Chapter 7

In the town of Iowa the priest entered the sheriff office. It was late night and the man waited all day for the cover of the shadows over his trip to said office. 

He could only hope that the deputy was in a state to reason with... 

The tall man looked around. His blue eyes and dark-blond short slicked back hair was shining in the one stray ray of moonlight. He rubbed his also blond short beard with a loud sigh looking around as he could. "Damn that deputy!" he mumbled kicking one of the empty tin cans against the wall that was used as an astray.

A surprised yell and some trashing sounds were the reply to that. Sid just woke up from his drunken slumber in one of the storage closets. 

"Hey!! Who goes there! I am in charge here, fucker! Just wait till I get out…" his drunken yells came as judging by the sounds, Sid was trying to stand up pulling every shelf's content onto himself.

"It's just me, Chris," the priest said once the shadow figure of the deputy appeared in the doorway of the mostly dark office. When he saw that Sid wasn't going to shoot a hole into him, he walked to the gas lamp on the table and lit it, giving the room some ambient light.

Once he was sure that no one was in the cells – not that the whole town wouldn't know if that was the case – he pulled out an old wooden chair and sat down, eying the deputy. "Nothing broken?" he asked, meaning that Sid got probably hit with some things from the shelves.

"Chris..." Sid stood with just only a little bit of being dizzy and stared at the priest shocked. "No, no. I don't think so... What brought you here?" he asked sitting down at his desk and almost fell on his ass again.

With another sigh and rubbing his forehead, the reverend glimpsed at the other man. "I'm worried about the town and the boiling emotions of the towns’ people now that the new Sheriff is probably dead. More and more they want revenge and that's obviously not good for the soul. I... understand their feelings about the natives, but... if we can, we should come up with something to calm them down. We don't need them to gather and go after them," he said, hoping that the drunk-ish deputy would actually comprehend what he was saying. Although since they were kinda friends, he knew that often Sid was more sober than he looked like.

"And as you could guess... there are certain people in town who'd want to exploit and fuel that rage even more..."

"I know, Chris. And maybe it's the right time to get ya into things. You see… The natives want peace too. And for years we try to get to the root of the fake attacks at both sides," Sid said low and rather sober-sounding. Aiming his half-whispered words at the Priest's blue eyes, underlining the seriousness in them. 

"And another thing..." he leaned closer to the other as if what he was about to say was even more of a secret than the rest. "The sheriff is all well and the head hunter is away to get proof of a conspiracy pulling the strings from behind."

Chris was glad that Sid sounded like that then his eyes widened a bit from the new information that was shared with him. "Guess we all know who are behind the fake attacks, but it's good if the hunter will be able to find proof of them. I have a feeling that then the previous sheriff's death wasn't a coincidence either..." he said quietly too. "It is joyful news though that our new sheriff is still alive. But... where is he then? And why isn't he coming back?" he frowned.

"It's all about the land. If Indians and farmers kill off and scare away each other then... people at high places with money," Sid said with a slow wink "can get the land easily. He is with the Iowans. Mick told me he is looked after and will return after Mick does. It seems this clumsy young man has more luck already than our previous sheriff," Sid hummed and nodded more to himself. "He is taken care of by the Chief and his Shaman son. They’re with us in this investigation. But you have to keep your lips sealed, Chris!"

"I guess it makes sense... about taking over the lands on a cheaper price or with violence," Chris sighed, "Good Lord, this is going to be even more chaotic than I thought," he crossed himself.

"A secret alliance between white men and Indians in hope of peace... Well, that's something I didn't see coming. I'm probably a bad priest for not having any objections against that," he chuckled a bit dryly. "I guess I should somehow alert the people and throw passages of the Bible at you. But I won't. I'd like to have peace too and weed out the greed and violence that's been corrupting the minds of our people... So... your secret is safe with me."

"I know you, Chris Fehn! You're a good man! Don't ruin it with passages of the Bible," Sid chuckled and put a bottle of whiskey on the table. 

"The hands of these people from higher grounds are slowly reaching to everything here. There are many fake attacks towards the Indians too. And the Chief, as you know, had a white woman as his wife and has a half-breed son. Those bad people want to keep up the war and fuel it more between the two kinds of people living here. And the Ioways had enough of that too. Now let's drink. And keep your eyes open, Chris. Maybe getting the folks in a more peaceful and accepting mood would do good on the long run," Sid said pouring two glasses full and meaning the Sunday preaching should be about bringing a new mindset for the town people.

