NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is a Semi-Open RP. If you would like to participate, post in the interest thread (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=489477) or send me a telegram and we’ll move things right along.

Here are the rules of engagement for the participants.


1. Try to keep your posts IC as much as possible.
2. Each nation can only have two characters, maximum.
3. Characters can only have tech that would have been available in and during the time of the western expansion of the RL United States of America.
4. No magic, unless it's of the sleight-of-hand variety.
5. No wanking or godmoding, obviously.
6. If you want to quit the RP for some reason, just write yourself out of the story.
7. Please run your posts through a spelling and punctuation checker if you have problems with either of those things.
8. Feel free to roleplay my character giving you drinks or a pack of cards.
9. You must roleplay your character leaving the town or dieing.


IC:

A Saloon Story
A Texan Hotrodders Production: No Rights Reserved


My name is Bertha. Bertha Blower, to be exact. As my pa was fond of sayin', I may be a Blower, but I ain't no sucker. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...and my shotgun comes out. I have me a shotgun or four right here in the Pit Stop, but y'all don't need to be tellin' nobody. You may be lookin' at me and thinkin' how unlikely it is that a woman of my respectable girth could handle a weapon that good anyway, but the plain truth is that looks are 'bout as accurate a judge of ability and character as the voters who elect our politicians. Well, maybe not even that accurate, and we ain't had elections 'round Engineton for a long while anyway. It's been turnin' into a real ghost town. But the Pit Stop is still alive and well. Kickin'...y'all might say. This fine family saloon has its regulars, and passers-through, and even a ghost. But I guess he's more of a town ghost than a saloon ghost. He ain't real particular about his haunts, far as I can tell, because if he was particular he'd be here all the time. We have a solid oak bar that runs halfway around the saloon on the left as you come in, sturdy tables and chair scattered 'round the center of the room that don't break when folks fight or when our saloon girl dances on 'em, bless 'er gorgeous heart. I used to be gorgeous like that, and then I started cookin'. I cook a good meal, and it shows in my figure. I know my drinks too. My pa was real close to his liquor, and he taught me his ways. Well, most of his ways. He never did talk alot about what he did with our old saloon girl upstairs in one of the rooms we rent out to folks for good prices, but I guess I have a fair idea now anyway. I used to play on the spiral staircase that leads up to the second floor, but he wouldn't let me up in the rooms. Said it wasn't safe.

***

That's because it was not safe, and is not safe to this very day. I remember. I, Bradmus Filter the Fourth, was there when her late father and the former Mayor of the fine town of Engineton sallied forth with the saloon girl. I remember the toll his depraved ways took on his wife, and the way she responded to my comforting presence. But that, dear friends, is a story for another time. I remember our former sheriff and his valiant attempts to contain the violence. I remember... I remember when the mine started drying up faster than a riverbed in a drought, and the miners were poor, angry, and quite prone to drinking in excess and engaging in violence to procure their pension. My tragic death was the result of such violence, if you must know. I prefer not to refer to that incident further at this time. It was after all the cause of my current ethereal existence, the source of my shimmering shape, the origin of my frightening form. Put simply, it is why I am now a ghost in a ghost town. Welcome to Engineton, the ghost town, and the story of its final few weeks.

"Red skies at night, sailors delight..or am I getting it wrong? Oh never mind ..which ever it is it's going to be a glorious night tonight!"

I laughed happily as I comtemplated the new outfit the lone seamstress of Engineton had just this afternoon completed for me. It fit perfectly, as well it should have. I'd paid enough for it, and stood through enough fittings.

"And wouldn't the fine lady instructors and students of the Mademoiselle Veltin School for Young Ladies be aghast to see me in it" I addressed my image in the cheval mirror. I had brought it with me when I left the rigors of the civilized East for the freedoms of the 'barbaric' West, but it was not all I brought, but there had been much more that I left behind. Most of it gladly.

Setting the incredibly scanty outfit aside I stepped into the copper hip tubs steaming water. The skinny, scruffy lad that Bertha kept on hand to fetch and carry had blushed when he brought the four heavy pails of water up, even though at the time I was dressed for going out, a tidy day dress of sprigged calico, and nary an ankle or hint of cleavage to be seen. Perhaps it was the sight of my bed, or the dressing table with its pots of rouge and lip balm, vials of perfume and my three daring hats - not a proper bonnet in sight-

Whatever the cause, I had four buckets of hot water to wash me and my hair clean with. Those, plus the four of clear cold well water, made for an indeed heavenly start of a day. The balefull sun would be down in about four hours, plenty of time for even my long hair to dry in the heat of the late afternoon.

"Jonas always did like to watch me brush my hair." I mused as I brushed it's shimmering lenth and noted that it was all but comepletely dry. Picking up a piece of silk I ran the length of my hair through a fold of the cloth, 'polishing' it against the smoothness of the silk, a trick I had learned from my mother's haughty French maid. Then I turned to my pots of rouge and balm. I refused to wear it in the way some did, as bold unnnatural red splotches. When used spareingly it had a much more refined effect and that brought the scantiness of my attire in to much greater contrast.

Which is what I want. I am an actress after all, even if they but call me a Saloon Girl, and looking at my body as I sing and dance is what provides the most entertainment for those who still remain. I'll be moving on soon though, for those who remain are getting mightly uppity and uncivil.

Yes they can look all they like, but not touch, not without my say so. And who I say so is my business and mine alone. And I carry Smauel Colts given right to make it my choice, in both forty one and forty four caliburs. I've practised enough that I'm a good shot too, so I'll kill you quick, if you give me reason.

and they call me Heartless...

William Black sighed as he took a belt of water as he rode. The sun seemed to beating down harder than it usually did as he rode out of the small town. He'd just dragged a local man back to his shotgun wedding. William, hating being called Bill, Billy or most of the derivations of his name, hadn't lived up to his nickname as 'The Butcher', but it had helped as the poor groom had given up running from the baby he'd fathered as soon as he'd pointed The Butcher LeMat at him.

As he tapped his horse on the lightly flanks, disdaining to utilize spurs, he wondered what kind of criminals were infesting the town he was headed to, and if the little one hitching post town of Engineton had criminals hiding there that could be dragged in for a reward at the county seat, or maybe a cute gal who's company he could enjoy. The last town hadn't had either, just an irate father and a runaway groom. As he returned the waterskin to where he stored it, he muttered to his horse, "Hopefully this Engineton will have a barbers." The horse just flicked a disinterested ear at him, while he scowled as he felt the stubble. It itched something fierce and he'd always felt detracted from his appearence, something he was mildly vain about, and he'd always felt the women appreciated that extra touch. His shirt could do with a decent scrubbing as well as it'd accumulated a goodly amount of grime and dirt since last it was cleaned.

A few days of light riding later, he caught sight of the town and headed in, noticing the saloon, which appeared to making it's way toward decript. The whole town seemed to have a similiar feel, as if it was past it's hayday. Watering, then tying his horse to the hitching post, he noticed with a faint grin it was the only one in sight. He stretched hearing a few joints pop and crack, dusted himself off, and hefted his trusty '76 onto his shoulder. With a broad smile he headed in to the saloon.

"My shoes look just perfect with the new outfit" I half sang to my watching calico cat as I twirled one last time in front of the cheval mirror. The fine kidskin demiboots laced up the side and accented my trim ankles just so. They seemed to flow seamlessly into the opaque black silk stockings that ran up my calves, over my knees and up my thighs - with the eyecatching crystal studded red lace garter I wear provacatively on my left limb -to disappear under the black fringe of the scandalously short skirt of deep crimson satin. I had comissioned it to contrast with the black satin corset with its crimson fringe.

Pleased as punch with the way I looked, and having broken my fast on one of Bertha's marvelous meals, I gathered up the empty dishes and scampered down the back stairs. "Thank you" I caroled out to Bertha as I gave the dishes to the blushing once again scullery boy.

"I ccc..c.coulda come got that" He blurted as he took the tray from me.

Ignoring him I took a peek out through the just my height knot hole - it gave me such a perfect view of most of the public room. And Bertha would a mentioned if some one was private up stairs. Being an employee she treated me like family almost, and I could not thank her enough. Sometimes it's hard being a lone female out here. Especially when one had defied conventions and not settled down right and proper with a husband. I had my fill o' that notion though and come to love my independance. I may love men but I refuse to give me back over to their control.

The creak of the saloon's swinging half door, and sudden flare of outdoor light near blinded me as some one entered the public room. I couldn't see him mostly, as the light was still bright outside, but the shape of him wasn't familiar to me. "Oh a stranger has come to town" I breathed half to myself - this was an all to rare treat of late. Hopefully he'd be presentable, and not some sodbuster stinking of weeks without a bath or clean clothes. I could tell he didn't have a heavy beard, and that he carried a rifle over his shoulder, but little more.

I'd make my big entrance in a bit, coming down the front spiral stairs all slow and sultry like, I decided as I returned up the back stairs to my room and looked for my favorite scent. Just a touch in honor of the newcomer.

http://www.atddm.com/chas.jpghttp://www.atddm.com/heartless1.jpg

William walked into the saloon, his rifle shoulded and a slight swagger to his step. He knew he was getting looks from the regulars, but they probably hadn't seen a new face in weeks, or maybe even months. It wouldn't hurt to give them a cheap thrill and as long as it they didn't take objection to his presence, he wouldn't take objection to thier ogling. As it was he likewise looked them over, but with the difference in lighting from the noon-day sun when constrasted with the relative dimness of the tavern, he didn't get all that good a look at the patrons. He could also tell that there was a stage for a saloon girl, a fact that brought a smile to his lips.

Looking at the bartender he noticed with a bit of surprise it was a lady, something that wasn't entirely common in these parts and days. She seemed to have been a bit of a beauty in the past but too much tasting of the cook's cooking had taken it's toll. Walking over to the bar, he took a seat at a stool and propping the Winchester on the floor within easy reach, he looked at the lady behind the counter and tipped his hat.

