Sheriff Val Crawford sat back behind his desk to assess the two gentlemen currently sitting in front of him. The dark-haired one on his left he had plenty of experience with so the young man’s sly smile being displayed was an immediate red flag. Crawford slowly shifted his eyes to the blonde-haired gentleman on his right. Less past history with this one, however, enough knowledge told Val the second crafty grin could be just as troublesome. Considering the handbill for the Sharpshooters Jamboree had accompanied his visitors and was now centered prominently on his desk, the sheriff was certain this would not be a brief conversation. Taking out a matchstick to occupy the corner of his mouth, Crawford settled in.
“What brings you boys here on such a fine day?”
Johnny’s drawl was a far too familiar sign; usually indicating a hidden agenda. “Aw, come on, Val. Maybe we’re just stoppin’ in to say hello. That suspicious nature of yours is getting worse.”
The sheriff leaned forward and tapped the sharpshooter’s handbill. “This suspicious nature is tellin’ me something more than a howdy-do.”
Scott nodded. “Well, actually we wanted to talk to you about the contest and the petition.”
“Uh-huh.” The sheriff rearranged the matchstick to visit the opposite corner of his mouth. “The petition.”
“Which you signed.”
Val raised an eyebrow. “Nothin’ wrong with my memory Scott, thank you very much.”
The older brother’s sudden sheepish expression put a smile on the sheriff’s face. “Go on. I’m listenin’.”
Clearing his throat, Scott continued. “Johnny and I were…”
“Curious.”
Val’s gaze slid to the younger man. “Don’t interrupt your brother. It’s impolite.” A second sheepish expression joined the first. The sheriff of Green River was enjoying himself. “As you were sayin’, Scott?”
“Right, well Val, we are curious if there’s been a decision regarding the fairer sex joining in on the competition.”
The matchstick danced across the sheriff’s lips to return to its original position. “Curious to know if me, the mayor and the town council are...visionaries. If we are agreeing to equality and women’s rights and all. Makin’ sure as an elected official I have the best interest of the voters and the voters-to-be in mind. Correct?”
Johnny beamed. “Just lookin’ out for your political future, Val.”
“Uh-huh.” The matchstick, once removed from the sheriff’s mouth, now took on the role of a pointer. “Cut the horse crap; both of you. My political future is not what you came here to talk about.” The matchstick tapped the handbill. “Best start tellin’ me the real reason I’m looking at this piece of paper on my desk.”
Muttering, Johnny leaned on his knees and looked down at the floor. “Told you it wouldn't work. I said he’d see right through it.”
Crossing his arms, Scott sat back looking defeated with a slight pout thrown in for good measure.
“Ain't got all day, boys.”
Sighing, the older brother began the confession. “It's Kinsey.”
Val rolled his eyes as a new matchstick was retrieved and inserted. “Not my problem.”
“Now that she knows about the petition she's not letting this rest. It's all Johnny and I hear about.”
The matchstick wobbled in time with the reply. “Still not my problem.”
Johnny pushed back his hat. “I think I heard her talking to Teresa’s magpie book readers about organizing a rally. Might cause a ruckus during the competition.”
Val’s eyes narrowed. “Scott, you promised to keep that little girl outta my hair. I should have never turned her loose after she assaulted me.”
The younger brother grinned. “Gee, Val. I heard she hardly kicked you.”
“Yeah, well, you heard wrong.”
Expressing deep concern, Scott rejoined the conversation. “Look, sheriff, I know I promised to work on Kinsey’s behavior but the young lady is stubborn. Maybe you should lock her up.”
Crawford raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Sure.” Scott smiled. “That way she would be your problem.”
Focusing on the handbill, the matchstick made a few trips from one corner of Val’s mouth to the other; a sign of pondering. The sheriff rose to look out the window. “I’ve been thinkin’...”
Two brothers exchanged glances.
“The contest is in a week. I guess we could arrange a small event for the womenfolk to participate in. We'd hold it before the start of the real competition. Could be entertaining to watch some of these young ladies with a gun in their hand.” Val turned to eyeball the dark-haired gentleman. “However, some of us might want to stay out of range depending on the young lady totin’ the firearm.” Johnny grinned and pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Trouble is boys, we only got one grand prize.”
Scott’s smile widened. “Val, I just had a thought when you mentioned ‘entertaining’. What if we had a shoot-off between the winner of the women’s event and the winner of the men’s event? Now, we all know the man is going to win but, it would certainly be showing support for equality not to mention damn entertaining.”
The sheriff of Green River scratched his chin and began to nod in agreement. “I like it. I like it a lot. Let me talk to Jenkins and we’ll start getting the word out.”
Leaning against one of the few shade trees Green River’s main street had to offer, two young men stood watch.
“Are you sure, big brother?”
“I am. At precisely four o’clock one Howard Aspinwall leaves his father-in-law’s butcher shop, walks across the street, and enters yonder saloon for a nice cool beer.”
No sooner had Scott finished his sentence when the brothers observed one Howard Aspinwall leaving his father-in-law’s butcher shop, walk across the street, and enter yonder saloon for a nice cool beer.
Scott grinned. “Time to plant the seed of doubt. I’m buyin’.”
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