Setting
The town of Splitcreek was founded some 5 years ago by a down-on-his-luck miner by the name of Earnest Stanley. Out of food, out of money, and just about out of hope, Stanley found a forked river cutting through the nearby hills and made his camp. Two days later, he found gold in the river and struck it rich. What began as a one man show soon became a bustling mining camp, and over the next five years, a prosperous town. With new people coming every day, Splitcreek is booming.
Unfortunately, the growing population has caused problems. The wealth of the town has attracted some less than desirable characters, and with law and order in short supply, things are getting out of hand. Some people have taken to calling the town "Bloodcreek" as a result of the recent violence.
The threat of cowboys and outlaws, however, has not deterred business men looking to turn a profit. Hotels, banks, general stores and the like seem to be cropping up every day, and Splitcreek is on itâs way to becoming a big city. For now, though, the town consists of one main street lined with saloons, hotels, a post office, speciality shops (saddler, silversmith, etc), and other small businesses.
As with any good olâ Wild West town, Splitcreek has an impressive number of saloons, most of them open all day and night. The most popular, though, is the Silver Spur Saloon, an establishment with the perfect mix of wealthy clientele, friendly barkeep, lots of betting, good liquor, and of course, rowdy bar fights.
The wide main street of Splitcreek is where most of the action takes place. Shoot outs, bar fights too rowdy to be kept inside, and the hustle and bustle of the town all happen here.
Unfortunately, the growing population has caused problems. The wealth of the town has attracted some less than desirable characters, and with law and order in short supply, things are getting out of hand. Some people have taken to calling the town "Bloodcreek" as a result of the recent violence.
The threat of cowboys and outlaws, however, has not deterred business men looking to turn a profit. Hotels, banks, general stores and the like seem to be cropping up every day, and Splitcreek is on itâs way to becoming a big city. For now, though, the town consists of one main street lined with saloons, hotels, a post office, speciality shops (saddler, silversmith, etc), and other small businesses.
As with any good olâ Wild West town, Splitcreek has an impressive number of saloons, most of them open all day and night. The most popular, though, is the Silver Spur Saloon, an establishment with the perfect mix of wealthy clientele, friendly barkeep, lots of betting, good liquor, and of course, rowdy bar fights.
The wide main street of Splitcreek is where most of the action takes place. Shoot outs, bar fights too rowdy to be kept inside, and the hustle and bustle of the town all happen here.
Minimap
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You are here. |
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Splitcreek, Arizona is a part of 
Way Out West.
3 Places in Splitcreek, Arizona:
14 Characters Here
Halley Quinn [54] "Silver Spurs what a place."
Morgan "Doc" Crowe [45] A cool-headed, tough-as-nails guy who really wishes he didn't give a damn
Wildcat Kate [35] Tenacious, hard-headed outlaw looking for trouble
Damian "Nomad" Kovacs [35] "I ain't here for any trouble, my days as mischeif maker are gone."
Jethro "Black" Blackburn [21] The local gunsmith and arms dealer
Cooper Winston [17] A good-for-nothing, womanizing, drunk asshole to the men, yet a rugged, smooth-talking, seductive bloke that makes the bodice tremble to the women.
Jack Westfield [12] '' Have one on the house... You know what have another one too''
Samuel MacTaggart [11] "Look son, if Id've given every one of you slack jawed bastards "just one more chance" I'd be up to me balls in your kind."
Bonnie Bohannon [10]
Hattie Thomas [10] *sighs* "Oh well back to work"
Start Character Here »
Damian jumped halfway out of his seat as he looked around sharply, his eyes becoming alert as he heard the noises of gunshots and yellin' out of things he didn't catch. he pulled the bowl of soup he had to him as he then started to drink it all down his throat, something bad was going on, and his soul ached to find out what it was. His faded green eyes had a look of frenzy and wild excitement as he stood up again and walked out of the saloon. His immediate sign of greeting was a poor man, beat to near death with cuts and abrasions from a dragging and a whipping, or just a whipping.
"Never mind." he thought to himself. "Answers soon, for nothing's unsolvable. I've got a twinge of fear going in my spine if I don't get a job as deputy or otherwise, this town's going to chaos."
He slowly calmed down again when somehow he heard a nervous and frightened voice. He turned around and saw a man holding the saloon girl he gave a friendly nod to dangerously close to him, hand to his gun. Anger slowly boiled up, pent up urges blocked by a two year scorning for it was rushing into him like a flood in the desert. A sense of righteous cause slowly made him walk slowly like a cat to a mouse, pulling his gun slowly from his holster.
When he got close enough, he threw his free arm in an attempt to wrap the offending man around the neck in a chokehold, pulling the hammer of his gun and pointing it to his skull.
"Knock knock, mind if the Nomad cuts in?" Damian spoke in a venomous tone. "Gun on the floor unless you want room for an eye at the side of your head you ignorant rapist pig dog from the bowels of hell and back. Get your phalanges of the girl too unless you want to look at the world backwards. Not joking."
"Never mind." he thought to himself. "Answers soon, for nothing's unsolvable. I've got a twinge of fear going in my spine if I don't get a job as deputy or otherwise, this town's going to chaos."
He slowly calmed down again when somehow he heard a nervous and frightened voice. He turned around and saw a man holding the saloon girl he gave a friendly nod to dangerously close to him, hand to his gun. Anger slowly boiled up, pent up urges blocked by a two year scorning for it was rushing into him like a flood in the desert. A sense of righteous cause slowly made him walk slowly like a cat to a mouse, pulling his gun slowly from his holster.
When he got close enough, he threw his free arm in an attempt to wrap the offending man around the neck in a chokehold, pulling the hammer of his gun and pointing it to his skull.
"Knock knock, mind if the Nomad cuts in?" Damian spoke in a venomous tone. "Gun on the floor unless you want room for an eye at the side of your head you ignorant rapist pig dog from the bowels of hell and back. Get your phalanges of the girl too unless you want to look at the world backwards. Not joking."
Morgan had really hoped to go the rest of the day without seeing another dead/injured/crazy person. He was settled quite comfortably at the bar, and, thanks to Bell's $4, he was enjoying a wide variety of gut-wrenching, face-scrunching, throat-burning liquor. So he was more than a little annoyed when he heard gunshots from outside, followed by a series of shrieks and screams. Someone yelled for a doctor, or was it the sheriff? Hell, from the sound of it, they needed all kinds of help.
Sighing heavily, Morgan brought his glass to his lips and downed the last of his shot before half walking, half stumbling out of the saloon. He neatly sidestepped the shattered glass littering the entryway, calling on the first person he saw to run down to his office and grab his medical bag. The scene in the street was a gruesome thing, and the gory sight immediately sobered the drunken doctor. Immune to all other sight and sound, he rushed to the man's side, his eyes roving the maimed body. There was blood, lots of it- a sea of red swimming in Morgan's eyes.
He dropped to his knees, trying to see past the blood covering every part of the mutilated man. There was no way to tell where the wounds were, or their severity, but the the grisly scene spoke for itself. Someone dropped the medical bag at Morgan's side, and he called for someone to bring him a bucket of water and a damn rag, but no one was interested in coming anywhere near the body, lest the devil himself rise from the bloody figure. Producing his stethoscope from the depths of his bag, Morgan sought out the man's faint heartbeat. The sound was almost inaudible- a soft, shallow thud that seemed to grow quieter by the second. There was no way the man would survive this. It'd be kinder to put a bullet in his brain, though if they didn't do it soon the blood loss would kill him.
At long last someone arrived with a bucket of water, and the doctor made a fruitless attempt to clean the grime and blood from the man's face. The man was barely breathing, but somehow managed to mumble a string of muffled words, which Morgan tried and failed to comprehend. He did catch the name Hass, though, which made his blood boil. Of course the whole mess could be traced back to that crazy German. Hass was so crooked he could swallow nails and spit out cork screws. Bill kept mumbling, and Morgan strained to hear him, picking out the words "gold", "deal", and...knell? Dell? No, Bell.
"Somebody get me Hass!" Morgan roared, tossing the blood-soaked rag into the bucket and getting to his feet. "And somebody help me get 'im off the street!" There was little to nothing he could do for the dying man, but he didn't intend to leave him for buzzard food.
Sighing heavily, Morgan brought his glass to his lips and downed the last of his shot before half walking, half stumbling out of the saloon. He neatly sidestepped the shattered glass littering the entryway, calling on the first person he saw to run down to his office and grab his medical bag. The scene in the street was a gruesome thing, and the gory sight immediately sobered the drunken doctor. Immune to all other sight and sound, he rushed to the man's side, his eyes roving the maimed body. There was blood, lots of it- a sea of red swimming in Morgan's eyes.
He dropped to his knees, trying to see past the blood covering every part of the mutilated man. There was no way to tell where the wounds were, or their severity, but the the grisly scene spoke for itself. Someone dropped the medical bag at Morgan's side, and he called for someone to bring him a bucket of water and a damn rag, but no one was interested in coming anywhere near the body, lest the devil himself rise from the bloody figure. Producing his stethoscope from the depths of his bag, Morgan sought out the man's faint heartbeat. The sound was almost inaudible- a soft, shallow thud that seemed to grow quieter by the second. There was no way the man would survive this. It'd be kinder to put a bullet in his brain, though if they didn't do it soon the blood loss would kill him.
At long last someone arrived with a bucket of water, and the doctor made a fruitless attempt to clean the grime and blood from the man's face. The man was barely breathing, but somehow managed to mumble a string of muffled words, which Morgan tried and failed to comprehend. He did catch the name Hass, though, which made his blood boil. Of course the whole mess could be traced back to that crazy German. Hass was so crooked he could swallow nails and spit out cork screws. Bill kept mumbling, and Morgan strained to hear him, picking out the words "gold", "deal", and...knell? Dell? No, Bell.
"Somebody get me Hass!" Morgan roared, tossing the blood-soaked rag into the bucket and getting to his feet. "And somebody help me get 'im off the street!" There was little to nothing he could do for the dying man, but he didn't intend to leave him for buzzard food.
Just as Hasses feet touched the ground outside the rundown blacksmithing store, three distant figures speed into town dragging some pour soul through the sand and dirt. Now usually such a thing would never daunt nor shake hass on normal circumstances, if you could call it that. But this was far from the normal happenings in splitcreek. For it was none other than bill on the passenger side of the rope.
The men on horses came speeding through main street, firing off their guns and shaking the town to its very core. The men appeared to be a rowdy bunch, with little disregard for human life.
As they reached the large group of miners, one of them beckoned "âWe gut' a message to Mista' Hass!'' before cutting bill loose and leaving him prone in the dust. Both the miners and everyone else anywhere near blackburns store stared as the band of roughriders fired off several more shots before dashing down the last stretch of road and then breaking off in different directions.
Hass rushed as his legs could carry him toward the supposed dead man lying in the sand. It was bill alright. Except for the eyes, or the lack of eyes. He was also beaten up pretty bad. Serves him right.
"Wheres my gold you bastard!" Hass growled, flipping him over and patting him down. But he couldn't find anything. No gold more importantly. hass searched this way and that, even the sand surrounding him searching for a clue. Then something caught his eye; A letter. Ripping it off bills shirt and tearing it open, he was not pleased with the contents to say the least. The note read:
"To Mr. Jan Hass
It has come to my notice that I am in possession of a quite large amount of gold.