"Miss, you wouldn't be the proprietress of this establishment by any chance?" He asked with a hint of charm, "If so might I request the cost of a whiskey and a meal, the price of a room and if it's not to much trouble, does this town have a barber?"

Bertha smiled her widest smile at the rugged man, and cited the prices as asked. They were cheaper than most places of similar quality, a necessity given the economic circumstances of Engineton, and unlike many bartenders, Bertha wasn't one to charge extra for folks that wouldn't know any better.

"Well now. A barber, ya say? We got one, but he's liable to not be in a way where he can help you any. If you really need one bad you can go over to the barber shop and see if he's there. He haunts the place some days, and if he's in a good mood he might do right by you."

"Thank you kindly." He replied as he raised his eyebrow slightly as she seemed to be implying that the barber was no longer living, and was in fact a ghost. "If it's no trouble may I purchase a meal and drink as well as rent a room for the night." As he asked, he removed his felt hat of the kind that was worn by the Confederate Cavalry, and more specifically of the Cavalry under Brigadier-General Nathaniel Forrest.

As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin capable to cover the bill. Looking around, he wondered what the general finacial state of Engineton was and whether a luckless brigand, conniving card-shark or a greedy buisness person would be the first to try and lighten his purse. If it was a brigand they'd be very unlucky to be facing down his LeMat, he'd enjoy sharking the shark, and if the buisness person was the proprietress of the saloon, a show girl or perhaps even a prostitute then they would likely fare better than a general merchant or blacksmith would.

What a day. Sam Brennan ran a hand through his hair wearily, then fingered the Marshal's star pinned to the inside of his vest. Some things were best not displayed, as a matter of personal safety. This he had learned through experience even before joining up with the Marshals. The twenty-something, fresh out of training Marshal patted his horse reassuringly on the shoulder and holstered his rifle on the saddle.

Behind him, the wagon was reduced to bloody splinters of wreckage. The mail carrier lay dead, shot in the face by rogues who had set upon them only minutes ago. The bandits escaped seemingly unscathed despite the brief shootout. Sam now found himself with limited ammo, and a wound to the shoulder that while not terribly serious, was sure to bring problems down the road.

Sam tried his best to ignore the throbbing fire in his shoulder as he rooted through the wagon for anything that might have survived the fire fight. Despite a rough disposition, beneath his somewhat small stature there was a female. Sam had been born Samantha, and had recently learned that changing her clothes and modifying her name allowed for far greater freedom and opportunity than a woman could otherwise enjoy. And it was this decision that ultimately led her to this bloody patch of desert, playing guard to a Pony Express wagon. And while it might have been an unfavorable job among the Marshals, it was travel and opportunity she never would have dreamed possible in her old life.

There was one stack of outgoing mail left in the wagon. A very small stack destined for Engineton. Tucking this stack and a few others of outgoing mail they had picked up in other small towns into a satchel, he swung the leather bag over his good shoulder and bid farewell to the late postal worker. It wasn't too far a ride to Engineton from here, but he would be feeling the heat by the time he arrived. Replacing a cowboy hat on his head, he swung up into the saddle of his tobiano paint and urged the gelding into as strenuous a pace as his burning shoulder would allow.

So far so good. The ride had been uneventful, and there seemed to be no sign of the bandits from earlier, although he had expected to hear a firearm's report, or another round slamming into him at any moment. His shoulder had stopped bleeding too, which seemed a definate improvement. Ahead, the small town steadily loomed out of the desert, although progress was not as fast as he would have liked. Worse, the place seemed abandoned.

Undeterred, he rode on and soon found himself within a stone's throw of the main street. The place seemed utterly lifeless. However his faltering spirits lifted upon seeing a single horse hitched outside what could have passed for a saloon. Thank God. At least it meant someone was here, even if they were just another unfortunate traveller.

The saloon actually looked as if it might still be operating. Another good sign. Stiffly, he dismounted and tied his paint a fair distance from the other mount. Wistfully, he touched his face, once again regretting his inability to procure a theatrical mustache. There was nothing to be done about it now, so instead he checked to see that his star was still hidden from sight, retrieved his rifle, and eased into the saloon.

"Mail call..."

Bradmus, enjoying his unobtrusive and insubstantial form, watched from the shadows of a deserted shop as a newcomer entered the town. He was short for a man, and seemed to be injured in some fashion. This piqued the lurking layabout's interest, and he decided to follow the fellow as he entered the saloon. Heads, including the prodigous Bertha's, turned to track his entrance as he held up some letters. Bradmus watched as the big bartender gave another newcomer a key to a room and a drink. Presumably he would be getting a meal as well. That was the way of it, generally. Bradmus shrugged his ghostly shoulders, and floated over to a table to watch the action, certain that action would be occuring quickly with newcomers in town.

Attempting to proceed as naturally as possible, he crossed to the bar. He felt eyes on him, but refused to let it diminish his nerve. It was always hard appearing in a new place, especially without the glaring badge to stave off questions. However until he assessed the locals, it seemed wise to appear confident and unassuming... without the authority of law to back it up. He lay the stack of letters before the apparant proprietress.

"Good day, ma'am.. Could you help me locate any of these recipients?"

Sam tried for his best apologetic smile. Working as a mail escort, he had only picked up a little of how the mail system operated. Asking seemed as easy a method as any for delivery.

William accepted his drink and paid in good hard cash to cover his meal and room. Seeing the saloon door swing open, he naturally turned to look at who had arrived. It looked like a youngish man who happened to be carrying a rifle in one hand and what looked like a mailbag. Pony express got raided again. Might mean there's some work to be had in this town rather than it just being a stop in the road.

As the man made his way to the bar, he took a closer look at the postal officer. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but he coun't quite put his finger on it. With a shrug and a drink of his whiskey and hoped something would jog his memory.

I found myself yawning as I sat in the warmth of my room. It faced the back of the saloon, for greater privacy, but at times it left me wondering what was going on out in what passed for the town square. "It'll take the handsome stranger over an hour if he goes to the barber shop quick like. Why that gives me the time for a beauty nap!"

I took off my demi boots and lay down atop the faded softness of the old quilt that I used as a bedspread. Patches moved over just enough to give me just enough room. "You old thing. You'd take up all of it if I let you." I scruffled her ears and chucked her under her softly furred chin.

Attempting to proceed as naturally as possible, he crossed to the bar. He felt eyes on him, but refused to let it diminish his nerve. It was always hard appearing in a new place, especially without the glaring badge to stave off questions. However until he assessed the locals, it seemed wise to appear confident and unassuming... without the authority of law to back it up. He lay the stack of letters before the apparant proprietress.

"Good day, ma'am.. Could you help me locate any of these recipients?"

Sam tried for his best apologetic smile. Working as a mail escort, he had only picked up a little of how the mail system operated. Asking seemed as easy a method as any for delivery.

Bertha smiled benignly at the boy, patted her apron-covered belly, and replied, "Sure, honey. I'll even take care of 'em for you. That's how our mail delivery works in Engineton. Would ya like a drink or two while you're here, sir?"

She thought he looked awful young compared to most of the men who came delivering mail, but age had never stopped her from offering a fellow a drink. She also watched Bradmus out of the corner of her eye. That ghost was never up to any good anymore.

"Why thank you, ma'am. I ain't too clear on the particulars of the mail system. I ain't a postman, you see."

He sank onto a nearby barstool gratefully. The woman's hospitality was taking the edge of his uneasiness. And while it hadn't completely faded, it was down to a manageable level. A healthy level, he supposed. Just enough to keep the senses sharpened without appearling too jumpy. He had noticed that the bar kept a decent stock, and that the saloon's interior seemed well cared for, if slightly past its prime. Perhaps this town wasn't quite as run down as he had previously thought. That question would have to wait, however. He set the rifle down, allowing the barrel to lean against the inside of his leg, where it would be close at hand should the need arise.

"I could stand a whiskey, if'n it's not too much trouble."

William moved his Winchester to the other side so it'd be on the far side from the mailboy. After draining the whiskey, he tipped his hat to the bartenderess. "I'll be back for the meal and to take a rest after a visit to the barber ma'am."

After finding out the location of the barber's shop, he tipped his hat to the woman and got off the bar stool while looking at the mailboy he hoisted his '76 and headed out. Passing by his horse, he dipped his hand in the trough and sprinkled a bit of water on his steed to help cool him down. After his bit of horse care, he carried on to the barber's shop and stepped in while looking for the man.

" 'Afternoon."

Tall. Bloodshot eyes. Broad-shouldered, tree-trunk arms. A round face smothered in a neatly trimmed beard and topped off with short, close-cut hair. He was a grizzly of a man and looked to be a rough customer. But perhaps the loudest indication of his hard-living was the blood that soaked his collared white shirt and covered his two hammer-like fists. His breath wreaked of alcohol and tobacco use. The barbershop wreaked of burnt flesh.

All William had to do was glance around the barbershop once to decipher what had just gone down. Splattered across the cracked barber's mirrors were speckles of blood; every breakable piece in the building had been shattered on the floor. The swivel chairs had been torn out of the ground and hurled into the wall, where the wooden planks had been splintered and cracked. A whimpering dog lay under the wreckage, clearly disturbed from the mayhem that had just been unleashed. But these were hardly the worst.

Laying in the farthest corner of the shop was the body of what appeared to be the barber; his head looked like a smashed watermelon, as there was only half of it left. The other half lay scattered around his body in large chunks of flesh and hair. A pair of massive scissors still wavered back and forth, jammed into his stomach like a flag, as if to say, "I conquered this territory." The tall man, the monster of a man snorted. He knew what William was thinking.

" I asked fer a shave'n he cut me. So I cut 'im back."

"Why thank you, ma'am. I ain't too clear on the particulars of the mail system. I ain't a postman, you see."

He sank onto a nearby barstool gratefully. The woman's hospitality was taking the edge of his uneasiness. And while it hadn't completely faded, it was down to a manageable level. A healthy level, he supposed. Just enough to keep the senses sharpened without appearling too jumpy. He had noticed that the bar kept a decent stock, and that the saloon's interior seemed well cared for, if slightly past its prime. Perhaps this town wasn't quite as run down as he had previously thought. That question would have to wait, however. He set the rifle down, allowing the barrel to lean against the inside of his leg, where it would be close at hand should the need arise.

