Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy || Iron Golem x GN/NB! reader

Chapter 1; Way Down South

   

   The clinking of glasses followed by the bursting laughter of middle aged men and women filled the room, almost like a side dish to the blaring heat and live country music. 'Man I'm hungry.'
   I stepped in through the saloon doors, the noises from inside being amplified ten times. The smell of mutton and burnt bread stank up the place, but the overbearing stink of booze was enough to cover up the stench from the kitchen. It wasn't just the sounds of the Sand Barrel that increased, so did the heat. It felt like mid-day in the damn place, despite being sunset outside.

    I settled on a barstool, stretching my muscles. I was riding for hours, probably since around this time yesterday. I had no choice but to flee with Cash, finding refuge in the closest city, safe outside the Bull Rider's territory. I cracked my neck, wishing I could go back to test out the bed back at the inn, and possibly assure my Cash was alright.
   I waved the bartender down, looking over my options while she got here. I tried to look for anything familiar between the bug juice, but all coffin varnishers have the same effect, don't they? Maybe I'll ask the lady for her recommendation.

   "Hey there. What'cha need, doll?" 'Speak of the devil she doth appear,' I thought. The bartender had deep cinnamon skin, plump and warm-looking. Her half-lidded eyes showed how tired she was. Even then, her voice and thick southern accent seemed wide awake.
   "What'd you recommend?" Her eyes nearly bulged out their sockets.
   "Well, you're not from around here, are ya?" Taken aback, I suddenly remembered I wasn't back home. 'Best be polite.'
   "Ah, no, I'm from up north. Eh, well, not too far up, a day's trip."
   "What could a sweet thing like you have to do down here? I don't suppose it's like your lavish cities on up."
   "Don't worry, I can handle this just fine."
   "Oh, I'm sure you can-" She glanced behind me, jumping a bit. "What was it you said you needed, sugar?" She distanced herself from me a bit, no longer leaning on the hot wood of the bar.

   Heavy steps dragged themselves from the entrance deep into the saloon.
   "Ah, I'll go with a..." I paused as did the footsteps from behind me. The lady in front of me stared down, almost hiding herself.
  'Who-'

  A large hand gripped my shoulder and almost threw me out my stool as it spun me around.

  "What do you think you're doing here?" A tall man stood before me imposingly. 'What the hell...' He wore a pretty standard cream collared shirt, a white kerchief with a variety of colour and patterns, brown cotton waistcoat, elk hide chaps, and a long, long, long leather jacket. He had a square facial shape, a "no bullshit" demeanour to him.

  "Huh?" The dirty blonde scoffed, rolling his oddly gorgeous... crimson eyes. Strange. He stared down at me harder, questioning if I had the gut to ignore him.

   I would've loved to glare back, but I had the decency to not act like a lunatic, much less start something in a place I'm new to. "Answer the damn question. Who sent you here?"
   I gritted my teeth, about to give him a nasty remark before I felt multiple pairs of eyes on the two of us. I looked around the saloon when I noticed the silence. The band has stopped playing. The band has stopped playing.

   I swallowed down my anger, rationalizing my situation. There was no damn way I was about to escalate this when the whole saloon was waiting for any reason to pounce.
   I tensed under the pressure I was receiving from the people in the room. I could hear the clicks and spins of rowels and belt knives as I thought carefully what the next words out my mouth were going to be.

   "I'm just a passerby."
   "The Bull Rider. I've seen you with him, you work for him." As soon as the words 'bull rider' left his mouth, I heard the undeniable sound of pistols being drawn. I slowly raised my hands, showing I meant no harm.
   "How 'bout we discuss this over a drink?" He stayed quiet. "I don't bite." I whispered to him. He softened his glare a little, giving a raise of his hands to signal the saloon patrons to put back their guns and knives.
   There was a split-second of burning silence as the large man sat himself on the stool next to mine. Only when he faced the bartender did the band resume and people slowly went to continue their conversations.

783 Words,
3.5.23

*This takes place in a fantasy world, not Earth