Brother's Keeper (Justice, Montana)

[Andy McCall]

She'd been out of jail for a few days now. Long enough for her bad mood and angry thoughts on Roy Mullins to settle some. Not all the way, but now they'd been reduced to a simmer. Andy wasn't about to forget what he done. Doc Lenard had visited her in her cell and patched her up some more, and once out, Andy went back to him and had the gunshot redressed. He'd fussed at her some, but it was nothing unusual. Doctors did that she figured.

Mr. Truss was as good as his word, and'd had her mare put up at the Half Moon. Course now the horse was outside of Doc's infirmary at the hitching post and waiting patiently for Andy to finish up her visit.

Stepping out of the door, she scratched absently at an itch on her arm as Doc Lenard followed her out.

"And don't do anything that'll aggravate it, Andy. Last thing you want is for it to get so infected that I gotta saw your leg off."

"Don't worry."

Andy knew that it was a threat that held at least some water, and she moved to stand at the porch railing. She nodded at the doctor as he handed her a small cloth-wrapped bottle.

"And stay out of jail this time. If you need laudinum, come to me and not that Chinaman."

"Yes sir."

She stared down the road, squinting into the sun. Maybe she hoped to see Jim out and about?

It was futile; he'd already left town.

[Harold Alexander Truss]

The Mayor could watch her excuse herself from jail, as he had a vantage of it all. He sipped coffee from a flecked ceramic mug, with the blinds drawn at his office. He'd been stoic about this latest debacle and otherwise let her serve her time alone, though he did hear from the grapevine that Two Dollar Jim paid her a short visit before pulling out of town.

The Mayor sighed, setting down his coffee. That looked like an averted disaster at least. Every day that Jim was in town it felt like his throat was tight. But he'd dispensed with that threat to face a new one. His gamble with the Mullins clan hadn't paid off.

As Andy made her way onto the main drag, he wondered how she'd take that news.

[Andy McCall]

Where would she go from here? Seemed like she didn't really have all that much planned for the day except to visit Doc Lenard, and Andy found herself stopping in the middle of the road, the mare at her heels. She looked back the way she'd come, then tracked her gaze across to he mayor's office. Weren't nothing to speak of with Truss, and she let her eyes keep going down the road.

The Sockeye was as good a place as any to drum up some cash and put her in better spirits, so Andy started forward once more. She wasn't gonna go lookin' for someone to bed, since Doc Lenard had expressly forbid that, but he'd said nothin' about playing cards.

Maybe after a few hours she'd head back home and sleep off the day. Was about as much as she felt like doing, really.

[Harold Alexander Truss]

The Mayor scrubbed his schedule for the next two hours, and grabbed his overcoat and hat to take a stroll. He figured Andy for a creature of habit, and that he'd find her making minor trouble at the Sockeye. That, he calculated, was the best spot to catch up with her.

He walked down the thoroughfare and toward the Sockeye, pushing through the double doors as inconspicuously as possible.

[Andy McCall]

Normally Andy was easy to spot in the Sockeye, a rowdy little blonde who always had a crowd around her and a bottle or two in front of her. But now, owing to the nature of her frame of mind, Andy had holed herself up at a table by herself. Strange, how walking in with certain intentions she'd figured on just sitting alone and nursing a glass of whiskey.

She pulled out the harmonica Jim had given to her, toying with it and twirling it in circles on the weathered tabletop.

She didn't even notice when someone came to stand on the other side of the table, and when she did, Andy stopped playing with the harmonica to look off to the side.

"Got it legal this time," she sighed, pulling out the wrapped laudinum bottle and setting it beside the instrument.

[Harold Alexander Truss]

"Good to know."

The Mayor didn't give a damn, as long as she was able to keep her nose clean. He hated to put her in the clink, and she didn't care for being there. He took the seat across from her after draping his coat on the back, and set his hat aside.

"How's the leg?"

[Andy McCall]

"Still there."

Andy tipped her glass up, looking at Truss from over the rim. She set it down gently, and gave the Mayor a shrug.

"Suspect it'll be 'round for a while."

Leaning back in her seat, Andy set a hand on the harmonica and pulled it from the table, replacing it in her pocket. She stared at Truss, wondering why he was here. Normally when he came to the saloon it was to socialize with new arrivals or break up a fight with his deputies. He might not've been the sheriff, but he was still mayor aand exercised his authority accordingly.

"Don't figure you came in here for just a drink."

Andy looked back over her shoulder at the door, then back to Truss.

"Roy come back to accuse me of somethin' new?"

[Harold Alexander Truss]

He didn't immediately answer, instead snapping his finger at the barkeep.

"Tad, you have a single malt on hand?"