"I could stand a whiskey, if'n it's not too much trouble."

"Nah. No trouble at all." Bertha smiled again, and it was obvious that her mothering instincts were expressing themselves. The whiskey came out quickly, ready to soothe an aching body or an aching heart, whichever ailment the drinker happened to be suffering.

After helping the other newcomer on his way to the barber shop, Bertha turned her attentions back to the man with the mail who didn't know the mail system. "I'm Bertha. What's your name, mister?"

William moved his Winchester to the other side so it'd be on the far side from the mailboy. After draining the whiskey, he tipped his hat to the bartenderess. "I'll be back for the meal and to take a rest after a visit to the barber ma'am."

After finding out the location of the barber's shop, he tipped his hat to the woman and got off the bar stool while looking at the mailboy he hoisted his '76 and headed out. Passing by his horse, he dipped his hand in the trough and sprinkled a bit of water on his steed to help cool him down. After his bit of horse care, he carried on to the barber's shop and stepped in while looking for the man.

Bradmus' curiosity was piqued when the burly newcomer mentioned needing to know where the barber shop was located. He followed the fellow as he exited the saloon, waited while he watered his horse. Bradmus considered some ghostly mischeif when the man walked away further into the town and neglected to bring his horse along, but preferred to see what opportunities would present themselves at the shop. It was only a few yards and a couple turns away, after all.

"Nah. No trouble at all." Bertha smiled again, and it was obvious that her mothering instincts were expressing themselves. The whiskey came out quickly, ready to soothe an aching body or an aching heart, whichever ailment the drinker happened to be suffering.

After helping the other newcomer on his way to the barber shop, Bertha turned her attentions back to the man with the mail who didn't know the mail system. "I'm Bertha. What's your name, mister?"
"Sam. Sam Brennan."

He smiled amiably, and fingered the glass before tasting the whiskey. Good and strong, just as he liked it. Lately, he couldn't afford to be picky about his drink, so anything really would have tasted heavenly.

"Right fine pleasure makin' yer acquaintance, Bertha."

He raised one hand to touch the brim of his hat, but winced as the gesture reminded him of a wounded shoulder. Thinking quickly, he set down the drink, attempting to play it off as nothing more than the burn of the alcohol kicking in. Continuing the conversation seemed a good idea as well.

"Would I be correct in assumin' you run this place?"

My dream was pleasant, they always were, pleasant to the point of being boringly bland. I never under stood why some here in Engineton were afraid of their dreams and spoke in hushed whispers about the ghost. He'd never bothered me, perhaps because I felt sorry for him being trapped in a dying town like Engineton. We're all gonna move on, sooner probably more like than later, but he's got to stay on here. Thats terribly sad for him, and while there may be a way to get cut him loose, none of my fine Boston education said anything about freeing ghosts.

So with a fine meal of Bertha's excellent cooking, a nice nap late in the day - I would be all set for a rousing evening. Especialy with a new man intown to entertain.

"Sam. Sam Brennan."

He smiled amiably, and fingered the glass before tasting the whiskey. Good and strong, just as he liked it. Lately, he couldn't afford to be picky about his drink, so anything really would have tasted heavenly.

"Right fine pleasure makin' yer acquaintance, Bertha."

He raised one hand to touch the brim of his hat, but winced as the gesture reminded him of a wounded shoulder. Thinking quickly, he set down the drink, attempting to play it off as nothing more than the burn of the alcohol kicking in. Continuing the conversation seemed a good idea as well.

"Would I be correct in assumin' you run this place?"

"Much obliged, Sam." Bertha flashed the boy another of her benign motherly smiles. "I do run the place, it's true. Have been for years now, ever since my paw died and left it to me. I'd be happy to show ya around and make ya comfortable if you'll be stayin' on in Engineton fer the night." She gestured to the stairs that led to the rooms that could be used for travellers.

William looked at the man with a blood soaked shirt and hands who reeked of alcohol and tobacco. The man was tall, and from all appearences hadn't bathed in at least a month. Taking in the shop, a bit of a grin graced his face. His last few 'hunts' had required the ne're-do-wells to be dragged back alive, and this man was just asking for it.

Giving the self-confessed murderer an annoyed smile, his hand dropped down to butt of his LeMat pistol. With the flick of his thumb, a well practiced move, he shifted the pistol's hammer from the .42 bullets to the underslung smoothbore barrel containing the .63 buckshot.

Drawing the gun in a smooth motion, he pulled the trigger, discharging the round at nigh point-blank range. As he did so, he commented, "Say hello to Old Nick for me."

The buckshot would tear into chest and gut, leaving the flesh and bone remince of hamburger meat. The man who'd be thrown back and join his victem in the embrace of burtal death.

The thunder like clap of the LeMat going off jolted me from my peacefull dreams, and I found myself sitting up wondering the a storm had broken. A quick glance past the lace curtains of my window showed the sun low in the sky but still bright and not a cloud in sight.

"Now did some one just get killed then?" I asked my calico cat who had jumped in fright herself. She just looked at me as the fur along her spine slowly settled. Once she'd given herself a quick lick of her shoulder and stretched she leaped to the window sill and flowed out into the long shadows that the slanting sun threw.

"Tell me what you find." I called after her and shivered, though I had no idea why. I stretched, myself, and sat on the edge of the bed. There was little to do as I waited for evening and so went to my dressing table, planning to spend some of the time brushing my golden locks until they flowed smoothly down my shoulders.

However, like my cat I am curious and after a few strokes I threw the brush down. "I just have to know!" I said aloud as I wrapped my dressing gown about me and slipped my demi boots back on.

"Much obliged, Sam." Bertha flashed the boy another of her benign motherly smiles. "I do run the place, it's true. Have been for years now, ever since my paw died and left it to me. I'd be happy to show ya around and make ya comfortable if you'll be stayin' on in Engineton fer the night." She gestured to the stairs that led to the rooms that could be used for travellers.
"I wasn't intending to stay, but the idea isn't such a bad one."

He followed her gesture, complimenting the look with a swallow of whiskey. However the visual appraisal was short lived. A firearm's report pulled his gaze toward the doorway, eyes searching the space there in a trained reflex. His eyes confirmed a delayed reasoning that the gunman was a little ways distant, and therefore not an immediate danger.

"...that happen often around here?"

The gunfire hadn't frightened him so much as taken him by surprize. He was still green when it came to field experience, but not so much as to be jumpy. Only minutes ago he had dismissed the town as nearly deserted. It was a lesson against hasty judgement.

I tripped down the spiral stair case, looking around the saloon expectantly. The only newcomer there was tired looking man who seemed to be little mroe than a boy. There were no signes of violence about, but the shot hadn't come from down here.

"Do you think the sheriff..." I let my voice trail off as I looked at Bertha - there really was no reply to my comment. I wasn't frightened of the sheriff but I loathed him passionately. He was a mean, cruel man who had nothing but a big gun, willingness to back shoot and a adeptness for violence to keep him in power.

I noticed the stack of mail, and hoped some of it was for me. Bertha nodded and handed me most of the think pile. I had four thick letters and I couldn't hide the smile that crossed my face. "Thank you Bertha. But I didn't hear the Wagon come in. Did something happen?" I looked at the young stranger curiously.

I tripped down the spiral stair case, looking around the saloon expectantly. The only newcomer there was tired looking man who seemed to be little mroe than a boy. There were no signes of violence about, but the shot hadn't come from down here.

"Do you think the sheriff..." I let my voice trail off as I looked at Bertha - there really was no reply to my comment. I wasn't frightened of the sheriff but I loathed him passionately. He was a mean, cruel man who had nothing but a big gun, willingness to back shoot and a adeptness for violence to keep him in power.

I noticed the stack of mail, and hoped some of it was for me. Bertha nodded and handed me most of the think pile. I had four thick letters and I couldn't hide the smile that crossed my face. "Thank you Bertha. But I didn't hear the Wagon come in. Did something happen?" I looked at the young stranger curiously.
Sam looked up as a new face entered from the direction of the staircase. It was a saloon girl.. He made a quick mental note to avoid any overtones of flirtation, just to be on the safe side. Playing the role of Sam was one thing. Becoming it entirely was another.

"That's on account of there was no wagon. There was an attack. Mail man got shot dead, so I figured I may as well finish his route."

"That's on account of there was no wagon. There was an attack. Mail man got shot dead, so I figured I may as well finish his route."

I looked at him with wide eyes. "Why thats very brave and very kind of you. The mail means a lot to us.." I paused a second, thinking furiously. He looked very young and small but if her was brave enough to take on finisheing the route...

"Woul you come with me? I'd like to know what's happened, but I'd rather not go alone." I knew that none of the regulars would accompany me for fear of the sherriff, and Bertha bless her brave heart shouldn't risk the saloon by being at my side if I had to keep the promise I had once made the sheriff. A promise to kill him if he ever touched me.

"I'd be happier knowin' the particulars of what I'm gettin' myself into, but I'll tag along as your gun hand."

He finished the whiskey, noting that already it was taking the edge off the pain in his shoulder. Mechanically he tipped his hat to Bertha and stood.

"If you'd excuse me, miss Bertha."

He laid a few coins on the bar, hoping they would suffice, and gathered up his rifle.

I know I shouldn't be venturing out in just a dressing gown, why I'd be a nine day talk of the twon but going back up and putting on a day dress would take forever. I shrugged mentally, it asn't as if there were many 'good' women areound to snicker and snub me. Bertha was the best of my sex about and they snickered and snubbed her too, she who'd never done a thing to deserve it. Save that to some noses in the air running a saloon was enough.

I headed out the saloons swinging doors at a brisk walk. As loud as the gun shot had been in my back room, made me think that it had come from the barber shop or maybe the small laundry nect to it. I bustled to the cross street and turned toward the two shops. A few other people had ventured into the dusty street but weren't getting to close to either storefront.

