The young woman in the generously tailored green dress pouted as she settled in at the bar. Folding her arms into a makeshift pillow and collapsing over them, she decreed, "Boy, it must be tough bein' Sheriff."

Cherry gave her a dark look and returned to his beer, his fifth beer in a limited span of time.

"I wish I could knock off work and go drinkin' in the afternoon." The woman didn't try to mask her sarcasm with a sugary delivery. "Hey, didn't I hear somethin' 'bout a train robbery?"

"Lay off him, Suzette," cautioned the barkeeper. "Like you said, you can't knock off work. If you've got nothin' else to do, you can polish the glasses."

"S'all right," slurred Cherry. "She can jaw if she wants."

"That's fine and good, Sheriff, but I want her polishin' glasses." The barkeeper gestured behind him to a row of shelves with his thumb. "Get to it." The young woman crept off to retrieve a rag. She kept within earshot as she set about her task. The barkeeper leaned close to the lawman. "What's up, Ewald? Usually you're spittin' or sleepin'."

"I just felt like a drink, Harry."

The barkeeper preemptively poured a sixth mug. "What's got you itchin' for poison?"

Cherry sighed. "A little girl tells me she saw an outlaw with two different eyes."

The barkeeper raised his eyebrows. "When? On this train job today?"

"Yessir."

The barkeeper set the new mug far beyond the Sheriff's reach. "Then why the hell are you here gettin' drunk instead of gettin' revenge?"

Cherry frowned. "Because I don't know it's him. I'd hate to get my hopes up and go all in for it to be some other bastard with different eyes."

The barkeeper clicked his tongue. "You know, you could take care of this outlaw regardless of whether he's your outlaw."

"Or I could have a drink at my favorite saloon and think 'bout what I'm gonna do."

The young woman sidled up beside the sheriff, dragging the confiscated beer back into his reach. The barkeep allowed it. "What's the story with you and this outlaw?"

"Hey," said the barkeeper. "Don't harass him."

"It's fine," Cherry said. "Suzette wasn't in town then. Ain't no reason she'd know about it."

"It happened near three years back now," began the barkeeper. Cherry pounded a fist on the bar top.

"It's my story, not yours! You don't know the half of it!"

The barkeeper lifted his hands in surrender. "I'll let you tell it, then. You just let me know when you'd like more to drink."

Cherry took up the new mug and drank to the bottom. "S'like Harry said, three years ago, this mean son of a gun comes into town with a gang of misfits and shoots up the bank."

"I've heard about that," said the young woman.

"Well, seein' as they only got one feller in the shoulder and he was fine after a few months, I figured they got what they wanted and that was that. What the hell am I supposed to do with a gang of bank robbers?" Cherry shook his head. "Put 'em in jail?" He fixed the woman with a jabbing finger. "You know how much of a pain in the ass it is havin' a prisoner to look after? You gotta always be there to watch 'em, and feed 'em, and remember when they're gettin' released..."

"You're the sheriff," reminded the young woman.

"...and a whole gang? Takin' care of a whole gang? No, thank you. So I was fine with lettin' it go..."

"It is truly an injustice that they haven't made you county marshal yet," said the young woman.

"Don't get me started on that," grumbled Cherry.

The young woman waved for another beer. "If you didn't do anythin' to this varmint, what's your dispute with him?"

Cherry eagerly exchanged one mug for the next. "I was fine and dandy with lettin' him ride off. My deputy, however..."

"The thing you have to understand, Suzette," said the barkeeper, cutting in, "is that Sheriff Cherry has a history with his deputies as well."

"That I know," said the young woman. "I've seen him go through at least four since I came to town. No one wants to work with him."

Cherry sniffed indignantly. "They know how I like to do things and if that don't work for them, they can fuc-"

The young woman didn't want the sheriff to meander off topic. She interrupted, "Your deputy wanted to do somethin' 'bout this outlaw?"

Cherry washed down his words. "Yeah, he said if I wasn't fixin' to do anythin', he'd take care of it himself."

"And what happened?"

Cherry hesitated, reliving events behind his glazed eyes. "Well," he said. Then he leaned over the bar and helped himself to the closest bottle.

