Peacemaker

Chapter 10

By the time I had rode into that town, a storm from hell had rolled in. Rain ran like a river down the brim of my hat. Abel was caked in mud from his hooves to his knees. I really did feel bad for him. Never moved him out of a walk since the first drops hit the ground, but he heaved and sighed as he trudged through the mud. As we got closer, I could see the lamp lights of the saloon, a run down but still sturdy stable, and a mud river running down main street. I rode Abel into the stable, paid for a stall, and trudged through the mud myself. By the time I had got through the door, it felt like lead weights were weighing down my feet. 

After taking a seat at a table, I took off my waterlogged hat, shaking what little water I could off. I finally knew how come cats hated being drenched. The saloon was full, nearly bursting with cowboys, ranchers, and regular townsfolk. The piano rang loud, folks were whooping and hollering, the bartender never seemed to take a break, working girls were roaming the barroom, and patrons were making the best of being stuck indoors. As I sat there, just trying to dry out, one of the girls walked up to me. She sat down on the table in front of me. 

"You look cold Mister. I could warm you up, if you have the cash." She said leaning forward. She was trying to entice me with more primal desires, but my old man warned me about the working girls. The sorts of things they pass on from customer to customer. 

I looked at her, gave a harmless smile, and declined her offer. "No thank you, miss. just being inside during this storm will dry me out plenty."

She giggled. "Well, what if I talk to the bartender and get you something to sway your decision." 

Again, I declined. Slightly less subtle this time. "I said I'm trying to keep dry, miss. Besides, I really don't have the money for any diversions at the moment."

Her girlish demeanor soured as she stood up. "Shit. What are you, a preacher or something?"
She muttered as she walked away,  disappointed. 

I sat there as she moved on to her next potential customer. As I did, the bartender had finally been relieved by who I reckoned was an employee. Enough downtime to get out from behind the bar. He walked over to the only free table in the saloon and took a seat, right across from me. As he did so, he rolled a cigarette and lit it. "Damn, I love and hate storms like these, mister. A ton of cash, but I rarely get a minute to think between serving drinks and stopping brawls. God bless that kid." He exhaled a plume of smoke. "Are you new in town?" He asked, leaning on the table.

I nodded slowly, "Yup, just rode in. Swung by to get out of the rain."

The bartender nodded, holding his cigarette between his lips. "Well, welcome to Elk River. Got nearly everything here. General goods, this fine establishment, and plenty of work. If you're fine with selling your soul to our local cattle baron, that is." He seemed less than happy at that last remark. Like he was talking about some curse. He looked back to me, "So, what brings you out this way mister? You some hired gun?"

I looked down to the table and chuckled. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. It's kinda ridiculous."

The bartender seemed twice as interested now. "Really now?" He leaned forward. "You got business with the baron? Or is it something else?"

I sighed and felt my still wet hat. "Nah, I work for someone way bigger than your baron."

The bartender edged closer. "You a Marshall?"

I shook my head, I had just backed myself into a corner. So a half truth was my only way out. "No. You could say I work for the man upstairs, friend."

The bartender looked at me a moment, perplexed. "Well, I suppose that's something. Not a Marshall or lawman per say. But, folks do need some sort of hope. Especially around here."