Chapter 16: Oasis

It was hot, even for summer in the Southwest. The shimmering air was not conducive to comfort for anyone unfortunate enough to be outdoors – and someone was. A weary horseman headed at snail’s pace towards a huddle of buildings that made up the only settlement for many miles around. Coated with the ubiquitous dust, man and beast looked almost like a single creature – a moving statue.

On reaching the livery stable, the man arranged care for his mount, then crossed the baking street to the saloon, finding it occupied only by the owner, Sean O’Reilly, who paused in his work of cleaning the bartop to cast his eyes over the apparition before him. ‘Howdy, ‘ he said with a nod. ‘Warm out there.’

The newcomer took off his hat and used it to batter the rest of his apparel, raising a storm that would later keep the fastidious host busy for half an hour. ‘Sure is, ‘ he replied, ‘an’ I reckon I’ve had my share of it. You can give me the longest beer you have, then maybe a few more.’

Observing his visitor’s condition, O’Reilly summoned a look that managed to combine pain and embarrassment, then turned up his palms. ‘Sorry, I can’t oblige you right now.’

‘What’s that?’ said the fatigued stranger, his forearms resting on the bar.

O’Reilly shrugged resignedly. ‘Like to help you, friend, but we have a town ordinance against drinkin’ in public places before six o’clock an’ it’s only four forty.’

The stranger’s face took on a hostile look. ‘You tryin’ to make fool of me?’ he snapped.

‘Nope. We got a deputy sheriff here who’s mighty touchy about such things. If I sell you any liquor before time, he’ll likely close me down.’

‘Beer ain’t liquor.’

‘It is here.’

The stranger straightened sharply. ‘Mister, ‘ he rasped, ‘I mean to have a beer, an’ if you won’t serve it, I’ll help myself.’ He had no way of knowing that the saloon-keeper was the most formidable brawler in the county and never loath to demonstrate his pugilistic power.

O’Reilly stepped out from behind the bar, loosening his apron strings. ‘You’re out of line, ‘ he said. ‘I guess I’ll have to put you right.’ He cocked his fists in a reflex action, yet for once he didn’t really like the idea of doing what was in his mind. He saw that apart from being dead beat, the stranger was obviously well over a decade ahead of his own thirty-two years and, though matching him in height at five-eleven, was a stringy hundred and fifty pounds or so, facing a hard-packed two hundred and ten.

Having noted that O’Reilly was unarmed, the gaunt stranger might have chosen to enforce his will with the threat of lead, but he knew there was a code. He opened his gun belt and tossed it onto a table. ‘Let’s get started, ‘ he growled.