You see I am the kind of man who can't walk into a town and exchange an amount as large as this.
But I won't give it back for free. Like yourself I'm a businessman and I hope we can make some kind of deal.
I am in need of a few easy to get items for a man like yourself. But hard to get for someone like me.
What I need is the following:
15 bottles of whiskey or anything with the same sting.
3 kegs of beer.
Ammunition for colt six-shooters and Winchester rifles.
3 cartons of cigarettes
Your former worker has informed me that you are good for it. Don't try to bargain with me.
You'll come alone to Buzzard's Bluff, real charming place I hear with the goods I asked for.
My men will wait for you there and when they can verify that you ain't trying to cheat us
they will reveal the location of your gold. If they die, I will know and we will hunt your German
ass down and hang you from your balls, excuse my language .
Regards R.J Bell"
"That... That bastard!" He screamed. It was needless to say he was not having good luck today. First, bill blew up his mine and stole his gold. Then, Jethro refuses to sell him weapons. Now, this. It was getting hard to cope these days.
"Wheres! My! Gold!" He was now resorting to shaking and beating the near dead man in attempts to interrogate him while every one watched. To bad bill was not capable of coherent language, much to Hasses chagrin. So He settled to sitting in the dust repeating the same phrase into the palm of his hands.
"Wheres my gold, wheres my gold, wheres my gold..."
The men on horses came speeding through main street, firing off their guns and shaking the town to its very core. The men appeared to be a rowdy bunch, with little disregard for human life.
As they reached the large group of miners, one of them beckoned "âWe gut' a message to Mista' Hass!'' before cutting bill loose and leaving him prone in the dust. Both the miners and everyone else anywhere near blackburns store stared as the band of roughriders fired off several more shots before dashing down the last stretch of road and then breaking off in different directions.
Hass rushed as his legs could carry him toward the supposed dead man lying in the sand. It was bill alright. Except for the eyes, or the lack of eyes. He was also beaten up pretty bad. Serves him right.
"Wheres my gold you bastard!" Hass growled, flipping him over and patting him down. But he couldn't find anything. No gold more importantly. hass searched this way and that, even the sand surrounding him searching for a clue. Then something caught his eye; A letter. Ripping it off bills shirt and tearing it open, he was not pleased with the contents to say the least. The note read:
"To Mr. Jan Hass
It has come to my notice that I am in possession of a quite large amount of gold.
You see I am the kind of man who can't walk into a town and exchange an amount as large as this.
But I won't give it back for free. Like yourself I'm a businessman and I hope we can make some kind of deal.
I am in need of a few easy to get items for a man like yourself. But hard to get for someone like me.
What I need is the following:
15 bottles of whiskey or anything with the same sting.
3 kegs of beer.
Ammunition for colt six-shooters and Winchester rifles.
3 cartons of cigarettes
Your former worker has informed me that you are good for it. Don't try to bargain with me.
You'll come alone to Buzzard's Bluff, real charming place I hear with the goods I asked for.
My men will wait for you there and when they can verify that you ain't trying to cheat us
they will reveal the location of your gold. If they die, I will know and we will hunt your German
ass down and hang you from your balls, excuse my language .
Regards R.J Bell"
"That... That bastard!" He screamed. It was needless to say he was not having good luck today. First, bill blew up his mine and stole his gold. Then, Jethro refuses to sell him weapons. Now, this. It was getting hard to cope these days.
"Wheres! My! Gold!" He was now resorting to shaking and beating the near dead man in attempts to interrogate him while every one watched. To bad bill was not capable of coherent language, much to Hasses chagrin. So He settled to sitting in the dust repeating the same phrase into the palm of his hands.
"Wheres my gold, wheres my gold, wheres my gold..."
Halley got out from the man's grip, when the kind man she had waved at in the saloon stepped in and saved her. She pinned herself against the wall worried she might get hurt by either one of the men. Halley looked at the man who was going to try and take her and saw something on the end of his coat. It was a tiny tag that read Freddy. Halley remembered that in her old gang they sometimes had their names etched into their coats, but more often than never, were the names a cover or alias designed to trick any law enforcement, if they should have ever found an article of clothing, that indeed belonged to them. Halley knew that if this man truly was going to take her he was from a gang, and if he was from a gang, chances were that he had back up running around here.
She made a horrible decision and placed her hands calmly on the kind man's back. "Mister he's my cousin sir. He was surprisin' me from coming to Splitcreek fer the month. Freddy come on, we gotta gets goin' anyways." She said in a shaky, yet convincing voice. She pushed the man's gun down lowering it from his head. If she saved the man's life then it would save hers, she knew this for a fact.
Halley knew how to deal with gangs of outlaws. She knew that if a member was killed the gang would do anything to track down and kill the person responsible for it, and sometimes even people or witnesses as well. She knew that by saving the man she wouldn't be tracked done or hunted like a dog, but on the other hand she knew that he was going to take her and do who knows what to her. But it was either that or death, and she chose whatever he had planned for her. Perhaps he was from a nicer gang, or at least, a better one than the one that she had recently escaped. It seemed to her that she just seemed so attractive and worthy to be part of a gang of criminals and outlaws lately.
She made a horrible decision and placed her hands calmly on the kind man's back. "Mister he's my cousin sir. He was surprisin' me from coming to Splitcreek fer the month. Freddy come on, we gotta gets goin' anyways." She said in a shaky, yet convincing voice. She pushed the man's gun down lowering it from his head. If she saved the man's life then it would save hers, she knew this for a fact.
Halley knew how to deal with gangs of outlaws. She knew that if a member was killed the gang would do anything to track down and kill the person responsible for it, and sometimes even people or witnesses as well. She knew that by saving the man she wouldn't be tracked done or hunted like a dog, but on the other hand she knew that he was going to take her and do who knows what to her. But it was either that or death, and she chose whatever he had planned for her. Perhaps he was from a nicer gang, or at least, a better one than the one that she had recently escaped. It seemed to her that she just seemed so attractive and worthy to be part of a gang of criminals and outlaws lately.
Freddy Williams
Williams smiled when the very girl he was trying to kidnap actually helped him. The thought of having his brains covering the wall did not sit well with Freddy and he'd have to thank her later when they were gone from town.
'' That I am.. Why don' you ask next time..'' Williams grunted and took a step back taking Halley by her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze and a fake smile before he motioned for her to get moving. He'd rather not stay to get himself filled with lead or thrown into a cell. Bell's orders of not staying too long could have been something to follow more closely in later raids, if he was allowed to help out again.
'' Let's go cus' ain't wanna' keep ol' ma' waiting now.'' He said in a cheerful voice as he began pulling her with him away from the saloon and the god damned gunslinger with a taste for glory decided to play hero again. He passed the corner with quick steps and when they were shielded from the people by the alley his grip got tighter and his steps faster as he made his way back to his horse. When he approach his horse Williams didn't give her a chance to say anything before he pulled an old burlap sack out from the saddlebag and put over her head. With quick hands he hogtied her hands and feet before throwing her over the back of his horse, untied the reins from the pole nd mounted up. Poor gal was probably scared to death by now.
'' Don' you worry m'am.. I ain't gonna' hurt ya'... right now.'' He laughed and landed a hard slap on her bottoms before he got his horse moving. Williams put his spurs into the side of his mount and quickly got it to shoot across the desert, his one hand holding onto Halley's dress to make sure she wouldn't fall off.
It wasn't long before he had ridden far enough in a wrong direction so he could start to make his way back to camp. He waved his rifle in the air to stop a certain triggerhappy man called Willy Gunsmoke for putting a bullet in him thinking he was one of the lawdogs. A shot fired up in the air was returned to him as a greeting and he bagan to slow down and by the time he reached Willy's little place his horse was calmy walking and biting on a few patches of grass as he passed them.
'' Williams I should just gone putting one of 'em bullets in ya brain for not doin' what the Boss told ya'.'' Willy said and chuckled as he got up, inspecting the gal over the horse's back. Freddy eyed the man and noticed he was wearing a duster and new hat. Where the hell did he get new clothes?
'' I got a lil' present for Bossman, I think he's gonna' be mighty happy with it.. Say where did ya' get them new clothes?'' Williams said and reached for Gunsmokes' hat put the sentry dodged his hand and took a step back. He seemed to be proud as a farmer with a prize winning hog as he pointed over to a couple of small bushes barely covering the body of a man, now almost naked.
'' We got ourself one of 'em Marshals! Hit him right between the eyes!'' Willy almost shouted and started to laugh as he sprinted over to the body to give it a kick in the side, something Williams was sure he'd be doing for quite some time now. Untill Bell told the crazy man to get rid of the corpse. He had to admit, Willy was one hell of shot. He smiled at the eccentric Willy who almost skipped back to his little camp and lit a cigar, probably a reward for a clean shot.
'' I bet ya' feel mighty proud of yesself' don't ya'? But I reckon I better haul my sorry hind back to Bell.'' Williams said and got his horse moving again. When he got to the outskirts of the camp he was created by none other then Bell with his meathead Baker next to him. The look on Bell's face made Williams go pale and he noticed that Baker cocked his gun.
'' Don' shoot boss! I got ya' a present!'' He said and jumped down, leading his horse over to Bell. He could feel his body start to relax as Bell motioned for Baker to put his gun away.
'' Well well... Mighty kind of you Williams.. Now get out of my sight you son of a whore!'' Bell roared and slapped the man over the face before he grabbed Williams by the collar and almost threw him into the camp. With confident steps Bell made his way to the horse and just pulled the poor girl down from the horse, letting her fall to the ground. As Baker took the reins and started to lead the horse away Bell bent down and pulled off the sack covering his new toy's face.
''Welcome to your new home..'' He said and laughed.
Williams smiled when the very girl he was trying to kidnap actually helped him. The thought of having his brains covering the wall did not sit well with Freddy and he'd have to thank her later when they were gone from town.
'' That I am.. Why don' you ask next time..'' Williams grunted and took a step back taking Halley by her hand. He gave her hand a light squeeze and a fake smile before he motioned for her to get moving. He'd rather not stay to get himself filled with lead or thrown into a cell. Bell's orders of not staying too long could have been something to follow more closely in later raids, if he was allowed to help out again.
'' Let's go cus' ain't wanna' keep ol' ma' waiting now.'' He said in a cheerful voice as he began pulling her with him away from the saloon and the god damned gunslinger with a taste for glory decided to play hero again. He passed the corner with quick steps and when they were shielded from the people by the alley his grip got tighter and his steps faster as he made his way back to his horse. When he approach his horse Williams didn't give her a chance to say anything before he pulled an old burlap sack out from the saddlebag and put over her head. With quick hands he hogtied her hands and feet before throwing her over the back of his horse, untied the reins from the pole nd mounted up. Poor gal was probably scared to death by now.
'' Don' you worry m'am.. I ain't gonna' hurt ya'... right now.'' He laughed and landed a hard slap on her bottoms before he got his horse moving. Williams put his spurs into the side of his mount and quickly got it to shoot across the desert, his one hand holding onto Halley's dress to make sure she wouldn't fall off.
