No Shotguns Required

Jarrod checked the time on his watch against the station clock. Surprisingly, it was only 9:30. The train had gotten in early and instead of heading to the livery to borrow a horse for the ride home to the ranch, the lawyer decided to head to the saloon. It was Saturday night and there was a good chance one or both his brothers would be in town with some of the crew for a drink or a few hands of poker. And if not, a whiskey before the ride home would still be just the thing. He enjoyed the culture and refinement of San Francisco, the hustle and bustle and elegant establishments, but the wide open spaces of his beloved valley and the more down to earth surroundings of Harry’s saloon were where he would always call home. 

Pushing back his hat as he went through the batwing doors, Jarrod surveyed the room. No sign of his brothers, but he recognized old Jeff and Matt from the ranch, cards and a large poker pot in the middle of the table. He looked more closely to see if he recognized the other two players and got a slight shock as the player to Jeff’s right tossed a couple more bills on the table.  “See your five and raise ten,” an unmistakably feminine voice stated.

Jarrod walked over to the bar and leaned on one elbow, not taking his eyes off the unusual sight. Not a saloon girl like Ruthie, who was standing with her hand on Matt’s shoulder, but a woman in well-worn cowboy garb that wouldn’t have been out of place on a working cowhand. Her long brown hair was partially pulled a back in a tail, topped with a no-nonsense Stetson reminiscent of his brother Nick’s. She leaned back with a nonchalant look that Jarrod’s brother Heath would’ve been proud of.

“What’ll you have, Jarrod?”

Jarrod looked up at the bartender. “Whiskey, Harry.” He glanced back at the poker game as the stout man filled a glass with amber liquid. “Who’s that playing cards with Matt and old Jeff?”

Harry gave him a curious look. “You should know the lady, Jarrod. She works on your spread. The other man’s a drummer. Peddling some sort of ladies’ accessories.”

“Well, you don’t say.” Jarrod was hard pressed to conceal his surprise, not at the salesman, but at the lady ranch hand. Must’ve been Heath who hired her; he chuckled at the thought of Nick’s reaction when presented with a female cowhand. “I never know what I’ll find when I go away for a few weeks.”

Harry laughed before going off to serve another customer. Jarrod readjusted his hat, took a sip of his whiskey and continued watching the cowgirl with an appreciative eye. Despite the fact that she didn’t dress the same way as most of the beautiful ladies he’d met, their new cowhand was a stunning woman. He’d never make advances to an employee, but looking didn’t hurt anyone. And she was very good to look at.

Jeff tossed down his cards. “Too rich fer me,” he cackled, grinning at the cowgirl before addressing the rest of the table. “Reckon y’all’d be smart t’fold too.”

Matt shook his head before setting his cards face down. “I should’ve know better to play you after last week,” he said ruefully to the lady across the table.

The three Barkley hands looked at the salesman. The man stared hard at his cards, gave the lady a searching look and sighed. “I’m out.”

The blonde shuffled her cards back into the deck and smiled widely as she raked up the bills and coins from the middle of the table. “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen,” she said with a wink, tidying up the stack of bills and sliding the coins into a pouch. Jarrod couldn’t help but admire her saucy grin.

“You gonna tell us what you had?” the unknown man asked.

The cowgirl stood up, tucking the rest of her winnings into her vest. “It’ll cost you ten to find out,” she said over her shoulder as she moved towards the bar, “but the next round’s on me.” She took out a bill and passed it to Harry, who pulled out the bottle of whiskey and started filling glasses as Ruthie came over with a tray.

Jarrod was trying very hard not to stare, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from taking in her full form. Trim, curves in all the right places and the tan canvas pants did nothing to hide the incredible musculature of her long legs. Then he blushed slightly as she noticed his regard, covering the slight embarrassment of being caught with a small salute of his glass. She shook her head with what Jarrod took to be a long-suffering smile on her lips, but she returned his salute with a glint in her eyes.

It took a bit of effort, but Jarrod dragged his attention away from the beautiful lady. He could only imagine the unwanted attention a good-looking woman dressed like she was might get and didn’t want to be placed in the same category with that sort of man, whether she worked for the family or not. Maybe looking could hurt, after all, he suddenly realized.

But Jarrod glanced up a moment later when the female voice, but with a rather Nick-like tone, said, “If you don’t move that hand, you’re going to regret it.”

A man was standing between Jarrod and the lady, but he could tell the man had his arm around her waist. No, his hand was definitely lower than her waist. Jarrod slowly set down his glass and prepared to defend the lady’s honour.

“Oh, c’mon, baby,” the man drawled, “you can’t tell me you weren’t lookin’ for somethin’ like this.” He pulled her close to him but before Jarrod could make a move, her right hook sent the masher straight back into the lawyer.

Recovering quickly, Jarrod shoved the man, putting him in the perfect position to be caught with a solid body blow from the cowgirl. He then noticed a second man about to grab her arm from behind.

