Clockwork Cowboy

Chapter 17

Jese glanced around The Little River Saloon. Nothing had changed. If it weren't for the guise of his unwieldy top hat and face consuming spectacles, he might have forgotten that he'd ever left. Nova's assault (and everything else that had followed) might have simply been erased from memory.

Turning bodily, Jese scanned the room for the two cattle rustlers. He felt his boots stick to the Tavern's hardwood floor. Generous amounts of beer - enticed downwards by gravity - had turned the entire bar tacky underfoot. About him, saloon girls fought to keep their dainty slippers on their feet.

A small frown formed on his brow. With the perfect mixture of bravado and stupidity, the two rustlers - Jese had decided - would struggle to avoid the Tavern that night. All Jese needed to do was spot them.

He wouldn't have minded the search if it weren't for the smell of the place. The warm stench of beer and body odor were enhanced by a rancid gas... Incredibly drunk cowboys breaking wind. Jese had tried to spot the gassy perpetrator, yet no one wore a guilty expression. Perhaps their bowel movements went unheeded as the competition over the tired looking saloon girls heated up.

The sight of the girls trying not to breath through their nose brought Jese's mind back to his fiancee. How a beautiful specimen like Nova Radcliffe was penniless and nearly homeless in this town, with her looks and the obvious lack of competition about, was a complete mystery to him.

His jaw tightened at the thought of her predicament. Nova's bad luck had worked out very well for him. Too well. But, instead of feeling celebratory, doubt had started gnawing at his gut. The possibility that maybe she deserved better than him. Maybe she deserved a partner that would love and cherish her, not someone like him who had nothing to offer but a moment of financial security. He was starting to feel a strange emotion... Pity.

Jese nearly recoiled in shock. He had obviously drunk too much if he was having such idiotic thoughts. A woman like Nova wouldn't notice a good man if he walked straight into her in the vast wilderness. She was never going to marry for love, so he didn't need to feel guilty about marrying her for security.

But even if he had no intention of helping her find a future with a man far more adequate than he was he did have enough heart to protect her from these scoundrels out to poach her cattle. Or, he thought dubiously, maybe he was just looking after himself? After all, those bulls were supposed to be his in a few days time. His lips tightened menacingly.

Finding the two was a difficult task. The rowdy night meant that the bar was elbow to elbow with excited patrons, and trying to see through them or around them was a feat of genius... the kind of genius that he wasn't capable of.

With his elbow propped on the bar and his eye on the crowd, Jese took a sip of the mandatory whisky which the barkeep had skidded, across the roughly planed surface of the bar, in his direction. It wasn't the finest liquor that he'd had the good grace to partake in, but he treated it as if it were a well-aged drop.

"Back again?" The barkeep remarked.

Jese nodded. So the man had seen through his terrible disguise, he pushed his spectacles up his nose. Hopefully, the men he sought weren't as observant.

"You'll be leaving soon?"

"I might not," Jese replied. Secrecy and silence were desirable traits for bar staff in this land of outlaws and new beginnings. In comparison to others, this Barkeep had an insatiable curiosity. "I've taken a liking to the area."

An aging Saloon Girl bustled in beside Jese, as the Barkeep moved away. Her hoop skirts chafed his leg, and elbow jabbed his ribs. The woman clutched a fraying handbag to her person protectively, as if she thought she was to be mugged imminently. Jese noticed her lips trembling.