It wasn't long before he had ridden far enough in a wrong direction so he could start to make his way back to camp. He waved his rifle in the air to stop a certain triggerhappy man called Willy Gunsmoke for putting a bullet in him thinking he was one of the lawdogs. A shot fired up in the air was returned to him as a greeting and he bagan to slow down and by the time he reached Willy's little place his horse was calmy walking and biting on a few patches of grass as he passed them.
'' Williams I should just gone putting one of 'em bullets in ya brain for not doin' what the Boss told ya'.'' Willy said and chuckled as he got up, inspecting the gal over the horse's back. Freddy eyed the man and noticed he was wearing a duster and new hat. Where the hell did he get new clothes?
'' I got a lil' present for Bossman, I think he's gonna' be mighty happy with it.. Say where did ya' get them new clothes?'' Williams said and reached for Gunsmokes' hat put the sentry dodged his hand and took a step back. He seemed to be proud as a farmer with a prize winning hog as he pointed over to a couple of small bushes barely covering the body of a man, now almost naked.
'' We got ourself one of 'em Marshals! Hit him right between the eyes!'' Willy almost shouted and started to laugh as he sprinted over to the body to give it a kick in the side, something Williams was sure he'd be doing for quite some time now. Untill Bell told the crazy man to get rid of the corpse. He had to admit, Willy was one hell of shot. He smiled at the eccentric Willy who almost skipped back to his little camp and lit a cigar, probably a reward for a clean shot.
'' I bet ya' feel mighty proud of yesself' don't ya'? But I reckon I better haul my sorry hind back to Bell.'' Williams said and got his horse moving again. When he got to the outskirts of the camp he was created by none other then Bell with his meathead Baker next to him. The look on Bell's face made Williams go pale and he noticed that Baker cocked his gun.
'' Don' shoot boss! I got ya' a present!'' He said and jumped down, leading his horse over to Bell. He could feel his body start to relax as Bell motioned for Baker to put his gun away.
'' Well well... Mighty kind of you Williams.. Now get out of my sight you son of a whore!'' Bell roared and slapped the man over the face before he grabbed Williams by the collar and almost threw him into the camp. With confident steps Bell made his way to the horse and just pulled the poor girl down from the horse, letting her fall to the ground. As Baker took the reins and started to lead the horse away Bell bent down and pulled off the sack covering his new toy's face.
''Welcome to your new home..'' He said and laughed.
The man played the part of her cousin and they left together. They rounded the corner and out of sight where the man hog tied her ankles and wrists and loaded her up with the sack over her head. With a hard slap on her ass to make her jump and cry out, he started out of town, riding off at light speed. Halley bounced and the horses body hit her in the gut making her whine a bit. It was most uncomfortable, but she knew that it was necessary procedure in kidnapping young women, like herself.
After what seemed to be about a half an hour of riding in the desert they came to a slow stop, making the unpleasant, bumpy ride come to an end. She heard another man talking about how he shot a Marshal and took his clothes, sounding mighty proud with it too. Then she was led over to, what she thought she had heard to be the leader. Freddy's leader didn't seem to be happy that he didn't follow their plan, whatever it was, but as soon as Freddy said, "I got ya' a present!" Everything seemed to calm down. Halley listened to Freddy sigh in relief. She rolled her eyes under her blindfold and suddenly was pushed off the horse. She fell and groaned in pain from the long fall to the ground. She squirmed a tiny bit, in her bonds, but Halley well knew that it wasn't any good.
She knew how to act in these sort of situations. She had to remain calm and seem somewhat intimidated by the power of their leader, after all, he was going to be, as they put it, her master. Halley decided in her mind that she was going to be an obedient and strong girl in the sense that she can take whatever they can throw at her. But there was one thing she could not hide or fake and that was her fear and nervousness. She knew that these type of men enjoyed having power over people, especially poor, helpless, defenseless women. Halley knew that they loved seeing them scared and as hard as it was to pretend she wasn't and try to be strong, it came to no prevail, because in the real world no one is made of stone. Besides she was in fact surrounded by more than 10 men, or there could have been more, since they seemed to be located in a small part of their establishment.
As the sack was pulled off of her head, she looked up and saw the leader crouch down beside her and say "Welcome to your new home." He laughed in an evil sort of way. She looked up at him nervously, with bright, blue eyes full of fear. She bit her lip and replied in a small voice, a "Thank you sir." She had learned to fake appreciation and address her superiors as sir, Mr. Whatever, Master, or whatever they wanted her to call them. She looked around and saw a man come over and kneel behind her. He lifted her dress up and spanked her on the rear hard. She cried out and jumped in surprise and fright. She closed her eyes, shaking in fear as she bit her lip again.
After what seemed to be about a half an hour of riding in the desert they came to a slow stop, making the unpleasant, bumpy ride come to an end. She heard another man talking about how he shot a Marshal and took his clothes, sounding mighty proud with it too. Then she was led over to, what she thought she had heard to be the leader. Freddy's leader didn't seem to be happy that he didn't follow their plan, whatever it was, but as soon as Freddy said, "I got ya' a present!" Everything seemed to calm down. Halley listened to Freddy sigh in relief. She rolled her eyes under her blindfold and suddenly was pushed off the horse. She fell and groaned in pain from the long fall to the ground. She squirmed a tiny bit, in her bonds, but Halley well knew that it wasn't any good.
She knew how to act in these sort of situations. She had to remain calm and seem somewhat intimidated by the power of their leader, after all, he was going to be, as they put it, her master. Halley decided in her mind that she was going to be an obedient and strong girl in the sense that she can take whatever they can throw at her. But there was one thing she could not hide or fake and that was her fear and nervousness. She knew that these type of men enjoyed having power over people, especially poor, helpless, defenseless women. Halley knew that they loved seeing them scared and as hard as it was to pretend she wasn't and try to be strong, it came to no prevail, because in the real world no one is made of stone. Besides she was in fact surrounded by more than 10 men, or there could have been more, since they seemed to be located in a small part of their establishment.
As the sack was pulled off of her head, she looked up and saw the leader crouch down beside her and say "Welcome to your new home." He laughed in an evil sort of way. She looked up at him nervously, with bright, blue eyes full of fear. She bit her lip and replied in a small voice, a "Thank you sir." She had learned to fake appreciation and address her superiors as sir, Mr. Whatever, Master, or whatever they wanted her to call them. She looked around and saw a man come over and kneel behind her. He lifted her dress up and spanked her on the rear hard. She cried out and jumped in surprise and fright. She closed her eyes, shaking in fear as she bit her lip again.
Kate watched Cooper the way one might an adorable, retarded puppy, laughing as the man rolled around in the dirt. He was kind of cute, in a sleazy, seedy way. In any other "rescue" this would be the point at which Kate rifled through the pockets and personal belongings of whatever drunken man she happened to be in the company of, but the cowboy didn't look to have anything but the (sexily unbuttoned) shirt on his back. Still...
She scooted closer and, upon closer inspection, noticed the animal tooth dangling on the length of leather around his neck. "You shoot this yourself, tough guy?" she smirked, rolling the tooth over in her hand. It was a canine tooth, good and sharp, but not one of any animal Kate could identify. (Which meant it was probably fake). She briefly considered its value, wondering if she could sell it to a superstitious fool who believed in mythical beasts, but decided against it. "So," she continued, "what's it for? Good luck charm? Conversation starter? Tool of seduction?" She continued her search as she spoke, unabashedly rifling through his shirt and pants' pocket. This, of course, provoked another string of crass and immature comments, which Kate, for her own childish reasons, found ridiculously amusing. She wasn't sure the man could even understand her with all the liquor in his system, but looting a man's pockets without having the decency to make small talk seemed terribly rude.
To her dismay, the cowboy had only a few coins in his pants' pocket, which she was sure he would've used in the saloon if he'd been able to walk in the door. She would've lifted them from him, but she had money to spare at the moment, and taking petty cash from a drunk man wasn't nearly so fun as robbing banks and such. "Where're you from?" she asked casually, squatting at his side. She wasn't particularly interested in conversing with the comatose Cooper, but she was sure he'd been out in the desert, which meant there was a slim chance he might've seen Tuesday. If Tuesday's coming really was just a rumor, then hanging around Splitcreek was all risk and no reward.
She scooted closer and, upon closer inspection, noticed the animal tooth dangling on the length of leather around his neck. "You shoot this yourself, tough guy?" she smirked, rolling the tooth over in her hand. It was a canine tooth, good and sharp, but not one of any animal Kate could identify. (Which meant it was probably fake). She briefly considered its value, wondering if she could sell it to a superstitious fool who believed in mythical beasts, but decided against it. "So," she continued, "what's it for? Good luck charm? Conversation starter? Tool of seduction?" She continued her search as she spoke, unabashedly rifling through his shirt and pants' pocket. This, of course, provoked another string of crass and immature comments, which Kate, for her own childish reasons, found ridiculously amusing. She wasn't sure the man could even understand her with all the liquor in his system, but looting a man's pockets without having the decency to make small talk seemed terribly rude.
To her dismay, the cowboy had only a few coins in his pants' pocket, which she was sure he would've used in the saloon if he'd been able to walk in the door. She would've lifted them from him, but she had money to spare at the moment, and taking petty cash from a drunk man wasn't nearly so fun as robbing banks and such. "Where're you from?" she asked casually, squatting at his side. She wasn't particularly interested in conversing with the comatose Cooper, but she was sure he'd been out in the desert, which meant there was a slim chance he might've seen Tuesday. If Tuesday's coming really was just a rumor, then hanging around Splitcreek was all risk and no reward.
"Lied to.... I let myself get force fed it... stupid stupid stupid. She may have saved my life but she also ended her own, this town is afraid of crime, that girl will probably either be raped or killed in less then a week or more." Damian thought bitterly. He sighed openly, nearly penniless and jobless, his first day in Splitcreek left a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted to badly go after the varmint who decided to force feed the lie, but that would mean going back to his bounty hunting ways. He didn't want it, he no longer allowed himself to bounty hunt.
But why fight for the people when all they do is try to not let him get the bad end of a gun? Why was it that today's event sparked old memories? He felt sick inside. He never could keep his beer down when he thought bitter thoughts. "Doggone it!" he muttered to himself. He wandered to Abram and thoughtfully patted the horse's mane as he saw the doctor tend to the poor near-dead man as best he could. Even if it was a futile effort, at least the poor soul wouldn't die alone in a way.
Reaching inside one of his saddlebags he pulled out a small wooden cross, a gift from a kind young child when he went to look around Dodge City for work before wandering further west to Arizona. He pressed the cross to his lips and placed it back in the bag, before turning around and starting to mutter in a calm, yet pained voice, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, he maketh me lie down in green pasture, yea, though I walk to the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Rest in peace."
But why fight for the people when all they do is try to not let him get the bad end of a gun? Why was it that today's event sparked old memories? He felt sick inside. He never could keep his beer down when he thought bitter thoughts. "Doggone it!" he muttered to himself. He wandered to Abram and thoughtfully patted the horse's mane as he saw the doctor tend to the poor near-dead man as best he could. Even if it was a futile effort, at least the poor soul wouldn't die alone in a way.
