Ten Dollar Hoss and a Forty-Dollar Saddle

Ten Dollar Hoss and a Forty-Dollar Saddle

Kippel stumbled out of the cell, the door shutting and locking behind him as the criminal laid flat on the cell floor. His own face was bruised and bloodied, his bolo tie was loose and his shirt had been torn and blood soaked from the fight. He left the Rookery Bay Rider worse than he had been left, leaving the criminal laying on the ground with a bloodier face than his own. Henry could tell in the way he had fought, he must have learned from his brother. 

The young sheriff collected his coat and gun belt, fixing them on himself as an officer obnoxiously tried to check on him and his injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Kippel hissed, planting his hat back on his head and tipping it down to try to cover his face as he wiped the blood from his lip on his sleeve. “Make sure this asshole doesn’t go anywhere. I’m out of here for the night.” He panted out as he gave the officer a rugged shoulder and stepped off. 

His boots clicked on the tile floor, his spurs clicking and his head hung as he avoided looking at the officers there on his way out. He was aware he was out of line by going into the cell like that, but he wasn’t willing to hear about it from anyone there, certainly not in the moment.

He stepped outside and shut the door with a slam, his frustration still showing despite the fight he had gotten into. The slamming of the door startled Big Boy, the beast throwing his head up and pulling at the tether as he huffed and snorted, his hooves pawing at the ground in his temper tantrum. 

“Where’s Breakdown?” Henry asked, not having to look to know Jonesy was stationed next to the door as he approached his stallion. The tethered beast stretched his nose out towards Kippel, huffing and sniffing at the stench of blood from his rider as his ears pinned back. The red mare that was shoulder to shoulder with the stallion raised her head in distaste for the slammed door and let out a soft whiney of distaste for the aggression, shifting to pull at the tether and give the young sheriff the cold shoulder. 

The behavior was eased by a gentle calloused hand coming across her neck to settle her down as he approached, answered with a soft huff and nickered. 

“At the Livery, fer now.” Jonesy answered as he settled his Love Maker down. 

Kippel nodded, scratching at Big Boy’s snout to try to settle his own stallion now.

“And Robert?”

Jonesy just gave Kippel a knowing nod that was not taken lightly by the sheriff. 

“Took a beating?”

“You should see the other guy.” Kippel grumbled, running his hand down the stallion’s neck before he mounted the horse clumsily, still trying to get his bearings straight from the blows he had taken. 

A small chuckle erupted from Jonesy at the grumble, despite the deeds that had been done today the man had still tried to hold onto his optimism.

“Join me tonight.” He hummed as he mounted his appaloosa, her feet shifting as she got ready to ride. 

Henry shifted in the saddle as he put his opposite foot through the other stirrup, groaning in pain as he struggled for a moment.

“Last thing I need right now is a gambling problem.” 

Jonesy gave a heartier laugh at the comment, shaking his head as he tapped Lover’s sides to get her moving. She huffed under him as she shifted backwards and walked behind Big Boy. 

“Different problem.” Jonesy answered him, “It’ll help, fer now.” 

Henry was starting to feel the regret that came after a nasty fight, his face throbbing and his ribs aching as he started to fix his tie while on the saddle. He lowered and shook his head.

“I don’t know Jonesy.”

“I certainly do.” 

Kippel, well, he couldn’t argue with that. He let out a heavy sigh, his body reminding him he had taken a beating with the gesture before he grabbed the reins. 

The deputy sheriff shifted his reins and tapped Lover’s sides, getting the red appaloosa moving and knowing that Henry would be at his side.

Big Boy complained as his reins were pulled and he was tapped to get moving, snorting and shaking his head and mane under the sheriff that hushed him despite the throbbing in his face and the pain it caused him to do so. The ride was long, longer than it needed to be as Jonesy took him the long way around to avoid the bank to the road. The sun had set and the street lights started to come on, neon lights as they rode through the higher end of town but then the streets started to get a bit darker as they carried on and the brick streets went from well maintained to crummy. Henry shifted wearily in the saddle, glancing at Jonesy as they went to the darker part of town.

He got an uneasy feeling at the sight of the homelessness in this area, men wearing rags and some even missing limbs… he assumed they were veterans that had ended up living on the streets after the war. Woman dressed scandalously and offering their bodies for money cat calling the two well dressed men as they rode by, it added fluster to Henry’s unease and caused his cheeks to flush as he looked away and back at Jonesy.

