Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies – the movie and the characters associated with it belong to Walt Disney.
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Chapter Two
Winter Wonderland
Frank's Saloon was one of the last of its kind under the Arizona sun. Frank himself was now well into his sixties but his mind and eyes were still as sharp as ever. The saloon was famous for having catered to several famous cowboys and sharpshooters in its days.
There was one now. Little Big Shot, Frank called him jokingly in that wheezy voice of his. It was a fitting nickname. The kid had proven himself a rare talent at the age of twelve when he first took aim at an empty bottle. He had seen his older brothers lazily challenging each other during a target game and wanted to try for himself. He had grabbed his father's revolver from the bedroom drawer, ran outside, steadied his arm and pulled the trigger. The glass shattered.
His father had been in an angry rage. It's dangerous to practice for the first time on your own, son, he shouted. His brothers had been in awe. Trey had been giving him some minor pointers. His fragile mother nearly had a heart attack. He's just twelve, she had reprimanded in a near faint. But it was no use. The legend had already begun.
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When he opened his eyes the next morning, he found himself immobile, hypnotized by the view outside his window. Slowly, he lifted himself into a sitting position. Well, would you look at that…
Within minutes, Alex dressed himself, even pulled on the winter coat without hesitation, and raced out of his room and down the stairs. His footsteps thudded throughout the quiet house, which meant that his brothers were not up yet. Alex spurred into the kitchen where his mother was already at the stove cooking breakfast.
"Morning, Ma." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Did you take a look outside?"
"Of course, dear. It was the first thing I saw," she said softly. "Isn't it beautiful?" The two gazed at the window in wonder.
"Yeah," he drawled. "Mind if I go out?" he asked, buttoning his coat.
"Sure dear, just put on --" she stopped and looked at him in surprise, "—your coat."
Alex grinned at the stunned look on his mother's face before pulling open the backdoor. He stepped out into a pile of white powder that came up to his ankles. He held out his right hand, palm up, as the flakes fell gracefully from the sky. They melted the instant they made contact with his warm, outstretched hand.
So this was snow.
From inside the house, Mrs. Clayborne watched her son through the window as she placed the plates on the table. It had been a long time since she had seen him smile the way he was doing right now. He had not been as lively since before the family left Arizona. She walked over to the window and prayed, prayed that that smile would stay on her precious son's face. No more fights, no more violence, no more tension.
"Hi, Ma," said Cole as he entered the kitchen. He dramatically inhaled the aroma of food. "My favorite. Pancakes?"
Mrs. Clayborne laughed. "You know it is."
Cole strolled next to his mother by the window.
"You think he'll be all right?" she asked worriedly.
Cole reassuringly put his arms around his petite mother. "He's getting used to it."
Outside, Alex stared at the wooden target that stood proudly in the distance at the outer edge of their immense backyard. It was capped with a layer of snow.
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That evening, Alex pulled out two smaller pistols for practice shooting. Each shot rang through the air and hit the center of the target. He walked across the backyard towards the target and examined his shots. The bullets were all concentrated in the center. Not a single mark scratched the outer rings. "You know, I'm getting tired of shooting at the same target," he said as he walked back to where his brothers were lounging. The snow had stopped falling, but the accumulation still remained on the ground.
"You know Ma would like it if you stopped practicing your shot," Iain said.
"I've been shooting from different angles, running and shooting – what?"
"Uh-oh, Iain. You've touched on Big Shot's nerve," Trey cautioned.
"Iain's right, though. We don't need our guns for protection anymore," Cole said. "We've put ours away."
"I'm telling you, it's not over. Scar and his gang – they're never going to stop," Alex said, frustrated. "And we can't take our chances and just sit around like everything's all right because it's not."
"Mr. James said this was the safest place in the state," said Cole.
"We've traveled across the country, Alex. Even Scar wouldn't take the chance of doing that," Trey said seriously. "Unless he was really mad about something."
Alex stayed silent. The three brothers studied him, expecting some sort of retort.
"Shit, Alex," Trey grimaced. "Tell me you didn't do something stupid."
"I didn't. The bastard challenged me to a shootout. He was the stupid one."
"Did you accept?"
