Post by Ghost on Jul 30, 2009 12:25:45 GMT -5
My sister and I came up with the idea for this one a while back, and since people liked it... For your reading enjoyment, "Irish Cowboys" returns.
IRISH COWBOYS
In the days when cowboys ruled the west, when shoot-outs were common, when bad guys wore all black and good guys were expert gunmen, when women were delicate flowers and yet tougher than nails, there was a western town in Kansas called New Moy.
One bright and clear day, Sharon Black, owner of the most popular saloon in New Moy, McGinty's Pub, decided to open her doors a few hours early.
A bad decision, as it were, because that prompted the local drinker-but-never-drunkard, a blonde man named Keith who seemed more suited to California than Kansas, to come in and immediately help himself to a Guinness.
Now, Sharon and her barmaid, Zara, were used to Keith's antics, and they paid him no heed, as long as he paid for the booze and didn't cause trouble. Phil, Sharon's piano-playing partner, sat at his instrument, tinkering away at a new piece he had begun writing the day before. A local cowboy, Neil, sat in the far corner of the saloon, hat covering his eyes, feet on the table, strumming his guitar.
All was typically quiet—the only noise coming from the piano, guitar, and the soft swoosh of Zara's broom—when the swinging doors opened and in walked a tall and tough man. The gold star on his vest glittered in the dim lighting of the saloon.
"Howdy, Sharon," the tall man said.
"Howdy, Sheriff Donaldson. What'll you have?"
"I think… I'll have an ale."
The sheriff looked at Keith, who sat in his barstool, hunched over his drink. Sharon shrugged as she retrieved Donaldson's drink from the bar.
"How long have you been here today, Keith?" Sheriff Donaldson asked.
Keith flicked the brim of his hat up, gave the sheriff a smirk, and finished his Guinness. "Not long enough. Sharon, can I have another?"
She was about to reply when the saloon doors swung open and banged against the walls. Everyone in the bar stopped and looked to the sound of the intrusion, with the exception of Phil and the local cowboy Neil, who were used to this kind of thing all the time. Zara stopped sweeping. Sharon paused with Sheriff Donaldson's ale in her hand. The sheriff froze in the middle of removing his hat. Even Keith looked up from the glass in front of him.
An unfamiliar man stood just inside the doors, his hat brim pulled low over his eyes. He was tall and swanky—the swankiest cowboy the townspeople had ever laid eyes on. As they watched, he took the hat off his head, revealing thick, brown hair and deep blue eyes.
"Howdy, y'all," he said in a smooth voice. "What kind of drink can a tired cowboy get around here?"
"Anything you'd like, stranger," Sharon said as she handed Donaldson his ale.
"Howdy, stranger," the sheriff said as Keith returned to his drink. "I'm George Donaldson. I keep the law 'round these parts."
"My name's Byrom," the stranger said. "Paul Byrom."
"I'm Sharon Black, owner of McGinty's Pub. That's Keith, our drinker-but-never-drunkard, and that's Phil on the piano, and that's Neil, a local cowboy. And that's Zara, my employee."
Paul Byrom cast a look over them all, winking to Zara as he took a seat at the bar. Zara's breath caught in her throat, and she barely caught her broom before it dropped to the floor.
"What'll you have, Mr. Byrom?" Sharon asked.
"Call me Paul. Hmmm. I've a hankerin' for a Velvet Kiss. Do you have those around here?"
"Sure thing. Just don't try those Harkin Hypnotizers—our special Guinness brew—or you may end up like Keith here."
Keith flicked his hat brim up, gave Paul a smirk that revealed a dimple, and looked back at the drink Sharon just placed in front of him. "A Guinness is a Guinness, and I do love me some Guinness."
Paul nodded once. "Y'all seem like mighty nice people."
Sheriff Donaldson and Sharon exchanged a glance.
The doors to the saloon banged open again, and this time a younger man came running into the saloon.
"Paul! Paul, we gotta get outta here! And quick!"
