The Deputy: Monday

S’funny how things work out; weren’t so long ago that I was behind bars waiting to get neck my stretched for a murder I didn’t commit. Emmett Berry, deputy at the time, hated my guts. He was convinced I’d killed Sheriff Jessup but when the truth unraveled he saw things differently and he helped clear my name. He even asked me to be his deputy when he became sheriff. Yup, me, with my record. Though I respectfully declined I appreciated the backing of an offer left open. Course I never thought I’d see the day, but then I never thought I’d get my brains mushed up by a woman, and when Housty shot up the saloon and spiked my job with Cordelia, well…

‘Being a lawman isn’t easy,’ said Emmett, when he swore me in. ‘The last man I hired didn’t see a month out. Being good with a gun isn’t the half of it. It takes a special kind of man to be a deputy; a man of honor, truth and integrity. But for now I’ll make do with you.’ 

Emmett was funning with that last part. Leastways, I think he was. 

‘How’s it feel?’ he asked, when we walked the town today.

‘Feels good.’

‘You were dead set against being a deputy. What changed your mind?’

‘A woman.’

‘That little lady of yours talked you into it, huh?’ 

‘Nope, she knows nothing about it. She’s away visiting her folks.’

‘You took the job to impress her?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Well she’ll be real proud of you when she gets back. C’mon, I’ll buy you something to eat and set you straight on a few things.’ 

My first day as a deputy went pretty well, I reckon. A little short on excitement maybe, but Emmett says it’s like that sometimes. Our partnership was sealed at The Lonesome Duck and overseen by owner Asa Quillan, whose face lit up the minute we walked in. After welcoming us with a smile he hooked me for forty dollars in reparation of the damage Housty did, and gave us a beer on the house. Win some; lose some I thought, as Emmett and I raised a glass to a fresh start.