"It's the barber shop Miss Chastity. The Sheriff was in there..I...I hear a fight, a big fandango, much breaking and pain of cries. A new man he go in an' bang, big bang!" Ciciero spoke up in his broken english and pointed with a trembling hand towards the barber's establishment.

William looked around the ruined barbershop with a frown. He was annoyed, and slightly sad at the fact that the barber had been slain and was thus unable to barber him, but then shrugged, what was done was done afterall and the killer punished.

Walking out of the shop, he began chambering another buckshot round into his pistol, after switching the hammer back to the bullet barrel. As such he failed to noticed that a few people had come out to look at what happened as he headed back to the saloon. He also wondered if he'd be able to find someone else who could handle the job, preferably an attractive woman.

"Sir, Sir... Is the sheriff in there?" I called out as I saw the stanger, a handsome man at that if more than a little trail dusty and in need of a shave, leave the shop as he reloaded his gun.

"Cicero says that that no good back shooting deviant we were forced to call a sheriff was beating some one up in there." I said boldly though I was in no way inclinded to go take a look in the barber shop.

I had the horrid feeling that there was more than just one dead body in there. And the barber was a timid fellow who would never knowingly hurt a fly.

He looked up at the woman's voice and saw the rather attractive woman in a bit of a state of undress. "Yes the sheriff is within, or rather the late sheriff. Unfortunately the barber is also among the recently departed." He commented as he looked over and also noticed the mail guard was with her.

He finished loading the pistol without looking at it, a move that bespook long familiarity with the weapon and holstered it.

I hurried after the stranger, more than a litttle iritated that he hadn't bothered to slow down or even stop as he answered my question.

"You killed him becasue he killed the barber? My heavens, I was beginning to wonder if he would ever get what he had comming. He has killed more than just the barber. He killed the old sheriff, and the Mayor too."

Though to be honest I had to add. "Or so is believed. It has never been proved."

I caught up with him as he reached the swinging doors of the saloon "Might I ask your name brave sir?"

William slowed down slightly to stop before the saloon, and turned to look at the lady again, "Yes, that was the general what happened. I take it the man was rather not well liked, but perhaps this conversation might better take place within the relative comforts of the saloon." He replied

Stepping forward slight, he held the door open for her and added, "My name, good lady, is William Black."

"My name, good lady, is William Black."

I gave him a warm smile, and was amazed to find my eye lashes flutterin' at him. Oh not the deliberate fake ones to hold a cowhands attention and get him to buy another round, but the real, involuntary ones that the eyes give a man they like looking at. I could have blushed in mortification, if I hadn't learned to control that a long time ago. Still a faint flush stained my cheeks.

"I'm called Heartless, and I entertain here at the Pit Stop" I stepped through the door he had held open in so gentlemanly a fashion. I didn't know why I felt I couldn't give him my real name, though my stage name is very important to me and I'd chosen it after much deliberation.

He had such nice manners, and he was obviously courageous enough to take on and remove our much despised sheriff.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Mister William Black," I called out loudly to catch everyones attention." "and he found our miserable excuse of a sheriff, Earl Barker, having just committed the murder of Jacob, our only remaining barber. And carried out a just execution. A drink for Mister Black, Bertha, he deserves it for freeing us from that terror!" I said rouseingly as I slipped my arm though his and led him towards the bar.

Sam's face hardened as he stood back and listened to the conversation between the woman and the other stranger without comment. Something didn't sit well with him about the situation. It was vigilante justice, and while that wasn't unheard of out here and was anything but uncommon, it was still murder. Fingering the Marshal star inside his vest, he watched the two head back to the saloon, and made his own path instead into the barber shop. This would merit investigation one way or another. If he needed to take action against the other stranger, he knew where to find him.

William looked at the woman and her smile and felt a faint flutter in his gut. It wasn't often he saw such a beautiful smile directed at him, especially after he'd slain a criminal. Most women who found him attractive were generally turned off by death.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Heartless." He replied, a faint questioning inflection on the 'Miss', as he followed her into the saloon that he now knew the name of.

Her announcement of his actions caused him to blush as he wasn't use to such displays. He did allow her to slip her arm through his and to be led to the bar, slightly bemused at the whole affair. He'd simply gone to get a shave and now appeared to be getting the hero's treatment.

It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Heartless."

I caught the questioning tone behind the Miss, and my cheeks dimpled. "Yes it's Miss. and youdon't know the true favor you've done Engineton! We were all living in fear of that viscious tyrant, a bully and ..." I didn't want to use the ugly word aloud and sought for a second for something that would convey the meaning. Setteling on the words I lowered my voice so that it didn't reach much past his ears. Despite the fact that evrey one in Engineton knew what he was and had done, still a little dignitiy should be preserved. And Mr. Black did not look like the type to go blareing ugly truths forth at the drop of a stetson. "A molester of men and women."

Most of us left here in Enginton weren't of the bottom to take a human life unless the direest of circumstances arose and there was no shame in that. However it had left us victimized by louts such as Earl Barker.

Then there ws the added fact that all his outlaw friends would come calling on us if one of us were foolish enough to harm their boon companion. He sold his protection to whom every could afford it and there were several outlaw camps in the area. Fortuantely none of his cronies had been in town this day.

"Have you eaten yes Mr. Black? Bertha here is the most marvelous cook. Plese let me buy you dinner." oh my this isn't like me at all. I found myself thinking as we came up to the bar and Bertha began to pour him a drink.I must be more purely relieved than I realized ... but he is handsome, and brave, and even all trail dusty I like his scent, I'd bet he'd be just a armfull all warm and clean from a hot bath and a shave.

Bertha had largely ignored the gunshots and the following commotion, as it wasn't likely to be any of her business. Her business was in the saloon, and that was that, as far as she was concerned. When the folks that had left returned to the saloon, she made sure they were well cared for, and eventually asked if everything was alright. "Are any of y'all injured?" She would be happy to provide them with whiskey to ease the pain and clean the wound if they were.

you lazy wench! dont you dare try and contradict me!!
A moment later the sound of a smack filled the dusty room of the house as William smacked Charlotte, her gray eyes filled with tears as her cheek bloomed bright red.
I warned you girl!!!
Williams drunken voice roared after her. Fighting back tears Ella backed out of the room carful to not turn her back till she was out of her fathers sight. she paused in the hall and looked in the mirrior that hung there; the red on her cheek had faded slightly but not enough for it to be unnoticeable. sighing she fixed the few pins that had sliped out of the knoted bun she wore her hair in. Another glance in the mirrior, by now the slap mark had faided but her blackened right eye remained the same as it had been 3 nights ago when William had hit her right befor passing out. Ella turned to see the man stumbling his way down the hall towards her, she flinched and hurried out the door. The street was empty save for a person here or there, all headed out of town. She picked up her skirts and walked to the saloon. She detested the idea of the place but it was a safe zone of sorts. Braceing herself Ella steped through the door and looked around- it was the typical crowd, in its self that was a releaf; carfuly she made her way throught the room and stoped at the bar.
"After noon Ma'm"
she said softly addressing Bertha
"Mr. Kaynard would like me to pick up a bottle of the best you have..."
once she finished speeking she looked down at her feet.

William smiled slightly at the confirmation of Miss Heartless's marital status as while didn't hold anything against adulterers, he didn't wish to join thier ranks. He raised his eyes at the allegation that the former sheriff was a pervert onto of murderer, but only for a second as he listened to Heartless continue.

"That's kind of you, but I've already paid for my supper and I've known a few too many tavern owners to know they dislike parting with more coin than necessary, but I'd be honoured if you'd join me." He replied as he took the beverage. As he took a drink, he looked at her in a somewhat less clinical light than before, admiring her beauty.

As another lady came in, sporting a blackened eye, he looked at Heartless and raised an eyebrow as if asking if the sheriff had been responsible. He also asked her, "So what is Enginton going to do for a new sheriff?"
He then turned to Bertha and replied, "I'm fine."

but I'd be honoured if you'd join me."

My eyes lit up, as did my smile, at his offer. I'd had a filling lunch but a light supper wouldn't be amiss and spending it with William sounded wonderful.

"Thank you I think I will." I repleidd as I led him over to the table I normally sat at during my breaks. It wasn't sunset yet so I still had time to myself.

My eyes went hard as Charlotte came in and I knew that William was thinking that it was more of the deceased Sheriffs work. Every one knew about her father and his drunken rages. I shook my head slightly and lowered my voice again. "Her father seeks too much solace in the bottle and takes it out on her in his weakness. I wish she would leave him, but there is no place for her to go. She is a 'respectable' woman and it shames her to be even seen entering the saloon. She would rather live wiht his anger and blows that live here."

I had been respectable once, and knew the folly, or so I felt it was, of clinging to something that hurt you endlessly. I was freeer and happier now, but I also knew the price one paid, especially if one were a woman. I also knew that said freedom was not for every woman. It had to be each ones choice.

"So what is Enginton going to do for a new sheriff?"


"I don't know. No one with any authority to make or unmake a sherriff has visited us in oh a coon's age. We don't even have a mayor any longer. I'm afraid that Enginton is dieing. The mines played out, there are no big ranches about to keep numerous hired hands, the lands here about aren't the type for farming either." I looked down at my hands, noticing that I was absent mindedly rubbingthem together, a sure sign that I was distressed. I also found myself saying far more than perhaps I should have. "I've saved up money, I'd love to start a saloon or theater of my own, but I just don't feel right about leaving Bertha. She has been so good to me. I just don't know if I should go!" I said before falling silent as dinner appeared.

The skivvy serving boy brought over a tray with plates and bowls. Bertha's best baked chicken, beaten potatoes, fresh sting beans, and fluffy biscuits. And rich gravy to top it all. I'd forgo the potatoes and gravy, but the chicken and string beans were enough to fill me up. Especially with a biscuit topped with butter and dark honey as a dessert.