Paul turned in his seat. "Why Damian, what's the matter? All I asked you to do was the tie the horses. Have you caused more trouble?"
"No! I was tying the horses, just like you said, when this girl walked up to me and started making sheep eyes at me!"
"Sheep eyes?" Sheriff Donaldson asked. "That better not have been my daughter…"
A burbling sound that might have been a laugh came from Keith's direction as he drank his Guinness.
"Yeah, but there's more!" the young man named Damian continued. "I mean, suddenly there was a group of 'em, just staring at me and giggling like you wouldn't believe."
Keith slammed his half-empty glass on the bar, coughing and spluttering his Guinness all over.
"Aw, Keith," Sharon said. "I just cleaned that!"
He shrugged, smirked again, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"It's all right," Zara said as she came over to Damian. "They're just realizing how cute you are. Ain't too many good-looking young men around here," she added with a sly look at Paul.
Keith turned to Zara with a look of mock anger on his face. "Hey!"
Damian grinned, revealing an infectious smile that lit up his intense blue eyes. "Is that so?"
"Don't you be getting vain, now," Paul warned as he took a drink of his Velvet Kiss. "Ah, that hits the spot."
Zara gave another sly look at Paul, and then turned to Phil. "Strike up a dancing tune, will ya?"
Phil nodded, and immediately began a lively tune, and the local cowboy Neil joined in on his guitar.
"Aw, shoot," Keith said. "I forgot my guitar at home."
"I don't know about y'all," Paul stood up, "but I feel like dancing."
And with that, he shoved the broom out of Zara's hands and pulled her into a lively jig around the tables in McGinty's Pub.
The others began to laugh and clap in time to the tune, but Damian just stood there shaking his head. "He always does that," he muttered.
Paul slowed his dancing and finally stopped, looking intently into Zara's eyes. "Well, I've gotta be going. I'll be back, y'all hear?"
He walked to the door of the saloon, winked at Zara, and said, "Remember me."
Suddenly the doors burst open and a man dressed all in black swaggered in. Everyone stopped mid-motion. Even Phil and the local cowboy Neil hit wrong notes.
The man dressed all in black glared at Paul, and Paul glared back as they passed each other.
Once Paul was gone, the man in black said, "Someone get me a Dark Destroyer."
Then he spat into the spittoon at the doorway.
"Ryan," Sharon said with a forced smile, "what are you doing back in town so early?"
His spurs clinked on the floor as he walked to the bar. "I had a feeling I'd be needed back here today."
Zara's breath caught in her throat. Ryan looked at her darkly. Damian looked from Zara to Ryan and back. What was going on?
Then Ryan saw him. "And who're you?"
"I'm… I'm leaving. Later, pub!"
And Damian bolted out of the doors just as Paul's voice floated in, yelling, "DAMIAN, COME ON!!!"
Ryan stepped over to Zara, fingering her hair. She froze as he tilted her chin upwards. "I've been watching you," he said gruffly. "I saw you dancing with that stranger. Are you planning on leaving me?"
She tried to shake her head, failed, and whispered, "No. No."
"Huh," he snorted as he dropped his other hand to the gun at his hip. "'Cause if you are, you're both gonna regret it. And they say that I'm a bad boy."
No one replied as he pushed Zara's cheek roughly to the side.
The doors to the saloon banged open, and Paul and Damian came rushing back in as the sound of high-pitched screaming floated into the bar.
"Phew, that was close!" Damian gasped. "Those girls were getting pretty crazy."
The tension in the room snapped like a twig as Keith laughed into his drink again.
Paul cast them both dirty looks as he stepped between Zara and Ryan. "Did you just mishandle this fine woman?"
Ryan glared at him. "So what if I did? You ain't got rights to her."
"Ain't no one got rights to her!" Sharon sniffed from the behind the bar.
"I ain't the one trying to steal another man's girl, partner," Ryan spat.