Reaching inside one of his saddlebags he pulled out a small wooden cross, a gift from a kind young child when he went to look around Dodge City for work before wandering further west to Arizona. He pressed the cross to his lips and placed it back in the bag, before turning around and starting to mutter in a calm, yet pained voice, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, he maketh me lie down in green pasture, yea, though I walk to the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Rest in peace."
Cooperâs head rolled over to look in the direction he figured Kate was. His eyes werenât too far off from where she was; this meant heâd gotten a little bit better at focusing in on things since his arrival at Splitcreek. His brain also decided that processing in a little bit more of what this girl said would be useful, considering they were alone together â though he didnât realize it was an alley. At the mention of his necklace, his shoulder twitched only slightly out of laziness; he didnât want to lift up an arm to poke and prod at his necklace. âDarlinâ, this âere is my dogâs tooth.â He explained his fable, lifting his upper body up and resting on his elbows. He moved slowly, not wanting to provoke any dizziness again. Once he was comfortable, he continued speaking. ââer name was Veigha. Good dog, she was. You evâr feel the love of a dog? She gave ten times mâre thân âhat. Too bad she deâd.â
His eyes attempted to glance over her arms down to her hands to where he could feel someone â soon noticing it was Kate - touching him. Cooper gave her a sly smirk, raising an eyebrow sloppily as he tried to woo her in. âWhile yâre down thâre, you wanna gâve usâselves a good time?â He chuckled when she pulled her hands out of his pockets almost as quickly as she put them in; empty pockets donât take much time to search. âYâre too scarâd to do much? I do undârstand. Not lotsâa ladies can handle all I gots to offâr. If yâre still wantân to play, give it a few minutâs and itâll grow into mâre than mâre than you can handle.â Cooper chuckled, leaning onto his right elbow to reach his left hand up toward her face. âI can see that smile on yâer face. It means you fancy me, donât âcha, babe? Or whatâs it they all say? You like me. Canât blame ya.â He pulled his leg further from her up to attempt to make himself look just a bit more attractive. Cooper Winston made a good model, posing there seductively for Kate.
Disappointed she didnât answer his question right away and instead carried on with her search of his pockets, he watched her blearily. The watching seemed to have bored him, though, because he soon was dazed. His head rolled back slightly as he glanced up to the bright sky. While he would rather not look at the blinding and painful brightness, he couldnât really find much energy to roll his head back forward. Instead of doing much, he just swore under his breath and closed his eyes.
âWhereâre you from?â Kateâs words trailed off into one of Cooperâs ears and directly out the other, seeing as he never responded. All he seemed focused on doing was calming down from his alcoholic high. Maybe reaching serenity would be nice. After all, heâd just spent hours beyond hours wandering around in the desert with only a bottle of vodka and a few worthless pieces of coins in his pocket. Dumb bunch he hooked up with several towns back decided to abandon him smack dab in the middle of nowhere. They didnât even have the kind notion of giving him his horse so they could fend for themselves together. Surely, Cooper deserved a moment to feel happy that he wasnât going to die alone after all. Probably should be a moment of silence for his horse, though, considering he was probably dead or lost by now. Why would a small-town gang keep an extra horse around?
His eyes attempted to glance over her arms down to her hands to where he could feel someone â soon noticing it was Kate - touching him. Cooper gave her a sly smirk, raising an eyebrow sloppily as he tried to woo her in. âWhile yâre down thâre, you wanna gâve usâselves a good time?â He chuckled when she pulled her hands out of his pockets almost as quickly as she put them in; empty pockets donât take much time to search. âYâre too scarâd to do much? I do undârstand. Not lotsâa ladies can handle all I gots to offâr. If yâre still wantân to play, give it a few minutâs and itâll grow into mâre than mâre than you can handle.â Cooper chuckled, leaning onto his right elbow to reach his left hand up toward her face. âI can see that smile on yâer face. It means you fancy me, donât âcha, babe? Or whatâs it they all say? You like me. Canât blame ya.â He pulled his leg further from her up to attempt to make himself look just a bit more attractive. Cooper Winston made a good model, posing there seductively for Kate.
Disappointed she didnât answer his question right away and instead carried on with her search of his pockets, he watched her blearily. The watching seemed to have bored him, though, because he soon was dazed. His head rolled back slightly as he glanced up to the bright sky. While he would rather not look at the blinding and painful brightness, he couldnât really find much energy to roll his head back forward. Instead of doing much, he just swore under his breath and closed his eyes.
âWhereâre you from?â Kateâs words trailed off into one of Cooperâs ears and directly out the other, seeing as he never responded. All he seemed focused on doing was calming down from his alcoholic high. Maybe reaching serenity would be nice. After all, heâd just spent hours beyond hours wandering around in the desert with only a bottle of vodka and a few worthless pieces of coins in his pocket. Dumb bunch he hooked up with several towns back decided to abandon him smack dab in the middle of nowhere. They didnât even have the kind notion of giving him his horse so they could fend for themselves together. Surely, Cooper deserved a moment to feel happy that he wasnât going to die alone after all. Probably should be a moment of silence for his horse, though, considering he was probably dead or lost by now. Why would a small-town gang keep an extra horse around?
There was a story behind the tooth (something about a dead dog?), but unfortunately articulation is not in the drunk person skill set. Between Cooper's slurred words and general drunkenness, Kate had a fair amount of difficulty trying to discern exactly what Cooper was telling her about Verna or Vegas or whoever it was. Whatever the story, it was clear Mr. Beer-for-brains wasn't nearly as suave or skilled as he would lead to believe.
She was quite amused by the drunk cowboy's come-on's, and she did she make an honest attempt to take him seriously, just to see what would happen. Finding it near impossible to keep a straight face, she grinned, which Cooper misconstrued for a lustful gaze. She reared back as he moved to touch her face, surprised the drunken man could even manage to lift his hand. "Hold your horses, cowboy," she laughed, taking hold of his hand, "the only thing I fancy is money, and you ain't got near enough of it to be fooling around with me."
She released his hand, which Cooper apparently couldn't be bothered to support on his own, and the appendage flopped onto his chest. The incredibly smooth Mr. Winston proceeded to adjust his pose, angling his smexy body towards Kate, and she shook her head as she watched the poor cowboy go half-blind as his head rolled skywards. How on earth had this fool made it out of the desert? (Actually, it was probably the vodka, and it must've been good stuff, too. She'd have to get some herself.)
She waited expectantly for an answer to her question, or at least another come-on, but Cooper seemed to have forgotten her presence entirely. Heaving a sigh, she joined Cooper on the dirt, her annoyance evident. It seemed she'd be getting no help from her drunken friend, which meant she still had nothing to go on but the rumors and whispers of Splitcreek's terrified townsfolk. "Can I at least have your name, cowboy?" asked Kate, tracing lazy circles in the dirt with the tip of her finger. "Of course, if you don't wanna tell me, Virgil works just as well."
She was quite amused by the drunk cowboy's come-on's, and she did she make an honest attempt to take him seriously, just to see what would happen. Finding it near impossible to keep a straight face, she grinned, which Cooper misconstrued for a lustful gaze. She reared back as he moved to touch her face, surprised the drunken man could even manage to lift his hand. "Hold your horses, cowboy," she laughed, taking hold of his hand, "the only thing I fancy is money, and you ain't got near enough of it to be fooling around with me."
She released his hand, which Cooper apparently couldn't be bothered to support on his own, and the appendage flopped onto his chest. The incredibly smooth Mr. Winston proceeded to adjust his pose, angling his smexy body towards Kate, and she shook her head as she watched the poor cowboy go half-blind as his head rolled skywards. How on earth had this fool made it out of the desert? (Actually, it was probably the vodka, and it must've been good stuff, too. She'd have to get some herself.)
She waited expectantly for an answer to her question, or at least another come-on, but Cooper seemed to have forgotten her presence entirely. Heaving a sigh, she joined Cooper on the dirt, her annoyance evident. It seemed she'd be getting no help from her drunken friend, which meant she still had nothing to go on but the rumors and whispers of Splitcreek's terrified townsfolk. "Can I at least have your name, cowboy?" asked Kate, tracing lazy circles in the dirt with the tip of her finger. "Of course, if you don't wanna tell me, Virgil works just as well."
Hearing Virgilâs name again seemed to snap Cooper back into his drunken reality. He immediately dropped all silent respects for his trusty steed and switched over to brewing up old grudges once more. âOh, that damn bastârd!â He muttered another curse or two, throwing his free hand up into the air as if batting away the concept of Virgil being anywhere near him. He went on with the subject, however, clearly not realizing that she had actually asked a question. His brain didnât seem to care to stop and say âhey, wait a minute, busterâŠ. Whyâs she even talking about Virgil? What business does she got knowing about Virgil?â Instead, he rambled on.
âHe be a lyinâ, cheatinâ, stealinâ, no-good bastârd who donât know how to keep his word. Iâm a man oâ my word. Ya git that?â All issues with whether he lied before about Veigha or not aside, he truly was more of a man of his word than a lot of other lone cowboys were. He forced his head to lift up to give Kate a strangely contorted expression that was supposed to resemble a warning glare. âVirgil McCormick be a damn idiot. Those be sevâŠen words ya can take âtuh hâart.â Though he couldnât count his words correctly in his head, he sure meant what he said.
He kicked his leg out as he pushed himself to sit up. As he gave a sigh, he shifted around to lean his back against the wall of the building he was closest to â nice and comfy brick wall to rest oneâs back against, was it not? He sniffled and brought the back of his right hand â now finally showing itself as his dominant hand â up to wipe the sweat, boogers, and who-knows-what-elses from his nose. At the same time, he pulled his legs in so that they were bent yet again (though it was both legs this time) and rested his arms lazily over them. Sure, the process in which this took was a bit more sloppy and uncontrolled due to his state of being, but he looked quite normal in the end pose. What were a few arm tosses and leg spasms here and there if he ends up looking like a good, sexy beast?
ââE steals yer money anâ cons ya outta everythinâ ya own. âE ainât a good fella to be âround. âE steals yer ladies and boots ya outta the town. Geez, I gotta score to settle with âim. Didâja know someone câuld make ya feel lowâr than hell?â Cooper scoffed gruffly, hanging his head in the gap between his arms and closing his eyes. It was clear just by that posture that he didnât feel too good â maybe that was whatever happened with VirgilâŠor maybe that really was just the vodka. That suddenly reminded him of his beloved drink, as he had already forgotten about his previous adventure of emptying and breaking his bottle. âWhereâs my damn vodka? Itâs this blasted heat. I need my drink.â He then lifted his head woozily and started his search around for the nonexistent vodka bottle.
âHe be a lyinâ, cheatinâ, stealinâ, no-good bastârd who donât know how to keep his word. Iâm a man oâ my word. Ya git that?â All issues with whether he lied before about Veigha or not aside, he truly was more of a man of his word than a lot of other lone cowboys were. He forced his head to lift up to give Kate a strangely contorted expression that was supposed to resemble a warning glare. âVirgil McCormick be a damn idiot. Those be sevâŠen words ya can take âtuh hâart.â Though he couldnât count his words correctly in his head, he sure meant what he said.