Jonesy gave a quiet nod in response to one of the glances, taking his badge off and showing it off to the young sheriff with a flick of his wrist before hiding it in his coat pocket. Henry’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight, anxiety coming over him as he started to do the same but he didn’t feel good about it. 

The older man stopped Love Maker in front of a saloon that Kippel was convinced hadn’t been there until now. He looked it up and down with distaste, the building was mostly brick and tar but the balcony overhanging the street looked as though it could collapse any minute. Across the front of the building were big bold white letters, ‘Ale, Wine, & Cigars’. Kippel had several questions, but knowing Jonesy’s speech, he didn’t want to hear the answers to them. 

Big Boy shifted uneasily, his tail wagging slightly as he snorted in the same distaste his rider had given the place. It reeked of alcohol, tobacco smoke, stale water in the streets and mildew. Henry dismounted as Jonesy did, taking the tether to tie him down but there weren’t any posts for the horses out here. He glanced at Jonesy to see he was loosely tying Love Maker to one of the support beams to the balcony, and the man had to chuckle at how yellow the young sheriff looked. 

He reached over and took the tether from the younger man, tying Big Boy to the same post as he had Lover and patted both the horse’s noses. 

“ ‘Bout to have us a hog-killin’ time.” Jonesy grinned from ear to ear, claiming Henry’s shoulder with a firm calloused hand and shaking him as he guided him away from the snorting horses.

The older gentleman opened the door and let go of his shoulder, walking in with Henry at his heels and made his way to the bar in the smokey saloon. The music that could be faintly heard from outside nearly drowned out the rough crowd in the building that had gotten their drinking started early. Cheers, booing, dancing and laughing filled the place as a small band played with a piano, banjo and harmonica. 

“Jonesy!” The bartender roared excitedly, his arms opening up to greet him from behind the bar before he started making him his usual glass of moonshine. 

“Make it two Boone.” The older man grinned, dragging Henry to the bar despite how out of place the younger man had felt. They had a nicer saloon in the city and he couldn’t figure out why they came out to the slums of the city to drink. 

A heavy hand smacked his back to push him closer to the bar. 

“Well I’d be damned-” The man had a large mustache he must have used pompadour in but was clean shaven aside, an old worn out tie and vest that could be seen from the bar and a wide friendly smile on his face. “You brought a Kippel in here.” He laughed as he smacked two glasses of moonshine on the bar. “Looks like ya came right off the rimrock.”  

Henry had to crack a smile at the man’s charisma despite how it made his face sting and ache, claiming the glass he was offered alongside Jonesy. 

The older man stopped him from bringing it to his face, tapping his own glass against his with a grin on his face.

Henry looked at Jonesy, watching him as he downed the liquor that could be used to start a fire before he brought it to his own lips to down. The young sheriff’s face twisted up painfully in a scowl as it burned from his lips down to his stomach, sputtering out before he could finish his shot. 

The reaction caught a laugh from both the deputy sheriff and the bartender, a heavy hand smacking playfully at his back and encouraging him to finish the drink. 

A shiver went through his entire body as his face twisted up painfully and his stomach knotted up from the liquor. 

“Is this legal?” Henry asked with a sour taste in his mouth. 

“You won’t remember if it isn’t by morning my boy!” Boone laughed out as he planted two more drinks in front of the police at the bar. 

Drink after drink, it was clear the older man was far more experienced in drinking the shine than the younger sheriff. It didn’t take long for the short man to get fuzzy vision and when he finally decided to pull away from the bar, the man stumbled over the barstool that sat behind him unused. He clumsily grabbed it and caught himself on it before it toppled him over with it. Henry didn’t even feel the pain from falling as he scrambled back to his feet and his hand met a stranger’s to be lifted up. A hand helped pat his back and shoulder off, a deep laugh coming from the man that had helped him up. Henry hiccuped heavily, dusting himself off with a slack hand as the stranger helped him. 

“Come a-tie, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

The words were sung from behind him but Henry couldn’t tell where they had come from as he met the stranger’s eyes with a wide grin coming over his face. His plans of going home and grieving were long gone and replaced with the liquid encouragement to take on the world and forget the events of the day. The drunken sheriff started to crack up, hitting the man’s chest playfully as a giggle raised from his chest. 

“You’re a good man, tell you what,” He laughed out. “Get yerself a drink on me!” He slurred to the fuzzy man.

“Mus’ be feeling perty good short stack.” The man laughed out at him, his red hair and beard coming into focus to the sheriff that squinted at him with a grin on his face. 

