#rawhidefanweek

“It weren’t our fault, Mister Favor,” Quince starts with a raspy, dry voice. “Y’see, some folks said we wasn’t allowed to stay in town since were not from here and- well, me’n’Rowdy didn’t take kindly to that. So we sort of got into a bit of a fight and-”

“And wound up in jail?” Mister Favor says with a voice like distant thunder. “And it just so happens the sheriff’s son is lying in bed with a broken ankle when he should be getting married?”

Rowdy winces again, guilt rising in his throat. He feels Quince slump down and almost joins him. They must look about as pathetic as they feel, he thinks. “We’re sorry, boss,” he offers. Depending on the severity of the incident, sometimes just admitting you’ve done wrong can make all the difference to a man like Gil Favor.

This time, though…

“You two are gonna sit here and think about what happened last night. God willing you’ll actually learn something about getting in fights for no damn reason!” The words come out loud and clear, they ring through the air like a bell being struck by a hammer and Rowdy feels his face scrunch up in pain. Quince stiffens and makes a small noise beside him.

“Yessir,” they say in unison.

Mister Favor sighs and leans on the bars, his arms crossed over his chest and his hat tipped back. “I know you didn’t mean to cause a ruckus,” he starts, “I know you was just hoping to let off a little steam, but… we can’t keep doing this. I’ll talk to the sheriff and see about getting this all straightened out. Please, just stay here and let me handle it from here, alright?”

“Yessir,” they repeat again. Rowdy sees Mister Favor nod and push himself up to leave the cells.

“Think we’ll end up on drag for a week after this?” Quince asks him with a pained moan.

Rowdy shakes his head, closes his eyes and tries to push through the hangover with sheer stubbornness. “Nah. More like we’ll be on drag for a month.”

“Kill me now, Rowdy.”