"Pretty sure someone would come complain' to me if I hadn't fed our good local Marshal." He replied with a shrug. Namely Zed. He glanced down at the finger tap.

Ah, hell. There was more.

"You've got something else rumbling in that big hat of yours. Out with it." John, though, had a sinking feeling that this one might not be at the level of the circling emotional mess going on down where the cowboys holed up. "Otherwise I'm going to confiscate that bloody juice of yours."