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Post by Casey Bronson on Apr 28, 2009 19:47:08 GMT -8
BRONSON bad-boy deputy, with a heart tooth of gold[/center][/font] Casey Bronson rode his horse slowly into town, the days light just creeping over the edge of the hills and everything feeling very at-peace. You wouldn't expect that Casey had been up all night, not with the way he was dressed so properly, looked so correct and-- oh, no, he yawned. It sort of broke the spell. Sort of broke the wonder that was Casey Bronson.
He slowed his mare gently, he cared for his horse as much as he'd care for any other human being and knew that Rose had to have been just as tired as he. Although, she had the oppertunity to sleep, while he and the Sherrif had been up most of the night with a strange case out on the outskirts of town. Casey slipped off Rose and tied her to the post outside the Jail House, and took teh stair two at a time, and stepped inside.
"Mornin'" he yawned once again, tipping his hat in greeting to Jake and then removing it and hanging it on the wall. "Anything exciting happened yet?" he grinned mischeviously. Maybe the Sherrif would be tired today, and he could get a rise out of him. IT was a long standing game between the two, spending so much time together they had gotten to know one another pretty well, and knew where to push buttons when they needd to be. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Sojourner on Apr 28, 2009 20:21:44 GMT -8
The low thunk of a boot on the wooden step outside the door caused Jake to snap back to full consciousness. Though getting him to admit to having dozed over his reports of the night's activities would be about as possible as turning coal to gold, he had done just so. He was able to straighten himself out a bit before Bronson came in, but there was still an element of grogginess in his manner as his ran a hand over his shortly cropped hair.
"I believe we had our share of excitement last night," Jake responded a little more darkly than he might otherwise have. It was true. They had spent the majority of the night negotiating with a rancher who was absolutely convinced that one of his best colts had been stolen. Tracking one horse among several in the dead of night had been difficult enough, but when they found the poor creature, it was to discover that it had managed to trap itself in a muddy ditch. By the time they had managed to hoist the weary animal out, they had been covered practically from head to toe in muck. Even after they got the colt back to its owner, the man insisted that foul play had to have been involved -- the colt certainly would not have gotten himself into such a mess on his own. By the time they were headed home, dawn had been two short hours away.
The deputy had cleaned up nicely, looking sharp in his fresh outfit. Jake still had dirt under his fingernails and his boots were likely to be wrecked by the drying mud if he didn't clean and oil them soon. "You're welcome to go track down the mustang herd and take count of them if you find you have an abundance of energy. Some of those mares were looking about ready to foal out last time I saw 'em." He stood and made his way out onto the jailhouse porch in the hopes that a little fresh air would fight back the rest of the drowsiness. The rest of the town was beginning to stir into life.
The sheriff leaned against one of the supporting posts and took out one of his knives, using it to carefully dislodge the dirt from beneath his fingernails. He wasn't particularly in the mood for Casey to be picking at him like he often did, but he meant to maintain his usual fortitude whatever it took. Having been sheriff for a shorter time than Casey himself had been deputy, there was reason enough for some underlying tension. Bronson was likely used to making the majority of decisions regarding the town's law on his own, with Old Tom being less and less able to do it himself.
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Post by Casey Bronson on Apr 29, 2009 13:41:53 GMT -8
BRONSON bad-boy deputy, with a heart tooth of gold[/center][/font] Casey nodded in agreement. The colt had not only taken a great amount of strain and energy, it had also stolen his night from him as well. Although, he was sure he could forgive it just this once. Casey took his place behind his own desk and rested his head on his hand and stared down at the paper. Paperwork, his nose wrinkled slightly, it was annoying and he hated it. But he did it diligently, and carefully.
"I suppose I will, once I'm finished with this report." Casey nodded simply. "Been any parties t'go out?" he looked up to Jake, who was outside at this point. He shrugged a bit, figuring that the Sherrif was a bit moody, today especially and would leave him be from this point on. At least, until he forgot that he was supposed to be taking it easy on the poor guy.
