Emerald Ranch, true to its name, most of its land is used for grazing.

  Stephen had barely left the stables when he encountered large herds of cattle and sheep grazing along the roadside, overseen by several ranch hands.

  However, he wasn't in the mood to appreciate the scenery; he was simply too tired after a long day of hard work.

  He headed straight for the saloon in the center of the ranch, intending to have a good meal and then get some much-needed rest.

  Pushing open the doors of the saloon, Stephen stepped inside.

  It was an old saloon, the somewhat dilapidated building and equally aged tables hinting at its long history.

  The owner, an elderly woman, sat behind the bar, doing her accounts.

  Seemingly surprised to see someone so early, she looked at Stephen with a hint of bewilderment.

  "Got any food?"

  Stephen leaned on the bar, speaking in a gentle tone, "I've come all the way for your fried fish, been dreaming about it since I had it last year."

  "Oh... that's unfortunate."

  The old woman put down her ledger, saying regretfully, "We ran out of fish yesterday. My son's gone to get more, but it won't be back until evening at the earliest."

  "Well, that's fine. I'm planning to stay at least until tomorrow."

  Stephen smiled, pulling a few bills from his pocket. "I need some food and a room to rest."

  "That's wonderful. I'm sure you'll be satisfied."

  The old woman smiled as she took the money, then picked up a rag and wiped down the table and chairs that caught the best of the sunlight.

  "Have a seat. I'll get you some oatmeal and bread, how does that sound?"

  "Perfect, and even better if you have some meat."

  "Then I'll get you some roast meat too." The old woman said with a smile, "Young people always have such good appetites."

  With that, she slowly walked into the kitchen, leaving Stephen alone in the saloon.

  The oatmeal arrived quickly, and the old woman's cooking was excellent.

  The oatmeal was sweet and delicious, though perhaps a little too much sugar had been added, making it a bit cloying.

  But thankfully, there was also roast meat and bread. Stephen wolfed down his breakfast before heading upstairs to sleep.

  He slept until evening, only then rising groggily from the bed.

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  It wasn't that he'd had enough sleep, but rather that the noise from downstairs was too loud.

  The houses in America in this era were mostly made of wood, so soundproofing was non-existent.

  Through the gaps in the floorboards, Stephen could clearly see what was happening downstairs.

  He stood up, stretching languidly, deciding that since he was awake, he might as well get up.

  Stephen did some simply wash up and walked down.

  Seeing Stephen come downstairs, the old woman immediately invited him to eat fried fish, saying she had saved some specifically for him.

  Stephen was overjoyed and happily took his fish, finding a corner table to sit at.

  The fish was made with fresh local bass, filleted and seasoned with pepper and other spices to remove any fishy taste.

  Then it was coated in batter and slowly fried in a pan over low heat.

  This resulted in fish that was golden brown and had a wonderful aroma.

  Stephen picked up a piece of fish and bit into it, a rich fish fragrance filling his mouth.

  Paired with a sip of light wine, it was pure bliss.

  The meal was accompanied by a bowl of thick vegetable soup and two pieces of toasted soft bread.

  As Stephen was happily enjoying his dinner, a stranger sat directly across from him.

  The man was dressed quite… smartly.

  Yes, smartly.

  He was wearing a well-tailored suit, his hair neatly combed.

  He wore a delicate gold necklace around his neck and held a thick cigar in his hand.

  Stephen looked at the uninvited guest and said with a smile, "If you're not here to join me for dinner, then I assume you want something from me?"

  The man returned an elaborate smile, looking at Stephen with a dazzling light, "I just came to see what kind of person would have the gall to mess with the O'Driscoll gang."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry."

  The man smacked his forehead, then said apologetically, "I should have introduced myself first, how rude of me."

  "I'm William Jackson, a businessman from Blackwater."

  "Heh, there seem to be a lot of businessmen around these days." Stephen shook his head. "Stephen Johnson, a bounty hunter."

  Stephen picked up a fish cake and popped it into his mouth, watching William as he chewed. "What kind of business are you in? And what does it have to do with me?"

  "It has everything to do with you, of course."

  William graciously offered a trimmed cigar. Stephen didn't hesitate to take it.

  After elegantly lighting Stephen's cigar, William spoke slowly.

  "I work for some prominent people in Blackwater, helping them deal with some tricky situations."

  "You see, those prominent people often have some unfortunate encounters that require someone like us to solve their problems, and that's what I do."

  'So, a fixer,' Stephen realized.

  He smiled, taking a puff of the cigar, "If that's the case, why aren't you completing your assignment? What brings you to this backwater saloon?"

  "I'm here to work, of course, but I must beg to decline answering exactly why, as I am dedicated to my customer’s privacy and security, this, after all is apart of my trade."

  William said regretfully, "It's my professional code."

  "A fine professional code."

  Stephen nodded. "But what does it have to do with me?"

  "Everything, because I run a successful business, after all!"

  William looked at Stephen eagerly, "That is why I seek others out who also are of my trade, some skilled partners, to say the least."

  "You managed to take down the O'Driscoll gang. That just goes to show how capable you are and with this in mind I am confident to say that we will work together"

  "Of course, the rewards are generous. Those prominent people are always generous to those in our field, and so I can most definitively guarantee that I to am such a figure."

  William looked at Stephen with shining eyes, and Stephen returned the gaze.

  The two stared at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

  "Heh, not bad, looks like a business has come knocking on my door."

  Stephen looked curious. "What do you want me to do? I don't take on every job."

  "Naturally, nor do I."

  William pulled out a business card and placed it on the table. "I'm just here to introduce myself. If you ever need money, you can come find me here."

  Stephen picked up the card. It had an address: "Jackson Detective Agency, 17 Central Avenue, Blackwater."

  "That's right. If you're interested, feel free to stop by for a cup of coffee."

  "Alright, I think I will."

  Stephen pocketed the card and said to William, "If you have any good jobs, you can look for me as well. I tend to work around Strawberry and Valentine."