A/N: Just another one of my RDR fics but this one is about my new OC Jeremiah Locke and what has happened in his life back south and now in Nuevo Paraiso with his younger adopted sister. Yes it is about De Santa too just because I like him and there is like no fics about him so this is to make up for that! And remember this is a work of FICTION! I DON'T OWN ANYTHING/ANYBODY~

The new waiter

Beginning: The meeting

It was muggy late evening in Nuevo Paraiso and the buzzards were ganged together high in the orange sky like some hungry wild beasts circling a newly rotting corpse in the dirt as the cicadas were singing their hearts out bouncing from cactus to cactus getting louder by the minute. The townspeople of Escalera were in their sacks snoring away while others played a few rounds of Poker or had a couple minutes with some of the local whores for a cheap price.

Nothing was really going on around here but maybe that was because of the time; it wasn't that late yet that the drunks of Escalera had to arrive.

But there was one young boy the new waiter of the saloon scrubbing down the countertop and the table tops with his dirty damp rag that almost matched the apron around his waist. He can't even remember how he got here in the first place; this boy Jeremiah Lock was a southern boy with a strong accent and strong style from his home town and he was afraid for his life to be here; he wasn't a racist kid but his father was and for a deputy Jonah was pretty bad.

Jeremiah was born and raised in the south as his father was and he's been around many folk of terrible character and he's seen a lot in his 18 years of life but coming here with his younger sister was probably a mistake that he'd get killed for if his father found out.

He let out a soft sigh and wiped his beaded forehead with a single hand on a hip. He's heard the story about the previous waiter that worked here and it wasn't a pleasant one. It was the sad story of a young man by the name of Quique Montemayor possibly once a local who was attacked and viciously beaten to the point of death and that was all Jeremiah heard of it. He was 2 years older than him and it made Jeremiah fear more for his life. Unbuttoning a couple buttons in the front of his flannel top he sat down at the middle table surrounded by so many more taking just a 3 minute break before hearing the front door open half way just enough for one person to walk inside but Jeremiah didn't pay any attention jumping to his feet in a hurry.

He patted down on his curly locks of dark hair and wiped the sweat away stepping behind the counter acting like he was cleaning it all over again. All was silent besides the stranger's boots hitting the floorboards nearing closer.

Jeremiah swallowed a growing lump in his throat and looked up his blue eyes stopping in front of the man in uniform.

He was never good around men in uniform especially speaking wise; he almost had a stuttering but it was just the strength of his southern drawl that made it sound like such. The unfamiliar man walked up to the counter and leaned both arms across the newly cleansed top.

Jeremiah was shaking just by glancing at the fellow. He seemed to be a part of the Mexican Army or the federalists but whoever he was the kid couldn't stomach the feeling that was building up inside of him and ended up tripping over his own two feet falling belly first. The man took notice of the young boy and bent over the counter. "You alright Niño?" his accent was almost too robust that he couldn't understand and before Jeremiah got to his feet again the man was there before him lending out a leather gloved hand.

He was part of the army for sure and not the good one. "Fine, I'm fine!" his rusty little voice put a smile on the man's face and not a happy one; "You seem tired." The man noted and found his spot against the counter again laying both of his hands flat down on the counter.

Jeremiah didn't really get a good look at the man's face but as he now took notice he realized that the unfamiliar man had small imperfection and it was his left eye.

He scratched his freckled cheeks before grabbing a bottle of Brandy from behind the counter and slammed it down before his friend. The man jumped back a little taking a good look at the bottle then the boy who knew he wasn't supposed to serve the alcohol but did anyway since he was the only one here. "Not yet Niño" he waved his hand out in front of him standing erect. Jeremiah put the bottle back where it belonged and picked up his damp rag from the floor and started on the corner tables that he always seemed to miss since they were in the shadows of the saloon.

The man in the dark uniform came up quietly behind the young man standing a few feet from him of course with his hands against his back. "I haven't seen you before what's your name Niño?" the man asked pulling out a chair for himself sitting back looking at the young brunette boy.

Jeremiah coughed in his musty smelling hand from the rag and looked down at the higher ranked man. "J-Jeremiah s-sir!" his voice was raspy and noticeably shaky; the older man bobbed his head in acknowledgment with a little smile extending his own hand in return. "Captain Vincente De Santa!" he said to the child with a smile and now the boy could tell the man had a lazy eye but besides the eye Mr. De Santa was a pretty charming looking fellow.

The boy didn't know if he should take the man's hand or not so Vincente stood up pushed his chair back in and let out a good hardy laugh before patting the younger one's back pretty hard before leaving. "See you Niño."

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E/N: Well you got to know a tad about Jeremiah and where he came from; yes he is Jonah's son just because I wanted to! Please stay tuned for more that's coming this way!