“I wake in the mornin’ afore daylight,

And afore I sleep the moon shines bright,

Come a-tie, yi-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Come-a-tie, yi-yippy-yippy-yay~”

The old irish accent sung out from the bar, sounding in tune with the music that played despite the band playing something else entirely. 

“If I do say so myself!” Henry giggled out, holding onto the man’s arm for support as he wavered, bringing his hand up to point at him. “Less both us get drinks. Yer a good man!” He laughed out loud. “What do they call you?”

The man practically carried him the two steps back to the bar, laughing at the younger man’s attitude as Henry stumbled against him and then tossed himself over the bar. Henry pressed his chest against the bar as he reached and pointed at the bartender that was nearly in touching range.

“Three more on me!” He giggled out, throwing four fingers up and Boone was more than happy to comply with the four fingers that had been requested.

“Feet in the stirrups and a seat in the saddle,

I hung and rattled with them longhorn cattle, 

Come a-tie, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

With the Irishman’s persistence, the band started to play in tune with the drunken man at the bar.

Henry claimed one drink, downing it with a ginger on one side and a grayed deputy on the other side. The drink spilled down the edge of his lips as he downed it, losing nearly as much as he actually drank. Before he could claim the fourth drink, the stranger stole it from his fingertips and downed it himself.

“These’ll be on me shortstack.” He cracked out at the distraught look the younger man gave him.

“Oh, it’s bacon and beans most every day,

I’d soon be a-eatin’ prairie hay, 

Come a-whoop-i-la, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

“I don’t think you can afford all this.” Kippel laughed out, his eyes squinting in his laughter as the Irishman continued to sing out to his other side between drinks. “What did you say your name was?”

The stranger joined in the laughter from the stranger and downed the fourth drink with ease, shaking his head as answered the repeated question. 

“I dont give a darn if they never do stop;

I’ll ride as long as an eight o'clock day,

Come a-tie, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

Henry laughed out and smacked the man across the chest playfully before shaking a finger in the man’s face.

“Imma hafta remember you.” Henry giggled out, leaning against the man as he cracked up and then shoved the man with an elbow. 

“I don’t think you will.” The man laughed, playfully shoving Henry off of him only for Henry to return back against him and rest his head comfortably on the man’s shoulder. He was lucky enough to run into such a laid back man in this area.

A hat was returned to his head and Kippel didn’t even remember losing it until it was back on his head. He looked up at the stranger and smiled wide, shoving the man once more in a playful gesture and a hoot came from his chest.

“I went to the boss to draw my roll,

Had it figured out I was nine dollars in the hole,

Come a-tie-yay-ay

Come a-tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay!~”

The stranger lit a rolled cigarette and puffed on it for a moment before planting it in Kippel’s mouth. The bar spun around him as he pulled away from the bar, a lit cigarette in his mouth and his hat ending up in his hand as he moved to the song in an unfashionable way. Laughter was heard from all around him and Kippel joined in with it as he enjoyed himself with slurred banter in the night. 

He stumbled under a calloused hand as he was walked outside by the grayed man, his feet moving on their own and as he looked down, he swore he was standing ten feet higher and his feet were controlling themselves. The man had been right, he had forgotten about his deed that day and drank enough he even forgot about his beaten and bruised face and body. 

Jonesy climbed onto his Love Maker with a struggle, the mare turning her head and nudging his side with her snout as she realized his inebriated state. The older man let out a hoot, shifting restlessly in the saddle as he gathered his reins in his hands and Love Maker pawed and shifted in place as if she had started to dance with the man as he started singing out. The mare was more than used to the man’s wild behavior after leaving the unsavory smelling saloon and experienced man’s chanting.

“O’ a ten dollar hoss and a forty-dollar saddle,

A rope in my hand and a cow by the tail,

Woop-i-lay, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

Henry’s face and ears were flushed red, letting out a hearty laugh at the older man’s antics. He grabbed onto the horn and the cantel of the saddle, his foot missing the stirrup the first and then the second time before he made contact and pulled himself onto the saddle. Big Boy wasn’t nearly as compliant with the unfamiliar aromas and handling, throwing his head and pacing in place as his tether was still attached to the building. The sandy sabino snorted and pulled at the tether, raising his head as the short man saddled him so clumsily and threatened to buck with a few jumps.

