A Wild West Tale

Chapter 1

1873

A man in his mid twenties pushed oak door open, making it swing gently behind him. The doors led into an old saloon located on the main street of a small farming town in Iowa, known as Plainsville. His silver spurs clinking lightly against the dark floors. Some patrons in the bar turned to look at him for a moment before turning back to their whiskey or beer. He made his way up to the counter before taking off his brown leather Stetson hat and placing it down. The man had black hair, akin to a black mustache. He leaned his elbows on the bar and looked at the keeper.
"Whiskey."
He had a heavy Irish accent and, as he spoke, a few people started throwing him dirty looks.
The barkeep looked at him and squinted
"We don't serve Irish here, friend. Best mosey on back where you came from."
The barkeep looked at him with disgust and gestured to the door.
The Irishman stood straight and gave out a small chuckle. He brandished a colt action revolver and set it down on the bar.
"Now I asked you for a whiskey." He stared at the man.
After deliberating for a minute, the barkeep shrugged his shoulders and poured the man a shot.
"25 cents." He said bluntly.
The Irishman slid him 2 quarters.
"Have one for yourself."
He said before downing his whiskey.
The barkeep's attitude changed as he raised the coin.
"Thank you."
Although the man knew he didn't mean it.

A few minutes later, a man looking similar to the first Irishman entered the bar and sidled up to the counter.
"You alright, Billy? They ain't kicked you out yet."
The man was the Irishman's, William Fogarty but also called Bill or Billy, brother Joseph.
Billy gave out a small chuckle and nodded.
"Just fine. Here, have a whiskey."
He slid the barkeep two more quarters.
"So what'd you come down here to tell me, Joe? Everything alright at home?"
His voice produced a slight tang of worry.
"Everything's fine. Came here to talk to you about that stage we were looking at."
Billy raised his eyebrows as he turned to face his younger brother.
"What'd you sniff out, Joe?"
Joe looked around the bar for a second before turning back to Billy and speaking in a hushed tone.
"When I was riding into town, I heard some talk. Heard someone saying that some other people were going after it."
Billy frowned slightly and looked at the empty glass in his hand.
"You heard talk? How reliable is this talk? This could be good for us. You know Pa ain't himself much no more. It's our job to keep people fed, Joe. I'm not about to turn down money because of some talk."
Billy's brother gave a hefty sigh before speaking.
"They said it was them Christian Brothers. You know that young Sean had a run in with them some weeks ago. He barely left with his life!"
Joe replied in an accent as heavy as his brother's.
As Joe became louder, Billy hushed him.
"Keep it together. Just... keep looking, alright? We need this right now."
Joe nodded slowly.
"Alright. You think we can get Paddy to come this time?"
Paddy was their oldest of their siblings. He had gone down the legal path, working with his father as a carpenter. He had always rejected going for a ride with his three brothers, who always seemed eager and ready.
"No, I don't. Leave him be. If he wants to come, he will."
Billy replied as he drank another whiskey.
"Let's get out of this place."
He said before returning his hat to his head and placing his revolver back in its holster. As the pair made their way to the doors, a whistle came from the back of the bar. The two turned around almost simultaneously to see a few men stood, just staring at them. One of them spoke up.
"You two Irish?"
He said, whilst staring daggers at the brothers.
"Who's asking?" Joe replied.
The man who spoke walked closer to the two and punched Billy right in the jaw.
Billy staggered back, clutching his face. He spat out blood on the floor as a fire blazed in his eyes as Billy yelled and punched the man back, right in the stomach.
The other two went after Joe.
The fight lasted for a couple minutes, many punches being thrown as well as many slaps and kicks.
Billy grabbed his attacker by the neck and pressed him against the wall, taking his head and hanging it forcefully against the wall. The man slumped down on the ground, groaning. He turned to look for his brother.
"Joe? Joe!"
He called out, eventually spotting his brother surrounded by a crowd. He was pinned against the wall by two men as they took turns punching him. Billy charged over, pushing through the crowd as he reach the two men attacking his brother. He grabbed one of them by the shoulders which allowed Joe to gain an advantage over the other.
Billy took the man and punched him around the face. He took this opportunity while the man was dazed to throw him through the glass window of the bar, out into the muddy street. He went out through the swinging doors to meet the man, who was still grunting in pain on the floor. Billy grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him into the middle of the road as landed a hefty kick into the man's stomach.
Joe came flying out of the bar, in seconds mounting his horse.
"Mount up, Billy!"
Billy ran up to his steed, a cream coloured Mustang he called Dumbrinn, and off they went, laughing and riding as quick as they could.