Walkers Creek - A Western

He slides off his horse beside her.

'You really shouldn't ride a horse without a saddle you know.'

'I was brought up on a farm by dogs remember. I know how to ride a horse.'

'So you were riding bareback for fun, or because you really were in that much of a hurry to find your girl? Was she really that pretty?'

She finds herself feeling a little jealous of the girl, even though she doesn't know who she is or what is going on with Logan and her.

'It's not like that. I was in a hurry--' he trails off.

'That's it? You chased her all the way out here. What did you want her for?'

He picks up a stone and tosses it into the creek.

'It's a bit more complicated than just chasing a pretty girl. I wish it wasn't but there it is.'

'You're not going to tell me another tall tale are you?'

'No. I'm guessing you didn't see her come by so I lost her trail somewhere.'

She is suspicious. What is he thinking about that he doesn't want to tell her? He looks distracted and unhappy.

'It might help if you told me,' she offers.

He shakes his head.

'You're worried about telling me? Who am I going to tell?'

'I didn't get to be as old as this without being a bit more cautious than that Miss Nixon. Why shouldn't I think she led me here to you deliberately?'

If only she really had thought of that. She makes a mental note to consider something like that in the future.

'You can call me Emily,' she says, to lighten the mood.

He swings back up onto his horse.

'You're going so soon?' she says.

'You know, when we were talking yesterday I said I wasn't planning on staying in Walkers Creek. I still don't plan on sticking around, but every minute I'm spending with you makes me want to stay a bit longer.'

He turns the horse and splashes across the creek. She determines to try to make him stay in town. They get on too well to let this go.

'You could try the saloon,' she calls after him.

'What?' he stops and twists awkwardly on the horse's back to hear her.

'To find the girl. They might know who she is in the saloon.'

She watches Logan ride off, knowing that the deputy has watched the whole exchange from his vantage point behind her.

CHAPTER NINE

So far he has avoided the saloon. There was trouble enough waiting for him at the hotel with that charade that Humby and the Sheriff concocted with the limping man. Visiting the saloon seemed like asking for trouble. But now he has reason to go there. This girl must be known by someone and everyone is pointing in the this direction even if it is for the wrong reasons.

It is getting towards noon as Logan strolls warily up the street. The cheerful smiles of the people that pass by and the fact that he's the only one wearing a gun no longer fool him into thinking of Walkers Creek as a perfect town. The naïve lack of concern is just a façade. Underneath it is just as crooked and dangerous as anywhere else.

Flies buzz round something spilled on the porch of the saloon. Raised voices inside tell him that the place at least isn't empty. He pushes through the doors and heads for the bar, half-expecting the noise to stop as he walks in. Nobody reacts, not even the barman.

In the corner four men are sat around a table playing cards. Four more are stood watching, occasionally remarking in loud voices about the action in the game.

'They've been playing all night.' says the barman, finally putting down the glass he's been polishing.

'A big money game then?' says Logan.

'I doubt it. Doesn't stop them thinking they're playing a game that'll go down in legend as one of the great poker games of all time.'

'Those sort of games usually end with someone getting shot.'

'So long as it isn't in here they can do what they like. Anyway, what can I get you?'

He orders a beer. He tastes it but it isn't good. He decides to get to the issue as quickly as possible so he doesn't have to drink too much of this stuff.

'I came in to ask about a girl.'

The barman raises an eyebrow.

'It's early, but it shouldn't be a problem. Take a seat.' And the barman departs quickly through a door behind the bar before Logan can say anything more.

He sits down at a table a little apart from the rowdy card game. The people in this nice town seem remarkably quick to assume that you're looking for a prostitute. He begins to wonder if it is something about his appearance that gives that impression. He takes off his new white hat to look at it. Does it make him look like a man who buys women?

'Hi there, you can buy me a drink.' she says in a tired voice, too tired to try to be alluring. She's wearing a blur of red silk and black lace but it looks bunched and tucked in odd places as though it has been pulled on in a hurry. She probably has a pretty face under all the make-up. Her lipstick is a little smeared. She pulls up a chair and sits very close beside him. She is wearing a powerful flowery perfume that makes him gag a little with the foul tasting beer. He tries not to think about what smells the perfume is meant to mask.

'Good morning. Who might you be?' He says. He finds the thought of this woman in bed quite distasteful, especially so early in the day, but he realizes that she'll be a good opportunity to find out about who delivered his note with his breakfast.

'I'm Brandy. Your wife kick you out of bed early or have you not been home yet?' She tries a smile. A couple of teeth are missing.

'Up all night? Not me, but those boys seem to be managing it alright.' He points at the card game which has gone quiet for a moment.

'Them?' she laughs. It's a mean laugh that ends in a sneer. 'They can't hold their liquor and they ain't no better at going without sleep than I am. Their heads are so empty it's taking them an hour to play a hand.'

'Who are they? Miners?'

'You don't know?'

'I'm from out of town.'

'That one sat down on the left, Jake Capstan, he's the foreman of the mine. The others work for him. Oh, except for the one with his back to you. That's Frank Lake.' The limping man again.

'Shot himself in the foot?' he says.

'I thought you said you didn't know them.'

'I had the pleasure of Frank's company yesterday. I'm not keen to repeat the experience.'

'Do you want to go upstairs?'

He looks at the stairs. Even if he wanted to go up the stairs, there was no way he was going to make it to them without attracting Frank's attention.

'Oh wait, you from out of town? Are you the man that punched down Frank Lake in the hotel yesterday?'

Logan nods hesitantly, wondering where this is leading. She reaches over and kisses him hard on the lips. She tastes of aniseed.

'Well done. I wish I'd seen it. I've been wanting to knock that fool down since the first day I set eyes on him.'

She calls over the barman and whispers something in his ear.

Just then a man emerges from one of the rooms and starts heading down the stairs adjusting his pants. Logan recognizes him immediately. It is McLaren.

'Now this man has a story.'

'Is he a miner too?' he tries to feign ignorance.

'I guess he might be now. He used to have a little cabin up the valley. He pretended to do some farming but I reckon he's a cattle rustler. Anyway, he must have stolen the wrong man's cattle because someone stuck some dynamite down his chimney and blew up that little cabin.'

'Lucky for him they didn't hang him for stealing cattle.'

'Oh nobody can prove nothing about that. And even if they could his friend Mr. Humby would look after him. Seems to me like he's being looked after okay right now if he can afford to spend the night here every night. Working his way through the girls one by one.'

McLaren has wandered over to watch the card game and is greeted noisily by the others.