***

"You tell him!" Fieldy grunted, scratching his beard nervously.

"Nope. You tell him. I did last time too. Now it's your turn," he protested, looking just as nervous if not scared as they were standing close to Jon's office door.

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

"Nooo! You always win in that shit. It's your turn!"

"Urgh... Fine! Let's get over with it then. I just hope he won't play with his gun like last time. Good thing I'm so short. That shot still ruined my hat..." he huffed and adjusted his black slightly dusty one before knocking on the door.

The Mayor was waiting rather impatiently for his men to report. He could get better bandits to guard him and do his dirty work. But these two were loyal enough, and feared him enough to be kept. 

"Come already!" Jonathan barked at the knocking sound, shining one of his throwing knives.

With swallowing hard the two bandits looked at each other and nodded. Fieldy led the way into the impressive and well-known office.

"Mr. Davis," he tipped his hat as a greeting. They never dared to call him anything else in his presence, because he demanded respect (and being feared). He was a sick fuck for sure. With an even worse reputation in certain circles. 

Not in the public eye of course. There the Mayor was a respected and important wealthy man, who did everything to help Iowa prosper. He never dirtied his own hands. That's what his men were there for. He was also always careful not to be directly connected to anything shady. Many have tried to find proof against him – and instead most of the time they'd paid with their lives.

Raising a brow, Davis put the oily cloth down and shifted in his seat. "Well... Speak up already!" he said with his slight lisping, making it even more threatening while he played with the knife in his hand.

"Errr... The thing is that we... couldn't make that much progress with the plan of luring Thomson into a trap..." Fieldy started when he felt Munky lightly poke his elbow to start talking. He could already feel the thick sweat drops of his nervousness rolling down on his temples as his eyes were glued to the dagger, ready to jump out of its way in any second now.

"The thing is that like before, he had vanished. No one has seen him and we couldn't track him down either. He's very good," he grumbled.

"No one has seen him? Are you sure?" Davis asked on a very low dangerous tone looking at the two shaking men like a shark at his prey.

"W-we are sure, Mr. Davis," Fieldy muttered then swallowed hard. "It... it seems he'd left Iowa for some reason."

"Probably a new head hunting job," Munky chimed in, trying not just to help out the other bandit a bit but to keep their boss from working himself up.

"Yes! It must be a new job. He sometimes disappears like that, sir," Fieldy hurried to reassure that idea for an explanation. "We can kill him once he gets back. He always does..."

"And we know to whom..." Munky added, getting a 'not so sure it was a good idea to bring the Madame up' look from Fieldy.

"Hmm. You seem to know everything, I see..." Davis shifted in his seat. "But it appears that someone else saw Thomson getting up on a stage coach towards the capitol. So... I'll tell you what you can do to be smarter," the mayor rolled the knife between his heavily ringed fingers as he spoke low and slow. Warningly slow.... 

"You two go ahead and wait for the carriage coming back and kill everyone on it, including the horses and burn it all to ashes. Got it, wise guys?" he growled throwing the blade across the room right between the two bandits, making it end up in the wood of the door.

Shitshitshit! That's what the other two men thought. As usual, their boss was more informed than them. It was a wonder they were still alive. Because frankly, that knife could've killed one of them if the mayor wanted that. Munky and Fieldy were the only two who have been working this long for Mr. Davis. Usually his men didn't last more than months or maybe a year. They've been around him for five years now. But they didn't know if it was lucky or unlucky for them.

"Yes, Mr. Davis. We will do that. We're sorry, sir," Fieldy said quickly as both of them started backing out of the room – without turning their backs on the man.

***

"Poor Maggie…" Madame Stacy sighed watching the not so pretty sight of the once salon girl's clearly choked and badly beaten body on top of the garbage dump. "I bet that fucking low scum owner of this place know nothing about this. I had enough," the Madame looked at the other shocked and frightened girls. She has to keep them safe. "I call Sid, Pam, call for Reverent Chris too. We have to make steps about this. The first man of this town went too far now with crossing me…"

"Yes, Madame," the curly blond girl answered and looked at the lifeless corpse of their friend one last time, wiping her eye with a napkin before hurrying towards the church.