The mustachioed bartender dutifully plucked a dusty bottle from his shelf, filling a tumbler halfway with the smoky, peaty whisky. He set it across from the mayor on a napkin. When he returned to the bar, Mr. Truss's lower lip curled over his teeth.

"Crawfish is back in town."

[Andy McCall]

She didn't even bat an eye. Instead, Andy just let out an annoyed sigh. In some ways she felt bad for the mayor, havin' to deal with folk like the Mullins clan.

"Ain't surprised, to be honest."

Andy rose slightly from her seat then, moving to the chair beside Truss so that her back was no longer towards the door. Best to stay sharp now.

"Least you tried t'keep 'im out."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

Stormclouds were rolling in his eyes, and he just looked ahead, nursing his scotch.

"It's just a matter of time, I suppose. That oaf's gonna do something cross and kick over all sorts of hell. As hard as I try to push him on up the trail, that fool's going to put down roots here, and bring all of his usual baggage."

Another drink. He looked at Andy.

"Eventually I'm gonna have to throw the book at that heel. And when I do, this town's going to hell in a handbasket."

[Andy McCall]

Andy pursed her lips and took a sip from her glass.

"Wish I knew how t'help."

Pulling the bottle of laudinum closer, she carefully undid the stopper. She wouldn't take any in front of the Mayor, but without a handful of cards to occupy her fingers, opening and closing the bottle was just as good a substitute.

Finally.

"Jim said I shoulda shot 'im when I had the chance. Don't fancy havin' my own swingin' party though."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

The mayor gave her a funny expression.

"You think you'd swing over a cur like Crawfish? Maybe if you'd done him in with a meat tenderizer and ate his spleen while praising Satan. Pretty white ladies don't tend to swing, even ones with interesting habits."

[Andy McCall]

"Ain't no killer, Truss."

Bored of the laudinum bottle, Andy leaned back and set her eyes to the door.

"Sides. Law is the law here in town, and even I don't got a notion to cross over th'line with both feet."

But, what he said made her wonder, and Andy chewed on her bottom lip.

"Even if I did that, his kin'd come callin'. I know you don't want that."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

The Mayor waved a hand with a weak smile.

"I was just asking rhetorical questions."

Still, the words had been said, which began to turn some interesting thoughts about in his head too. There was a high probability now that things would end up with blood, and Truss, while no stranger to the subject from afar, was keen to minimize his exposure to it. He now wondered if he should avoid it unto the last, or turn to face the approaching wolf on his tail.

[Andy McCall]

That smile was one she'd seen a few times. Meant he'd started thinking on something. Given the nature of their conversation, Andy wasn't sure exactly what was going on in the Mayor's head, or whether she wanted to know either.

Upending her glass, Andy finished the dregs of her whiskey. Picking up the bottle, she slowly rose to her feet with a groan.

"Best get to figurin' stuff out then. Don't know what you could do to run that oaf outta town," she pushed her chair in towards the table.

"... aside from torturin' him."

[Harold Alexander Truss]

He met her eyes briefly, turning them back to his glass for another drink.

"Don't think he'd take the hint, personally."

He drank methodically, not able to enjoy the drink in front of him. It was just something to occupy his body while his mind was here, and everywhere.

How had he gotten into this mess? Nine out of ten days being Mayor of a town like Justice was a slice of heaven. He really felt like he was doing meaningful work. Then a day rolled around like this and he wondered just how frighteningly easy it would be to watch it all burn in the span of a sparrow's song.

[Roy Mullins]

Just outside of town

RoyMullins sat atop his horse, a small pack of mangy dogs surrounding him. None strayed too far from their master, as they'd been trained to never do anything without a word from him.

On a small hill the gave a normally peaceful view of Justice, Roy sat fuming in his saddle. He spit a stream of tobacco to the side, rolling his tongue over his front teeth in thought.

Finally, he leaned back a little as if to stretch, and turning to the left, he scowled at the younger man at his side.

"Tell me again what he done."

[Crawfish Mullins]

Crawfish shook his head energetically, his eyes wide open and blank. He was being compelled to look in a place where he did not want to look.

"He ain't done nothin' Big Roy. Ain't d-done nothin'."

Sweat beaded on his shiny red face as his slack jaw trembled a bit.

[Roy Mullins]

This was getting tiresome.

Roy leaned liesurely on the saddlehorn and fixed his eyes on his nephew. His gaze was in stark contrast to the way his body moved, and the look on his face was one that Crawfish had seen many times before.

"You tell me. I don't care if you're my sister's boy... if you don't say anything I'll put the dogs on you."

[Crawfish Mullins]

"No please!"

He fell to his knees, shielding himself with open palms as if the mere words were weapons. He sat on the ground on the verge of a sob, shaking like a leaf.

"Ain't gon' go back on him. I felt like I was a-gon' die. Like I jus' drownin' in a river."