"I ain't your girl, Ryan," Zara said, and immediately took shelter behind her swanky hero.
Paul spread his arms to better protect her.
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Are you challenging me?"
"That depends, partner."
Ryan smirked darkly. "I wouldn't be doing that if I were you."
"Now, boys," Sheriff Donaldson interrupted. "Ain't nobody going to be having bar fights while I'm around."
"Then you can git gone, Sheriff," Ryan retorted. "'Cause we're both a-fixing for a fight, ain't we?"
Sheriff Donaldson made a move to arrest Ryan.
"No, George," Sharon hissed. "New Moy needs this."
"Then at least take it outside the pub. Lord knows enough shenanigans go on inside."
Damian muttered, "But the inside saves me from those girls outside."
"Alrighty then," Ryan continued. "You ready to do this?"
Paul lifted his chin. "Name the day and the time and the location."
Ryan smirked again. "Today, high noon, Main Street."
Sheriff Donaldson looked at his watch. "It's almost high noon now, boys."
The rivals glared at each other.
"I'll meet you outside," Ryan said. He turned on his black-booted heel and left the saloon.
Damian looked at Paul, then at Zara, and then back at Paul. "Are you sure you wanna have a shootout with this guy? Over her?"
"Damian, one day you will see. That's a woman! Now let's go before he starts thinking I'm a chicken."
Paul sauntered through the double doors, one hand on his gun and the other being clung to by Zara. Damian followed, shaking his head. Then Phil and Sharon, and the local cowboy Neil with his guitar. Then Sheriff Donaldson, who seemed at a loss of what to do. And last Keith, holding his Guinness tightly and pulling the brim of his hat down.
Out in the bright sunlight on Main Street, Ryan stood at one end, in front of McGinty's Pub. Paul disentangled himself from Zara's hand and faced him on the opposite side.
The others watched from the porch as a crowd gathered all along Main Street.
"Alrighty," Paul shouted to Ryan, "when Damian says pull, we pull!"
Ryan just grinned darkly.
"How did I get dragged into this?" Damian asked no one in particular. "ONE…TWO…"
"Wait! Hold up!" Keith interrupted. "I gotta get me another Guinness!"
He ran inside and was back out with a full glass of Guinness in a matter of seconds.
"Okay," Damian said with a glare at Keith. "ONE…TWO…"
"Wait! Hold up!" Sheriff Donaldson interrupted. He lowered his hat brim so that he could not see the action. "This way they can't say I stood by watching and doing nothing."
"Okay," Damian continued with a glare at the sheriff. "ONE…TWO…"
"Wait! Hold up!" Zara interrupted.
"What now?"
She rushed from the porch to Paul, her swanky hero. "You could die. I gotta…" and she kissed him squarely on the lips.
Zara returned to her position on the porch. Paul, grinning like an idiot, nodded at Damian and then winked at Zara.
"OKAY," Damian shouted. "ONE…TWO…" He paused and looked around, then smiled his infectious smile. "PULL!!!"
Quick as lightning, the swanky cowboy Paul fired at Ryan from the hip. But Ryan, who had been waiting for another interruption, didn't draw his gun quite fast enough.
Paul's gun fired; the crowd gasped; Ryan jerked and fell back; his gun fired a wild shot; glass shattered; Zara and Keith screamed simultaneously.
Sheriff Donaldson lifted his hat and looked around. "What happened?"
"He shot my Guinness," Keith said in disbelief, staring woefully at the shattered glass in his hand and the beer that was spilled on his pants and the floor.
"Is Ryan… Is he dead?" someone in the crowd asked.
"Damian, go check," Paul called.
His heartthrob sidekick glared as he walked over to Ryan's immobile form.
"He had better be dead," Keith muttered. "He shot my Guinness."
Damian bent over Ryan. "He's been shot…"
The crowd let out a whoop.
"…In the shoulder. This always happens! Paul, you gotta stop aiming from your hip!"
