. I didn’t know who he was, but I knew he was a gunfighter by the way he wore his gun low on his hip and tied down. He was looking for a fight, for sure. I was just a farmer and wore a gun for protection, not because I wanted to get into a gunfight with the likes of him. Your husband happened to be close by, and he could tell by the looks of me I was a farmer, not a gunfighter.

“When I told Wasserman to go away and leave me alone, he took the gunfighter’s stance and challenged me to draw against him. It was then that this man in black moved up, called Wasserman by name, and told him to back off and leave me alone. Then Wasserman drew against your husband, ma’am, and he put him down. Just before Wasserman died there in the dust, he identified this man as the one people called ‘The Stranger.’ ”

Paul looked up and grinned at his father.

Talbot set his eyes on the tall man. “I’d heard of this fella called ‘The Stranger’ who rode all over the West helping people who were in trouble and putting outlaws where they belonged, but I’d never seen him before that day.”

Talbot reached in his pocket and drew out a silver medallion the size of a silver dollar. “Do you remember giving this to me that day?”

Breanna and the children looked at the medallion, then Ginny smiled at her mother. Breanna winked at her.

“I sure do, Wally,” said John.

The medallion was centered with a five-point star, and around the circular edge were inscribed the words: THE STRANGER THAT SHALL COME FROM A FAR LAND.—
Deuteronomy 29:22
.

Wally turned the medallion toward Breanna. “Did you know he gave medallions like this to people he helped out of trouble, ma’am?”

Breanna nodded. “Oh yes. I have one of my own that he gave to me the first time we met. God sent John to me when I needed him.”

Wally arched his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, sir. Really.”

Wally looked back at the tall man. “Something’s been eating at me all these years.”

“What’s that?”

“This ‘far country’ you’re from, Mr. John Stranger—what country is it?”

John smiled. “Oh, that’s a secret, Wally. Only Breanna knows what country it is.”

Wally looked back at Breanna. “Would you let me in on the secret, Mrs. Stranger—er, uh—I mean, Mrs. Brockman?”

Breanna’s blue eyes flashed as she looked from the medallion to her husband with a teasing smile on her face, then turned back to Talbot. “Sorry, sir. That’s a well-guarded secret.”

Wally playfully swung a fist through the air. “Phooey! Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

The Brockman family laughed.

Wally looked at the medallion with affection. “Well, I’ll always treasure this, Chief.” He slipped it back into his pocket. Then he turned to Breanna. “There was something else this husband of yours did that day he saved my life, ma’am.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Right after Wichita’s sheriff and two of his deputies carried Hatch Wasserman’s body away, this John Stranger fella asked me
where I’d be right then if Wasserman had killed me—heaven or hell. I told him I hoped I’d be in heaven, but I didn’t know for sure. He told me I could know for sure I was going to heaven when I die, and he would show me from the Bible if I’d let him. I said I would. He went and got his Bible from his saddlebag, sat me down on a bench in front of the general store, and led me to Jesus. I can tell you right now, ma’am, I know for sure and positive when I take my last breath in this world, I’ll be in heaven with my Saviour.”

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” said Breanna.

“It sure is.”

John spoke up. “Wally told me just before you and the children arrived, Breanna, that he got baptized in the church I recommended there in Wichita, met the lady who is now his wife in that church, and all three of their children are Christians.”

Breanna nodded with a wide smile. “Praise the Lord!”

John’s brow furrowed slightly. “I’m curious, Wally. What brought you here to Denver?”

“I have a friend named Bill Altman from Wichita who now lives up there in the mountains some thirty miles west of Denver in Central City. You know where it is?”

“Oh yes. I’ve been there several times.”

“Well, my friend Bill is dying with consumption, Chief. We knew each other as boys in Kansas, and have kept in touch by mail since Bill moved to Central City about twenty years ago. I’ve been witnessing to him in my letters the past twelve years, giving him Scripture and trying to get him to open his heart to Jesus, but he hadn’t done it yet when I received the letter about his consumption. He’s had it for about four years, but hadn’t told me about it until recently. So I came last week to talk to him, and I had the joy of leading both Bill and his wife to the Lord.”

“That’s great!”

“Yes, sir. Do you know Central City’s physician, Chief?”

“Sure do. Dr. Robert Fraser. He and his wife are both fine Christians.”

“For sure. Well, Dr. Fraser told me that Bill won’t live more than a few weeks. So—so the next time Bill and I meet, it will be in heaven.”

“Well, praise the Lord, Wally. You and Bill will have all eternity together in heaven—no more parting.”

“Yes, we talked about that. And just think, Chief …”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Since you cared enough about me to lead me to the Lord twelve years ago in Wichita, you have a hand in Bill and Darlene Altman’s salvation.”

“Hallelujah!” said John.

Paul looked up at the man from Wichita. “Mr. Talbot, how did you know Papa was now a lawman here in Denver?”

“Well, Paul, about a year ago Wichita’s sheriff told me that the man they called John Stranger was now Chief U.S. Marshal here in Denver, and that his real name was John Brockman. I wasn’t sure your papa would remember me, but since I was planning to come to see Bill Altman, I decided to also see the man who saved my life and led me to the Lord.”

“I’m very glad you did, Wally,” said John.

“The children and I are too,” said Breanna.

“We sure are, Mr. Talbot,” spoke up Paul. “I always like to meet people my papa helped out back when he was known as ‘The Stranger.’ ”

Breanna asked, “When are you leaving for home?”

“I’m scheduled on the eastbound train that leaves Denver at nine-thirty tomorrow morning, ma’am.”

“So you’ll be here in town till tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Since you’re going to be here this evening, I would like to have you come for supper and be an added guest.”

John nodded. “Yes. We’d love to have you, Wally.”

Paul jumped up and down. “Yes! Then we could tell Mr. and Mrs. Tabor and Miss Tharyn about Papa taking out that no-good gunfighter and saving your life, Mr. Talbot!”

Ginny jumped in rhythm with her brother. “And we could tell them about Papa leading you to Jesus too, Mr. Talbot! They’ll really be glad to meet you!”

Wally’s features tinted slightly. He shook his head slowly. “Folks, I really appreciate your invitation, but I wouldn’t want to interfere with you and your guests.”

Breanna shook her head emphatically. “You would
not
be interfering, Mr. Talbot. David and Kitty Tabor and their daughter, Tharyn, are very dear friends of ours. They are sweet and dedicated Christians. I know they would love to meet one of John’s friends from his John Stranger days. My husband has quite a colorful past, and everyone is always fascinated with tales of his travels. They would also enjoy hearing the details of how this led to John bringing you to the Lord. Please say you will have supper with us tonight.”

John laid his hand on Wally’s shoulder. “Yes, Wally. That way you and I can have more time to talk and catch up on more details of each other’s lives since 1868.”

A smile spread over Wally’s face from ear to ear. “Well, okay! Sounds great to me!”

“Good!” exclaimed Breanna. “Well, Paul, Ginny—we’d better head for home.”

“And I’d best be letting you get back to your work, Chief,” said Wally. “I’ll go get me a room at one of the hotels. I have a horse I rented at the Black Saddle Stable here in town. What time would you want me to show up here at the office again so I can go to your house with you?”