He returned her smile at her acceptance of his request for her to join him for dinner as they walked to a table, and one from appearences was Heartless's regular.

He shook his head slightly as he listened, This town seems to be falling apart at the seams. A deviant ex-sheriff, generally run down, an abusive father, ok that one is not that unusual.

"That would present a problem." He commented as he listened to the problems of the town. It sounds like it might time for the town's people to start preparing to move, of course many towns are full of people who are stubborn and cling to thier towns till they are starved out. "Why don't you see about joining Bertha in running this saloon, or perhaps work together to set up one in another township?"

He looked over the food with just a little bit more than a passing interest as it looked close to heavenly, especially as cornmeal and jerky with the occasional amounts of bacon and beans was his usual fair. He began eating in a manner, that those in high society would find uncouth, but was quite neat all told. He full well intended to have what could only be called a hearty meal.

you lazy wench! dont you dare try and contradict me!!
A moment later the sound of a smack filled the dusty room of the house as William smacked Charlotte, her gray eyes filled with tears as her cheek bloomed bright red.
I warned you girl!!!
Williams drunken voice roared after her. Fighting back tears Ella backed out of the room carful to not turn her back till she was out of her fathers sight. she paused in the hall and looked in the mirrior that hung there; the red on her cheek had faded slightly but not enough for it to be unnoticeable. sighing she fixed the few pins that had sliped out of the knoted bun she wore her hair in. Another glance in the mirrior, by now the slap mark had faided but her blackened right eye remained the same as it had been 3 nights ago when William had hit her right befor passing out. Ella turned to see the man stumbling his way down the hall towards her, she flinched and hurried out the door. The street was empty save for a person here or there, all headed out of town. She picked up her skirts and walked to the saloon. She detested the idea of the place but it was a safe zone of sorts. Braceing herself Ella steped through the door and looked around- it was the typical crowd, in its self that was a releaf; carfuly she made her way throught the room and stoped at the bar.
"After noon Ma'm"
she said softly addressing Bertha
"Mr. Kaynard would like me to pick up a bottle of the best you have..."
once she finished speeking she looked down at her feet.

"Oh honey! I'll get a bottle of the best stuff that man'll ever have, and you just have a seat right quick and I'll take care of everythin' that needs it." Bertha busied herself, bustling about behind the bar, and picked out a bottle that would leave Mr. Kaynard without his faculties for a few days. She also hand-picked some food, her fat hands moving swiftly and making sure that there was plenty of food there for both father and daughter. That black eye on the poor darling girl would have some time to heal with her old man out like a light. Once all the food was packed, Bertha assured poor Ella that she could stay in the saloon as long as she wanted, and that she would have someone deliver William his special bottle. Where is that damn pretentious ghost?

The inside of the barber shop was a mess. Pulling a kercheif from his pocket, Sam allowed his rifle to rest just inside the door while holding the cloth to his face. The carnage seemed explanatory enough. One shot, two bodies. And the second was certainly not at the doing of any mere firearm. That much was plainly evident. He crouched beside the still form of the former Sheriff, visually examining the body. He did the same for what was left of the barber. Feeling a little green around the gills, he stood and retreated to his weapon. Killing a Sheriff.. the stranger would take some watching. Before leaving he draped each body with a barber's cloth, covering their faces and as much of their wounds as possible. It only seemed civil. He removed the Sheriff's badge and slipped the item into a vest pocket.

This accomplished, he fingered his own star again, drawing strength from the cold bit of metal. Sam attempted to compose himself as he retrieved the weapon, and made his way back to the saloon. Maybe whiskey could wash the taste of revulsion away.

"Why don't you see about joining Bertha in running this saloon, or perhaps work together to set up one in another township"

"I'd like to ask her to move with me and be partners in a town that's not just up and tumbleweeding away, but her parents built this saloon, and I don't think I could get her to leave. She is a wiz bang bartender and this's her fine cooking we're eating." I told William as I too tucked into the savory food. His manners might not have fit in with my parents dinner guests, but they were far better than many I'd seen. Heavens my own wouldn't pass my mother's muster any more And I did like a man with a hearty appetite.

"Oh honey! I'll get a bottle of the best stuff that man'll ever have, and you just have a seat right quick and I'll take care of everythin' that needs it." Bertha busied herself, bustling about behind the bar, and picked out a bottle that would leave Mr. Kaynard without his faculties for a few days. She also hand-picked some food, her fat hands moving swiftly and making sure that there was plenty of food there for both father and daughter. That black eye on the poor darling girl would have some time to heal with her old man out like a light. Once all the food was packed, Bertha assured poor Ella that she could stay in the saloon as long as she wanted, and that she would have someone deliver William his special bottle. Where is that damn pretentious ghost?
Charlotte took a seat on one of the stools while Bertha put together some food and looked timidly around the bar while fiddling with the pearl buttons on her white kid skin gloves, they had been a gift from an over eager suitor at school. The bar girl sat at a back table with a stranger, a few others sat here or there nursing stiff drinks; it was a seen she knew would make her old head mistress fall into a dead faint. Ella smiled slightly at the thought, if it wasn’t for that old crone I would be stuck in the dusty place forever . However the thought quickly passed as Bertha set the food before her.
“Thank you ma'm, I appreciate your offer but I should be getting home..." the words were not quite forced but it was a mechanical response. She smiled softly and curtsied and then picked up the basket and walked back out the saloon doors putting everything she had learned and finishing school to use. However once she was out of sight she dropped her perfect carriage and dragged her feet back up the hill home. The old man was passed out, after setting the basket down in the hall she dragged him up on to the couch and covered him with a blanket, knowing that she had a few hours she walked back to town and stopped at the hitching post to giving the horses there a slice of apple, she had nothing to do and did not want to go back to the saloon so she stayed out and whispered quietly to the now dozing animals, telling them the old gossip from school.

"That makes sense, those with roots find it hard to uproot them afterall. I have to say she sure is one of the finest cooks I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." He replied as he looked at Heartless again as they began eating the food.

Sam slowed as he approached the saloon again. A girl was standing outside talking to his horse. She seemed a bit.. repressed, somehow. In any case the horses did not seem to mind any. They were sleeping in fact, ears flicking at the occassional fly reflexively. Changing his course somewhat, he came up beside the horse.

"I'm afriad he ain't much of a conversationalist."

Charlotte startled slightly and almost instictivly took a half step back away from the hittching rail, she looked up at the young man that stood along side the horse and nodded slightly befor looking a way keeping her eyes on the ground.

She seemed skittish and shy. Sam relaxed his stance, standing casually beside the horse without approaching. He patted the mount along its flank affectionately. This woke the horse up a bit, but he seemed content to let his head hang.

"Everything alright, Miss?"

She looked up at him and nodded again answering quietly,"yes sir everything is fine." Charlotte compsed her self," you just startled me." Ella looked away, she know that by now he had seen the blackend eye and that it would lead to questions, inside she wished for the courage to be able to one day stand up to her father and for a way to escap the humiliation that he caused her.

As he got a decent look at her face, the timidity suddenly made sense. However he spared her any questioning, and chose instead not to comment. He pat the horse again on the hip and shifted his weight to a more confident stance.

"You look as if you could stand a good meal. Would you do me the honor, miss?"

I nodded as I cut into into the baked chicken, then took a dainty mouthfull of er very tasty green beans, spiced with bits of onion and bacon. I could handle the basics of cooking, but Bertha's meals would put my mothers fancy French chef to shame.

We ate in comfortable silence. I could see that Mr. Black had been hungry for real cooking for some time and I smiled inside. Perhaps he might be persuaded to stay for a time as town sheriff, if Bertha's cooking came as part of the salary.

"I'm sorry you arrived in town just at such a time as to be troubled with that incident. Bertha is usually willing to provide her copper bath tub and lots of hot water for a modest fee, and I have a large mirror that you would be most welcome to use for shaving if you would care to." I wouldn't be so forward as to offer my skills as a barber.

William enjoyed the food as he and Heartless eat in comfort and peace. He tried to think of the last time he'd had food of this quality before realizing he couldn't remember ever eating better.

"If I hadn't then worse might have happened." He replied, "Especially if he was even a tenth as vile as you said. The bath would be most appreciated and I thank you for the offer of your mirror, but the last time I attempted to shave myself, I came within an inch of slitting my own throat."

As he confessed that he blushed slightly as he hadn't intended to admit his inability to shave without ending up awash with nicks and cuts, and especially not to Heartless.

I caught Williams blush and I found it immensely charmin, so much so that I found myself willing to share a some of the past I was normally so retecient concerning. My voice was low, carrying no further than his ears.

"Mr. Black,...my marriage was annuled. Jonas and I were wed at noon and by the time of reception he recieved entirely unexpected orders to deploy immediately to his regiment. He was invalided out ten weeks. He..." Now it was my turn to blush but I hurried on. "due to the injuries he suffered was unable fulfill his husbandly duties. His children from his first marriage had the standing to have the marriage annuled upon his death." I know Mister Black would hear the quiet but still deep anger in my voice. I shook a little to this day with the force of it, but I was careful, or so I hoped, not to show it. "I took care of Jonas for five years, it made him happy that I learned to shave him. I know I am not near as good a barber as Jacob was but I'm not entirely unskilled. Might I offer my services to save you from the 'nicks and gouges of outrageous shaving'?"

I tried to turn the conversation light again with my poor play on words. I wasn't sure how well I would. It was hard to talk about that time of my life, and the scars that it had left on me, but each time I did it seemed to help a little, to make it easier. Joans had been a good man, weathering his terrible injuries with a undaunted good humor. His avaracious sons from his first marriage were certainly not of the same quality as their father. But that was then and this was now.

As he got a decent look at her face, the timidity suddenly made sense. However he spared her any questioning, and chose instead not to comment. He pat the horse again on the hip and shifted his weight to a more confident stance.