He kicked his leg out as he pushed himself to sit up. As he gave a sigh, he shifted around to lean his back against the wall of the building he was closest to â nice and comfy brick wall to rest oneâs back against, was it not? He sniffled and brought the back of his right hand â now finally showing itself as his dominant hand â up to wipe the sweat, boogers, and who-knows-what-elses from his nose. At the same time, he pulled his legs in so that they were bent yet again (though it was both legs this time) and rested his arms lazily over them. Sure, the process in which this took was a bit more sloppy and uncontrolled due to his state of being, but he looked quite normal in the end pose. What were a few arm tosses and leg spasms here and there if he ends up looking like a good, sexy beast?
ââE steals yer money anâ cons ya outta everythinâ ya own. âE ainât a good fella to be âround. âE steals yer ladies and boots ya outta the town. Geez, I gotta score to settle with âim. Didâja know someone câuld make ya feel lowâr than hell?â Cooper scoffed gruffly, hanging his head in the gap between his arms and closing his eyes. It was clear just by that posture that he didnât feel too good â maybe that was whatever happened with VirgilâŠor maybe that really was just the vodka. That suddenly reminded him of his beloved drink, as he had already forgotten about his previous adventure of emptying and breaking his bottle. âWhereâs my damn vodka? Itâs this blasted heat. I need my drink.â He then lifted his head woozily and started his search around for the nonexistent vodka bottle.
Bell got up and grabbed Alan Briggs arm and pulled him away from the girl. He gave the man a push back into camp and ignored the glare and nasty words coming from Briggs as he wandered back to the fireplace.
'' You are going to be a heap of trouble ain't ya?'' Bell humoured and pulled her up on her feet. He had to admit she was one pretty lady. But with a gang like his pretty ladies meant trouble. With a firm grip around her arm he pulled her with him into the main part of camp. She quickly got the attention of all the men who let out cheers, rude remakrs or just whistled. As she and Bell were walking deeper into the camp every man close tried to grab her dress or get a look under it, Bell himself had a grin on his face the whole time. Seemed like all he needed to raise morale was one girl.
'' Y'all keep it in your pants 'till I know what to do with her ya' hear?'' He said and flashes his men another grin. When he made it to his part of camp the cheers and whistles had died down to chatter again, probably about her. Bell sat down on the saddle turned chair and put his hat next to him. He eyed the poor girl standing before him who barely could hold back a flood of tears. He had to admit that she was easy on the eye and she wasn't screaming for help either, what a gal.
'' Now I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I did not introduce myself. The name's Richard Jones Bell and this here is my gang.'' He said and lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He didn't mind her dress, to be honest he liked it on her but if he planned to keep her around for a while she could do with a better outfit. Perhaps something more practical?
'' You are going to be a heap of trouble ain't ya?'' Bell humoured and pulled her up on her feet. He had to admit she was one pretty lady. But with a gang like his pretty ladies meant trouble. With a firm grip around her arm he pulled her with him into the main part of camp. She quickly got the attention of all the men who let out cheers, rude remakrs or just whistled. As she and Bell were walking deeper into the camp every man close tried to grab her dress or get a look under it, Bell himself had a grin on his face the whole time. Seemed like all he needed to raise morale was one girl.
'' Y'all keep it in your pants 'till I know what to do with her ya' hear?'' He said and flashes his men another grin. When he made it to his part of camp the cheers and whistles had died down to chatter again, probably about her. Bell sat down on the saddle turned chair and put his hat next to him. He eyed the poor girl standing before him who barely could hold back a flood of tears. He had to admit that she was easy on the eye and she wasn't screaming for help either, what a gal.
'' Now I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I did not introduce myself. The name's Richard Jones Bell and this here is my gang.'' He said and lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He didn't mind her dress, to be honest he liked it on her but if he planned to keep her around for a while she could do with a better outfit. Perhaps something more practical?
Halley watched as the leader pulled the other, who had just touched her away and throw him back where he came from. Halley shrugged and nodded at his somewhat humorous remark. Well, his comment might have been funny to him, but to her it was probably a very true statement. Halley knew she'd have to watch her back around here, they had more men than her last gang, but on the other hand they seemed nicer, or at least, as nice as a gang of outlaws can get.
Halley was pulled by her arm through the camp. She received many cheers, hollers, and whistles. She kept her face up to show she could be tough and kept looking forward. With her wrists still bond, the leader led her deeper into the camp. Many men close to her tried to grab at her dress, but many achieved their goal and managed to flick it up enough to see her panties. She squirmed a bit at their touches and leaned close to the leader, who in fact was looking quite smug.
Halley was led over to what seemed to be the leader's corner or part of the camp. She stood as he sat down and lit a cigarette. Halley coughed at the smoke that he blew out of his mouth. She hated smoke, heat, or really, anything that had to do with fire. Smoking was how her old gang sometimes punished her. They'd either light a cigarette and press it to her skin, even in her, most sensitive, parts of her body. They also once tried to get her to smoke by lighting the cigarette and shoving it in her mouth. So ever since then she hated cigarettes, smoking, and fire altogether.
Halley listened to the man and learned his name was Richard Jones Bell. 'Hmm that name doesn't sound that threatening. In fact, it sounds like a gentleman's name.' Halley thought to herself. Halley felt something wet drip down her cheeks and onto her neck. She hadn't even realized that she had started crying. 'It must have been silent crying, I guess.' She figured. Halley stood up straighter and said, "My name is Halley Elizabeth Quinn sir. Its...a pleasure to meet you." She said and did a slight curtsy, or as much as one could, with her hands tied back.
Halley was pulled by her arm through the camp. She received many cheers, hollers, and whistles. She kept her face up to show she could be tough and kept looking forward. With her wrists still bond, the leader led her deeper into the camp. Many men close to her tried to grab at her dress, but many achieved their goal and managed to flick it up enough to see her panties. She squirmed a bit at their touches and leaned close to the leader, who in fact was looking quite smug.
Halley was led over to what seemed to be the leader's corner or part of the camp. She stood as he sat down and lit a cigarette. Halley coughed at the smoke that he blew out of his mouth. She hated smoke, heat, or really, anything that had to do with fire. Smoking was how her old gang sometimes punished her. They'd either light a cigarette and press it to her skin, even in her, most sensitive, parts of her body. They also once tried to get her to smoke by lighting the cigarette and shoving it in her mouth. So ever since then she hated cigarettes, smoking, and fire altogether.
Halley listened to the man and learned his name was Richard Jones Bell. 'Hmm that name doesn't sound that threatening. In fact, it sounds like a gentleman's name.' Halley thought to herself. Halley felt something wet drip down her cheeks and onto her neck. She hadn't even realized that she had started crying. 'It must have been silent crying, I guess.' She figured. Halley stood up straighter and said, "My name is Halley Elizabeth Quinn sir. Its...a pleasure to meet you." She said and did a slight curtsy, or as much as one could, with her hands tied back.
Bell chuckled when she curtsied before him and introduced herself. He was still smiling as he pulled out a knife from his boot and looked up at her. She didn't look all too scared and by the looks of her Williams hadn't fooled around with her yet, and if she was lucky he wouldn't get a second chance either. Bell shook his head and ran his hand through his hair before he got up and closed in on her. His face came very close to hers as he blew smoke into her face before he let the cigarette fall to the ground with his boot casually stomping it out. He grinned as she coughed and squirmed.
'' Well ain't you one proper lady Miss Quinn.'' He said as he reached around her to cut her hands free with a quick slice. Then he took a step back to look her over once again with a bright smile. Hopefully she wouldn't try to run or go for a gun. That wouldn't end well for her at all, but he doubted it. She seemed to have accepted her fate and just stood there trying to not burst into tears.
'' Now I don' know if you's worth the trouble, you know how to cook?'' Bell asked as he once again sat down with his eyes locked on Halley. He let his knife slide back into its sheath. If she could cook or sew maybe they could keep her around, he doubted there was anyone willing to pay ransom for a saloon girl. If she proved to be more of a waste of food then anything he'd just throw her to the boys and let them pass her around like a bottle of scotch.
'' Well ain't you one proper lady Miss Quinn.'' He said as he reached around her to cut her hands free with a quick slice. Then he took a step back to look her over once again with a bright smile. Hopefully she wouldn't try to run or go for a gun. That wouldn't end well for her at all, but he doubted it. She seemed to have accepted her fate and just stood there trying to not burst into tears.
'' Now I don' know if you's worth the trouble, you know how to cook?'' Bell asked as he once again sat down with his eyes locked on Halley. He let his knife slide back into its sheath. If she could cook or sew maybe they could keep her around, he doubted there was anyone willing to pay ransom for a saloon girl. If she proved to be more of a waste of food then anything he'd just throw her to the boys and let them pass her around like a bottle of scotch.
Hattie watched as the situation finally began to wind down the men had ran off with a saloon girl and left the poor man that was dragged to die in the middle of the street. What was worse is another man, Hattie thought he was the German man that owned the saloon came and tortured the poor soul even more. Hattie almost burst into tears as he shook the battered man screaming at the top of his lungs about gold. She had seen enough when finally the doctor came up to check him out, she was sure by the amount of blood pouring from the man's wounds if he wasn't already dead he would be soon and the doctor couldn't do much to help him, except for maybe putting him out of his misery.
She looked to the store so much had happened in a short amount of time, it seemed like they had been standing there the whole afternoon. The shopping could wait for another day perhaps her Pappy and brother would be home and she could come back to town another day without putting the girls in danger.
"Alright letâs just head home" said Hattie was she pulled the girls tear streaked faces from her apron, "I'll make you all some sweet rolls at home... how does that sound?" she said with a gentle smile.
The bribe of sweet rolls wasn't needed and the girls dashed to the wagon; as Hattie hefted each girl up they huddled in a corner together on a small pile of hay still sniffling with silent tears still rolling down their cheeks. She hated that the girls had been put through this, if their mother had been alive Hattie would have been the only one to see this tragedy. But the deed was done and the only thing they could do now was try to recover from it.
Hattie sighed and pulled herself up into the driver seat, "Lord I hope that coming to the West was a good idea" she said quietly under her breath as she lead the horse back home.
The ride back home was very quiet; there was an occasional whisper from the girls but not much more than that. Hattie was on edge the whole ride jumping at any odd sound that came from around them. The only thing she could think of was the fact that those horrible men had gotten away and could still be somewhere lying in wait for anybody to come along. She cursed herself for not taking the shotgun with her in the wagon, but the truth was Hattie didn't think she could shot a man if it came down to it. Years of church going and bible reading had taught her it was wrong to kill someone, and she knew she would choke if the situation would rise.
Finally the Thomas Ranch came into sight once again and Hattie felt like she couldn't get there fast enough. When they stopped the girls quietly filed into the house as Hattie unhitched the horse. Taking the scared weary mare to the barn she immediately headed to the troth and took a long deserved drink. Hattie left Mabel and surveyed the land around to see if there were any signs of her father or brother. Still it was nothing but the occasional bird flying by and the sound of the river flowing in the back of the property.
"God please protect Pappy and Adam, let them get home soon" she prayed just before she stepped in the front door of the house.