Paul silenced Damian with a look. Then he turned to Zara and held out his hands. "Come, my love! Let's away before he wakes up!"
Zara ran into Paul's arms.
"Wait, Zara!" Ryan moaned from the ground. "I never meant… to hurt you. I never meant… to break your heart in two."
"Aw, shoot," Keith grumbled. "He's still alive. Jerk shot my Guinness."
"Yes, Keith," Sheriff Donaldson replied. "We know that he shot your Guinness."
"Damian, get my horse, will ya?" Paul called. "We need to get going!"
Damian got the horses, one blinding white and the other caramel brown.
Paul leaped onto the white horse, pulling Zara up after him. "Let's go, my love!"
And with that, he kicked his horse into a gallop and rode into the horizon.
Damian sighed, shaking his head. "I'll just wait till he comes back to get me tomorrow."
Sharon Black looked at him. "Does he do this an awful lot?"
"Save the day? Yeah. He has this thing about grand exits… And I usually ain't a part of them."
"Well," Sheriff Donaldson said as a gaggle of young girls rounded the corner of McGinty's Pub onto Main Street. "At least we'll get us some entertainment till then."
"Whoa," Damian said when he saw the girls. He ducked back into the saloon, followed by Phil and the local cowboy Neil.
"C'mon, Keith," Sharon said as she headed inside. "I'll get you another Guinness, on the house."
They went inside, leaving Sheriff Donaldson and Ryan alone in the street as the crowd dissipated.
Ryan struggled to his feet, clutching his bleeding left shoulder. "He stole my girl."
"It's alright, Ryan; you did have it coming to ya. Tell you what. You stop terrorizing New Moy, and I'll get Sharon to give you free Dark Destroyers for the rest of your life."
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "I enjoy terrorizing this town, Sheriff. And don't you forget it."
They watched as the swanky cowboy and his lady love disappeared on the distant horizon.
"Who knows, Ryan," Sheriff Donaldson said, "maybe one day you'll meet one of them refined musician ladies to woo."
Ryan snorted. "They ain't my type."
The sheriff grinned. "You'd be surprised."
THE END
IRISH COWBOYS
In the days when cowboys ruled the west, when shoot-outs were common, when bad guys wore all black and good guys were expert gunmen, when women were delicate flowers and yet tougher than nails, there was a western town in Kansas called New Moy.
One bright and clear day, Sharon Black, owner of the most popular saloon in New Moy, McGinty's Pub, decided to open her doors a few hours early.
A bad decision, as it were, because that prompted the local drinker-but-never-drunkard, a blonde man named Keith who seemed more suited to California than Kansas, to come in and immediately help himself to a Guinness.
Now, Sharon and her barmaid, Zara, were used to Keith's antics, and they paid him no heed, as long as he paid for the booze and didn't cause trouble. Phil, Sharon's piano-playing partner, sat at his instrument, tinkering away at a new piece he had begun writing the day before. A local cowboy, Neil, sat in the far corner of the saloon, hat covering his eyes, feet on the table, strumming his guitar.
All was typically quiet—the only noise coming from the piano, guitar, and the soft swoosh of Zara's broom—when the swinging doors opened and in walked a tall and tough man. The gold star on his vest glittered in the dim lighting of the saloon.
"Howdy, Sharon," the tall man said.
"Howdy, Sheriff Donaldson. What'll you have?"
"I think… I'll have an ale."
The sheriff looked at Keith, who sat in his barstool, hunched over his drink. Sharon shrugged as she retrieved Donaldson's drink from the bar.
"How long have you been here today, Keith?" Sheriff Donaldson asked.
Keith flicked the brim of his hat up, gave the sheriff a smirk, and finished his Guinness. "Not long enough. Sharon, can I have another?"
She was about to reply when the saloon doors swung open and banged against the walls. Everyone in the bar stopped and looked to the sound of the intrusion, with the exception of Phil and the local cowboy Neil, who were used to this kind of thing all the time. Zara stopped sweeping. Sharon paused with Sheriff Donaldson's ale in her hand. The sheriff froze in the middle of removing his hat. Even Keith looked up from the glass in front of him.
