The right flank assault of a sudden slap to the back nearly caused the Green River’s First Annual Sharpshooters Jamboree winner to choke on his customary cool beer.
“Howie! See, Johnny, I told you he was back in town.”
“Aspinwall!” A left flank punch to the upper arm resulted in a slight spill of the traditional four o’clock cool beer. “Told Scott I wouldn’t believe it till I saw you with my own eyes.”
Recovering from the onslaught of good cheer, the current center of attention grinned. “Hello, gentlemen. Let me buy you a drink. Sarsaparilla, correct?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Beer’s fine and I’m buying. Henry, three here if you would be so kind.”
Behind the bar, Henry smiled as he served up the young man’s request. It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed the Lancer boys attempt at a tactical play on an unsuspecting victim. He doubted this present conversation would be the last. Considering the Sharpshooters Jamboree was only one week away, Henry was pleased his boring afternoon just got a bit more interesting.
Johnny started the discussion rolling. “City livin’ not to your likin’, Howie?”
“I thought city life was fine. It was Isabella missing her mama.”
Johnny grinned. “And you were missin’ her pa.”
Aspinwall grimaced. “Hardly.”
Scott stepped in to steer the dialogue. “Look at it this way, Howard, Isabella got you back in time for the Sharpshooters Jamboree.”
“Indeed she did! Looking forward to giving you boys a run for it. Hope you gentlemen are ready for some lively competition again this year.”
Expecting the banter which usually takes place when conversing with a Lancer, Aspinwall was instead treated to silence as the boys solemnly stared at their beers.
“What?”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“You tell him, little brother.”
Johnny leaned in. “They’re lettin’ the women shoot guns this year.”
Howie, for the second time in the last five minutes, choked on his drink. “You’re pullin’ my leg. When did this happen?”
After taking a long draw on his own beer, Scott proceeded. “The decision was made today and, if you ask me, it’s all about the politics. Crawford, Jenkins, town council...all them caving into these women’s rights activists.”
Aspinwall nodded. “Figures. Equality. San Francisco papers couldn’t print enough about the topic. It makes a man’s head hurt. These females won’t be competing with us, right?”
Johnny laughed. “Hell no. Val hasn’t gone completely loco. The ladies have their own little show before the men take over.”
“I don’t see the problem,”
Aspinwall surmised. “Let the gals have their fun. It should be rather amusing to watch as long as we don’t stand too close!” Expecting a round of laughter, Howie was again treated to a pair of gloomy drinking companions. “What?”
Scott held out his hands as if they would help explain the unexplainable. “Well, at the end of the event there’s going to be this shoot-off between the winner of the women’s event and the winner of the men’s event. The grand prize will be awarded to the champion. Quite frankly, Howard, it’s got Johnny and me worried.
It took a moment or two for the first annual sharpshooter champion to regain his composure. “Worried? What the hell do you have to be worried about?”
The older brother met his younger brother’s glance before turning his attention to…”
“Henry?”
The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Another round.”
As the newly acquired beverages were being consumed, Scott felt the moment had come to inform Howard Aspinwall what the men of Green River should indeed be worried about.
The older brother glanced around, lowered his voice and threw out the seed. “We believe there will be a ringer amongst the women competitors.”
Howard nodded. “Really? A ringer. Of course.”
Appearing knowledgeable and well-informed was extremely important to Howie. For the seed of doubt to grow, Scott was hoping this attribute had not changed in one Howard W. Aspinwall.
The blonde-headed storyteller continued. “Rumor has it she’s some Aussie sharpshooter.”
“Aussie?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Australia. She’s from Australia.”
“Oh yes. Of course. Go on.”
Scott’s voice was now almost a whisper. “They say the gal was plugging dingoes from five hundred yards by the time she was four.”
Aspinwall was impressed. “Dingoes.”
“Guess she was known as quite the prodigy in the gun-totin’ circles.”
Howie thirst for more. “What’s her name?”
“Well, I only know the stage name she went by as she toured Australia.” Scott took a sip of his beer to create a dramatic pause. “Ricochet Rose.”
Drying a beer mug, Henry rolled his eyes.
Johnny chimed in. “I hear the little lady got the name ‘Ricochet’ from firing off a wild shot now and again. Guess that would keep her audience on the edge of their seats.”
Scott decided to throw a little fertilizer on the seed of doubt. “You must have read about her Aspinwall. I’m sure she made the papers in San Francisco.”
Slowly nodding, Howie began to remember. “Yeah. Now that you mention it, I do remember reading up on this gal. She made quite the name for herself. Dingoes at five hundred yards is rather remarkable.”
Scott smiled. ‘Aspinwall, you wouldn’t know a dingo if it bit you on the ass.’
“So tell me, boys, why is Ricochet Rose in Green River?”
“Howard! Not so loud!” Scott cautiously looked over his shoulder as Johnny did the same. “Best not to announce her name or ask too many questions.”
“Oh, sure. Sorry, Scott. Just curious.”
“The way we heard it she became involved in some...let’s say shady activities. She jumped on a steamer out of Melbourne, landed in San Francisco, and made her way to Green River to start a new life.”
Silence ruled the discussion for a moment or two as the three drinking patrons sipped their beers and reflected. Finally, Howie Aspinwall asked the all-important question.
“So, why should we be worried?”
It was Johnny who broke the news as gently as he could. “What if one of us wins the men’s competition but loses to Ricochet Rose...a female. That man would be the laughing stock of the whole town. Helluva disgrace.”
The brothers watched the seed of doubt take root in Howard W. Aspinwall’s mind and begin to grow. “You’re right, Johnny. Helluva disgrace.”
Scott sighed. “Not saying it would happen, but it does give one something to think about.”
Howie slightly nodded. “Something to think about for sure.”
“Johnny and I know you can handle the pressure, which is why we told you about the Aussie gal, however, best keep the information to yourself. We’re not sure the little lady plans to make an appearance and there’s no sense of starting a panic.”
Howie continued to nod. “Something to think about alright.”
The brothers exchanged smiles as the expression on Aspinwall’s face told them the thought of losing to a female was all last year’s winner was thinking about when he wandered home to Isabella.
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