It was an early morning and the rising sun didn't hide any ugly details of the crime they had discovered. Madam Stacy was furious. She was going to have a word or two with Head about this. But first Sid.

The deputy just stumbled towards the salon in hope of some free morning drinks. After all, right now he was the law in the dusty town of Iowa. And also it was his undercover duty to keep the lines of the secret alliance together and gather information. 

Just turning on the corner, he bumped into the salon girls and the body of poor Maggie. "Oi... That's not good…" that was all he could mumble tipping his hat at the ladies.

Turning a bit towards the arriving deputy, the Madam's brown eyes narrowed with a displeased and quite pissed off expression on her otherwise very pretty face. "It's far from good, yes, Deputy," she huffed and put her hands on her red corset by her waist.

"What do you and the new Sheriff plan to do about this? It's an outrageous crime. And if anyone dares to come with some degrading comments about her or our occupation, I'll personally scratch their eyes out. She was a nice girl, who didn't deserve this. Where is Sheriff Root?"

"No doubtin' any of that Miss Stace," Sid raised his open hands in a backing up manner. "I'll see to it that she gets the respect deserved," he added and stepped next to the Madame, eyeing the other girls. "Must talk with you privately, Miss. About 'those' businesses..."

"Good..." she nodded with a determined look that promised Sid some not so nice treatment in case he failed to live up to that promise. The Madame was in her position for a reason. She could be very firm-handed and dangerous if her hand was forced.

"Go, girls. Mary, go fetch the Undertaker too. We'll sadly need his services. Here," she gave her some money from her small money sack.

"Yes, Madame," the girl nodded and hurried off, the others going back to the saloon holding on to each other.

"We're alone now, Deputy," she stepped closer to Sid and lowered her voice. "What do you have for me? I hope I don't have to tell you who's my number one suspect about Maggie, do I?"

"Course not, Miss! We are still working on pulling something on him we can solidly prove. But ‘bout the Sheriff… Those guards of yo’ know who,'" Sid said low, even looking around just to make sure no one accidentally hears him "set a trap for him. Don't worry, the Ioways are taking care of him for now. The' Bear' has told me Jim decided to stay there till he's back from the big town with information. 'bout him, though..." Sid grimaced rubbing the back of his neck. "The carriage he was supposed to arrive on was attacked and blown up. No news, but I have a feeling he’s okay, Miss Stace.." Sid looked sadly at the Lady. The Deputy knew well the cat and mouse game the Madame and Mick the Bear had on for a very long time. But he also truly believed that Mick was alright and his infamous sixth sense helped him to not be on that carriage…

The Madame was listening intently and her real feelings showed on her flawless face only when Sid mentioned how the stage coach Mick was supposed to be on was blown up.

"All this tells me that our shifty... 'friends' can feel that you and Mick are on to something that could bring them down..." she mused quietly. "Let me know when you hear something about Mick. And maybe it's time for the new Sheriff to return. We need him to investigate Maggie's case too. And I believe just his presence in town might be good. Especially that he'd 'come back from the dead'. I see why it'd be good for him to wait until Mick's return. But..." she frowned lightly as if not wanting to think at all about Mick's possible death "there's no guarantee that he'll ever return. We need our Sheriff, Deputy. I want justice for Maggie," she added.

"Right, Miss Stace," Sid nodded in agreement. "Will fetch the Sheriff right away. Oh… There comes the Rev," he looked behind the Madame's back, seeing the Reverend approaching. 

Chris had a frown resting on his freshly awaken face. Others would say he was a grumpy one in the mornings. But in his position it was rare anyone could notice that while he woke up all alone. The "hating the world" expression was very alien on the otherwise kind and patient priest's face as he stopped and nodded with a raspy "Morning to all. I guess this is a step we cannot go past," he added in a cryptic way, looking the other two in the eye one by one. "Poor girl. I will see to it that she gets a proper ceremony," he added looking at the bloody dead girl and sighed long and deep. He was in much need of some coffee and maybe even a cigarette too…

Nodding to Sid's words with a more satisfied expression, Stacy turned around to watch the Reverend walk to them. "Indeed this goes over the line more than ever before," the Madame said and sent a grateful look to the Reverend. "Thank you very much. Maggie was a nice girl. She'll deserve that. I'll pay for the costs, Reverend," she said, still feeling responsible and also sad for not being able to protect one of the girls in her care.