An unfamiliar man stood just inside the doors, his hat brim pulled low over his eyes. He was tall and swanky—the swankiest cowboy the townspeople had ever laid eyes on. As they watched, he took the hat off his head, revealing thick, brown hair and deep blue eyes.
"Howdy, y'all," he said in a smooth voice. "What kind of drink can a tired cowboy get around here?"
"Anything you'd like, stranger," Sharon said as she handed Donaldson his ale.
"Howdy, stranger," the sheriff said as Keith returned to his drink. "I'm George Donaldson. I keep the law 'round these parts."
"My name's Byrom," the stranger said. "Paul Byrom."
"I'm Sharon Black, owner of McGinty's Pub. That's Keith, our drinker-but-never-drunkard, and that's Phil on the piano, and that's Neil, a local cowboy. And that's Zara, my employee."
Paul Byrom cast a look over them all, winking to Zara as he took a seat at the bar. Zara's breath caught in her throat, and she barely caught her broom before it dropped to the floor.
"What'll you have, Mr. Byrom?" Sharon asked.
"Call me Paul. Hmmm. I've a hankerin' for a Velvet Kiss. Do you have those around here?"
"Sure thing. Just don't try those Harkin Hypnotizers—our special Guinness brew—or you may end up like Keith here."
Keith flicked his hat brim up, gave Paul a smirk that revealed a dimple, and looked back at the drink Sharon just placed in front of him. "A Guinness is a Guinness, and I do love me some Guinness."
Paul nodded once. "Y'all seem like mighty nice people."
Sheriff Donaldson and Sharon exchanged a glance.
The doors to the saloon banged open again, and this time a younger man came running into the saloon.
"Paul! Paul, we gotta get outta here! And quick!"
Paul turned in his seat. "Why Damian, what's the matter? All I asked you to do was the tie the horses. Have you caused more trouble?"
"No! I was tying the horses, just like you said, when this girl walked up to me and started making sheep eyes at me!"
"Sheep eyes?" Sheriff Donaldson asked. "That better not have been my daughter…"
A burbling sound that might have been a laugh came from Keith's direction as he drank his Guinness.
"Yeah, but there's more!" the young man named Damian continued. "I mean, suddenly there was a group of 'em, just staring at me and giggling like you wouldn't believe."
Keith slammed his half-empty glass on the bar, coughing and spluttering his Guinness all over.
"Aw, Keith," Sharon said. "I just cleaned that!"
He shrugged, smirked again, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"It's all right," Zara said as she came over to Damian. "They're just realizing how cute you are. Ain't too many good-looking young men around here," she added with a sly look at Paul.
Keith turned to Zara with a look of mock anger on his face. "Hey!"
Damian grinned, revealing an infectious smile that lit up his intense blue eyes. "Is that so?"
"Don't you be getting vain, now," Paul warned as he took a drink of his Velvet Kiss. "Ah, that hits the spot."
Zara gave another sly look at Paul, and then turned to Phil. "Strike up a dancing tune, will ya?"
Phil nodded, and immediately began a lively tune, and the local cowboy Neil joined in on his guitar.
"Aw, shoot," Keith said. "I forgot my guitar at home."
"I don't know about y'all," Paul stood up, "but I feel like dancing."
And with that, he shoved the broom out of Zara's hands and pulled her into a lively jig around the tables in McGinty's Pub.
The others began to laugh and clap in time to the tune, but Damian just stood there shaking his head. "He always does that," he muttered.
Paul slowed his dancing and finally stopped, looking intently into Zara's eyes. "Well, I've gotta be going. I'll be back, y'all hear?"
He walked to the door of the saloon, winked at Zara, and said, "Remember me."
Suddenly the doors burst open and a man dressed all in black swaggered in. Everyone stopped mid-motion. Even Phil and the local cowboy Neil hit wrong notes.