She looked to the store so much had happened in a short amount of time, it seemed like they had been standing there the whole afternoon. The shopping could wait for another day perhaps her Pappy and brother would be home and she could come back to town another day without putting the girls in danger.
"Alright letâs just head home" said Hattie was she pulled the girls tear streaked faces from her apron, "I'll make you all some sweet rolls at home... how does that sound?" she said with a gentle smile.
The bribe of sweet rolls wasn't needed and the girls dashed to the wagon; as Hattie hefted each girl up they huddled in a corner together on a small pile of hay still sniffling with silent tears still rolling down their cheeks. She hated that the girls had been put through this, if their mother had been alive Hattie would have been the only one to see this tragedy. But the deed was done and the only thing they could do now was try to recover from it.
Hattie sighed and pulled herself up into the driver seat, "Lord I hope that coming to the West was a good idea" she said quietly under her breath as she lead the horse back home.
The ride back home was very quiet; there was an occasional whisper from the girls but not much more than that. Hattie was on edge the whole ride jumping at any odd sound that came from around them. The only thing she could think of was the fact that those horrible men had gotten away and could still be somewhere lying in wait for anybody to come along. She cursed herself for not taking the shotgun with her in the wagon, but the truth was Hattie didn't think she could shot a man if it came down to it. Years of church going and bible reading had taught her it was wrong to kill someone, and she knew she would choke if the situation would rise.
Finally the Thomas Ranch came into sight once again and Hattie felt like she couldn't get there fast enough. When they stopped the girls quietly filed into the house as Hattie unhitched the horse. Taking the scared weary mare to the barn she immediately headed to the troth and took a long deserved drink. Hattie left Mabel and surveyed the land around to see if there were any signs of her father or brother. Still it was nothing but the occasional bird flying by and the sound of the river flowing in the back of the property.
"God please protect Pappy and Adam, let them get home soon" she prayed just before she stepped in the front door of the house.
Useless. The cowboy was completely and utterly useless. Kate listened to his drunken ramblings with disinterest, trying to reason why she'd bothered with him in the first place. Whoever this Virgil fellow was, Cooper certainly wasn't happy with him. From what she could tell (that is, what she could make out between the curses), Virgil was a lying bastard, and for some reason that just didn't sit well with the oh-so-moral fellow before her.
Virgil McCormick be a damn idiot...one, two, three, four, five, six...right, well, cowboys weren't really known for their mathematic skills, even when they weren't falling down drunk. She nodded along to his story, feigning interest in the hopes he might accidentally say something useful. No such luck. No longer content with his position in the dirt, Cooper made an attempt to sit up, managing the task with the arrogance and suaveness of someone much less drunk. Really, as long as he didn't open his mouth, you wouldn't even know he was a complete and total moron.
He steals yer money and cons ya outta everything you own... Well then, it was a good thing Cooper didn't know she was a lying, thieving snake herself, or the two of them might have a real problem. Though not particularly interested in stealing a man's woman, she'd happily steal anything else of value, and she had a feeling that if she'd known this Virgil fellow they'd have been bosom friends.
She watched as Cooper dropped his head, the liquid courage of the vodka apparently wearing off. The cowboy was now heading into the less pleasant stage of drunkenness, one that would no doubt end with him sprawled out face down in the dirt. But until then, Cooper was quite sure he needed another drink, and quickly, as it'd been at least fifteen minutes since he'd had a bottle of booze to suckle on. Kate rolled her eyes, toying with the tail end of her braid. "It's gone, cowboy. You and the saloon doors had a disagreement, and you came damn close to wearing the remains of that vodka bottle in your skull," she scoffed.
"You need a place to sleep this," she gestured to his slumped over frame, "off. And no, my bed ain't an option."
Virgil McCormick be a damn idiot...one, two, three, four, five, six...right, well, cowboys weren't really known for their mathematic skills, even when they weren't falling down drunk. She nodded along to his story, feigning interest in the hopes he might accidentally say something useful. No such luck. No longer content with his position in the dirt, Cooper made an attempt to sit up, managing the task with the arrogance and suaveness of someone much less drunk. Really, as long as he didn't open his mouth, you wouldn't even know he was a complete and total moron.
He steals yer money and cons ya outta everything you own... Well then, it was a good thing Cooper didn't know she was a lying, thieving snake herself, or the two of them might have a real problem. Though not particularly interested in stealing a man's woman, she'd happily steal anything else of value, and she had a feeling that if she'd known this Virgil fellow they'd have been bosom friends.
She watched as Cooper dropped his head, the liquid courage of the vodka apparently wearing off. The cowboy was now heading into the less pleasant stage of drunkenness, one that would no doubt end with him sprawled out face down in the dirt. But until then, Cooper was quite sure he needed another drink, and quickly, as it'd been at least fifteen minutes since he'd had a bottle of booze to suckle on. Kate rolled her eyes, toying with the tail end of her braid. "It's gone, cowboy. You and the saloon doors had a disagreement, and you came damn close to wearing the remains of that vodka bottle in your skull," she scoffed.
"You need a place to sleep this," she gestured to his slumped over frame, "off. And no, my bed ain't an option."
Hayley stood there nice and quiet, trying to be on her best behavior in front of Bell. She didn't want to screw up their first conversation by saying something rude or unintelligent. Halley froze when she saw the knife that was hidden in his boot, get pulled out and played with in his rough hands. She darted her eyes from Bell to his hand.
Bell got up and started over to her. Halley leaned back as he leaned his face in close to hers and blew the smoke right into her face. She coughed and quickly closed her eyes at the slight sting of the smoke on her eyes. He laughed as he took her tied wrists, making her squirm slightly in his strong grip. with a quick slice, her hands were free. Haley immediately brought them in front of her and massaged the red marks that she now had on her hands.
Halley watched as Bell took his seat again, his eyes bore into her like daggers, she shifted on her feet uncomfortably as he kept his eyes locked on her body. "Now I don' know if you's worth the trouble, you know how to cook?'' Bell asked her.
"Yes sir, Mr. Bell sir. I can cook, sew, and can fix guns if they are broken." She said softly, but loud enough for Bell to hear her clearly. She looked at the ground waiting there in front of him uncomfortably and then shyly looked up at him, waiting for him to decide her fate in this camp.
Bell got up and started over to her. Halley leaned back as he leaned his face in close to hers and blew the smoke right into her face. She coughed and quickly closed her eyes at the slight sting of the smoke on her eyes. He laughed as he took her tied wrists, making her squirm slightly in his strong grip. with a quick slice, her hands were free. Haley immediately brought them in front of her and massaged the red marks that she now had on her hands.
Halley watched as Bell took his seat again, his eyes bore into her like daggers, she shifted on her feet uncomfortably as he kept his eyes locked on her body. "Now I don' know if you's worth the trouble, you know how to cook?'' Bell asked her.
"Yes sir, Mr. Bell sir. I can cook, sew, and can fix guns if they are broken." She said softly, but loud enough for Bell to hear her clearly. She looked at the ground waiting there in front of him uncomfortably and then shyly looked up at him, waiting for him to decide her fate in this camp.
Out of frustration when finding that his precious alcohol was gone, Cooperâs hand dropped over his leg to smack at the earth below him. The sandy texture of the dirt followed the motion of his hand to create a small dust cloud beside him. That was not one of Cooperâs best ideas, though, because most of the dust went into his breathing pathway and he instantly inhaled the dry particles. As he fell into a miniature coughing fit â after all, dirt particles down your trachea isnât a very comforting feeling - he slumped over to the side slightly, his head glanced toward the ground as if he were about to throw up everything but his heart.
âYou need a place to sleep this off. And no, my bed ainât an option.â Kate pointed out, preparing to block out any coy responses Cooper might have. However, Cooper easily noticed a loophole and directly proceeded to plot a just-as-witty retort.
As soon as the coughing died off, Cooper went to sit up and look at Kate with his sly and signature you-know-you-want-me look. His ability to control his expressions improved greatly since his arrival - as his unique expression now actually looked more like a proper face used to hit on a lady. Whether Kate was considered a lady really wasnât in play here, however, considering her apparent, unlady-like behaviors. âNo? Howâs âbout on top âa ya?â He chuckled, giving her a subtle wink along with the flirtatious twinkle in his eyes. He would have gone on with whatever other dirty innuendoes he could come up from that if not for the two more coughs that interrupted him.
After Cooper composed himself, he attempted to find his posture again by scooting back up against the wall âhe had somehow started slouching and felt that that needed some correction. Once comfortable again, Cooper leaned his head back against the wall and continued to give Kate his gaze; the gaze where it had the right mix of softness and seduction where it made one feel needed and loved yet, at the same time, lusting to go on a voyage of passion with him.
âYou need a place to sleep this off. And no, my bed ainât an option.â Kate pointed out, preparing to block out any coy responses Cooper might have. However, Cooper easily noticed a loophole and directly proceeded to plot a just-as-witty retort.
As soon as the coughing died off, Cooper went to sit up and look at Kate with his sly and signature you-know-you-want-me look. His ability to control his expressions improved greatly since his arrival - as his unique expression now actually looked more like a proper face used to hit on a lady. Whether Kate was considered a lady really wasnât in play here, however, considering her apparent, unlady-like behaviors. âNo? Howâs âbout on top âa ya?â He chuckled, giving her a subtle wink along with the flirtatious twinkle in his eyes. He would have gone on with whatever other dirty innuendoes he could come up from that if not for the two more coughs that interrupted him.
After Cooper composed himself, he attempted to find his posture again by scooting back up against the wall âhe had somehow started slouching and felt that that needed some correction. Once comfortable again, Cooper leaned his head back against the wall and continued to give Kate his gaze; the gaze where it had the right mix of softness and seduction where it made one feel needed and loved yet, at the same time, lusting to go on a voyage of passion with him.
Bell gave the girl an approving nod. Been some time since they had someone who could be their full-time cook and seamstress and Bell wouldn't let this opportunity fall out of his grasp. After some quiet staring down into the ground he finally looked up at her again and spoke.
'' Alright, I reckon we can have some use of you. But you ain't walkin' 'round in that.'' He said and motioned at her clothes with his hand. Having a weak women walking around camp would be hard enough and if said woman walked around wearing an outfit like that there was going to be trouble. With a sigh Bell got up and walked over to a large trunk to his right. He popped it open and looked at all the clothes in a messy pile within it. He couldn't remember last time the gang had been in possession of a dress. The last one to actually wear a dress was Georgia Bryans and she was long gone. Hanged by the folk back in Davidsville a year or so ago. But what did they do to all her clothes? Did they throw 'em in the river? Well whatever they did they were long gone. He finally pulled up a pair of brown trousers, a grey collared shirt and a pair of worn out boots, all of them were probably a couple of sizes too big but what did it matter to Bell. He turned back to her and threw the clothes on the ground.
'' You go on ahead and take that dress off now. This ain't no fancy saloon and it ain't fit for hard work.'' Bell chuckled and let his gaze wander from the clothes, over to her and finally to the campfire. It'd be dinner time soon and Pope had caught a couple of fishes in the river which they all were dying to eat since they had spent the last weeks living of bread, dried meat and other not so fresh dishes, and if this girl spoke the truth and her cooking skills were better then the rest then perhaps she wouldn't ''mind'' making a soup or something out of it. What did Bell know? He couldn't even heat up water without setting fire to something.
