Joe was busy wiping over the tables, shining the bar. He missed Scotia big time, but he knew she’d be back. He looked out of the saloon windows and saw the evening sun warming the buildings. He mused for a moment on the calmness of early summer. You’d think, he thought, that the town would be buzzing as things grew, the nights were long, and yet this month was always lazy. As if folks needed to gear up to the new season. Hmmmm, perhaps I’ll pour myself a beer and sit outside on the boardwalk, he decided as he gave the pot plant a quick once over.
BAM! The saloon doors flew open and the pot plant jumped at its roots.
“Yay! Joe, get 'em lined up pardner!” Bilbo burst into the saloon with Tumbleweed blowing in after her. “Time for some serious celebrating.”
Joe laughed, tucked his dust cloth into his pocket and headed round to the bar. “What’s the celebration?”
“Scotia, Yorkie, and Nancy just blew the Boss’s latrine apart then rode out for Normality. And, on top of that, we’ve got new riders just arrived. The others are getting them settled, then they’ll be headed this way.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Joe, and slammed a couple of beers in their direction. “In fact,” he said, “Pick 'em up and lets go sit in the sun for a bit.” and he cracked open a bottle for himself.
“Joe!” exclaimed Tumbleweed in mock shock, “the bartend never drinks on duty.”
“Ha! It’s a lovely night, and I’ve just had two gorgeous ladies walk into my bar. We’re going to sit out, put our boots up, and enjoy. Got a problem with that?”
Tumbleweed and Bilbo clinked their beer bottles with Joe’s. “Nope, lead on sirrah,” said Bilbo grabbing a chair back and dragging it to the door. Tumbleweed took Joe’s bottle off him and Joe hefted another couple of chairs out the door.
“Hey there Mack,” shouted over Joe as Mack Stanley wandered on past.
“Hey there yourself Joe. Up for a game of cards later?”
“Sure am,” said Joe, “Bilbo, is Blackjack coming up?”
“Should be. Save her a chair at the table. She’ll need the practice. I reckon Casey might just have worked out her winning tricks, and she’ll be gunning for Blackjack when she gets back in.”
“That I’ve gotta see,” chuckled Tumbleweed as she set her chair back against the saloon wall.
The three of them hefted their boots up on the hitching rail, swung back on the chair legs, and smacked their lips as cool beer slid over their throats.
Well done with the bare head thing…head held high.
