Each morning, between the twin peaks of Hatter's Mountain, the sun lights the ochre coloured main street like a golden carpet that stretches the length of the small town named after that phenomenon. Sunrise. It's a peaceful place to live. Mostly agriculture, a few little cattle ranches, and many of the trappings of the bigger centres.

Sunrise had a mayor, a town council, a sheriff, a church, a school, a doctor, an undertaker, and a smithy, to name a few of the necessities for comfortable living. There was also a hotel, a saloon, a general store, and a barber shop. Sunrise even had its own newspaper. Best of all, it was a rail stop on the Big Great Western Railway line.

Life here was sedate, peaceful, and for the most part, law-abiding . . .

                                                      𝗦𝗼 𝗠𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗦𝗲𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲

"Dang it, Sheriff, you have to do something."

"Why? They haven't broken any laws." Sheriff Colt Treblehorn sighed inside at having to listen to yet another complaint from Mayor Edgar Bemis. It seemed the man lived for things to peeve over.

"Don't matter, they just ain't the kind of people we want in Sunrise."

"You're the mayor, Edgar, you go tell them that. I'm sure they'll take that real kindly."

"I pay your salary, Treblehorn, and I expect you to understand that." Edgar Bemis, wagged a chubby finger in the sheriff's face, his own flushing with the effort.

"The town actually pays me, Edgar - and I understand perfectly. You don't like these folks, go write a law."

"Just wait 'til re-election, Sheriff . . . just wait." The jail door slammed, rattling the big glass window beside it.

"Jer, you can come out now."

The young deputy eased back into the room, checking the window to make sure the mayor had gone. "Sorry, Colt, I thought sure you'd send me up there if I was in here."

"You can go anyway. Just see what old Eager Edgar is fussing about. Don't do anything, just check. If there's anything troubling, come back and get me."

******

Belinda Freegate greeted the deputy at the door as he entered the saloon. Her signature cobalt blue gown flowed over her body like paint, an asset she played for all it was worth. Business in the saloon was always brisk as a result, and the hostesses from the Cowpoke Lounge on the second floor, contributed their share.

"Jeremy, does your boss know you're frequenting my establishment during work?" She slipped a bare smooth arm inside his.

"Just here to see what's got our mayor all tied up, Blue."

"And here I thought you came to see me." She squeezed his arm.

"That'd be a sight more pleasurable I can tell yuh. So, where are these undesirables, as Eager Beaver describes them?"

"He must mean the three that came in while he was having his morning libation. One is upstairs," she winked, "and the other two are over there playing cards."

Jeremy let her guide him to the bar, and he leaned sideways, viewing the two men.

"They been any trouble?"

"Nope. Besides, Slant could take them both with one hand if there was."

"They're packin', Blue. Tie downs. I think Slant might need more than one hand."

"Well, they haven't done anything, so not to worry."

"Is that the other one?"

They both looked up as the skinny cowboy bounced down the steps, a grin like a canyon across his face.

"Yes. I think I heard one of them call him Splink."

"Splink. I've heard that name. It ain't one you'd easy forget." Jeremy studied the man as he joined the others at the table. There was a burst of rude laughter, and one man pulled Splink's hat down over his face.

"I know I've heard that name. I'm goin' back to see if we have any paper on him. Any trouble, Blue, you call us right away, hear?"

"Yes, Deputy Child. Right away, Deputy Child." She grinned as he left, head shaking.

******

"Don't need to look it up. Jitter Splink. He's one of Baron Landsman's boys."

"I knew that name was familiar. You think Landsman is making a move on Sunrise?" Jeremy settled on the corner of the desk, picking at a splinter on the edge.

"He collects property like some folks collect flowers. Pluck 'em. Stick 'em in a book, and press 'em flat. And leave that alone afore I have to get Fred in to fix it."

"Probably should anyway." He stood and went to the window. "Maybe our mayor might have a real concern. Think he knows who they are?"

Colt crossed his feet on top of his desk. "Doubt it, And I'll wager he don't know just how undesirable they are."

"What are we gonna do?"

"Nuthin' we can do. They haven't done anything wrong. And from what you told me, one of them already contributed to the economy."

Jeremy snorted and looked out the window. "Long as it don't turn out to be the population. He looked a few miles short of track to me."

"Just keep your eyes and ears open, don't do anything. They could be just passin' through."

"You don't believe that."

". . . No."

******

The weathered older man leaned on the corral fence rail watching, as a couple of hands wrestled a cow to the ground and laid on a brand. They unwrapped the tie rope and it scrambled to its feet, darting away to the fence, confused and scared. He spit in the dust and plopped his hat back on, turning and heading back to his ranch house.

"Hetta!" He hollered, once inside, sailing the hat across to the big chair by the fireplace, and missing. "Woman, where are you?"

"No need for all that noise, Landy."

"I told you not to call me that. I don't want to hear it again. When does a man eat around here?"

"When it's good and ready and not sooner. Now set down and shut all that racket." The woman picked up his hat and hung it on an antler by the door.

"You're gonna cross a line one day, Hetta, and I'm gonna enjoy puttin' that Bar-L brand on your fat bottom."

She handed him a large glass as he sat, and stood in front of him, hands on ample hips.

"You tried that once a long time ago - Landy - and you learned there's some things best left undone. Now drink that and behave. I'll set the table for your precious dinner."

"I don't want this. It tastes like cow--"

"Don't tell me what it tastes like. Doc said drink it, and you'll drink it."

"I don't know who you think you are," he grumbled, as she walked away saying 'blah, blah, blah', and waving a hand.

He pulled a face and swallowed a mouthful, muttering a disgusted 'ugh', when there was a loud knock on the door.

"Hetta! The door!"

"You get it, I'm busy getting your dinner, remember?"

"Jesus on a bronc! That woman . . ." He struggled up out of the chair and went to the door, yanking it open and facing his foreman, Arley Rudman. "Why are you here? You were supposed to be in Sunrise."

Arley strode past Baron straight to a drink cart, pouring a generous glass before answering.

"Your information was wrong. He wasn't there. They said he was still up in the hills at his claim, and you told me no trouble, so we came back."

"I said don't draw any attention."

"Well, that took some decidin' since we had to go through town to get to his claim."

"It took you a whole day to decide that?"

"Pretty much." The reply was arrogant, and daring. Arley did the work Baron wanted done, but he was no toady to any man. Things that needed him doing, were done his way.

Baron sat again, enviously eyeing the drink his foreman was enjoying. He took another slug of his own and grimaced.

"Tomorrow, if he isn't back, you find him and have our talk."

"He can be stubborn. How far you want to take it?"

"I want a yes answer, Arley - nothing less. That old fool has dodged me long enough."