The Mighty Peculiar Incident at Muddy Creek
A Short Story by
Ian Thomas Healy
Copyright 2011 Ian Thomas Healy
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The day was already hot, and that would mean tempers flaring by nightfall. Sheriff Jesse Hawkins scraped his boots on the edge of the boardwalk to remove the mud. Whoever said that the West was supposed to be dry and dusty had never been to Muddy Creek. Damned if it didn't rain four days out of every week during the spring and summer. Rain meant mud, and mud meant that both the Chinese laundry and the general store both did a brisk business in cleaning and cleaning supplies.
But the rain also meant that the surrounding plains were lush and green, and made for good farming and better ranching, and that was why the citizens of Muddy Creek were more than willing to put up with dirty footprints. Times were good, and there was a lot of money being spread around the town because of it—mostly at the gambling halls, taverns, and bordellos at the south end, and that often led to trouble of one kind or another.