she received. Bishop must have shaken at least 50 hands. Hunter proved himself a charmer, opening his blue eyes and simply being cute.
Eventually , the bedlam subsided, and the couple started their tour of the market. They hadn’t progressed more than 20 steps when Betty’s scorn rang out above the hum of activity. “What are you two doing?”
Terri turned, smiling at her friend. “We decided to get out and about for a bit. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, I thought you were going shopping without looking at your gifts first.”
“Gifts?” Terri asked, throwing Bishop a questioning look.
Betty nodded, “People have been delivering baby gifts for two days. I’ve got a lobby full of toys and clothes on one side. A stroller, car seat and playpen line the other side with barely room to navigate to the front desk. Sheriff Watts even dropped off two cases of disposable diapers.”
Bishop was embarrassed by it all, every corner of The Manor’s common room stacked with boxes, some even adorned with wrapping paper, bows, and ribbons.
“Oh my,” Terri’s reacted. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Well, you can leave it here for a while, but I’m going to need my lobby back eventually.”
Bishop glanced down at Hunter, “You’re only three days old, and already you have accumulated more stuff than I have. Way to go, kid.”
After scanning the collection, the couple returned to the market, meandering here and there – simply enjoying the day. At one point, Terri engaged in a political conversation with a group of ladies selling handmade cloth, the product of a local loom. Bishop, bored with the topic, excused himself and decided Hunter was old enough to visit his first saloon.
Pete, as usual, was behind the bar. The smile that broke out across his face when Bishop and his son entered was brighter than the sunlight that flooded through the open door.
“Two beers,” Bishop teased.
“Coming right up,” Pete responded, never missing a beat.
“Actually, I’d love a cup of coffee if you have any. I think my friend here is fine.”
There were few patrons at the early hour, most taking advantage of Pete’s secret coffee stash. All of them abandoned their steaming mugs, moving to catch a view of the bundle Bishop protected in his arms.
After pouring Bishop’s order, Pete demanded to hold the community’s newest citizen. “After all, Terri said I was going to be the lad’s godfather. We should get acquainted.”
“Support his head,” Bishop joked, finally handing Hunter over.
Pete grunted at the instructions. “I’ve held more infants than I can remember. Support his head, indeed.”
The mayor of Meraton abandoned his duties behind the bar, instead choosing to give his new godson a tour of the facilities. Bishop sipped his joe as Hunter made the circuit; each neon sign, window and table a point of interest and deserving a softly voiced explanation from the proprietor.
Pete was in a back corner when Terri came hustling inside. “Where’s our son?” she inquired immediately.
“I don’t know . I thought you had him?” Bishop teased, trying desperately to keep a straight face.
The effort failed, but Terri played along, responding in her best western twang. “I thought I’d find you here… you… you no good bum. Here I trust you with our firstborn child, and what do you do the first chance you get? You sneak off to a saloon. You go out drinking! Mr. Mayor, I believe we may have a case of ‘contributing to the delinquency of an incredibly tiny minor.’”
Bishop’s snort quickly turned into a full blown chuckle, his wife matching the laughter. Pete appeared, cooing at Hunter who seemed no worse the wear from his adventure.
“Hi , Mom,” Pete greeted, happy to see Terri up and about.
Terri held out her arms, but Pete hesitated to return the swaddled bundle. “Now don’t be in an all fired hurry there, missy. I’m bonding with the boy. Letting him know he’s got friends in high
Eventually , the bedlam subsided, and the couple started their tour of the market. They hadn’t progressed more than 20 steps when Betty’s scorn rang out above the hum of activity. “What are you two doing?”
Terri turned, smiling at her friend. “We decided to get out and about for a bit. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, I thought you were going shopping without looking at your gifts first.”
“Gifts?” Terri asked, throwing Bishop a questioning look.
Betty nodded, “People have been delivering baby gifts for two days. I’ve got a lobby full of toys and clothes on one side. A stroller, car seat and playpen line the other side with barely room to navigate to the front desk. Sheriff Watts even dropped off two cases of disposable diapers.”
Bishop was embarrassed by it all, every corner of The Manor’s common room stacked with boxes, some even adorned with wrapping paper, bows, and ribbons.
“Oh my,” Terri’s reacted. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Well, you can leave it here for a while, but I’m going to need my lobby back eventually.”
Bishop glanced down at Hunter, “You’re only three days old, and already you have accumulated more stuff than I have. Way to go, kid.”
After scanning the collection, the couple returned to the market, meandering here and there – simply enjoying the day. At one point, Terri engaged in a political conversation with a group of ladies selling handmade cloth, the product of a local loom. Bishop, bored with the topic, excused himself and decided Hunter was old enough to visit his first saloon.
Pete, as usual, was behind the bar. The smile that broke out across his face when Bishop and his son entered was brighter than the sunlight that flooded through the open door.
“Two beers,” Bishop teased.
“Coming right up,” Pete responded, never missing a beat.
“Actually, I’d love a cup of coffee if you have any. I think my friend here is fine.”
There were few patrons at the early hour, most taking advantage of Pete’s secret coffee stash. All of them abandoned their steaming mugs, moving to catch a view of the bundle Bishop protected in his arms.
After pouring Bishop’s order, Pete demanded to hold the community’s newest citizen. “After all, Terri said I was going to be the lad’s godfather. We should get acquainted.”
“Support his head,” Bishop joked, finally handing Hunter over.
Pete grunted at the instructions. “I’ve held more infants than I can remember. Support his head, indeed.”
The mayor of Meraton abandoned his duties behind the bar, instead choosing to give his new godson a tour of the facilities. Bishop sipped his joe as Hunter made the circuit; each neon sign, window and table a point of interest and deserving a softly voiced explanation from the proprietor.
Pete was in a back corner when Terri came hustling inside. “Where’s our son?” she inquired immediately.
“I don’t know . I thought you had him?” Bishop teased, trying desperately to keep a straight face.
The effort failed, but Terri played along, responding in her best western twang. “I thought I’d find you here… you… you no good bum. Here I trust you with our firstborn child, and what do you do the first chance you get? You sneak off to a saloon. You go out drinking! Mr. Mayor, I believe we may have a case of ‘contributing to the delinquency of an incredibly tiny minor.’”
Bishop’s snort quickly turned into a full blown chuckle, his wife matching the laughter. Pete appeared, cooing at Hunter who seemed no worse the wear from his adventure.
“Hi , Mom,” Pete greeted, happy to see Terri up and about.
Terri held out her arms, but Pete hesitated to return the swaddled bundle. “Now don’t be in an all fired hurry there, missy. I’m bonding with the boy. Letting him know he’s got friends in high
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