“It’s cloudy in the West, a-lookin’ like rain,

My darned old slicker’s in the wagon again,

Come a-tie, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

The red headed stranger took the tether to the expensive looking horse and undid it from the post with a smile exposing under his red whiskers, holding onto it as he petted the beast’s snout to keep him from bucking. Big Boy snorted at the man, though not usually fond of strangers, he smelled like the saloon and Kippel. The horse huffed and growled at the man as he was soothed, his tail flicking as he shook his head with the sheriff drunkenly patting at his neck. 

“Think yall can make it home?” The stranger asked Kippel. “Big Boy don’t seem to compliant.”

Henry smiled wide, pulling his hat off his head as he puffed on the cigarette in his mouth. 

“Not my first rodeo friend.” Jonesy laughed out in a short break from his hollering. 

The man looked over and smiled wide, shaking his head playfully as he tossed Kippel the tether the short man nearly missed as it went over Big Boy’s crest. 

Jonesy pulled his reins and tapped Lover’s sides, the horse loyally moving under him to go down the road. With a sharp mind, the mare knew which way to go home as she carried her rider as she wagged her tail and bobbed her head to the man’s chanting.

“With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky,

I’ll quit punchin’ cows in the sweet by and by,

 Come a-whoop-i-la, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

Henry giggled as he watched his mentor carry on and ride off, shifting his reins and tapping Big Boy to follow only for the beast to start throwing another fit under him. Kippel’s smile as he scrambled for the reins and gripped with his legs as the beast jumped to kick him off and tossed his head, but the reins slipped from his hands and he took claim of the horn as the horse continued to try and throw him. His beast’s ears pinned back and touched at the tips, lowering his jaw as he threw his head under him and kicked his back feet out before tossing and diving. 

Kippel, in one of his better nights, may have been able to handle the steed but in his impaired state he found himself in the air. He let out a gasp as he landed flat on the ground, his breath nearly ripped from him but his body refusing to register pain.

“Come a-tie, yippy-yippy-yay, yippy-yay

Tie-yay, yippy-yippy-yay~”

His mentor hadn’t even noticed he’d been thrown from his horse as he rose off down the muck filled street. Hell, Kippel barely realized he had been kicked off until the stranger was pulling him to his feet with laughter in his voice. 

“Didn’t think any horse could buck ya?” The man asked as he helped him to his feet. 

Kippel shook his head, reaching up for his hat but found nothing but his hair. 

“I be damned.” He chuckled out as he wavered. “Damned horse got lucky.” 

Big Boy scraped a hoof against the dirty street, nickering in success as he started to slowly walk off, huffing and puffing in frustration as his tail waved with attitude. 

“Spoiled and stubborn.” Kippel slurred, holding onto the man’s shoulder to support himself. 

“You look like you’ve had a helluva day.” The stranger chuckled. “ ‘Nd I don’t think your horse wants to be ridden. Why don’ I ride ye home?” The man offered.

“Well ain’t that mighty kind o’ ya?” Kippel asked as he held onto the man’s arm for support, watching his horse stray as Jonesy on his mare disappeared around the corner. 

“Even ‘member where ye live shortstack?” The man asked with a laugh as he walked the drunken sheriff to his own horse.

Kippel’s eyebrows scrunched together in thought as he slowly nodded. “I’d say yea, but not I’m not quite sure where I am.” He confessed as he was guided. 

The stranger mounted his own horse, a stocky red horse with white splotches and a dark mane where a dun stripe followed down to his short tail. A pure mustang with mismatched blue and brown eyes and dark striped socks at his feet. Between the man and the horse was a cheap saddle and as Kippel’s eyes focused and squinted up at him, he noticed the large belt buckle of a bull rider the man wore. 

“Ya know, I didn’t get yer name.” Kippel slurred, causing a hearty laugh to erupt from the broad man on his bull neck mustang. 

“You need me to lift you up on this horse Henry?” The man chuckled out, offering his hand to pull him up. “Or are you really gonna try to get on your steed again?” 

Henry’s eyebrows furrowed, the lit cigarette butt flicking in his mouth as he thought before clasping the man’s hand and getting pulled onto the horse behind him.

“You know I’ve told you my name three times now.” The man teased him.

Henry dropped the cigarette from his mouth as he was given the information, starting to rake through his brain of the already fuzzy night for an answer. 

“I can hear the steam coming outta your ears.” The ginger laughed, squeezing his horse to get moving and grabbed the tether hanging from Big Boy to tie around his horn and start leading. The man shushed the misbehaving horse, patting at his neck as he huffed and puffed. 

“Why don’t you try to remember where you live rather than try to remember my name?” 