The man dressed all in black glared at Paul, and Paul glared back as they passed each other.
Once Paul was gone, the man in black said, "Someone get me a Dark Destroyer."
Then he spat into the spittoon at the doorway.
"Ryan," Sharon said with a forced smile, "what are you doing back in town so early?"
His spurs clinked on the floor as he walked to the bar. "I had a feeling I'd be needed back here today."
Zara's breath caught in her throat. Ryan looked at her darkly. Damian looked from Zara to Ryan and back. What was going on?
Then Ryan saw him. "And who're you?"
"I'm… I'm leaving. Later, pub!"
And Damian bolted out of the doors just as Paul's voice floated in, yelling, "DAMIAN, COME ON!!!"
Ryan stepped over to Zara, fingering her hair. She froze as he tilted her chin upwards. "I've been watching you," he said gruffly. "I saw you dancing with that stranger. Are you planning on leaving me?"
She tried to shake her head, failed, and whispered, "No. No."
"Huh," he snorted as he dropped his other hand to the gun at his hip. "'Cause if you are, you're both gonna regret it. And they say that I'm a bad boy."
No one replied as he pushed Zara's cheek roughly to the side.
The doors to the saloon banged open, and Paul and Damian came rushing back in as the sound of high-pitched screaming floated into the bar.
"Phew, that was close!" Damian gasped. "Those girls were getting pretty crazy."
The tension in the room snapped like a twig as Keith laughed into his drink again.
Paul cast them both dirty looks as he stepped between Zara and Ryan. "Did you just mishandle this fine woman?"
Ryan glared at him. "So what if I did? You ain't got rights to her."
"Ain't no one got rights to her!" Sharon sniffed from the behind the bar.
"I ain't the one trying to steal another man's girl, partner," Ryan spat.
"I ain't your girl, Ryan," Zara said, and immediately took shelter behind her swanky hero.
Paul spread his arms to better protect her.
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Are you challenging me?"
"That depends, partner."
Ryan smirked darkly. "I wouldn't be doing that if I were you."
"Now, boys," Sheriff Donaldson interrupted. "Ain't nobody going to be having bar fights while I'm around."
"Then you can git gone, Sheriff," Ryan retorted. "'Cause we're both a-fixing for a fight, ain't we?"
Sheriff Donaldson made a move to arrest Ryan.
"No, George," Sharon hissed. "New Moy needs this."
"Then at least take it outside the pub. Lord knows enough shenanigans go on inside."
Damian muttered, "But the inside saves me from those girls outside."
"Alrighty then," Ryan continued. "You ready to do this?"
Paul lifted his chin. "Name the day and the time and the location."
Ryan smirked again. "Today, high noon, Main Street."
Sheriff Donaldson looked at his watch. "It's almost high noon now, boys."
The rivals glared at each other.
"I'll meet you outside," Ryan said. He turned on his black-booted heel and left the saloon.
Damian looked at Paul, then at Zara, and then back at Paul. "Are you sure you wanna have a shootout with this guy? Over her?"
"Damian, one day you will see. That's a woman! Now let's go before he starts thinking I'm a chicken."
Paul sauntered through the double doors, one hand on his gun and the other being clung to by Zara. Damian followed, shaking his head. Then Phil and Sharon, and the local cowboy Neil with his guitar. Then Sheriff Donaldson, who seemed at a loss of what to do. And last Keith, holding his Guinness tightly and pulling the brim of his hat down.
Out in the bright sunlight on Main Street, Ryan stood at one end, in front of McGinty's Pub. Paul disentangled himself from Zara's hand and faced him on the opposite side.
The others watched from the porch as a crowd gathered all along Main Street.
"Alrighty," Paul shouted to Ryan, "when Damian says pull, we pull!"
Ryan just grinned darkly.
"How did I get dragged into this?" Damian asked no one in particular. "ONE…TWO…"
"Wait! Hold up!" Keith interrupted. "I gotta get me another Guinness!"