"No… no, I didn't," he answered numbly. He sat down on the ground and leaned against a tree trunk. Absentmindedly, he began to spin the pair of guns around his fingers. He was deep in thought when he distractedly mumbled, "I need a moving target."
"Oh Alexander!" came a high-pitched shriek to his right. Alex snapped out of his thoughts.
"Speaking of moving targets," Alex muttered as he braced himself. "Not again," he said under his breath, slowly tilting his head around to meet Cindy McDonohay's presence. How he wished he could point his gun in her direction. Maybe that would send her running away from him.
A small figure headed towards him – a lady with strawberry blond hair carefully pinned and curled to perfection. She was wearing a pale pink dress, tailored with mass amounts of lace and ruffles. She had on some sort of coat that looked like she had an animal draped over her shoulders.
"Alexander! Alexander!" she said as she rushed towards him, picking up her skirts to avoid tripping on them.
"Yeah?" Alex drawled in annoyance.
"Alexander! Oh, you'll never believe what I heard today! I heard from Linda Kindsley who heard from Kelly Ramblain who heard from Tina Tenseltin who overheard a conversation between Robert Laughton and his fiancée, Felina Gatling…" she took a breath before she announced, "That they're not going to go through with the engagement! Do you know what that means? It means the wedding is cancelled," she squealed. "Oh isn't it just scandalous? I can't wait to tell Lise! Oh!" she exclaimed as she strung her arm through Alex's. "You must escort me over to Lise's home! I can't wait any longer to tell her!"
He ignored her babbling. "You're trespassing, you know that?" He shot her an annoyed glance when Cindy tugged at his arm insistently.
She giggled. "You are just too much, Alexander."
Alex turned to his brothers, his eyes pleading for help. Save me, he mouthed as Cindy dragged him out of the backyard. Iain and Cole just grinned at him. They were enjoying watching their little brother suffer. At least they were trying to hold their laughter in. Trey was practically on the ground, clutching his stomach in hysterics.
She managed to pull him away from the house and onto the dirt path leading to the heart of town.
"Oh dear," she said when she caught a glimpse of the gun in Alex's hand. He quickly placed them in his pockets. He may dislike her but he still had his manners. "I don't think this shooting target whatnot is very good for you. Gentlemen do not shoot. They… mingle. And of course they are very… gentleman-like," she said giggling.
"Women mingle," Alex informed her. "Men… don't."
"Oh, don't be silly! You just don't know what gentleman do. It's because you're from out west. They're barbaric out there, aren't they? Don't worry though, once we're engaged, you'll have to be a gentleman! And we'll also have to do something about that unusual hair of yours, too," she added, regarding Alex's unmanageable hair. "In fact, I bought you a gift," she said, whipping around to face him.
He noticed that her hands were behind her back.
"Close your eyes," Cindy said with a wide smile.
"No."
"Oh, please?"
"No."
"Plea--"
"No."
She gave up. "Fine." She looked up at him with her round blue eyes. He knew she thought she was being cute. "Ready? Ta-da!" She placed a bowler hat atop his head. "There, you look like a gentleman already!"
She was beaming at him.
He was going to shoot her.
Lise Honey's home was located in the center of town, whereas the Claybornes lived in the outskirts, near the forest. He knew Cindy McDonohay had purposely ordered her coachman to drop her in front of the Clayborne's home just so she could force Alex to walk her back to town. It wasn't the first time she had done so. Cindy chatted in that high pitched squeak of hers the entire way. Alex already felt the comings of a headache.
"Oh look, we're here already," she said, pouting. Clearly she wanted to spend more time with him.
"All right, g'night."
"Alexander!"
"What?"
"Gentlemen kiss their ladies on the cheek when they part ways," she told him. She pointed at her cheek expectantly.
She's kidding. Alex chuckled in disbelief. He slowly leaned in towards her with a sardonic smile. "I'm not a gentleman, Miss Mcdonohay," he whispered.
Cindy gasped and her hand fluttered to her chest. "O-oh Alexander, I-I'm not that kind of woman," she sputtered. "But if you must --"
"And you're not my broad." With that, he turned on his heels and walked away from her. He vaguely heard her say something about the word "broad" being a barbaric term as he left. He sighed. Alex was as charming and as charismatic as he could be with all the other frivolous women in town, but with Cindy McDonohay, it was an entirely different story. She really was a Virginia leech.
