A Town Called Sunrise

So Much For Peaceful

Casey squatted on his haunches, unmoving and just staring down at his rough hands. A small gust of wind stirred the dust around the rocky incline where he had been working, and he turned his head, coughing. Two years he had scavenged around the Hatter Mountains, convinced his intuition was right, that the vein he had uncovered was just an offshoot of a mother lode . . . and now it proved true.

He lifted the lump of rock and brought it close to his eyes, letting them trace the glittering chunks crowding its surface. A chuckle started low in his throat, growing to loud uncontrolled laughter, echoing about the hollow he had discovered on the side of the mountain. He gathered his tools, stuffed a few samples in his sack, and made the long climb back to where he had his camp.

The sight of the three men sitting in front of his small tent brought him to a halt, and he slowly let the sack down among some scrub before moving closer.

"Can I help you fellas?" he asked, picking his way cautiously down the incline to stand beside the fire pit.

"As a matter of fact. Mr. Casey, you can. We'd like you to sign over this little claim you have up here. There's a man who wants this property, you see."

"I do see." Casey bent down to pick up his coffee mug by the fire. "Does this man want to make an offer?"

There was a short laugh. "Sure. He offers you a chance to sign and walk away unharmed."

Casey straightened up, his Mare's Leg shotgun that had rested out of sight, levered and ready to fire. "Might be best you fellas just go back and tell Landsman I ain't interested. I can be just as stubborn as him."

"You think you can take three of us, old man?" The skinny one said brazenly.

"No, but there won't be a whole lot left of the one I do. You want to be that one, sonny?"

There were a few moments of hesitation, then Arley ordered the others away. "No point bein' troublesome, boys. Mr. Casey'll soon see the error of his ways. We'll see you again, old timer."

"Maybe."

Casey watched them ride out, following unseen for a distance, making sure they didn't double back. Time to finally go into town and get everything registered, he reckoned.

******

The jail door flew open, banging against the floor stop and bouncing back. Breathless, and determined. young eight-year-old Donny dashed in with the paper for the sheriff.

"Hey! Hold on there, young fella. You tryna wreck my office?"

"Miss Daisy says you need to give me the money for the week. She says you can't have today's paper if you don't pay."

Colt looked at the serious face of the paperboy and hid a grin. Daisy Post, the newspaper editor and owner of the Sunrise and he, had a tug-of-war relationship that included making things up to get the other's goat. Telling Donny to collect for the paper was her latest gambit.

"Did Miss Daisy say what to do if I couldn't pay? 'Cause I'd surely pay if I could."

"Uhm . . . I'll have to go and ask."

"Okay, you leave the paper and go check."

Donny hurried out the door and down the street.

Colt opened the paper and glanced at a few titles, then went back to the front page and the announcement of the town jamboree. Three days away and Sunrise would be having its fifteenth annual jamboree celebration for the inauguration of the town.

The main street would be lined with food, entertainment, games of chance, dancing and many other activities. Colt's job was to make sure it didn't get out of hand without being too harsh. Past years had only seen one or two incidents; usually with too much to drink, or a little too frisky with a few of the women folk.

Overnight in the jail had solved those for the most part, and he didn't expect it to be any different this year. Already the sound of construction was heard. Booths for the games and food, and a large platform for the dances were under the direction of Fred Diggs, town undertaker. The Sunrise Jamboree drew visitors from all around the county.

Colt folded the paper and left his office, heading down to the newspaper. He saw Donny hurrying toward him and stopped to listen to the boy's instructions.

"I'm headin' there now, son. You want to come along and see I do the right thing?"

The boy hitched his trousers and nodded solemnly, taking out a wooden gun and arresting Colt.

"I was coming voluntarily, Donny."

"Miss Daisy told me to make sure I got the money."

He stopped and raised his hands. "Okay, I'll give you the money, and the paper. You still takin' me in?"

Donny counted the money slowly, then took the paper and hesitated, before pushing his gun into Colt's leg.

"Miss Daisy might want to say something."

"Shucks, I guess I'm a goner then."

"She'll be fair." The small boy said seriously, as they walked on.

Colt hid his grin and kept his hands high, to the amusement of some passing townsfolk.

Daisy Post stepped away from the cutter and wiped her hands on her apron as the two visitors entered.

"I got the money and I brung him just like you said, Miss Daisy." He plunked the coins down on the counter.

"You brought him."

"Yep, I did."

"No, I mean you brought him - not brung him."

His little gun wavered as his face screwed up in confusion.

"Don't worry about it, Donny, point is you did the job."

Colt dropped his hands and smiled at Daisy while she counted out a few coins for the boy and sent him on his way. He lounged against the counter by the door, admiring her chestnut coloured hair, and the way the loose strands drifted about her face. He watched admiringly as she jogged the cut papers and stacked them on a finished pile.

"That for the next edition?"

"Soon as the Jamboree is over and I have the stories written."

"Don't know how you manage it all, Daisy."

"Be easier if folks paid what they owed, on time."

"You didn't have to send a gunslinger after me."

"I probably wouldn't have got paid at all if I hadn't. Can't expect me to keep help like Donny if my customers don't pay me."

"Gee, Post, I thought I was more than just a customer."

"You are. You're also a royal pain."

"That's better. Anybody can be just a customer." He reached for her, pulling her close, noses almost touching, and with a free hand, he flipped over the closed sign and pulled down the door blind.