Casey leaned back in his seat and surveyed the room with a disinterested eye. He had spent many an all-nighter in here, keeping watch on prisoners and a plethera of other things. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Sojourner on Apr 29, 2009 17:42:59 GMT -8
Jake finished picking the grime out from under his fingernails and flicked the knife back onto itself. He leaned his head back a moment, and took a deep, long breath of the morning air. There had certainly been times before this that he had been up all night... sometimes even several nights in a row. With a breath of fresh air and a bite to eat, he'd be back to himself. It was being caught off guard that had put him off his game for a moment. Truth be told, he liked his job. It sure beat the socks off wandering about aimlessly. Sure, he'd had his days of ranging on his own, but a man got tired of that after a time.
"I'll come out there with you, if you give me a moment to get a bite to eat and get the worst of this mess of my boots," Jake said as he came back in through the main room and reached into the storage closet to pull out a stiff brush. "Have you eaten anything yet?" He reached down to pull first one, then the other boot off and made his way back out to the porch to brush off the caked mud.
By getting a bite to eat, he didn't mean anything fancy. Jake usually cooked himself a warm dinner, but the other meals consisted more often than not of dried goods, bland bread, and perhaps a bit of milk that one of the ranchers' wives had brought in for the sheriff and his deputy. It was fortunate that Cahone's women usually pitched in to feed the two of them odd scraps here and there.
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Post by Casey Bronson on Apr 29, 2009 18:42:44 GMT -8
BRONSON bad-boy deputy, with a heart tooth of gold[/font][/center] Casey looked up tiredly as the Sherrif spoke. Casey laughed "No, haven't really had the shot to grab anything." he shook his head. Casey tended to not eat anything that he made for his self. Supper was-- at most-- baked beans when he had to make it. Otherwise, he'd grab a sandwich from the saloon, and walk around the streets one last time before heading on home. It was his own personal 'cool off time' or, whatever it was he needed time. "Why don't we just grab some grub from the inn, and we can eat it ridin' out?" Casey offered.
"Here-- toss the other one over, then." Casey held out a hand with a smile. "Two hands are better than one, and that looks like quite the job t'accomplish." [/blockquote] |
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Post by Sojourner on Apr 29, 2009 19:27:59 GMT -8
Jake willingly tossed his opposite boot across the room to Casey and finished brushing off the first. He would wipe them down with a damp cloth and oil them tonight, but for now the goal was simply to get the chunks and layers of dried mud off. He pulled the one boot on, and clunked back over to Casey to take his other back.
"Alright, we'll drop by the inn." Under different circumstances he might have insisted on toughing it out rather than to pay the extra for food from the inn... but something warm sounded particularly appealing this morning. "You ready to head out? I think we ought to find the mustangs out near the springs... or at least be able to track them from there. They usually make a trip there to drink in the mornings." Watching after the mustangs was something that Jake didn't much mind about his duties as sheriff. Much like ranchers had their cattle, he had the herd of feral mustangs to keep count of. The only bothersome part was the periodic roundups, particularly when it came to dealing with Roman.
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Post by Casey Bronson on May 1, 2009 18:13:17 GMT -8
BRONSON bad-boy deputy, with a heart tooth of gold[/center][/font] Casey scrubbed at the boot with a steady motion, until his head the clump-whoosh of the Sherrif making his way over to him. He glanced upwards, and rose. "Right, that should do you." he held out the boot with a smile. He didn't mind the Sherrif all that much, and he even didn't mind the fact that Jake had gotten the Sherrif spot, despite the fact that Casey had been the deputy for longer.
He liked his job, he got to protect the town, and do a lot of the work a Sherrif would do, for about the same pay, but without half of the stress. Casey got jealous from time to time, but Casey also knew that if Jake had been selected, there was a reason for it. Jake had something Casey didn't , and he'd have to accept it.