He ran inside and was back out with a full glass of Guinness in a matter of seconds.
"Okay," Damian said with a glare at Keith. "ONE…TWO…"
"Wait! Hold up!" Sheriff Donaldson interrupted. He lowered his hat brim so that he could not see the action. "This way they can't say I stood by watching and doing nothing."
"Okay," Damian continued with a glare at the sheriff. "ONE…TWO…"
"Wait! Hold up!" Zara interrupted.
"What now?"
She rushed from the porch to Paul, her swanky hero. "You could die. I gotta…" and she kissed him squarely on the lips.
Zara returned to her position on the porch. Paul, grinning like an idiot, nodded at Damian and then winked at Zara.
"OKAY," Damian shouted. "ONE…TWO…" He paused and looked around, then smiled his infectious smile. "PULL!!!"
Quick as lightning, the swanky cowboy Paul fired at Ryan from the hip. But Ryan, who had been waiting for another interruption, didn't draw his gun quite fast enough.
Paul's gun fired; the crowd gasped; Ryan jerked and fell back; his gun fired a wild shot; glass shattered; Zara and Keith screamed simultaneously.
Sheriff Donaldson lifted his hat and looked around. "What happened?"
"He shot my Guinness," Keith said in disbelief, staring woefully at the shattered glass in his hand and the beer that was spilled on his pants and the floor.
"Is Ryan… Is he dead?" someone in the crowd asked.
"Damian, go check," Paul called.
His heartthrob sidekick glared as he walked over to Ryan's immobile form.
"He had better be dead," Keith muttered. "He shot my Guinness."
Damian bent over Ryan. "He's been shot…"
The crowd let out a whoop.
"…In the shoulder. This always happens! Paul, you gotta stop aiming from your hip!"
Paul silenced Damian with a look. Then he turned to Zara and held out his hands. "Come, my love! Let's away before he wakes up!"
Zara ran into Paul's arms.
"Wait, Zara!" Ryan moaned from the ground. "I never meant… to hurt you. I never meant… to break your heart in two."
"Aw, shoot," Keith grumbled. "He's still alive. Jerk shot my Guinness."
"Yes, Keith," Sheriff Donaldson replied. "We know that he shot your Guinness."
"Damian, get my horse, will ya?" Paul called. "We need to get going!"
Damian got the horses, one blinding white and the other caramel brown.
Paul leaped onto the white horse, pulling Zara up after him. "Let's go, my love!"
And with that, he kicked his horse into a gallop and rode into the horizon.
Damian sighed, shaking his head. "I'll just wait till he comes back to get me tomorrow."
Sharon Black looked at him. "Does he do this an awful lot?"
"Save the day? Yeah. He has this thing about grand exits… And I usually ain't a part of them."
"Well," Sheriff Donaldson said as a gaggle of young girls rounded the corner of McGinty's Pub onto Main Street. "At least we'll get us some entertainment till then."
"Whoa," Damian said when he saw the girls. He ducked back into the saloon, followed by Phil and the local cowboy Neil.
"C'mon, Keith," Sharon said as she headed inside. "I'll get you another Guinness, on the house."
They went inside, leaving Sheriff Donaldson and Ryan alone in the street as the crowd dissipated.
Ryan struggled to his feet, clutching his bleeding left shoulder. "He stole my girl."
"It's alright, Ryan; you did have it coming to ya. Tell you what. You stop terrorizing New Moy, and I'll get Sharon to give you free Dark Destroyers for the rest of your life."
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "I enjoy terrorizing this town, Sheriff. And don't you forget it."
They watched as the swanky cowboy and his lady love disappeared on the distant horizon.
"Who knows, Ryan," Sheriff Donaldson said, "maybe one day you'll meet one of them refined musician ladies to woo."
Ryan snorted. "They ain't my type."
The sheriff grinned. "You'd be surprised."
THE END