Unshaken

The Parlour House Proposition

It was now Friday. Liam did his daily chores in a hurry around camp. He couldn't wait to head to the parlour house. He wasn't gonna tell anyone around camp about the scheme incase he'd failed or something went wrong. He decided to wait until later in the day though, because he didn't want to linger around town at risk of anyone seeing him.

He saw Charles walk back into camp with a Lancaster Repeater from guard duty. He approached Charles. "Think they'll mind if I do guard duty sometime?" Liam asked. "Absolutely not. You wanna start now?" Charles asked. Liam had around four hours to kill before he had to go. "Sure. I'll be back in a while." Liam said taking the gun. He walked to the usual spot where everyone stood.

He stood and watched for a few hours when he heard horse hooves riding towards him from camp. It was Arthur, Bill and Dutch. "Heading to go meet with the Sheriff. Stay alert there, Liam." Dutch told him. "Sure thing." Liam said, tipping his hat to the three as they rode out of Clemens Point.

"That fool of a Sheriff." Liam said to himself with a laugh. He hated Sheriff Gray. His nonsense plagued Rhodes, as did the Braithwaites. He then checked his watch. "Shit! I gotta go!" He said to himself. He hardly noticed the sky growing dark with the setting sun. He ran into camp handing the rifle to Lenny. He quickly changed into his old clothes that made him seem forgettable. He climbed on his horse when Micah approached. "Why in such a hurry?" His nosiness annoyed Liam. "Just heading into town." He replied. "Hmm. Okay. You better not be up to something, boy." Micah hissed. "You don't worry about me, Mr. Bell." Liam said riding off. "You better watch how you talk to us men!" He heard Micah yell as he rode outside of camp.

He rolled his eyes as he came into Scarlett Meadows. He rode fast behind Rhodes to the parlour house. It was now dark. He entered the saloon through the back. He walked to the counter. Peters came up to him. "You're late." He muttered. "I know, I'm sorry." Liam admitted. "What would you like sir?" He asked loudly over the rowdiness of the university boys. "Whiskey'll be fine." He ordered. Peters poured him a shot of whiskey and he took the shot with a straight face, hiding the burning in his throat. "The bottles are already set up at the back of the building outside." Peters whispered. "Alright." Liam said as he walked up to the group.

"Hey, buddy. You look like you can use a gun. Wanna have us a little shooting contest?" He sarcastically asked one of the boys. They all turned with smug faces. "What makes you think you could outshoot me?" The young man asked. "Oh, I don't think mister, I know." Liam boasted. They laughed obnoxiously. "I'm not wasting my time. Get lost, redneck." The young man yelled at Liam. Liam bit his tongue to not insult him back. "Okay then, guess you're scared." The boy threw his drink down. "I'm not scared of nothing! I shot rifles at the country club!" He yelled in his posh Saint Denis accent. "Meet me out back. I'll see if I can't find us something." Liam said walking out the back.

The buzzed man soon followed, as did Peters. The group was now out back, only light being provided was from a nearby street lamp. "How would you like to shoot these bottles?" Peters asked the two. "I'd be fine with it, for a certain amount, of course." Liam said. The guy looked over at him. "How much are you asking?" He said, eyes narrowed. "Fifty dollars." Liam said. The group bursted out in laughter. "Have you even seen that much money in person?" He asked, ego through the roof. Even though Liam was about to scam him, the comment still stung from his younger days. "Can't say I have, but I'm feeling lucky." Liam replied back. "Wait, how do I know you will even pay the money?" He asked. Liam turned to Peters. "If this here bartender would be so kind as to cover me in the event of my loss, I would be eternally grateful." He said putting his hand on Peters's shoulder. Peters vaguely looked around. "Ahh, I guess. I'll cover the kid if he don't win." Peters said.

"Alright then, take your spots." The bartender told them. The two men stood in place in front of the bottles carefully placed on crates. "Whoever shoots more when time is up wins the cash." Peters instructed. "Okay then, ready, set, fire!" He yelled. The two men fired their guns. Liam barely took out three bottles while the university boy only took two. Liam gave him a smug look. "Wait! No! I want a rematch! I'll bet a hundred dollars!" The boy said holding the cash out desperately. "Well we ain't got that many more bottles." The bartender told him, disappointed. The man looked around frantically. "Okay! I know what we can do. We set these last few bottles on my friends' heads. Whoever can shoot them off without hitting them, wins the damn money!" He said, bursting with desperation. His companions weren't so sure about his proposition. "You're on." Liam said as the men lined up.