After those words she noticed Mary coming back with the Undertaker. He was a short yet muscular bald man with piercing dark eyes and a strange presence. Not many liked to communicate with Mr. Keenan, who was usually just called "The Undertaker" after his profession. The dark slightly dusty suit, top hat and walking stick didn't help on his appearance either.

"What a busy morning," he murmured on a soft deep voice as he tipped his hat towards the gathered people, but his small black eyes were already on the corpse. "Such a waste. But I'll make sure she'll look pretty once again on the satin... I'm thinking of red..." he murmured more to himself, taking a few steps towards the dead girl. "Let me know when you finished investigating, Deputy..." he said already taking out a little note book and a pencil to start writing up the measurements for the coffin.

***

Back in the Indian village the young shaman got into the routine of having a pair with him. The past days got them closer with the handsome sheriff. It felt to Corey as if they knew each other from many lives before. 

Jim could be silly and clumsy, yes. But among them and next to Corey it seemed that he found his more collected side. 

It was in the early morning. Coyote already did his usual duties and let his pair soundly snore some more on their bed. He was a white man after all...

Not much later said tall man woke up to the smell of coffee. Stretching out his long body under the soft animal skin cover, he moaned satisfied. It's been a while that he had such good night sleeps. It seemed that tiring each other out with his new pair and learning about this culture helped a lot on that.

Smiling he sat up and brushed out his long and a bit messy blondish brown hair from his face. He spotted Corey by the small fire in the hut's middle, the smoke curling towards the hole above. He was brewing their morning coffee and preparing breakfast for them. The domestic scene made Jim's heart beat a bit faster and that certain warm feeling spread in his chest.

It's been like this in the last few days and he was getting used to it so easily. He never had such simple yet intimate moments with any of his previous male lovers since they usually had to hide or were married and just hooked up for sex. With Corey everything was completely different... And Jim had to admit that he loved this and didn't really want to leave any of this behind. He felt... whole on the small shaman's side.

Corey smiled at Jim and poured some coffee for him, sitting next to his man and greeted him with a loving nuzzle of their faces. "Morning, Jim. You feel good? Been getting signs that changes are coming…" he said looking into the hazel eyes searching them.

The tall man took the mug of coffee with a grateful little grunt and nuzzled his stubbly face back against his mate's. "Morning. I feel fantastic, to be honest. I don't want anything to change this. I love being here with you," he murmured on his deeper morning voice and even pecked the soft lips of the redhead after taking a sip from his coffee.

"Do you feel what kind of changes are on their way?" he asked, putting a long arm around his shaman so he could nuzzle to his warm side if he wanted.

Corey leaned his head on Jim's shoulder and did nuzzle him. "We have to be apart. Then learn new things," he mumbled just enjoying the closeness of his pair while it lasted. 

Just when he felt Jim about to react to his prophecy V-man called for the shaman, saying Sid was waiting for them both at the Chief's hut. 

"It begins. Let's not make them wait," he sighed and pulled back looking up at Jim with a small smile. "It will be alright. Not all changes are bad," he added and kissed the full lips.

Jim's smile faded a bit hearing about the prophecy of his pair. A new kind of heaviness started weighing down his chest. Now it was not because of his duties as the Sheriff. It was about leaving Corey behind. Just when he finally found his pair. He thought it was unfair as they had so little time together – for now at least. But he also knew that Corey was right. Not all changes were bad.

With a nod he stole another – this time deeper kiss with all kinds of promises Jim just hoped he could keep – then quickly finished his coffee before following his short man to the Chief's hut where they were expected. Jim was kinda curious by then why Sid was there.

The Chief had a serious look on his face as they entered. Sid was already sitting beside the fire and smiled wide seeing the young sheriff. 

"Mr. Jim Sheriff! Good to see you all alive and things. I've heard ya not all lonely no more," he chuckled and looked apologetic at the shaman. 

"Sheriff, you are needed back in your town. Sidney here brought news about murder and about an attack against the coach carriage. And we have no news about Mick’s whereabouts," Shawn Chief added while the pair sat down. The worry was clear in his blue eyes over the headhunter, but didn’t say anything more about it.