“Oh- yeah, I live off Trellis and Huntington.” Henry told him, the steady sound of the hooves as they got moving had started to lull the drunken man as the music of the saloon got faint with distance. 

The young brunette ended up leaning against the soft corduroy jacket the man wore, his eyes watching his sandy stallion as he walked alongside them. 

“Maverick.” The man finally answered him, a small chuckle coming from the man’s chest as Henry leaned against him. The ride was slow and easy, the bull rider taking it easy to make sure Henry’s stomach contents didn’t decide they didn’t want to settle. 

“Maverick.” Henry muttered quietly, the street empty aside from the two of them at this hour. Even Jonesy’s obnoxious singing in the night couldn’t be heard anymore and the high that Henry had felt only moments ago up the road seemed to stay at the bar. A weight started to fall on the young sheriff’s shoulders, nearly dozing against the man that he rode with. 

“Big Boy, he’s a good horse. Jus’ stubborn.” 

“Must've gotten that from you I imagine.” Maverick hummed.

“Maybe.” Henry chuckled slightly, his face tingling and reminding him of his injuries though they would hurt far worse in the morning. 

“Feelin’ that crash?”

“Is that what that is?” 

Henry had to smile at Maverick’s chuckle, admittedly, it was contagious. 

“Which one is yours?” Mave asked as they turned on the street, the street well kept and decorated with floral plants, all lit by the dim streetlights that ran up the side of the road.

 Henry’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat up and looked up the street, “It’s the tan house, two stories with a metal gate.” He told the ginger, pointing up the road. “Couple houses down.” 

“Mighty nice neighborhood.” Maverick muttered, riding up the road before Henry told him to stop and pointed his house out. “Come from money?” 

Henry chuckled, shifting to climb off the mustang and stumbled as he was reminded his feet didn’t work properly. The young sheriff caught himself on the sandy stallion, grabbing the saddle and feeling a wave of sickness come over him. 

“Nnnng, ohh-” He couldn’t even warn the man before his guts started to spill. 

“Woah, woah-” Maverick eased his mustang’s steps from the sudden eruption from the smaller companion. “Easy shortstack.” He followed with a chuckle, dismounting his stallion and pulling them away from the younger man so he didn’t mess on their hooves more than he already had. 

“Don’t fight it, you’ll make it worse.” Maverick told him as he tethered both the horses to a post outside the house. 

Henry slowly lowered himself to the ground, his head clearing up and starting to pound with each ounce he lost. 

“Oh god-” 

A hand patted at his back, catching the hat that nearly fell from his head and into his mess.
“Don’t look like you had much to eat today.” Mave teased the trembling man as he helped him back to his feet. “Let’s get you inside, least I can do.” He offered. 

Henry nodded, holding onto the man’s shoulder as he walked through his gate and down the stone path to the steps to his door. 

Maverick couldn’t help but admire the nice house, though he’d never live in a place as frivolous he certainly could admire the building. 

Henry fumbled with his keys, finally getting the door opened and nearly fell through it but was caught by the back of his coat with a laugh. 

“Not to invite myself in-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Henry interrupted as he stumbled into his house. Stairs led up to the second story on the left and the parlor was to the right, “Ye got me this far.” 

Maverick stepped in after him, looking around at the nicely kept home of the nicely dressed stranger as he followed after him. He felt out of place in a building like this, but he followed Henry deeper into the house and to the parlor as shortstack let himself drop onto the couch with a grunt and leaned back. 

“Make yourself at home.” Henry slurred, leaning back and closing his eyes. “I just… need to rest my eyes.” He grumbled out, sniffling tiredly as he slouched against the couch and propped a foot up on the table- his spur nicking the edge of the table.  

“Don’t tell me that, you’ll never get rid of me.” Maverick laughed. 

Henry shook his head with a faint chuckle, “You’ve been good to me, can’t imagine why I’d want to be rid of you.” 

The ginger’s whiskers flicked as he watched him for a moment before shaking his head. “You got anything I can use to clean your face up?” He asked. 

“Probably something in the cabinet.” Henry muttered, already half asleep as he gestured loosely towards a piece of solid furniture in the corner before his arm went limp next to him. 

The larger man patted his leg before digging through the cabinet he gestured to but by the time he turned back around to the younger man, he was asleep as if he had been that way all along. 

Maverick merely smiled, standing by his word and cleaned the sleeping man’s face up from the dried blood, bandaging him before he slipped out in the night. He didn’t suspect that he would be remembered in the morning.