"You look as if you could stand a good meal. Would you do me the honor, miss?"
Charlotte smiled slighly a little shy and was about to answer when she heard her father yell
Charlotte?!! Damn it girl where you've gotten to now!!!
she looked up the street and shuffled her feet
"iam sorry sir....my father...perhaps a little later...i am sorry"
she looked at him apologetically and picked up her skirts so she would not trip and ran up the street and slight hill to the large gray house and vanished through the door way.

As he heard her voice drop, he could tell she was about to say something that was for his ears only, that she was taking him to her confidence. He just wondered what it was, and knew he'd find out shortly.

He listened to her as she spoke of a marriage tragically split apart and subsequently annuled due to the connivences of the children of the first marriage, most likely done out of jealousy or spite. He could tell it angered her still to be betrayed in such a manner.

Realizing she was shifting it to a lighter note, he replied "Or to take razors against a sea of whiskers and by opposing end them? That would be most welcome, thank you." He'd picked up some liturature, mostly by reading by firelight before sleeping as he travelled between towns. William was presently working on Magna Carta, and close to halfway through, though he'd been working on it for close to four months now.

"Or to take razors against a sea of whiskers and by opposing end them? That would be most welcome, thank you."

My smile went even wider. Oh a well read man. And he's here at the Pit Stop for at least the night! I was delighted

"From cheek to cheek, those fields of bountiful whiskers will be gathered into sheaves and harvested." My eye twinkled as I dabbed my lips with my lap linnen and signaled for the kitchen boy to take my well emptied plate.

"And Mr. Black will be needing the tub and four full buckets of hot water, nothing less." I made the order more a friendly request and the youngster all but ran off to get it ready.

"Mr. Black, he'll have that up to your room in no time flat and oce you are all relaxed from your bath I'll be happy to shave you."

He smiled in appreciation of her poetic turn of phrase, though was unsure if she was naturally skilled in the arts known as poetry or adapting as they had done in the beginning.

"Thank you, though I must confess you are spoiling me with the ample hot water, most delicious food, and truely exquisit company." He replied, "It is a shame that the dregs of mankind reside alongside such gems."

"Ah but there are those who say, and with a great measure of truth, that it takes dung to fertilize a garden so that flowers may grow most spectacularly."

I smiled and set my napkin aside as I began to rise from the table. "To shave you properly I'll need to make sure some small towels are steamed, so as to soften your whiskers." I explained, not wanting him to think that I did not enjoy his company. I most purely did, but I also wanted to make sure that every thing would be ready for him to have a most enjoyable experience.

"That sounds most apt, though I've never been one for the botanical arts." He replied as he finished his food and took a drink before wiping his mouth.

"Alright then I shall have the bath first and meet you..." He commented with a questioning inflection as it was against his ethics to invite himself to a woman's chambers, and he wasn't sure where she'd prefer doing it. He looked around for the youngster that Heartless had requested to draw his bath, so he could get directions to the tub.

"At my room, of course. Here let me take you up the back way. Those spiral stairs are nicely dramatic, but the back stairs are easier." I knew that Bertha wouldn't mind me showing him the back stairs, it wasn't as if they were secret.

I led the way through the hot kitchen, where the lad was filling the first two buckets from the huge cauldron of steaming water Bertha kept at the ready. Then to the back landing. I opened the rear door and pointed out the stables visable some distance away. "You can stall your horse there. They will curry him down and feed him for you."

Up the narrow stairs to the servants walk,then out the green door to the main upper hallway.

"If you're an even number your room will be one of the four to the right. If it's an odd number it will be one of the four to the left." I said.

The right hand ones were front side rooms, and while one had a better view of the comings and goings about town they were noisier. The ones toward the rear were quieter.

"My door is the one at the dead end of the hall back there." I nodded towards the door that let to my tiny parlor and even tinier bedroom. "Luke, thats the boy filling the buckets, will be bringing the hip tub to your room any moment now. I await seeing you after your bath."

"Alright." William replied as his mind did a frantic balancing act between the primal reaction to being invited to a woman's chambers, and the rules of behavior that were against reading to much into a friendly gesture. "He'll enjoy it, though I'll have to warn them. He bites."

As they got to the upper floor, he looked at his key. There was a number three etched into the handle. "I'll see you soon then." He replied with a smile at Heartless as he prepare to take his horse to the stable, before returning for his bath and subsequent shave.

"I'll see you soon then."

My dimples flashed "I await with great pleasure!" Now I had hurry of my own. I wanted to get the razor, strop and shaving mug from the barbers shop if they has survived the brutal actions of the now happily dead sheriff.

Once William turned and headed for his horse I hurried to my room to grab a small satchell. Then I headed back down stairs and through the narrow back alley to the rear door of the barber shop. Cautiously I entered the small store room, where the huge stove that Jacob heated his shaving water on took up much of the space. I was pleased to see that there were several razors and strops as well as spare mugs and brushes. Quickly I selected one of each and set them in the satchell. I'd return them later, I wouldn't want to be accused of stealing from the dead.

He headed down and untied his steed from the post and brought him to the stables. Once there, he found the owner of the stables and dickered about the price to mutual satisfaction, including the warning about watching out for the stallion's bite, he headed back to the hotel.

Finding the tub ready, he stripped down so he could wash the dust and trail grime from his body. Taking the brownish lump of soap, he sliced off a small sliver and worked it into foam which he then worked into his hair which he rinsed out after a thirty count, before continuing to get clean.

After he finished, he dressed in a his cleanest shirt and pants to present the best image, and then strapped his belt back on, and locked his door before heading to Heartless's room. Knocking, he asked through the door, "May I enter?"

"May I enter?"

"Why Mister Black, you are most purely welcome within " I chuckled as I opened the door.

I had just set the hand towels into the steaming water that Luke had brought up. Willams hair shown in the lamp light- I could see that he had not only bathed but had troubled himself to wash his hair as well. Even if it ws shor I could give it a good combing while his whiskers softened.

I waved a hand at the armless side chair I had pulled my small table next to. "I've set it out in the center so as to be able to work on you from all the proper angles." I knew that the demure look on my face was too innocent by half, but I could not resist. For some reason Mister William Black made me just a little weak in the knees.

Once he'd settled himself comfortably I took the first of the hot towels and wung them out. "Now tilt your head back just a little." I wrapped the steamy warm towels across the lower half of his face, just like I'd watched the barber who'd taught me how to shave Jonas had done. Then while they sat softening his whiskers I took my comb and began to straighten his hair for him. I liked how the uncommon cut - short for a man out in the wilds of the west- flattered the strength evident in his face. No weak chinline, droopy jowels, or jug ears for Mister Black.

William smiled at Heartless as she opened the door for him. Stepping into her room he looked around as regardless of circumstances, the chambers of the fairer sex were always unusual and interesting, at least to him.

"Whatever you think is best." He replied as he headed over to the chair, but not before catching her the look on her face. He would have called it demure, except for a slight twinkle in her eye and his prior conversations, which had given him the impression that that expression did not make it's presence known often.

Taking his seat, he let her position his head as she wished, so she could work with the greatest ease. "Thank you again for doing this for me."

"Thank you again for doing this for me."

"Tis my pleasure" I replied as I set the comb aside, his hair now a tidy sweep. I poured a dram of hot water into the suds mug and began whisking up a thick creamy lather, and once I had lifted the towels form his face used the soft brush to apply the lather to his cheeks chind and upper neck.

With a bowl of clean water at hand and a two towels over my left forearm I went to careful work with the razor I'd stropped to perfect sharpness. Firmly but 'respectfully' as that long ago barber who'd taught me described the stroke method, I shaved WIlliam Black's face clean of several days worth of whiskers.

I got both sides done and found my self maneuvering trying to get the front of his chin. Jonas had spent good money on a professional barbers chair and it sat higher. Finally I realized how I'd have to place myself and that brought a grin to my lips.

With out a word I faced him and threw my leg over his, like mounting a horse, straddling his legs and sitting, facing him, in his lap. I was glad that I'd chosen the armless chair, allowing me to get nice and close. Wiggling a little to get comfortable, I leant in closer and got that sensitive little area right between a man's upper lip and his nose, then the front of his chin.

That done I leaned back and admired my handiwork, making no move to climb out of his lap. In fact I turned his head, left then right with a gentle hand to make sure I hadn't missed anywhere. Satisfied with the way things were progressing, I rolled my shoulders ever so slighty and my house robe slid off them as I leant forward once again, giving William a perfect chance to look straight down my cleavage.

William held whatever position she put his head in, something he'd learnt made the job of any barber easier as they could position him for the optimal angle. Heartless was a pretty good barber he decided about half-way through as she managed to avoid any nicks, and appeared to be handling all the whiskers, except for a small patch at the front which appeared to be causing her problems.

Seeing her grin in such caused him to blink as it was something he was most certainly not expecting. As such, when she threw her leg over his so she was straddling him in his lap, he proverbially jumped out of his skin while another part of him jumped a bit. The strangness of the situation was doing pretty well to counter Heartless's wiggling but oddness was slowly losing the battle to biology.

While he was strongly tempted to remind her she was sitting on his lap, and it was also the gentlemanly thing to do, he enjoyed and as she had to know where she was and what she was doing to him, decided not to mention it.

Letting her continue her ministrations, he saw her robe slide off her shoulders to pool at the base of the seat, granting him an excellent look at a part of her designed to entice any male within range of sight. Had he less self-control, things would have taken a turn for the worse, but he commented in a tone of admiration, thought it was slightly strained as he was working on supressing the arousal that otherwise threatened to join the admiration, "Thank you very much, Heartless. I can't remember when I've had such a good barber, or a woman as attractive and unique as you in such proximity."

I smiled at his discrete...jump, for I had been looking for such a reaction. Heartless of me I know, but I really wanted to know if he found me desireable. And a more truthful answer than words could ever be. However just to be sure...

"Thank you very much, Heartless. I can't remember when I've had such a good barber, or a woman as attractive and unique as you in such proximity."

'Why thank you William for the compliment. But I need to know one thing. Are you free to extend that admiration beyond words? I don't see a ring on your finger, but not every man who is married does so."

