Okay, so here's what happened: The Kid was a bit miffed that Heyes hijacked "his" story the last time I tried writing one (i.e. "Fall From Grace"). He has been nagging me to write a story just for him to make up for it. And since his partner had more than his fair share of feminine company in said hijacked story, Kid has suggested that there might possibly be a pretty little damsel in distress in his story as well, 'cuz he kinda likes coming to their rescue. So here goes….
Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had ridden into Bridgerton, Colorado on a sunny Monday afternoon in late August. After a week in the saddle, they'd intended to soak off the trail dust in a nice hot bath, indulge in a couple of barber shaves, treat themselves to nice juicy steaks with all the trimmings, sink a couple of beers, play a little poker, sleep one night in a real bed, then re-supply and move along on Tuesday. But here it was Thursday and they'd checked off every item on the to-do list save for the last. And now it seemed they would be sticking around in Bridgerton for a while longer. As Kid had remarked the first day, it was a "right friendly town." The townfolk were welcoming, but not overly curious about the two strangers. So far, they'd never crossed paths with the sheriff (coincidentally named Smith!), and he didn't seem the suspicious type, either. Prices in the hotel, mercantile, and cafe were reasonable. And ever since they'd first bellied up to the green baize poker table in the local saloon, they'd heard lots of talk about The Big Game on Saturday night. The buy-in wasn't cheap: $1000. But the payout could be ten times that. After playing against the locals for three days running, Heyes was convinced that not only could he raise the rest of the necessary funds by Saturday, he could walk away with most if not all of the pot that night. Then they'd finish up that list by moving on.
So here it was Thursday evening and the partners were once again in the midst of a friendly game with a few local fellows they'd gotten to know: Seth, the greengrocer, who was blessed with a great poker face, but who also had a tendency towards making poor decisions when it counted. Nevertheless, Seth remained cheerfully optimistic that he would prevail in the next game. Or maybe the next one after that... William, the blacksmith, was a conservative player. His towering stature and bulging biceps contrasted markedly with his gentle nature. Heyes and Curry counted it as a point in Bridgerton's favor that not a single soul kicked up a fuss when William, who happened to have skin the color of mahogany, drank beer and played poker right alongside the lighter-skinned citizenry. Jake was the youngster of the group, a gangly youth of 18 or 19 years. He had mentioned once that he was the Mayor's oldest boy, but he didn't seem to expect any special treatment. He was only home for a few more weeks before he and his younger brother Will would return to school in Denver. The last player at the table was Howie, the middle-aged barber who had shaved the boys their first day in town. A garrulous and friendly gentleman, he had told his clients about the Big Game, along with all the gossip of Bridgerton, the most exciting item apparently being the imminent arrival of an actual college-educated schoolteacher "all the way from Illinois" (pronounced as though it ended in "noise") who would soon be teaching at the newly built Bridgerton schoolhouse – the one-room variety, but it was a beginning, Howie insisted. Howie had also invited the newcomers to join him and his friends that evening for some five card draw, and they'd been coming back for a friendly game - or two, or three -every night since.
Truth be told, the Kid was getting a little bored of poker, but Heyes was in his glory – winning just enough to increase his stake without drawing undue attention or skinning the competition. Curry tossed in a particularly poor hand and glanced around the saloon, considering getting another drink. It was pretty much his only option. He'd already complained to his partner that Bridgerton might have been friendly and welcoming, but it was missing what in his opinion was one of the crucial requirements of an ideal community: Saloon girls! Bridgerton boasted only this one drinking establishment, the not very imaginatively named Bridgerton Saloon, which employed but one bartender, the decidedly NOT female Sal, not to mention the also-not-female elderly fellow who mopped up after closing. It seems the Founding Fathers of Bridgerton had made the decision early on that their little piece of the West was not going to be Wild. Any soiled doves that happened to alight in Bridgerton soon moved along for lack of job opportunities. "They won't be able to keep 'em out forever," Heyes had pronounced. But that didn't help the Kid now. At least there were a couple pretty gals who worked in the café, teenaged daughters of the matronly proprietor, whom he could flirt with and at least receive a tiny portion of feminine attention in return - along with extremely delicious viddles. He especially liked the way the younger one's cheeks would pink up when he paid her even the most innocent of compliments.