"You're payin' for that," warned the barkeeper. Cherry waved him off.

"Well," he started again. "I don't know when exactly this bastard and his boys jumped him, but they got the drop on him as he was lookin' into where he thought they might be holed up." The sheriff uncapped the bottle with his teeth and drank a hefty helping. "They tortured him somethin' fierce and then when they were done, they bound his arms and legs to a rock and tossed him into a lake."

"Drowned him, you mean?" clarified the young woman.

Cherry snorted. "He was alive when he went in so... yeah."

"Awful way to go," remarked the barkeeper.

The young woman eyed the sheriff and barked out a laugh. The barkeeper shot her a dirty expression while Cherry remained indifferent. "I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe that you-- you of all people-- were shook up by this. Didn't you stand and watch Cyrus Gunther bleed out when he accidentally chopped his hand off? And didn't you send Pauline Flaherty into that den of rattlers when her baby wandered in by accident on account of it bein' 'her stupid genes that got him in there in the first place'?"

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Cherry didn't see the connection between the events. "So?"

"So," said the young woman, "I find it hard to believe hearin' about one of your many deputies dyin' had any effect on you."

The sheriff sat quietly. He held the bottle in his hands and swirled the liquid within, watching it oscillate at his will. After a spell, he said, "I think I must be inebriated, but I don't mind tellin' you that might be the only death I've ever cared about."

The young woman blinked, taken aback by the somber presentation. This wasn't the Sheriff Cherry she knew. She felt ashamed for her comments. "I didn't mean to--"

"And the thing is," said Cherry, "I don't know why. I mean, it's as Harry says, the deputies and me, we've always got our differences and this guy was the same. Christ, you should have heard how he laid into me. I ain't had anyone close to that since." The edge of his mouth curled slightly upwards. "But for some reason, I liked the guy. I liked havin' him as my second, as my confidant, my right arm."

The young woman nodded vigorously. "You liked him." She winked emphatically.

Cherry gave her an unimpressed look. "Not like that, I didn't."

"What happened next?" asked the young woman.

"The outlaw disappeared and life went on," said Cherry. "But I vowed then and there that if that son of a bitch ever showed his head in Brody's Cross again, I'd kill him myself." He sloshed down another helping of liquor. "'course runnin' down men and exactin' revenge ain't exactly my style."

"You got a gun, don't you?" scoffed the young woman.

"You want to play with it?" taunted Cherry in response, sticking out his tongue.

The young woman rolled her eyes. "I don't think it's that hard to shoot a man."

Cherry was indignant. "You know how much effort goes into maintainin' a firearm? And the cost of ammunition? It ain't cheap."

"Do I have to fix up your gun for you?" growled the young woman and helped herself to the pistol in Cherry's holster. "Where do you keep the oil, Boss?"

"In the back," said the barkeeper.

The young woman pushed up, muttering, "Worse possible sheriff in the whole world."

Cherry gave the barkeeper a drunken leer. "Cute little spitfire, that one. S'her name, anyhow?"

The barkeeper plucked the bottle from Cherry. "And that's the sign you've had enough. Go sleep it off, Sheriff."

The next thing Cherry remembered, he was seated at his desk, sprawled across the top. The darkness around him indicated the arrival of nightfall, though he couldn't recall anything beyond the afternoon. His head pounded and his stomach churned. It took him a minute to recognize the glow of a candle and a minute further to recognize that he was not alone.

"Amanda," he gaped, staring at the handsome woman, her long brown hair pulled back in a bun. She sat on the corner stool, skimming a document from the many awaiting Cherry's signature. She lifted her gaze as he addressed her.

"Good evening, Ewald," she said.

The sheriff rubbed his eyelids and grumbled. "Harry called you in again?"

The woman shrugged. "You were droolin' on his bar. He hardly had a choice."

Cherry chuckled. "Folks are gonna get talkin' if you keep collectin' me."

"I don't do it that much."

"Only when I get tangle-footed."

"You don't get tangle-footed that much," countered Amanda. "But when you do, you do a mighty good job of it." She rose, bringing the candle to the desk. "Besides, the old timers know we've been friends since childhood. They're not gonna let the young folks spread any nasty gossip."

