Page 3 of Scarlett

Chapter Two

Laurel, Montana

Emmett Jones stalkedinto the jailhouse to find Sheriff Colton Blake standing next to the stove with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Blake, where is the son of a bitch?”

“I’m going to assume you’re not talking about old man Willy.” Sheriff Blake motioned to the corner behind him.

Emmett didn’t find the humor in the statement, not at the moment. Although the old man, who snored loudly in the corner with his back to the wall and head hanging sideways, was a bit of a comical sight. Especially after noting he’d urinated on himself.

“You know who I’m here after.”

“You’re too angry right now. I’m not going to let you do anything stupid,” Blake said, moving to block the doorway to where the jail cells were. “I suggest you go across the street, have a drink, and calm down.”

He snorted. “That bastard doesn’t deserve your protection. Let me in with him for just a few minutes.”

The sheriff was just as tall as he, wide shouldered and stocky. They were evenly matched, however Emmett had the advantage of rage.

Nevertheless, he was smart enough to know that unless Blake opened the cell, he could not reach the idiot locked in it.

“I’ve held him here since last night. Other than that, there’s not much else I can do.”

“There should be,” Emmett gritted out. “He should be whipped and dragged behind a horse.”

A throat clearing came from the cell as the man must have heard him. Emmett caught sight of the man’s rounded eyes watching them. He narrowed his and growled.

“Come on.” Blake half dragged him outside. “I agree with you, he deserves to be beaten worse than what he did to his wife. Unfortunately, it’s the way things are. The woman will probably go back home once she recovers. They’ve got children together.”

Emmett let his shoulders fall and snorted. “Said she might go home to Virginia and take the children.” He ran his hand through his too long hair. “Sometimes I don’t know why I do this.”

As town doctor for almost a year after taking over his brother Evan’s clinic, Emmett was still learning the nuances of the townspeople.

Although he’d lived there a few years before moving to Billings, he’d been gone almost as long. Truth be told, things were probably worse in Billings, however being that Laurel was so much smaller, he knew the people and everything felt more personal there.

Blake shook his head. “Your brother always said the same thing. He came here a couple times, just like you now, bent on beating someone for what they’d done to a wife or child. Each time I agreed with him.”

“The woman won’t be able to use her left arm properly again. She’s already got a limp from an old break.” Emmett spoke without expecting a response. Instead it helped just to get it out.

Just then two men tumbled out of the saloon, fists flying. One rolled over the other as they threw punches and dust floated up around them.

“Aren’t you going to break it up?” Emmett asked Blake, who watched intently but didn’t move.

One of the men stood up only to fall when the other tackled him back to the ground.

“Nope, not right away,” Blake replied. “Once they get a bit tired out, it will be easier to get them to cooperate.”

Emmett had to chuckle when the men began to slow down, barely able to lift a hand to strike out.

Out of nowhere a woman rushed to a trough with a bucket. She filled it, then neared the men and tossed the entire contents over the fighters. “Get your self back home Jeffrey!” she screamed, pointing down the street.

“Hmm,” Blake said. “Now that’s the best kind of punishment. An angry wife with a bucket of cold water.”

Jeffrey stood, blood trickling from his nose. “What are you doing here Earlene? This is man business.”

Earlene yanked him forward by the torn shirt. “Making sure you don’t go and drink away all our money.”

A meek Jeffrey followed his wife away while the man on the ground looked around as if expecting his wife to appear as well.