“Behind you!” he called and she whirled in time to throw her assailant off balance. Jarrod’s attention was torn away from the lady’s altercation by the first man rushing towards him and he staggered as the masher grabbed him and pushed him backwards into the bar.

Jarrod didn’t often brawl, but being a lawyer who took on unpopular cases and being Nick Barkley’s older brother had given him a fair bit of experience. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw more rowdy patrons jump in the fray as he concentrated on the man in front of him. An exchange of blows and Jarrod soon had the man on the floor, but someone else grabbed him and threw him into a table. Jarrod felt the table give way, quickly regained his balance and made short work of the other man.

“Alright, break it up!” came the command from the door. Straightening up from what was probably a few bruised ribs, Jarrod wiped the trickle of blood from his mouth, walked over and held out a hand to the lady. She took the offered hand with a smile and got to her feet, gingerly touching her face and the start of an impressive black eye. The masher was still on the floor, leaning up against the bar and nursing a bloody nose. From the angle of that nose, Jarrod would’ve be surprised if it wasn’t broken.

Jarrod turned to the sheriff. “Fred,” he acknowledged.

“Jarrod.” The sheriff perused the room. “Mind telling me what happened?”

“Well…”

“You’re Jarrod Barkley?”

Jarrod glanced back, surprised by the harsh tone and saw the smiling blue eyes had turned hard. She looked away before Jarrod could say anything.

“Sheriff.” The cowgirl gestured towards the man who had grabbed her. ”This man was taking unwanted liberties. I defended myself.” She studiously ignored Jarrod standing beside her.

Old Jeff came over from where he’d been crouched behind a table. “Saw the whole thing, sheriff. Becky was jus’ havin’ a drink and that varmint grabbed her where a gen’lmun never grabs a lady.” He winked at the cowgirl.

The lawyer spoke up, putting aside the lady’s sudden change in demeanour for the time being. “I can corroborate Jeff and the lady’s statements, Fred. I can’t speak for the others involved, but that man,” he indicated the masher, “and that one,” the second man who’d tried to grab her arm, “definitely assaulted the lady.”

Fred nodded and indicated to the deputy standing behind him. “Take those two to the cells. Jarrod, I trust I can count on you and the others to come in and make a statement? Tomorrow would be fine.”

Jarrod nodded as he picked up his hat that had somehow landed neatly on the bar and adjusted it on his head. “Of course, Fred.”

The sheriff turned to follow his deputy and the two miscreants out of the saloon, but looked back. “No more trouble,” he stated loudly to the whole bar, “or I’m sure I can find a few more empty cells.”

As the sheriff left, Jarrod looked back at the bar to find some of the bottles and glasses smashed or at least knocked over. “Harry, a round for the house on me and there should be enough left over to pay for damages.” He took his wallet out of his vest pocket and handed the barkeep a some bills before moving over to the cowgirl Jeff had called Becky. “Ma’am,” he said with a smile and a tip of his hat, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” He held out his hand.

But the look she gave him… Her hostility unsettled him, as well as the fact she turned to the glass of whiskey Harry set in front of her without acknowledging him.

“Oh, that’s right, Jarrod.” Matt came over, trailed by Jeff. He picked up two glasses and handed one to the old cowpoke. “Becky here hired on while you were in San Fran.”

The cowgirl, Becky, Jarrod corrected in his mind, tilted her head in a slight acknowledgement before she downed her whiskey. But the expression on her face didn’t change.

Jarrod followed suit and drained his glass in a single swallow. “Well, I for one am ready to call it a night.” The malice in Becky’s glance unsettled him. It certainly wasn’t the same as the look he’d gotten when she caught him admiring her or when she’d taken his offered hand to help herself up after the fight.

Setting his glass on the bar, Jarrod readjusted his hat and turned to the Barkley ranch hands. “I’m off to the livery. See you all back at the ranch.” Jarrod headed for the door. “Don’t get in too much trouble,” he tossed back and even though the lady was still scowling, he couldn’t help himself. He threw her a rakish wink before heading into the night, disturbed. He’d have to ask his brothers what they knew about their new hire and if they knew why she’d taken an instant dislike to him when she found out his name was Jarrod Barkley.

**

Becky left town with Matt and old Jeff about an hour later. Her ribs ached and from the pain in her face, she was sure she was developing quite the black eye. But worse were her feelings when she heard the name of the handsome man who’d looked her over and offered her his hand. She was used to the looks of men; most of them seemed to think that because of her lifestyle and the way she dressed, she’d be open to any sort of proposition.

Somehow, the appreciative look she’d intercepted from the well dressed, dark haired man hadn’t felt quite the same. It was more of a recognition of something of value than of a desire for possession. But then she heard his name and a coldness settled into her belly that was at odds with her initial impression.

It didn’t matter what she originally thought; she swore she would never have a sympathetic feeling towards Jarrod Barkley.