"Did Harry tell you what got me goin'?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes. He did."

"You got anythin' you want to say?"

The woman sighed. "I don't know, Ewald. Do you want me to say anythin'?"

"No," admitted the sheriff. "Only that I didn't show you this side of myself." He straightened up, cracking his spine. "Ah, that feels better."

"What are you gonna do about that outlaw?"

Cherry ran his tongue over his teeth. "Kill him, I suppose. I said I would. Guess that means I got to or I ain't ever goin' sit right with conscience."

Amanda fidgeted with her hands. "That's it? You're gonna go confront him by your lonesome and shoot him down?"

"I ain't decided how I'm goin' to deal with him. Shootin' him was--" He patted at his holster. "Did Suzette ever give my gun back?"

Amanda nodded and pointed off into the shade of the office.

"Shootin' him was her idea."

"I'm amenable to helpin' you come up with colorful alternatives," said Amanda with the hint of a smirk.

"I reckon I have to determine if it's the right feller first."

Amanda pulled the stool next to the desk and sat beside Cherry. "How many bastards have got eyes like that?"

"More than you might think," said Cherry. He hadn't seen any others but there was more than Brody's Cross out there.

"And what's this I hear about you goin' to talk to Lacey Tate on behalf on Lindsey Pieth?"

Cherry chuckled. "I wonder where you heard about that."

"What are you actually playin' at, Ewald?" Amanda demanded. "You can say whatever you like, but I know for a fact you're not in the practice of doin' favors that don't benefit you."

It was no use trying to deceive her. There was a reason, Cherry figured, Amanda had wound up married to Jeff Schim. He didn't resent either of them for it. He was among the many who agreed they made a perfect pair. Sometimes, though, he wondered what would have happened if he'd acted on childhood infatuation and asked her first. There was always admitting his attraction for the sake of getting it off his chest, but he didn't see it happening. He wasn't that kind of guy and she wouldn't have appreciated it. They were better as old friends. "Lindsey Pieth gave Lacey Tate a ring..."

Amanda swatted him in the ear. It stung. His head stung from the booze. The overall stinging only intensified when the woman shrieked, "Ewald Cherry, don't you dare think of stealin' from an Asper!"

"He gave it to Lacey," Cherry began. "She doesn't need it anymore."

"I don't rightly care whether she thinks she needs it or not!" snapped Amanda. "Lindsey Pieth is Levi Asper's nephew and godson. If he thinks you're cheatin' his family out of anythin', you're gonna be in big trouble."

"Levi doesn't think of Lindsey as kin," said Cherry. "He lets him loiter around the manor since the old man's his grandfather but there's no love between 'em."

"Maybe not now, but the moment he thinks he can use it against you, he will."

Cherry was flippant. "I haven't done anything against the Aspers. Levi don't got any quarrel with me."

Amanda huffed, settling down having said her piece. "This ring-- is it a nice ring?"

"Eight rubies," said Cherry.

"Eight rubies?" gasped Amanda. "That's more than nice, Ewald."

"I know."

The woman stared at him. She said nothing further, just stared, taking in the man who had somehow become sheriff. Eventually, she got up and returned the stool to the corner. "I should probably mosey on. If I stay too long, people will talk."

Cherry arched an eyebrow. "Who was it that said the old timers wouldn't let that happen?"

"Even the old timers have their limits," said Amanda ."Look, we never had this talk 'bout the Pieth ring. I didn't even hang around after droppin' you off. I don't want folks thinkin' worse of you than they already do."

"Or thinkin' I tried to tempt you into sin," corrected Cherry. "I know what they expect from me."

Amanda stopped in the doorway, throwing back one final coquettish remark. "Oh, Ewald?"

"Yeah?"

"I hear Herman Tate's gone missin'?"

"It depends who you ask," said Cherry.

"Not sayin' you should act on your whims, but Levi Asper's tryin' to find where he's at. It might be easier to persuade him that a desperate brother made off with a missin' piece of jewelry than a dishonest lawman."

"That's good to know," said Cherry. "That's very good to know."