'' Alright, I reckon we can have some use of you. But you ain't walkin' 'round in that.'' He said and motioned at her clothes with his hand. Having a weak women walking around camp would be hard enough and if said woman walked around wearing an outfit like that there was going to be trouble. With a sigh Bell got up and walked over to a large trunk to his right. He popped it open and looked at all the clothes in a messy pile within it. He couldn't remember last time the gang had been in possession of a dress. The last one to actually wear a dress was Georgia Bryans and she was long gone. Hanged by the folk back in Davidsville a year or so ago. But what did they do to all her clothes? Did they throw 'em in the river? Well whatever they did they were long gone. He finally pulled up a pair of brown trousers, a grey collared shirt and a pair of worn out boots, all of them were probably a couple of sizes too big but what did it matter to Bell. He turned back to her and threw the clothes on the ground.
'' You go on ahead and take that dress off now. This ain't no fancy saloon and it ain't fit for hard work.'' Bell chuckled and let his gaze wander from the clothes, over to her and finally to the campfire. It'd be dinner time soon and Pope had caught a couple of fishes in the river which they all were dying to eat since they had spent the last weeks living of bread, dried meat and other not so fresh dishes, and if this girl spoke the truth and her cooking skills were better then the rest then perhaps she wouldn't ''mind'' making a soup or something out of it. What did Bell know? He couldn't even heat up water without setting fire to something.
Halley watched as Bell went over to a trunk of clothes and pulled out men's trousers, a grey shirt, and boots. Halley looked surprised down at the clothes and then up at Bell. "Do I have too sir?" Halley stared at him with a pleading expression on her face. Bell nodded and she bit her lip.
Halley undid the lacing in the front that kept her breasts up and in the dress secured. She took a deep breathe and pushed the material down revealing her breasts. She let the dress fall to the ground, now only standing in nothing but her small, black lace panties. She looked at Bell, then at the clothes on the ground. She picked up the grey collared shirt and put her arms through the sleeves. Halley rolled up the sleeves to her elbows, then took the bottom corners of the shirt and rolled it up to below her breasts. She tied the corners in a tight knot between her breasts. Halley picked up the trousers and slipped them on over her thin, smooth legs. They were way too big for her, so what she did was roll the tops of the pants around her waist, to fit her better. She then grabbed the boots and tucked the ends of the pants in as she slipped her petite, tiny feet in side the massive shoes.
Sge stood up straight and nodded at Bell for his approval. "Is this satisfactory sir, Mr. Bell?" Halley asked in a sweet, polite voice.
Halley undid the lacing in the front that kept her breasts up and in the dress secured. She took a deep breathe and pushed the material down revealing her breasts. She let the dress fall to the ground, now only standing in nothing but her small, black lace panties. She looked at Bell, then at the clothes on the ground. She picked up the grey collared shirt and put her arms through the sleeves. Halley rolled up the sleeves to her elbows, then took the bottom corners of the shirt and rolled it up to below her breasts. She tied the corners in a tight knot between her breasts. Halley picked up the trousers and slipped them on over her thin, smooth legs. They were way too big for her, so what she did was roll the tops of the pants around her waist, to fit her better. She then grabbed the boots and tucked the ends of the pants in as she slipped her petite, tiny feet in side the massive shoes.
Sge stood up straight and nodded at Bell for his approval. "Is this satisfactory sir, Mr. Bell?" Halley asked in a sweet, polite voice.
Kate watched as the drunken cowboy launched into a self-induced coughing fit, wheezing on the dust he'd churned up. She herself was prepared for the miniature dust storm, and pulled her kerchief up about her mouth and nose until the sandy grit had cleared. Cooper didn't fare as well, and ended up looking perfectly miserable as he rested against the wall.
He was quick to recover, however, and turned his smoldering eyes on Kate, managing an expression that looked almost normal. As far as drunk men went, he was twice as obnoxious as any she'd meant, but pretty attractive, too, which almost made up for his inability to form a proper sentence. The fact that he was unabashedly flirting amused Kate to no end, because 1. She was not the kind of gal men flirted with. Ever. (Especially when she got friendly with her pistol). And 2. The cowboy seemed completely oblivious to the fact that his jaunt through the desert had left him covered with dust from head to toe (and not smelling particularly pleasant, either). Not that Kate was one to judge. She and the wash basin had never had a very close relationship, and it was a miracle she'd even bothered to wash before leaving the Alhambra Inn. But at least Kate was aware of her appearance. The drunken man before her had an almost devout belief that he was, had been, and always would be God's gift to the female species.
But his comeback did make her laugh, perhaps a little too loudly. On top of her? Was he serious? The rehearsed wink and low, sultry chuckle indicated a man who'd spent years perfecting his sexy facade, and hey, who was Kate to shoot him down so soon? "Cowboy, I don't think you could ride a horse in the state you're in, let alone me," she smiled, shaking her head.
He coughed again, but recovered quickly, arranging his long, tanned limbs into an appetizing display of casual but oh-so-sexual appeal. Kate wasn't exactly buying it, but she sure wasn't going to stop him, either. And he was trying awfully hard, which was rather impressive, considering he'd had so much to drink. But what was she going to do with him? She certainly couldn't keep him around, but she didn't have the heart to leave the poor, lusting cowboy in the alleyway.
He was quick to recover, however, and turned his smoldering eyes on Kate, managing an expression that looked almost normal. As far as drunk men went, he was twice as obnoxious as any she'd meant, but pretty attractive, too, which almost made up for his inability to form a proper sentence. The fact that he was unabashedly flirting amused Kate to no end, because 1. She was not the kind of gal men flirted with. Ever. (Especially when she got friendly with her pistol). And 2. The cowboy seemed completely oblivious to the fact that his jaunt through the desert had left him covered with dust from head to toe (and not smelling particularly pleasant, either). Not that Kate was one to judge. She and the wash basin had never had a very close relationship, and it was a miracle she'd even bothered to wash before leaving the Alhambra Inn. But at least Kate was aware of her appearance. The drunken man before her had an almost devout belief that he was, had been, and always would be God's gift to the female species.
But his comeback did make her laugh, perhaps a little too loudly. On top of her? Was he serious? The rehearsed wink and low, sultry chuckle indicated a man who'd spent years perfecting his sexy facade, and hey, who was Kate to shoot him down so soon? "Cowboy, I don't think you could ride a horse in the state you're in, let alone me," she smiled, shaking her head.
He coughed again, but recovered quickly, arranging his long, tanned limbs into an appetizing display of casual but oh-so-sexual appeal. Kate wasn't exactly buying it, but she sure wasn't going to stop him, either. And he was trying awfully hard, which was rather impressive, considering he'd had so much to drink. But what was she going to do with him? She certainly couldn't keep him around, but she didn't have the heart to leave the poor, lusting cowboy in the alleyway.
Cooperâs gaze turned into one of serious consideration. He glanced her over, his eyes jerking from one point to the next, as he couldnât smoothly focus in on all the parts of her body at once. His drunken state caused his vision to decline immensely despite giving him an almost euphoric high. As he glanced over her, he wasnât ashamed to look at her bosom â though he couldnât truly see much due to her baggy clothing. That was the mysterious wonder of the woman, though. Sure, he liked the girls that liked to flash everyone their lovely embellishments, but he also loved the secretive ones. The girls that had something to hide; the girls like Kate.
He laughed heartily along with her, finding her laugh to be a tad bit infectious â especially since he was in a drunken state where everything seemed humorous. âDarlinâ, if ya ainât happy with the way I ride, then you can feel free to take charge. It ainât all on the gentleman, now is it? Aftâr all, ainât you a good rider yerâself?â Cooper met her gaze once more, his playful twinkle remaining in his eyes. His legs suddenly dropped flat on the ground as he threw a hand onto his crotch carelessly. âThisâs an easy stallion to ride, ya know. Easier than yer own horse, Iâll betâcha. Of course, if ya donâ know howâta then I could 'elp ya.â
He snickered, his fingers twitching on the material of his dusty jeans. With that, it almost seemed as if he were desperate; desperateâŠin a non-desperate way, of course. Cooper then rolled over slightly and shifted onto his hands and knees. Almost as quickly as he blurted out his too-sexy comments, he seemed to have turned into some sort of gentleman. Maybe it was the vodka wearing off â in any case, the after-effects of alcohol really didnât make a man feel wondrous. âI ainât gonna force ya to do nothinâ. But if ya want to get me offâa yer case and quit bugginâ ya, then heave me ovâr to the saloon. Iâm dyinâ a thirst.â
He laughed heartily along with her, finding her laugh to be a tad bit infectious â especially since he was in a drunken state where everything seemed humorous. âDarlinâ, if ya ainât happy with the way I ride, then you can feel free to take charge. It ainât all on the gentleman, now is it? Aftâr all, ainât you a good rider yerâself?â Cooper met her gaze once more, his playful twinkle remaining in his eyes. His legs suddenly dropped flat on the ground as he threw a hand onto his crotch carelessly. âThisâs an easy stallion to ride, ya know. Easier than yer own horse, Iâll betâcha. Of course, if ya donâ know howâta then I could 'elp ya.â
He snickered, his fingers twitching on the material of his dusty jeans. With that, it almost seemed as if he were desperate; desperateâŠin a non-desperate way, of course. Cooper then rolled over slightly and shifted onto his hands and knees. Almost as quickly as he blurted out his too-sexy comments, he seemed to have turned into some sort of gentleman. Maybe it was the vodka wearing off â in any case, the after-effects of alcohol really didnât make a man feel wondrous. âI ainât gonna force ya to do nothinâ. But if ya want to get me offâa yer case and quit bugginâ ya, then heave me ovâr to the saloon. Iâm dyinâ a thirst.â
Kate was vaguely aware of Cooper's eyes roving her body. Of course, rove wasn't really the right word, as it suggested at least some amount of smoothness. It was more accurate to say that his gaze was jerking about, as he couldn't seem to take in more than one body part at a time. In any case, it didn't particularly concern her, as there really wasn't anything to see. A plain button-up shirt done up to her collarbone and a kerchief on top of that; it didn't get much more conservative. Kate had always found low-cut dresses and corsets to be ridiculously uncomfortable, impractical, and generally obnoxious, and had done quite well for herself parading around in men's clothing. She could never understand the appeal of being, well, appealing. She had other ways of letting loose, many of which involved illegal action, but no matter.
The cowboy surprised her with an oh-so-charming offer that left even our crass, loud mouth outlaw red in the cheeks. âDarlinâ, if ya ainât happy with the way I ride, feel free to take charge. It ainât all on the gentleman, now is it? After all, ainât you a good rider yerself?â She quickly recovered, turning her blue eyes on him and flashing a brilliant smile. "The very best, cowboy." If he wanted to flirt, well, two could play at that game. "Of course, I use a pair of spurs and a whip on my horse, so..." she turned out her heel, showing off the wicked bit of metal protruding from the back of her boot, "I hope you won't mind if I do the same here."