To Sid's comment Jim's cheeks flushed a bit and he glimpsed at Corey before refocusing on the sitting man. That's when his face got more serious. Corey was right. There were changes in the works, indeed. But hearing that he has to go back so much sooner than planned made his heart sink, because it would mean leaving his new-found pair behind... In such a fragile state of their... relationship.

But at the same time the strong calling for his profession, to do his duties arose in him too. This turmoil could be seen on his face as he rubbed his stubbly jaw. "I see. These are dark and unfortunate news... But..." he glimpsed at Corey again before facing the others "I won't run away from these duties. I know I have to return to Iowa... to keep the peace and investigate these cases."

To the little desperate glimpse with a little blush Corey smiled reassuringly at Jim. All the expressions didn't get past the Chief either. 

"Do not worry, Jim. Coyote can join you in the town in two moons. I sent our hunters to the stage coach attack's place to investigate too. Coyote can bring what we found out and can stay there to help until the next full moon. I believe that is two weeks in your calendars. That will be the best," Shawn spoke lost in his thoughts.

Needless to say, Jim blushed even more from both Corey's look and the chief's words. Apparently his feelings about the small red shaman were an open book to all the present parties.

Thinking through Chief Shawn's words Jim finally nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate."

***

Jim expected the ride back to Iowa to be long and dusty, but it was longer and dustier than he'd like. Especially with his head so full of leaving his new found love behind. Even if he knew Corey would join him in town soon.

Well, that in itself was something that made him anxious and worried. How was Corey going to blend in with his Native appearance and behavior? Will Jim have to hide him in the small upstairs room? How was he supposed to help him like that? And what if someone recognized Corey? Would they demand the redhead's blood to crimes he didn't commit? And how should Jim act if they did? He was the man of law in town after all... Fuck, this was getting even more complicated than he thought it would be.

No wonder he wanted to stay in the shaman's hut and simply learn from him or keep teaching him how to love. Those were much easier than what the near future was going to bring. Giving Jim anxiety and more insecurity. At the tribe he felt quite self-confident and less clumsy but the farther they got from the tribe, the more he could feel those returning. He felt incomplete and clueless again. Not so good qualities in a person who was expected to keep peace and the law among citizens...

The deputy was humming a melody to himself on the well-known ride back to the town. He also kept glancing at the tall man till he couldn't stand it anymore. 

"I give a penny for them thoughts Mr. Jim Sheriff. Don't be worried. The Chief and the others know what they're doing and you'd be surprised about how good they actually are in such things," he flashed a smile at the Sheriff even to try to calm him. 

"We make it as if Coyote just visits and stays at the office to help investigate. He, the Shaman knows how such love must be kept hidden among whites. He's a wise man, like his father. Ya worry 'bout them all things, Sheriff?"

"Of course I worry about these things. I'm... I'm not an experienced officer. Especially not an experienced Sheriff. I know that all beginnings are hard, but... yeah. I have my doubts. How will the towns' people take my 'return from the dead'? And how things will be with Corey around...? It's just... all a mess," he sighed as he patted Prince's thick neck – more to reassure himself than the horse who knew the way and was calm as fuck. Like usual.

"Ahhh don't worry. Have all prepared. Don't be afraid till you see Sidney," the deputy chuckled and straightened a bit proud. 

"The story is not even a big lie. Ya got attacked and friendly Indians healed you. Many of the town people have old friends among them Ioways. Despite the stuff the Mayor spread and try to project, people know not all natives are like that. In truth none are like that… Me and the Madame and Corey will help in the investigation. Things will form. And we're almost home now. Look," he pointed at the appearing silhouettes of the buildings in the cloud of dust.

Sid's words indeed helped calming Jim somewhat. With a grateful look he glimpsed at the other man. "Thank you. Your support means a lot. I think I'd be lost without you," he admitted with a shy smile. But he felt he had to express his feelings. And it wasn't a lie. He indeed felt grateful for all the help his Deputy has been giving him in an unknown territory and politics.

"Home, sweet home, huh..." he sighed with his eyes fixed on the horizon. To be honest, Jim was reluctant to return after his days at the tribe – but more importantly in the arms of that amazing small shaman who became his pair. The more distance they put between them and Corey, the more Jim felt that he belonged on the side of the redhead. And he was already missing him. But soon... soon he'll join him in Iowa. And they'll go from there...

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