Another Fine Mess
"Bruised Knuckles and Bars"

"Call him anyway," Ross urged, holding out his handcuffed wrists. "I'm kind of at a disadvantage."

Damn. Jed nodded, finally picking up the receiver and dialing his house, hoping Eli was even there.

"'Lo?"

Oh, thank goodness. "Hey, Mister. You got a minute?"

"For you, Thatcher? You bet. What's up? Too drunk to drive?" Eli had that indulgent tone he got when Jed and Ross were out on the town, such as it was in rural Western Colorado, and couldn't get home.

"Something like that. Uh. We have a little situation here."

"A little one?" Now he could just see Eli starting to frown, those dark eyes going all stormy. "What kind?"

"Well, we're not broke down on the side of the road or stuck at the bar."

"Uh-huh. Where are you?"

"Down in Delta." That was the truth, at least.

He heard a long, drawn out sigh. "Where?"

"At the jail." Jed kinda held his breath, hoping Eli wouldn't explode. The man had a temper and a half sometimes.

"No shit? Well, at least that has a bed and I don't have to worry about you freezing to death outside. Sounds like a good place for you."

"Now, Eli...."

"Nope. You're in jail, it means you were drunk and disorderly, which means you can just damned well stay there overnight. I can't believe you two would ruin Nancy and Lloyd's party this way."

"Hold on, Mister. We didn't start it. You know Ross can't sit still for name calling and shit."

"Uh-huh. And I know you just have to help. You know what? I think you and Ross ought to sleep in jail tonight and think about how disappointed your momma is gonna be. 'Night."

The phone clicked, and then a dial tone sounded, making Jed sigh and hang up.

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