A sheriff's responsibilities.

Earlier…

Sheriff Texas’ foot anxiously bounced in place as she sat outside the office of the Marshall of Corre Town. She had gotten a telegram early in the morning, asking her to come for an important meeting. After leaving April a list of duties to perform in her absence, the sheriff got on her trusted if stubborn horse, Felicity, and rode out at first light.

As she waited, her gaze drifted to the window behind her. Outside, the town was a hive of activity.

Corre Town. The ‘Gateway to the West’ as some folk from the city call it, is the main train depot and transit hub on this side of the map. From the cities up north to the frontier towns, everything comes through this hub: Government officials, supplies, prisoners, you name it. It also functions as the largest repair yard in this region. It was the most important out here in the west.

And of course, the one in charge of the safety of the town, carried just as much weight.

“You can come in, Sheriff.”

A deep, baritone voice jolted Texas from her thoughts, and her seat a bit. Heart thumping, she got up and walked toward the door. Hand on the doorknob, she took a deep breath, turned the knob, and opened the door.

The office space was spartan. A wooden desk flanked by cabinets on each side with few framed objects on the walls with a coat rack nearby. The focus of Texas, however, was the massive figure sitting behind the desk.

Larger than her, even while sitting, was the man in charge of the protection and law of this town. Marshal Thomas Johnson – known as ‘Ironsides’ from his army days- sat behind his desk. The great dane’s dress shirt strained against his bulk while his vest jacket was unbuttoned. The only sign that showed he was older than he appeared was the greying fur near his brown muzzle and half his left ear was missing. His gaze barely rose from the document he was reading when the door opened.

“Appreciate you coming all this way, Sheriff Stanton.” His brown eyes finally looked at her as the door closed. “Ordinarily, I would have chose other means to contact you, but this was more important than normal. Sorry if this interrupted anything.”

Texas walked up to the desk and took her hat off. “Nothing too much, Marshal Johnson. Outside of a drunken brawl, things have been smooth in Gold Springs lately.”

The great dane grunted. “Considering the state of that town, that’s a rarity.”

The grip on her hat tightened at the remark but she kept a straight face, swallowing down a retort that would have come out. The movement wasn’t unnoticed as the marshal caught the movement.

“Don’t mean to diminish your efforts, Sheriff Stanton. Honestly, that town’s always been difficult, even when the mine was profitable. You’ve done well enough.” The marshal apologized.

Texas took a moment to reply, internally calming down from the critique. “Thank ya for the compliment. Now, what was the urgent message?”

Setting the paper down, Thomas reached to his left, opened one of the cabinet drawers, and pulled out a vanilla envelope before closing it.

“This came in from the main branch. A criminal group has been making waves out east.” Holding the envelope out, Texas accepted it. “Not enough to get the capital nervous but they have been put on radar.”

The sheriff raised an eyebrow as she brought the envelope close to her. “They thinkin’ they’re comin’ here?”

“It’s not concrete, federal agents believe the group’s expanding out west. Oakvale city agents got word of suspected activity of the group a week ago. They sent word to me three days later, lousy bureaucrats.” The marshal responded, muttering the last part under his breath.

Texas opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. At a cursory glance, she saw a list of crimes: Smuggling, ****, Extortion, Moonshining, Armed Robbery, Gambling Ring, Cattle Rustling, Arson, Bribery, Etc.

“Quite the resume these varmints got.” She commented.

Thomas nodded. “They’re called the ‘Red Talons’.” He said, prompting a look of confusion from Texas. “It’s the name the press gave them. Don’t ask how they thought of the name or how they even found out about the group but it’s the name federal agents have stuck to.”

“Another aspect about them is that they hire others for their work. Local criminals, foreign mercenaries, I’ve even been told some feds have been on their payroll to look the other way.”

Texas narrowed her eyes at that. A low, snarl coming from her.

“I know. It’s one of the reasons I’m calling all the sheriffs in the region here and telling them in person. The less people the information goes through, the less likely Red Talon could find out and prepare.”

Texas slid the paper back in the envelope, closed it and tucked it under her arm. “Alright, I’ll head back and get myself ready.

She turned to leave, thoughts already on informing April to be on the lookout for anything suspicious, even more so now.

“Texas.” Thomas formally called her by her first name, tone softer than before. The sheriff paused, half-turning to look at the marshal. “If Red Talon does pop up, be careful. We have no idea how big they are or who is in charge of them. Gold Springs is already a hive of criminals; the last thing we need is for them to get a foothold there.”

“You sayin’ I can’t manage this?” She challenged.

“I’m saying don’t let your pride blind you and put you in a situation that makes it worse.” The marshal replied sternly, eyes trained on the weasel. “We still don’t know what happened to your predecessor. As for that mayor of yours, I trust her as far as I can throw her. I mean it, the second anything pops about them there, contact me.”