She looked as his hand, positioned so very conveniently on his crotch, and laughed again, shaking her head. It was too much. He was too much, though she couldn't bear to leave him just yet. But just as Kate was getting into the game, the suddenly gentlemanly Cooper seemed to change his mind. In the most stately manner he could manage, the cowboy moved to his hands and knees, abandoning his modelesque position against the wall. "Cowboy, you couldn't force me if you tried," she muttered, clapping a hand on his back. "And I hate t'burst yer bubble, but ain't nobody going to serve you in the saloon with you in the state you're in. Especially if you try to seduce the bartender," she added, offering him a hand. "But if you can drag yer ass out of the alley, I'll see what I can do for you."
The cowboy surprised her with an oh-so-charming offer that left even our crass, loud mouth outlaw red in the cheeks. âDarlinâ, if ya ainât happy with the way I ride, feel free to take charge. It ainât all on the gentleman, now is it? After all, ainât you a good rider yerself?â She quickly recovered, turning her blue eyes on him and flashing a brilliant smile. "The very best, cowboy." If he wanted to flirt, well, two could play at that game. "Of course, I use a pair of spurs and a whip on my horse, so..." she turned out her heel, showing off the wicked bit of metal protruding from the back of her boot, "I hope you won't mind if I do the same here."
She looked as his hand, positioned so very conveniently on his crotch, and laughed again, shaking her head. It was too much. He was too much, though she couldn't bear to leave him just yet. But just as Kate was getting into the game, the suddenly gentlemanly Cooper seemed to change his mind. In the most stately manner he could manage, the cowboy moved to his hands and knees, abandoning his modelesque position against the wall. "Cowboy, you couldn't force me if you tried," she muttered, clapping a hand on his back. "And I hate t'burst yer bubble, but ain't nobody going to serve you in the saloon with you in the state you're in. Especially if you try to seduce the bartender," she added, offering him a hand. "But if you can drag yer ass out of the alley, I'll see what I can do for you."
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The ride back to town had not been too difficult-- the sun was as hot as ever, but he had not run across any more outlaws. Always a blessing, he supposed-- less of a headache that way. Hopefully they had learned their lesson.
Outlaws who caused too much trouble in Splitcreek often found themselves in the sights of his repeater. It was dirty business, and he hated to leave the town to Alex and Jenny, but at least it was quick. Aim for the torso and down they went.
Kain was a small and unassuming-looking man, an otherwise ordinary civilian. Few suspected that he was the sheriff of Splitcreek, especially given that he only wore his badge on the inside of his jacket. He had quickly learned that he could operate more efficiently without eyes on him all the time-- a strategy that would benefit him greatly, he realized, as he crested a small rocky ridge a few hundred yards from Splitcreek's main drag.
There was some kind of nastiness outside the saloon. Kain slowly wheeled back his horse, parking him behind the ridge and out of sight. "I'll be right back, Chester," he told the horse. Reaching into his saddlebag, he drew out his binoculars and flattened himself against the ridge, peering over the crest. He spotted a bloody, unrecognizable pulp of another man who had apparently been dragged to near-death. While Morgan, Splitcreek's physician, tended to the victim, a new man, one that Kain didn't recognize, swept up one of the tavern girls and started out of town with her.
Immediately Kain reached for his repeater, nestled next to him on the ridge, and he quickly focused in on the man and his hostage. As he exhaled and steadied, preparing to take the shot, he realized that he wouldn't be able to reliably hit the man or his horse-- there were too many people outside the saloon, and his angle meant that he'd risk killing the hostage. Moreover, he was vanishing quickly-- by the time that Kain was ready, the man was on the other side of the street.
He sighed and pulled himself up, taking his repeater and binoculars with him. The hostage would need to be rescued later-- for the time being, he'd need to control the damage and learn what had happened before he had arrived.
Once he was sure that the kidnapper was gone, Kain mounted Chester again and started him down toward Splitcreek. As soon as Chester was back on the road, Kain urged him into a full gallop, and within a minute, he had made his way to the front of the saloon. Morgan was still on-scene, thankfully, as were a couple other residents-- he would get to each of them in turn.
"Shit," he muttered, dismounting Chester several feet away. "Morgan, what happened?" He had only been gone for two days. Shouldn't Alex and Jenny have been able to handle this?
Outlaws who caused too much trouble in Splitcreek often found themselves in the sights of his repeater. It was dirty business, and he hated to leave the town to Alex and Jenny, but at least it was quick. Aim for the torso and down they went.
Kain was a small and unassuming-looking man, an otherwise ordinary civilian. Few suspected that he was the sheriff of Splitcreek, especially given that he only wore his badge on the inside of his jacket. He had quickly learned that he could operate more efficiently without eyes on him all the time-- a strategy that would benefit him greatly, he realized, as he crested a small rocky ridge a few hundred yards from Splitcreek's main drag.
There was some kind of nastiness outside the saloon. Kain slowly wheeled back his horse, parking him behind the ridge and out of sight. "I'll be right back, Chester," he told the horse. Reaching into his saddlebag, he drew out his binoculars and flattened himself against the ridge, peering over the crest. He spotted a bloody, unrecognizable pulp of another man who had apparently been dragged to near-death. While Morgan, Splitcreek's physician, tended to the victim, a new man, one that Kain didn't recognize, swept up one of the tavern girls and started out of town with her.
Immediately Kain reached for his repeater, nestled next to him on the ridge, and he quickly focused in on the man and his hostage. As he exhaled and steadied, preparing to take the shot, he realized that he wouldn't be able to reliably hit the man or his horse-- there were too many people outside the saloon, and his angle meant that he'd risk killing the hostage. Moreover, he was vanishing quickly-- by the time that Kain was ready, the man was on the other side of the street.
He sighed and pulled himself up, taking his repeater and binoculars with him. The hostage would need to be rescued later-- for the time being, he'd need to control the damage and learn what had happened before he had arrived.
Once he was sure that the kidnapper was gone, Kain mounted Chester again and started him down toward Splitcreek. As soon as Chester was back on the road, Kain urged him into a full gallop, and within a minute, he had made his way to the front of the saloon. Morgan was still on-scene, thankfully, as were a couple other residents-- he would get to each of them in turn.
"Shit," he muttered, dismounting Chester several feet away. "Morgan, what happened?" He had only been gone for two days. Shouldn't Alex and Jenny have been able to handle this?
Jack had tried to remain calm as he heard the gunfire outside and the screams of the people. When one of them spoke up speaking of a message to Mr. Hass Jack noticed how McHaran had gone stiff and then ducked under the table clutching the bottle of whiskey in his hands. Morgan had rushes out of the saloon and a few minutes after Jack joined him and the crowd outside. It was a horrible sight before him. A man beaten to the point where he didn't even look like a man anymore. Jack tried to push away the feeling that he needed to throw up and he looked away.
Alright Jack shape up you're going home to pa' and ma' remember? Cheer up. He thought to himself as he said his good bye to Thomas Burkins whose shift had just started. Jack could see that Thomas didn't like the way his shift started and the middle aged man wiped some sweat from his wrinkled forehead. Jack also noticed his boss Mr. Hass throwing a fit and yelling at.. Bill!? May the lord have mercy on the poor man's soul and may he strike down Hass who was cursing and shaking the dying Bill on the ground screaming about his gold.
'' You stay safe now Jack, ain't safe no more with them outlaws riding 'round town.'' Thomas said and gave the young bartender a comforting pat on the back before he went inside the bar which would probably get crowded today considering the recent events. Jack gave Thomas a weak smile as he began walking over to his horse that hads been in his possession for as long as he can remember. As he untied the reins he looked over to the doctor doing his best to take the pain away from Bill. Jack sighed and grabbed the reins as he walked over to the doctor.
'' Doc.. Ain't no use I think he's done for, he needs a someone to pray for him I reckon. I.. I just need to get home to the ranch.. If this is happening here in town imagine what could happened to the folks out in the wilderness y'know? Take care..'' The otherwise cheerful Jack seemed very troubled as he mounted up and got his horse into a trot out of town.
When he finally reached his family home and he saw his father waiting by the fence for him with his old pipe between his lips and a cloud of smoke over his head. Old fool loved the pipe as much as he loved his family. Jack jumped down from his horse and his father took the reins.
'' You's early boy just in time for supper.. Old Hass chased ye' out of town or sumin'?'' Jack's father mumbled and put his other arm around his son's shoulder while they walked to the small barn. Jack spoke of last weeks' events put left out the part with a half dead man dragged through town for now. Jack asked about his mother and siblings and his father gave the usual replies: The brats ate too much and didn't help out enough and his hag of a wife was only complaining.
'' You can try acting like a cold hearted man Pa' but we all know you's a big softy.'' Jack laughed and dodged the weak slap his father threw his way.
'' The others are waitin' for ya' Jackie, and you don' keep you ma' waitin'.'' The old man said and walked with his son into the house where the whole family was and greeted him with hugs. It felt like all the troubles of the world didn't exsist here with his family, and it was great.
Alright Jack shape up you're going home to pa' and ma' remember? Cheer up. He thought to himself as he said his good bye to Thomas Burkins whose shift had just started. Jack could see that Thomas didn't like the way his shift started and the middle aged man wiped some sweat from his wrinkled forehead. Jack also noticed his boss Mr. Hass throwing a fit and yelling at.. Bill!? May the lord have mercy on the poor man's soul and may he strike down Hass who was cursing and shaking the dying Bill on the ground screaming about his gold.
'' You stay safe now Jack, ain't safe no more with them outlaws riding 'round town.'' Thomas said and gave the young bartender a comforting pat on the back before he went inside the bar which would probably get crowded today considering the recent events. Jack gave Thomas a weak smile as he began walking over to his horse that hads been in his possession for as long as he can remember. As he untied the reins he looked over to the doctor doing his best to take the pain away from Bill. Jack sighed and grabbed the reins as he walked over to the doctor.
'' Doc.. Ain't no use I think he's done for, he needs a someone to pray for him I reckon. I.. I just need to get home to the ranch.. If this is happening here in town imagine what could happened to the folks out in the wilderness y'know? Take care..'' The otherwise cheerful Jack seemed very troubled as he mounted up and got his horse into a trot out of town.
When he finally reached his family home and he saw his father waiting by the fence for him with his old pipe between his lips and a cloud of smoke over his head. Old fool loved the pipe as much as he loved his family. Jack jumped down from his horse and his father took the reins.
'' You's early boy just in time for supper.. Old Hass chased ye' out of town or sumin'?'' Jack's father mumbled and put his other arm around his son's shoulder while they walked to the small barn. Jack spoke of last weeks' events put left out the part with a half dead man dragged through town for now. Jack asked about his mother and siblings and his father gave the usual replies: The brats ate too much and didn't help out enough and his hag of a wife was only complaining.
'' You can try acting like a cold hearted man Pa' but we all know you's a big softy.'' Jack laughed and dodged the weak slap his father threw his way.
'' The others are waitin' for ya' Jackie, and you don' keep you ma' waitin'.'' The old man said and walked with his son into the house where the whole family was and greeted him with hugs. It felt like all the troubles of the world didn't exsist here with his family, and it was great.