Character Focus: Vin and Chris…. Don’t faint, there’s no sign of Ezra anywhere! I may be coming down with something…
Language warning: A few bad words
Summary - VinF&D Picture prompt challenge
Length: 398 words
He turned to his friend. "Saloon?" he asked.
The other man replied with a nod, "Saloon."
As one, they turned, one holstering his gun, the other resting his rifle over his shoulder as they strode down the dusty street. Now that the bad guys had been run off, it was time to relax with a cold, wet beer.
After several minutes of walking, Vin frowned and glanced over at his friend.
Chris clenched his jaw and ignored him. They passed yet another building.
Vin turned his head to look behind them, then scanned the buildings ahead. His frown turned to irritation.
"What?" Chris growled.
"Well, dang, Larabee," Vin drawled, "you didn’t tell me the only open saloon was clear on the other end of town."
"How the hell was I supposed to know?" Chris snarled. "I don’t live here. And I certainly didn’t know the ‘Ladies Temperance League’ was closing down the saloons in this town."
"By the time we get there, that saloon’ll probably be closed too," Vin grumbled, shifting his rifle to rest in his arms across the front of his body.
Chris’s eyes narrowed threateningly.
"Don’t hardly know if it was worth chasing those guys off if we can’t even get a beer," Vin complained.
"Why would anyone want to take over a town without whiskey anyway?"
"Shut up, Tanner."
"You’d think the townsfolk would be grateful we came to help, offer us something worth drinking for our trouble," Vin continued blithely.
Chris stopped and turned his full glare on the tracker. "Look, I don’t get it either, but here’s the damned saloon, so quit you’re bellyachin’ and let’s get a drink, okay?"
Vin shrugged and followed Chris into the building. The sign outside said ‘Alcohol served’ so at least there was hope. "Probably water down their whiskey."
"Vin," Chris growled.
Vin grinned behind Chris’s back. "Beer’s gonna be warm too."
"Tanner," came another low warning.
"Bet they don’t have anything to eat, either."
Chris turned and tried to grab Vin by the arm, but the wily tracker was already sprinting for the door, laughter trailing behind him. Larabee grinned and ran after him. He had a bottle of whiskey in his saddle bag for emergencies. They could head home, stop along the trail for the night and enjoy a drink or two… after he taught that mangy Texan a lesson or two.
Feedback is always welcome. JudyL