With That Attitude

The lights were dim over the worn bar. Drunken voices carried through the room from the one occupied table. The dented jukebox softly played country in the corner. Wondering why he kept letting them in, the bartender sat on a stool reading the paper, keeping his eye on Dean and George as they silently drank. In the weeks following Candace's bombshell, she and Dean had spoken very little. Much of the time, he walked around in a shocked stupor, wondering how much worse his life could get. He'd been at the bar every night as late as they were open. All eyes in the small room turned toward the door as it swung open to let in a short woman wearing large sunglasses. Sporting a dark hoodie and gray leggings, she couldn't be much more than five foot even. With a dark baseball cap containing darker curls, she smiled sweetly around the room, taking up a seat not far from where the boys sat at the bar. "Hi darlin'. What can I get you?" The bartender asked, walking over. "I'd love a shot of Jack and a beer. I'm not picky, whatever’s closest works." Her smile never broke as she removed her sunglasses. "You got it." She turned slightly to survey the room, taking in the table full of older gentlemen. Their conversation quickly resumed after exchanging friendly nods with the lady. She looked to Dean and asked, "Hi. Do you live here?" Dean was in the foulest of moods and wanted to ignore the question. This smiling lady was the last thing he needed. He grunted "Yes." anyway. "Oh perfect. It seems I may have some time to kill here. What's good to do around here? Do you have any suggestions?" "Nope." He wanted to end this as quickly as possible. Her smile barely faltered. "Well, thanks anyway." She tilted her head back and the shot slipped down her throat. "We have a lot of nice outdoor activities, ma'am. The season is just about over, but there's still some things. We have guided hiking tours in the lower mountains and I think the horse riding stable is still running." The bartender piped in. "There's also..." his voice trailed off as the doors swung open wide again. Three large gentlemen walked in, the Saunders brothers, surrounding Dean and his brother. "I don't want any trouble in here, boys." The oldest and shortest, Nate, responded so loud everyone could hear him. "Oh there won't be any trouble in here, Pops. This fool has messed with the wrong wife this time and I'm fixing to teach him a good lesson. On your feet, boy, let's take this outside!" Dean sat very still, saying nothing. "Don't you ignore me! My wife goes around bragging to all her friends about you." "I wouldn't touch your wife with a ten foot pole, Saunders. But then, she probably knows that and is just trying to make you jealous." Dean had to fight back the smile that almost crept onto his face. "Neglecting the little lady, are we?" "Why, you son of a-!" "Hey! I said I don't want no trouble here!" Ray the bartender slammed a fist down, near the end of his patience. As the Saunders brothers closed their distance around Dean, Ray reached for the phone. "If you don't take this elsewhere, I'm calling Sheriff Thomas!" The last of his sentence was drowned out as a flurry of activity erupted. Dean stood up, attempting to break through the barricade the brothers made around him. The one closest to George shoved him down when he attempted to stand with his brother. As George slid across the floor, the two younger Saunders each grabbed one of Dean's arms, dragging him through the doors. Nate pulled up the rear. Ray paused with the phone, but closed it with a sigh as George went flying out the door. What next with those kids? He let out a gasp when he glanced toward the door again. The woman was pulling herself up from the floor and winced as she tried to put all her weight down on her right leg. "Oh ma'am, I am so sorry! Those boys are... I didn't even see... Is there anything I can do, ma'am?" Ray offered a hand to help steady her. She chuckled, leaning herself back onto the stool. "Quite the locals you have here. I was told this was a quiet, sleepy town. I didn't expect to get front row seats to a barroom brawl! Just another shot would be nice. My hotel isn't far." She accepted the glass and noticed his concerned look, so added, "Oh I'm fine, really. I appreciate the concern, but I'm tougher than I look." Her smile widened and he couldn't help but return it. "We really do have a quiet place here, miss, but that boy has been asking for trouble for a long time." She had thought he meant the very large, angry man with the two brothers, until the bartender continued. "He's had it rough, sure, but he doesn't need to keep pissing everyone off, running around with others' wives. I think he likes the punishment, but you'd think he gets enough of that from his wife. Ah, but I don't mean to go boring you with small town drama. Are you sure you're alright?" "Oh very much so, thanks. I actually would like to hear more about that troubled man though." He had never seen anyone smile so much.