Aftermath

THUD

The massive weight of Rusty’s sledgehammer came crashing down atop the bovine’s head. Wincing hard at the impact, Rory watched as a large crack appeared on the weapon’s face. For a tense moment, no one moved or breathed. It ended when the musk ox began to slowly tilt back, further, and further, until finally…

THUD!

…The large thief toppled to the ground, landing on his back with an even greater ****, a small dust cloud kicking up. Tentatively, the fox moved forward until he stood over the fallen ox. Crouching down and ignoring the natural smell, Rory snapped his fingers across Rusty’s face to no reaction. Glancing down, he did see the rise and fall of their chest.

“At least da big guy is still breathin’, gonna have a helluva headache.” He spoke. “Now, how’s yer friend doin’?”

Looking up, he saw the fading stink cloud but saw nothing. Turning his head, he looked around but saw no sign of the cat bomber. However, he did spy a small trail of coins that lead towards the outskirts.

No honor among thieves, eh. Rory shook his head as he looked down at the remaining bandit. “Sorry lad, looks like yer partner decided on cuttin’ losses. Shifty fellas like him talk big, act dangerous but run when da fates turn.”

Standing up, the fox placed his cane on his shoulder. “Gettin’ lifted wasn’t in da cards for ye but could be worse. Ye might be goin’ back and facin’ an upset boss.”

A loud snore was the only response from Rusty.

Shrugging his shoulders, the Irishman turned and made his over to the deputy. By this point, April’s upper half had fully reformed but her legs were still a flattened mess. She looked up to see Rory approaching her.

“Ye be alright, Ms. Briggs?” he asked with concern.

The vixen just stared at him, countless thoughts going through her head. Nothing that Mr. Gilligan had done was normal. His movements, his actions, the way he carried himself without a hint of fear. Her mind then went back to yesterday, the explanation she and Texas were given now seemed more than just embellishment.

There was something very different about him.

“Ms. Briggs?”

“Ah’m…fine, Rory.” She finally answered, looking into his eyes.

Who really are you?

[~]

It was a blur for the deputy. Being a gentleman, Rory had picked her up in his arms and, rather embarrassingly, carried her back to Silver Spurs without a fuss. Her shout had Frank opening the doors and ushering them inside. Once she was settled, she asked the two and any who offered to head back to the bank to check and to secure the lone bandit that was left.

Now, she was sitting impatiently in a chair, lower half reformed and legs moving in place as she wanted to get moving.

“P-P-Please, hold still Ms. Briggs. I-I-I can’t finish if you keep moving.” A high, stuttering voice spoke to her right.

Turning her head, the deputy looked down to see an almost comical sight. Standing atop a stool, thick glasses sliding down their muzzle and carefully wrapping bandages around her arm was Doctor Silas Irons, Doctor Irons, or just ‘Doc’. A corgi and Gold Springs resident physician.

“Sorry, Doc. Ah just get antsy not knowin’ what was happenin’ to Sheriff Texas. If what that tomcat Damien said was true, ah gotta get to Texas! Who knows wha-OW!” April yelped.

“S-S-Sorry!”

Doc accidentally tied the bandages too tightly and quickly redressed them.

“It’s alright, Doc. My fault for moving.” She muttered, ears folding down.

“I-I-I understand you are upset and want to help the sheriff. B-B-But you can’t help anyone if you’re injured.” He said meekly.

April sighed and slumped back in her seat, letting Doc finish his work. Moments later, Rory and Frank walked back into the saloon.

“I’m askin’ ye Frank: How does one deal with da potent aromas livin’ in dis town? Not accusin’ but I’m shocked I can still smell anythin’!” The fox exclaimed.

The large moose gave a sympathetic chuckle. “Ah here ya. I thought my nose would burn off the first week. My advice, scented candles. They help sometimes.” He then lightly slapped Rory’s back, causing the fox to stumble a bit. “Heh, besides, the guy was nothin’ compared to some folk Texas and April have handled. See if your nose has feeling after meetin’ them.”

“I can’t wait.” The Irish fox sarcastically said. Looking ahead, a bright smile came upon his face. “Speakin’ of da law, how’s our fine deputy doin’?”

“Ah’m fine. Doc was just finishin’ up.” April said, gesturing to her arm. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nothin’ of da sort. We checked da bank and found da owner and his assistant locked upstairs. Da lass was rattled but fine, da banker…never seen a man with such a dead-eyed stare.” He explained.

“That’s Archibald for you. The number of robberies we’ve had, he’s just gotten use to it all. They did a quick check, nothin’ major was missin’, but some of the money was stolen.”

April sighed as she closed her eyes for a moment. Not terrible but not what she wanted to hear either. Opening them, she asked her next question. “What about the bandits?”

“No sign of da cat. Ol’Rusty was still out. Took five of us movin' da big lug and gettin' him in da jail!” Rory said.

“And getting him in the cell was a hassle of its own.” Frank added, rolling his shoulder. “Dead-weight the whole trek. Even ah struggled to carry my portion of him.”

“Thanks for the help.” April earnestly said. Doc finished dressing the deputy’s arm and stepped down from the stool. Glancing at the bandaged limb, she started standing up. “Now, ah need to get movin’.”

A firm hand stopped her ascent.

“And where, do ye think, ye be goin’?” Rory calmly spoke.

The deputy narrowed her eyes. “Ah’ve got to warn Texas. If that varmint was speakin’ the truth, she might be in trouble or worse! Ah need to get to her now!”

“Whoa there, April! You ain’t fully healed.” The moose protested. “You just finished re-forming yourself, your arm’s banged up meaning you can’t ride a horse properly. You need to rest!”

“Ah’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” She countered; lips pulled back into a snarl.

“I-I-I concur with Franklin. Y-Y-You need proper time to heal. M-M-Minor it may be, any activity might cause it to spread.”

“Ah said ah’m fine!” The deputy shouted this time, making another go of standing up. But again, an unnatural **** kept her seated.

“April.”

She didn’t want to look, she knew she shouldn’t look. But the tone, and the fact he said her first name. Glancing up, those same emerald eyes were looking at her with concern.

“I know ye be worried about da sheriff. I know ye be itchin’ of tearin' outta here like a hellhound. I understand but ask yerself: Ye think ye be able of findin’ her and helpin’ when ye’re still hurt?”

April kept her scowl, body still tensed up. Yet, she hadn’t attempted to get up again, not that she could. The Irish fox’s hand may have been made of stone with the amount of **** behind it.

“Have faith, Ms. Briggs. If da stories be true, then da sheriff ain’t about lettin’ random thugs get da drop on her. Shoot, as far as we know, she be on her way back on da train right now!”