He noticed the hesitancy when Jake replied, but didn't comment on it. "My treat." he nodded with a grin. He dusted his legs of some invisible dust and strode to the wall, to fetch his hat once again, and placed it on his head. "They'll be heading into the spring in a little while." he agreed. "They might wait a bit out in the feilds, especially if one of them had foaled, they'd give the little one a bit to explore. The mother a chance to re-coop." he said generally. [/blockquote] |
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Post by Sojourner on May 3, 2009 18:51:05 GMT -8
Jake took up his own hat even as he gave a nod of agreement with Bronson's statement regarding the mustangs and their probable behavior. He pulled the brim down snug over his brow and stepped back out into the morning sunshine to make the short stroll over to the Crazy Wolf. The temperature was somewhat brusque, but it had warmed some since they had gotten back from last night's fiasco, and the clear skies promised a fair day.
"You needn't pay my fare," Jake said as they stepped into the saloon. "I'm perfectly capable of getting it myself." He wasn't going to get into a petty back and forth over it. If the deputy insisted, he wouldn't go on about it. It was easier just to accept a bit of kindness than to admantly refuse it on the grounds of pride or some such silliness.
The saloon was mercifully quiet at this time of day. For once, the upright piano sat alone, with no one before it to make it sing a raucous song. Jake stepped up to the counter and ordered himself a good meal of eggs, bacon, oatmeal, and a roll of fresh bread. He sat down and turned back to Casey. For lack of anything much better to say, he went on about the mustangs. "You figure that big chestnut mare's foaled out yet? I'd be interested to see her colt this year 'round. Seems to me like she has some good strong foals."
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Post by Casey Bronson on May 4, 2009 18:25:44 GMT -8
BRONSON bad-boy deputy, with a heart tooth of gold[/center][/font] "Consider it your welcoming gift." Casey offered one last time, meaning it sincerely. There hadn't been much of a greeting except for worried people wanting to know what was going to change, and how. "I don't believe I ever got around to giving you one." He had his mind on other things, like women among ...other things.
Casey trooped in after the Sherrif and cast a precusory glance around the place. It was strange to see it so empty, when he had always seen it so brimming with life, and excitemet, to a certain extent. "I'll have the same. And a coffee." he tipped his hat to the man behind the bar and took a seat at one of the tables.
"Hmmm." Casey rubbed at his face, and mumbled his agreement. "Her, an' that pretty palamino horse." he said, guestering vaguely towards the direction of the feils where the mustangs normally gathered. "It'll be interesting to see all of the new arrivals, t'be frank." he laughed slightly. He loved the little foals, even if he wouldn't admit it, they're knobbly knees and funny first steps. They were so precious, and to think they'd grow up to be as magestic as some that they had running about here... it was even more special. |
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Post by Sojourner on May 4, 2009 19:36:29 GMT -8
"The young mare?" He asked in reference to the palomino Casey had mentioned. Their breakfast arrived on two heavy ceramic plates, still steaming and aromatic. Jake took up the fork and dug in hungrily. "She is a fine one. She might fetch a good price in the auctions come time to round some of them up this summer." He ate with little ceremony, feeling no need for careful etiquette. That wasn't to say that he got the food all over himself and the table... he simply didn't mind scarfing it down a bit more quickly than he would have if a lady were present.
When it came to the mustangs, one of the primary concerns was to capture horses that were most likely to sell well and earn a fair profit for the sheriff's office. These usually tended to be the younger horses, particularly those with striking coloring. Of course, they were always willing to take specific requests from the townspeople and ranchers. Jake finished his breakfast and thanked the cook.
"I need to get Blaze groomed and saddled," he said as he rose and turned to head out. He'd noticed that Bronson's horse was already waiting at the hitch, but he hadn't yet bothered his mare since getting back into town early this morning. "It won't take me more'n a few minutes. Meet me out front of the stables when in a bit." Jake exited and strolled over to the stables. Blaze was snoozing near the back of her stall when he arrived, but she didn't lay her ears back with dismay at seeing him as she might have after working so hard the night before. This earned her an extra handful of oats and a good scratch at the withers where she loved it most. The sheriff curried her down and brushed her off, checked her legs and hooves to be sure that all was well, and saddled her. They went back out to where Casey's mount waited in langorous boredom.
OOC: You can go ahead and move the thread to Sunlit Sentinel in the ranges... I think that's where we'll be headed next.
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