"No, I am not married. Should that event ever come to pass, a ring would grace my finger forevermore, nor would I dishonour it." He replied, his speech drifting into the flowery for a moment before returning to his regular mode.

Save for the fact that he didn't know her intentions, nor his own, he thought he might be staying in Engineton a while longer than he'd been planning.

My smile was wide as I let my lips drop lightly to his.

"Good" I breathed as I initiated a soft kiss, my body pressing against his.

He returned her kiss, lightly enfolding her in his arms. He enjoyed the kiss as he felt her confortable weight, while wondering how she had chosen or gotten the name of Heartless as it did not seem to suit her.

I let the kiss linger as I cuddled into his arms. He was most pleasant to kiss and I didn't want to stop but it was fully dark now and I had to go to work.
Regretfully I broke the kiss and straightened in his lap sighing.

"William, I hope that come closing you are still interested and able to show your admiration." I said directly "I would rather not leave your arms but Bertha and the others are expecting me down stairs to sing, dance, and help keep the hired hands drinking. I don't take just any one to my bed, nor do I for money even then."

I stood, grabbing up the dressing robe and tossing it over the back of my comfortable reading chair. "If you like, you are welcome to stay here. I have a copy of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley's Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus. and some others if you would care to read." I offered.

He smiled a mischevious smile at her, "Nor do I wish you to but if you're expected downstairs, who am I to keep you here. If you do not mind I wouldn't mind watching you work, and perhaps I could help in case things get out of hand." He offered as he figured if her dancing or singing was anything like the rest of her, they would be most enjoyable.

"While I've heard some good words about the book, I am in the process of reading another, so if you would prefere I not watch you, I shall go get that one."

"While I've heard some good words about the book, I am in the process of reading another, so if you would prefere I not watch you, I shall go get that one."

"Oh you are most welcome to come watch me." I replied as I stepped into my tiny bedroom and grabbed the brush from the dressing table. My hair for some reason become slightly mussed and needed to be tidied.

"However should you become bored, please feel free to wait here. But you go on now and I'll be down in just two shakes of a lamb' tail!"

"Thank you." He replied with a broad smile. "I shall meet you downstairs then."

Heading downstairs, he felt his cheek and it's smoothness and smiled, Heartless really was one of a kind.

I hastily made sure that my hair and make up were perfect, and that my outfit snugged up against me just so. I wanted to look extra special tonight as I descended the spiral staircase. I looked out the bedroom window, whistling softly to catch Lukes attention.

He came scampering out from the back room and gaped up at me.

'Go wind up my music box, and set it to play the second song" I ordered.

He disappeared in a flash. Few were allowed to touch the most valuable thing I owned, a Swiss music box that Jonas had given me as a wedding present. It was a finely crafted box of rose wood with ivory inlay on the top and it's cylinder had a dozen selections on it. It wasn't as versatile as a player piano- I'd seen such just before I'd come west but hadn't been able to afford one at the time, given that Jonas's sons had left me in penury with their legal maneuverings.

The second selection was the music to a song I enjoyed singing "The Cavalier". It seems to start so sadly romantic and wound up making you laugh.

I waited at the top of the stairs until I herd the opening notes then I fluttered down the stairs breaking into song. My voice was not that of Lilly Langtree's but it was fair enough and how I played up the song made up for any misnotes - or so I hoped!

..."And as homeward he went, sung he,
"When a Lady elopes down a ladder of ropes
She may go, to, Hong Kong, for me"
She may go, she may go, she may go,
to Hong Kong for me...."

I finished dramatically as I swung round the center pole of the spiral stair case, and laughed along with the others who were whistling and calling good evenings.

The demise of our terrible sheriff had made the rounds and the saloon ws packed with revellers!

William made his way downstairs and stopped by the bar to order a drink before taking a seat at a table. Hearing the first strains of a song he couldn't identify, he looked up to the stairs as he watched for Heartless to appear.

Listening to her sing, he was impressed yet again by her voice. She was turning out to be a well rounded, in more ways than one, and talented woman that he knew he'd enjoy getting to know.

As she finished, he joined the crowd cheering. He waved to her and gave her a happy smile, as he wondered what else she had in the works.

I smiled and winked at William as he waved at me. "Okay boys, I know why we all are celebrating, and I guess some of you have some idea of exactly what happened but most of ya' have just heard the bare bones. So let me enlightin' you!"

I didn't think any one would mind if I embellished just a little. I boosted myself to sit up on one end of the bar, a place I'd sat before. Where if they looked at me they'd also have to take a thirst making look at the the Selection of potables that Bertha stocked.

"We all know just what our so called sheriff was. An outlaw, bad as those he protected, and him hiding behind his gun, fists and stolen badge. We all know that he killed Petger Bench, our old sheriff, may he rest in peace, and we all know that he killed our former mayor as well."

The men listening noded and one or two loudly agreed with me. We all had known that the devil himself had made his home here, and that there was little we could do to stop him. No one could have stopped him by their lonesome, and there were too few of us with grit enought to band together and halt his depredations.

For the next ten minutes I brought up every evil thing he'd done that we'd known about, or guessed at. Now we didn't have the sort of evidence to convince a judge, but I didn't talk of the wilder rumors and stories that had circulated either.

I builtin him up in their minds, let them sweat and finishe off their drinks and want more, but say nothing for the moment for fear of breaking the spell I was weaving.

"Then today a man rode into town, a man with courage and heart that is the utter opposite of his name. Kindly and courteously spoke this stranger was, and all he wanted was to clean the dust of the trail from himself, and rest, perhaps enjoy a home cooked meal."

"Did fate have that instore for him? No, for when he strode into our barbershop what did he find but Earl having torn it to flinders and killed poor gentle Jacob. I saw the inside of that shop myself."

No, I hadn't looked too close when I first inquired of things to Mr. Black, but I'd made myself peek through into the front room when I borrowed the shaving equipment. Good souls had already moved the bodies but the massive amounts of blood splattered about and the utter wreckage of the small normally tidy shop was appaling.

"Mr. Black showed he had the purest of hearts when he killed our terrible sheriff, and might I give you a glimpse of our hero!" I pointed dramatically to William and gave him a big smile.

William watched Heartless as she began hyping the crowd, though for what reason he was unsure of, at least at the beginning. As he followed her, he noticed where she'd placed herself and that brought about the realization that his glass was nearly empty and he quickly got a refill so he could listen to her without it nagging him.

As he listened, he figured out where she was going and mentally winced as he knew he'd be embarressed when she wrapped her story up. He would have tried to get her to stop, but in the words of his uncle Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but deprive a woman her fun and you'll be begging to have a dozen scorned women on your trail, and as such decided to take her tale with good graces.

I led every one in a huge round of applause and I over heard several men tell the Bertha to keep William's glass as full as he wanted. Even our hardened card players looked up from their game long enough to raise their glasses to him.

I had what I thought were two good reasons for making him as much of a hero as I could - the first was is that he WAS a hero, he had resuced us from the clutches of evil.

The second ws if some one asked him to stay on as sheriff, he might say yes and stay. I thought I'd rather like that!

William smiled and generally enjoyed himself, even thought he hadn't done it for anything other than it was the thing to do. He did start drinking solely when toasted rather than casually as if he tried to do both he knew he'd disappoint Heartless by becoming stone drunk and likely passing out.

However once that first burst of enthusiasm was gone, every one seemed strangely lifeless, even Bertha. Now matter how much I sang and danced they just couldn't seem to muster up much of a response. As it neared closing time I looked at Bertha and gave her a shrug. "I guess the town has died." I muttered to myself and went to sit with William..

"I didn't mean to embarrase you, just wanted every one to see you as the hero you are" I said softly as I took a sip of the cider that I drank in place of whiskey.

William had noticed the subdued attitude, thought he still enjoyed Heartless's attempts to keep the event going. As it began closing down and she headed over, he put down his glass, slightly tipsy.

"I don't mind, though it was somewhat unexpected." He replied with a bit of a grin. "I also enjoyed your dancing and singing."

"I also enjoyed your dancing and singing."

"Why thank you most kindly sir" I said teasingly "I do hope that you haven't had so much to drink that you can't express your appreciation in a more...private manner."

"Not at all, thought it wasn't through lack of trying on the part of the other townsfolk." He commented with a grin.

My eyes were twinkling as took his hand and urged him to his feet. "I purely do appreciate that. Lets go find out the truth of your statement." I winked at him, and nodded a good night to Bertha.

I led William up the stairs and turned towards my room.

William was tempted to tease her slightly first but decided to save it for later as he stood and followed her, after bidding a good night to Bertha as well as complimenting her for the excellence of her beverages.

The door to her suite shut behind them and so do the curtains on what ever happened with in...

William looked over at Heartless and smiled warmly. He'd had a good time with her, physically, emotionally and mentally and was thus somewhat unsure how to start a conversation. It wasn't something that he usually had to worry about since he rarely felt a need to talk afterward.

"Oh, you can call me Chastity, or Chas, rather than Heartless, thats just what I wear downstairs." I said a little shyly as I returned his smile. "My mother has a terrible sense of humor. She felt that if I had that for a name I wouldn't be following in her foot steps"

I'd never spoken of much of my life back east to any one but Bertha, but some how it had felt right from the beginning to confide in William.

Bertha watched the budding lovers, a faint smile on her chubby face. She continued polishing the spotless bar, keeping its smooth surface clean and fresh. She wished she still had a lover. They had their uses, she was sure of that. But all too often things went wrong, and if things went wrong in this case, Bertha had plenty of rounds for those shotguns. Putting such idle thoughts aside, she continued to serve her patrons.

"Chas." He said, rolling the name around like it was something unique, special and exotic. "It's a lovely and beautiful name your mother gave you."

"At least you have memories of your mother, my parents died when I was too young to remember them, my uncle raised me." He replied, a brief pang of regret at not knowing them passing across his face.

"Oh I am sorry to hear that William . I never knew who my father was...My mother was the most notorious, if most discreet madam in New York. Every one "knew", but she is too protected by very powerful men, and too wealthy nowadays, for anything to ever to happen to her."

