Fish in a Barrel

Description: James Cayden was a can shootin', barrel kickin', and tumble weed stomping kind of guy. He was sheriff of the old town called West Whisky. This chiseled fellow got all the broads, except for one; Miss Cameron Devilin. This blond lockin', big breasted, leg kickin' broad thought she was too good for Cayden. After all, she is the mayor's daughter. Cayden and his stalker doesn't-understand-the-phrase-I-work-alone sidekick, Ramsy Wild, watch over the town waiting for some real time crime. And just when he was very close to getting Devilin out of her britches, a look a like to Cayden, who has been mistaken for his evil twin, comes to town. His name, Dante Maxum, rings through Devilin's ears; and the mayor's. Will Cayden be able to fight Maxum and regain his title?

Chapter One

The sun rises over the sandy hill-slash-mountain, or hilltain, in the distance. At the bottom of this hilltain was the only tree in town. This tree was named, lonely tree. And straight on from that tree is a dirt road, cutting straight through the town of West Whisky. The sun slowly lights up the dirt road and the buildings, more like shacks, that are closest to the only tree. Old man Willard, who happens to be pretty young with lots of money, steps out of his tailor-slash-endless-variety-of-cowboy-hats store and puts the "open" sign on the rocking chair on the front stoop. Then, across the street, Madame Vixen flings open her door and throws Wild out of the house. Wild stumbles up to Cayden, who is leaning every so seductively against the lonely tree. “Howdy, James!” Wild greets, putting on his almost-as-cool-as-Cayden’s cowboy hat.

“My name is Cayden.” Cayden corrected, hiding his face under the shadow of his cowboy hat.

“No it ain’t! Your first name is James, my friend.”

“You ain’t my friend. And the only people who can call me ‘James’ are the gals screaming it.”

“Not even your mum?”

“I don’t got a mum.”

“But you gotta have a mum! Everyone does.”

“Skit, Ramsy.”

“Well you say my first name!”

“That’s ‘cus you ain’t got respect from me.”

“But I’m your sidekick! Your partner in justice!”

“I work this town alone. Now skit.”

The sun has now come up from behind the hilltain and filled half the town with light. Cayden slowly lifted his head, revealing a straw of wheat in his mouth.

“Whatcha’ waitin’ fer?” Wild asks, staying next to Cayden despite Cayden’s order to leave.

“See the mayor’s house down this here road?” Cayden points with his wheat.

“Yeah.”

“Well every mornin’, when the sun hits the front stoop the mayor steps out of the door, breaths in the sun, and then goes to the Sheriff’s office to do paper work. Then out comes Devilin, with her blond hair in a bun. She steps to the back of the house to work in the garden.”

“Devilin? Boy, you must respect her!”

“She’s a woman, not a Madame Vixen.”

The sun crept past the saloon, the market, and the Sherriff’s office and makes its way to the front stoop of the mayor’s house. And sure enough, out comes the mayor.

Cayden chuckles to himself. “Like clockwork.” He tosses his wheat to the ground and stomps on it. He walks with a swing in his step, almost like he has a limp in each leg, to the mayor’s house. The sun burns the back of his neck. Getting hot, he unbuttons the top part of his collared shirt; a gift from old man Willard. He strides his way to the back of the house. Devilin was elbow deep in dirt. “Hey pretty lady. How are you this fine mornin’?” Cayden leans against the fence post; his trade mark lean.

“Cayden I say get out of here.” Devilin sighs; not even looking up from her vegetables. She had everything in her garden: watermelons to pumpkins, cucumbers to carrots, grapes to strawberries, and even flowers. Since the nearest farm was about five miles away, everyone had to have their own personal garden. Wild catches up with Cayden and huffs next to his side. “I can never catch up to you when you walk like that!”

“Still thinkin’ you the hit of the town?” Devilin grins evilishly. Cayden leans harder into the fence post, thinking it’ll give him instant cool.

“Did you forget who I am?” Cayden cocks his head.

“A b’hoy?”

“You betcha I am. And don’t you forget it.” Cayden rubs it in Devilin’s face. He can’t help it that he’s so badass; it just comes naturally. Cayden pushes himself of the fence post, slightly tilting it, and walks away from Devilin.

“Oo Boss! You showed her!” Wild is impressed.

“She want’s me.” Cayden sniffs, walking his swingin’ swaggin’ walk.

Hey guys! I know you want me to keep writing with Deflower me, but I saw that FictionPress had a western catagory and I just had to write one!! Sorry guys!! I'll try and write more of Deflower me soon, but I'm sooo bored with it right now.

Western Dictionary:

b'hoy - rowdy fellow.