William licked his lips and shifted his burning cigar over to the right side of his mouth as his horse trotted over the hilltop, and he slowed the animal down to a standstill and looked out over the medium sized town. It was a decent size, and probably had more than a hundred or so people that lived there. Silas said he stayed in this town for a few days before continuing on to finish their father's foolish search of El Dorado, the fabled city of gold, after his only solid lead refused to help him. It was pure folly to leave their lives in America to travel to some old world country in search of a myth that would get him killed. A hot wind blew from behind him, ruffling his worn and torn maroon poncho and his long brown hair. A beard had sprouted from the time he started his Journey from Texas to this little backwater Mexican town, and had grown considerably since then, making him seem at least a decade older than he was.
His green eyes studied the town and it's surroundings, taking in all possible routes that Silas could have taken. There was a good sized river off to the left of the town, which most likely provided the residents with water, food and other necessities. There were a few pens that house a few pigs, horses, and cows in the town, and several stores, and a few taverns. William could do with a drink to wet his whistle, and with a long drag on the smouldering cigar, her adjusted his worn brown cowboy hat and spurred his horse on towards the city.
It took him a handful of minutes to reach the beginning of the town, and already he could hear the clamoring of people along with the calls of the domesticated animals they kept in their city. William soon arrived down the main street of the town, and the clamoring stopped and everything stopped what they were doing and looked to the strange gringo that had entered their town. It was so quiet that the sound of William's guns and spurs along with the horse's steps seemed to be earth shatteringly loud in the now silenced town. William ignored it, and with another drag of his cigar he kept his eyes on the straight and narrow before catching a glimpse of a tavern off to the right. He spurred his horse on toward the tavern, feeling every eye on him.
When he reached the tavern, he slid off the back of his horse and the soles of his worn cowboy boots hit the hard dusty ground, sending up a plume of dust into the air. He lead his horse the rest of the way and tied it up to the post outside and watched it drink for a moment before turning on his heel, climbing the steps and pushing the saloon doors open. Everyone stopped with the new arrival and stared at the cowboy, William chewed on the end of his cigar and made his way to the bar with every pair of eyes on him as he walked, his footsteps against the hardwood echoing loudly in the silenced tavern.
He sat down on a stool in front of the bartender and ordered two drinks, a whiskey and a glass of water. William downed the water and sipped softly on the glass of whiskey, savouring the smoky and rich taste. He'd always loved whiskey, even when he was convince to try it by his older brother back a few years ago. Hell, that was the reason he was trying to find him. Silas was his only flesh and blood since his father died a few years back and before him, his mother caught pneumonia and passed away. Silas had a wife and child who were waiting for him, and they hadn't received a letter from him either and pleaded with William to go and find him. Who else would be suited better to find Silas other than his rough and tough younger brother? William wasn't someone who needed anyone to look after him, he spent most of his youth as a cavalryman in the U.S. Army and after that was a bounty hunter for a short while until becoming a Texas Ranger. He could take care of himself, and was obviously the only choice to search for him.
William took another drink from the whiskey and sat it down softly. The room had slowly turned back to normal and conversation had slowly resumed. William was sure they were wary of a strange man who'd they'd never seen before, and rightly so. It was stupidity not to mistrust a stranger, especially out in the wilderness, but usually when you told them you were law, they seemed to trust you a little bit more. William took another drink of whiskey, and gestured for the bartender to refill his water glass, which the older Mexican man did. William thanked him, and drained the rest of it before placing several pesos on the counter, and turning on his heel to walk back outside, where he saddled his horse again and spurred it to a slow trot towards the house that Silas had mentioned in his letters.
There it was, standing proudly just a few yards from the tavern, just as Silas said. William reached into his saddlebag on the right and pulled the letter Silas had written before leaving this town, and skipped his way to the paragraph before the end, where he described the house. After reading each word, William raised his eyes to find the single characteristic that was described in Silas's neat handwriting.
"Rosewood door, walls painted white, circle window with that old symbol father had on all of his stuff, porch with two brown rocking chairs and a small table, and a Mexican man who looks older than he is with graying hair and a beard." William said softly, taking a drag on his cigar, before shifting his eyes as the door opened, revealing a pretty young Mexican woman. "Hmmm."
That was not a man, causing William to shift his worn brown hat to block the sun to get a better view. William raised an eyebrow as he studied the woman, before flipping his cigar over to the other side of his mouth, taking a small drag and letting it out on the opposite side of his mouth.
"You're too pretty to be Jorge." William said in his gruffy, bass voice. "Where's he at?"