Chapter 5

The mayor’s house was easily recognizable, even in the dark streets of the town. For one… the town had maybe a dozen buildings. So not many buildings to try and choose from. And beyond that, well… there were only a total of three, two-story houses. One, was the heart and soul of any proper town, the saloon. The second, on the one side of the saloon, was the hotel. And on the other, well, that was the mayor’s house. Considering most of the business would happen at those two other buildings, it made sense that in such a small town as this, the mayor would put his house there.

As we approached, the sounds of the saloon betrayed the dead feeling of the town. Laughter, shouting, music, and other sounds of the night came from the telltale batwing doors of the Saloon, and the open windows of the second floor. Most of those rooms upstairs were dark, but the sounds coming from there were enough to ensure anyone listening that the people inside were very much alive.

Not that I was a modest man by any means, but as I heard some of those sounds, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of heat reaching my face as I looked at Emma. There were some things that just weren’t proper, after all. And well, night noises while in the company of one such as Emma didn’t seem right.

If they bothered her though, she didn’t show it. She paid no mind to the saloon, made no comment about the sounds, and instead rode right up to the mayor’s house and tossed her stirrups on the hitching post. Clint reached her just as she was leaping from her horse, not having bothered to wait for him to help her down. At every step of the way, Emma continued to prove she didn’t view herself as fragile or delicate, and while she spoke so highly of decorum and proper mannerisms that needed to be upheld, when she wasn’t in ‘proper company’ she was quick to skirt those rules herself.

The door to the house opened as I neared it. A young boy rushed out quickly, heading towards the hitching post that Emma and Clint were currently working to affix their horses to. As the boy reached for the stirrups, another figure stepped out of the doorway. He was an older gentleman, with dark hair streaked with silver. He had a pointed goatee, and a twisted moustache that gave him a predatory, opportunistic look. His beady eyes glanced to Emma, before dancing across Clint, to me. He pushed the door open further, the lamplight from within serving to better illuminate the area around his front porch.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d actually arrive tonight,” the man said, clasping his hands together in front of him. He had a portly stomach and was dressed sharply. It was obvious he’d been waiting up for us, as he’d not changed into his night clothes. “It’s reckless traveling this late at night.”

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“You’ve always said I have a bit of a reckless streak,” Emma laughed as she walked towards the man. Instead of holding out a hand, the man spread his arms wide, and the two shared a quick embrace. “Its arguably one of my best qualities,” Emma said through the hug.

“It’s the most prominent quality of your father’s that has stuck, with you,” the man patted her on the back, before he let go, “that’s for sure.” He held her at arms-length, looking her over and tutting as he did. “It pains me to hear you’ve run into so much trouble.” He looked back at the boy, who had finished seeing to Emma’s horse, and was now working on Clint’s. I hopped off Baron and moved to stand beside Clint in the process.

“Come, let us discuss matters inside, outside of the chill of the night.” He looked at Clint, and then me. “And I can have Clara warm up something for everyone to eat. You’ve been through a lot, and I’m eager to hear it all.”

Emma nodded and followed the man inside. I looked at Clint, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s the mayor of Bison’s Rest,” Clint said quietly. “He’s an old friend of Emma’s father. He actually established Bison’s Rest as a way to… get out of the way of Bloody Bill when Emma’s father passed away.”

“I see,” I looked at the boy, who was stroking Ghost’s mane, whispering softly to the horse as he worked to secure him. “And the boy?”

“The Mayor’s son.” Clint said, “and Clara’s the Mayor’s wife. You’ll get proper introductions once were inside. It might take a little though. He’s quite the talker, and any time he gets a chance to chat with Emma, well,” he snorted, “you’ll see.”

“Alrighty then,” I followed Clint towards the doorway as we continued our discussion. Inside I could hear the mayor and Emma quickly talking back and forth. It was as if we’d been forgotten.

“He’s good people, if you’re close to him,” Clint said softly as we walked up the steps. He kicked his boots against the wood, knocking the dust and dirt clear of them before he stepped inside. “But he’s also a businessman through and through. He’s quick of wit, and has a tongue laced with gold. I’ve always found it’s best to let him an’ Miss Watts do the talking. Else you’ll find yourself telling him secrets you’d not realized you had before the night is done.”

“Emma doesn’t have any normal acquaintances, does she?” I asked, half a jest.

“Unfortunately for us,” Clint grinned, “not that I know of. Then again,” he continued as I kicked the dust off my own boots, and we finally stepped inside the house. “I’m not sure you can say much on the matter.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer than was comfortable, and I could tell he wanted to say something else. However, he stopped himself, and then turned his back fully on me as he headed towards the sound of Emma and the Mayor’s voices, now joined in with a third voice, Clara, if I had to guess.

With Clint’s words on my mind, I followed the man into the Mayor’s house, wondering once more if letting the two of them accompany me on my trip northward was really all that wise. Then again, with Emma being the only one I knew of that could teach me what I needed to know to refine my core to the next level, I didn’t have a choice.

I hated not having choices.