I cuddled up to him. We fit well together and the night air sweeping gently through the window was growing cool.

"Your uncle did a good job though, you are a good, a brave man."

"I'm sure he would have been happy to hear that." He replied as he wrapped an arm around her to aid in sharing the warmth that the night's air was attempting to leech from the room and thier bodies.

I pulled lose just enought to grab the thick quilt that lay folded at the foot of the bed - some how we'd managed not to knock it off. I wrapped it about us and snuggled back up to William.

"What did your uncle do?" I asked I enjoyed the feel of his muscular body next to mine.

"He was primarily a gambler but also was a bit of a jack-of-all trade." He replied as he helped her wrap the quilt around them. Her presence and scent were delicious and oh so comfortable.

"And are you a gambler, a traveling man and a rogue?" I teased William gently, as I ran my hands through his hair, and then tickled him along his ribs. I wanted to hear his laugh.

"A bit of one." He replied with a grin as she teased him slightly, before letting out a rich laugh as she began tickling him. As it wasn't something that usually came up, William hadn't thought to mention it but when he was relaxed as he was then, he became quite ticklish. Even had he remembered, he likely wouldn't have revealed that as it would have likely prompted Chas to tickle him anyways.

Oh I like his laugh I thought as I turned the tickling into gentle stroking.

"Turn over and let me use the one useful thing I learned from my mother's host of oh ever so superior servants... a massage"

He'd been wondering what she was planning on saying as drew out the mystery, and smiled at her idea. "Of course, and should you be willing, I am willing to return the favour."

He couldn't guarantee how good he'd be but he was pretty sure he'd be able to do a decent job of it.

My hands are soft but strong and I used my skills to thoroughly reduce William to so much quivering jelly. Starting at the back of his neck I work my way slowly down his torso, neglecting none of the muscles along the way.

A leisurely hour later I am working on the balls of his feet and then the the individual toes of each foot.

William was starting to think he might have to request a temporary hold on the massage he'd offered Chas as he was feeling like it would take the saloon burning to get him moving again, that or Chas requesting her massage. "You're incredible, I've never felt like this before." He confessed as he realized he might be starting to fall in love.

"You're incredible, I've never felt like this before."

My smile was a mile wide as he complimented me. Slowly I stretched out beside him, laying a kiss upon his shoulder. "Mmmm that was a good work out for my arms and hands." I sighed happily and snuggled up to him, once again puilling the coverlette about us.

"William" I asked softly "Could I go with you leave? I have money saved, and I can pay my own way. But I'd feel safer not going alone."

As she pulled the coverlette up, he gave her a kiss on the nose, playful retaliation for the shoulder kiss. As she asked him about going with him when he left, he thought he heard something deeper but that may have been wishful thinking on his part.

Looking at her, he replied, "Of course you may. Do you have a horse or can get one?" It was a question of practicality as while his own horse could and had carried two people long distances, it made him surly and much more likely to bite, a sure sign he didn't want to do it more than absolutely necessary

"Of course you may. Do you have a horse or can get one?"

"Lars, the stable owner, has a dapple gray mare he'd be willing to sell me, and I have my saddle stored away there too, so there is no worry about that. I wouldn't want to be a burden on you."

I liked William immensely - perhaps even more than just liked -, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as he'd allow. However my pride and practicality wouldn't let me take advantage of him and his kindness. And I knew that being a burden was the surest way to drive a man away. No a man wanted a woman who could be a partner, not a helpless ninny. And while I might act like one down in the saloon, that was just not me - being a helpless swooning ninny that is.

"That sounds good, I know my horse would like that idea." He replied with a grin as all males enjoyed the company of a female, thought in his case he was starting to think that was just a side affect to a much more permenant condition.

"You wouldn't be a burden, a distraction perhaps but not a burden." He added with a teasing smile.

"You wouldn't be a burden, a distraction perhaps but not a burden."

"And a man as handsome as yourself wouldn't be a distraction for me?" I teased back. "I have some usefull abilities. I can cook simple but tasty fare, I can sew well enought to mend clothes, read, do fairly complex sums, and I can use a Remmington type writer, though not with any great speed. I haven't had much practise and there are none in Enginton."

They had only been made for a few years now and the one I had had was too heavy to transport west. I had sold it along with my few other heavy goods before I had left New York.

"All useful skills, thought I can't see where we'd need a type writer." He commented with a grin and he gave her another light kiss on the nose.

"If you wish to come with me, I would be most happy to have you." His sewing and cooking skills were sufficiant to keep tears together till he got to a town and his cooking skills rated about the same and had she been willing to come, he wouldn't have cared if she burned water as he was pretty sure he was feeling the the blooming of love.

"If you wish to come with me, I would be most happy to have you."

I shivvered with happiness and boldly claimed his lips for another, fuller kiss. I wasn't quite sure of my heart yet but he was winning me over moment by moment. He didn't seem like the sort for the short run of things, and he'd trusted me to shave him. That said much, as all his actions had. he could have gotten drunk as the proverbial lord this evening, or made my working 'day' miserable but he hadn't. He been a good sport, and willing to dispense justice when needed. He was a good man, and I didn't think I'd find one who suited me more.

He returned her kiss as he felt Chastity shiver slightly beside him. "It seems like you might be a bit cool," He commented, "How would you like me to warm you?" It was an invitation to either a return to thier prior activites or a chance to simply fall asleep in each others arms.

"How would you like me to warm you?"

I found that I wasn't tired at all. I let my hands do the talking.

William replied in kind as he enjoyed a happy time with Chastity.

I woke late, but then again I alwasy do, with a nocturnal life style. It was beyond just nice to wake up in Williams arms, and I kissed him gently to wake him.

"The sun is well up and I guess we should be too." I smiled down at William as his eyes opened.

William opened his eyes with a faint show of reluctance that change to happiness as he looked up at Chastity. He wasn't a large fan of getting out of a nice warm bed, especially one that also held Chas.

"I guess we should as well, thought I must confess that I am quite content where I am." He replied as he looked at her.

"I guess we should as well, thought I must confess that I am quite content where I am."

"So am I" I admitted with a smile and snuggled back into his embrace. "I don't know if we should try to leave today. While I don't have much, I need to either get rid of it or find a pack mule. I do have too much for just a set of saddle bags and bedroll."

"Perhaps I should concentrate on dealing with that today, and getting my funds from the bank and we could leave tomorrow?"

"That sounds like a very good idea. It will give you a chance to say your good-byes and ensure that those valuables you can take with you go to someone who will treat them well rather than being forced of necessity to offer them to whomever." He replied as he held her as she snuggled up against him.

I ended up buying a pack donkey any way, for I had a few things that were too dear to my heart to give up, and my clothes - particularlly my working attire - represented too big an investment to give away, not that any of the respectable women of the town would want them. I also made sure that I had a camp cooking set and a barbarer kit for William.

As I packed in the pannier I commented. "This way I can keep you looking as handsome as can be." My cheeks dimpled as I admitted though "Even when I first saw you, I thought you were the finest looking man I had seen in my life."

The banker had been sad to see my five hundred dollars leave his fine establishment, but had given it to me in crisp, new silver certificate bank notes, and had presented me with a wide ladies travelling 'girdle' as a going away gift. It was designed to go under myshirtwaist, holding the money flat and spread out so as to be very concealed under my clothes.

This will make it harder for just casual watchers to see how much I'm carrying. I do wish the telegraph station had remained open so the bank could just wire the funds ahead, but we haven't planned where we're going yet, so I guess it makes no never mind."

William grinned at Chastity's comment, "Ah but I pale in comparison to you. Before I met you, I never imagined I'd find someone like you, nor be lucky enought to get to know you." He replied as they prepared for thier joint exodus from Engineton.

He intended to try and sound Chas out on the idea of settling down, as even thought he'd known her only a short time, he had fallen in love with her. The only problem was he wasn't sure how to go about it and was thus likely to make it obvious.

"Nor I you William." I replied with a smile as I tucked into our last dinner at Enginton. Bertha had insisted on cooking us a special dinner tonight, and wouldn't accept a penny in payment. I couldn't stop smiling at him. William was surely creeping into my heart, but was I into his?

"I've heard that a couple of towns are actually becoming cities now, or perhaps we ought to head more westerly. I just recieved a letter, relayed through a friend from another friend, talking about a place called Vegas Oasis in Nevada." I said thoughtfully. 'They mentioned that the rail road will be going through there and they say the valley is very lush, the springs provide much cool water and are a popular stop for the wagon trains heading west to California."

I was thinking that if land was cheap we could afford enough to buy a large lot, and build a saloon with a dinner theater and furnish it properly. We, as in the two of us, if you're willing William I thought to myself, but was sure it was too soon to say such things aloud.

William enjoyed the final dinner from Bertha, and more so the conversation with Chastity. His face was being visited by upward curve of a smile more often in the space of a few days than they had in any number of months.

"I've never heard much about Nevada, but if you think it sounds like a good idea then it's as good a destination as any. I must confess I'm less use to having a set destination in mind when I exit a town. I'm more use to letting fate guide me, like how it guided me here." He commented with a wry grin as the 'And to you' was left unsaid.

He hoped that when he proposed, as it wasn't a matter of If any more but When, that she would say yes.

Charlotte had waited pashently untill her father had sliped into his drunken sleep. Then she slipped on her long black wool cloak waiting till it was dark befor she slipped out of the large house and silently walked back to the town keeping to the shadows. Once she reached the stables Ella stoped in the small court yard, looking around to see if any one was about.

William and Istayed down stairs long enough for the regulars to say their good byes to me then we retired upstairs. Now that we necessarily went to sleep right ways, but when we did it was easy to for me to fall asleep in his atrong arms. A warm sheltering place that I had already decided that was where I wanted to be for as long as he'd have me there.

"Sweet dreams, dear one" I murmurred as sleep stole over me.

Bradmus was not amused. In fact, he was rather miffed. He was disgusted by the tendency of the living to be so emotional when it came to parting. With his own post-death perspective, he certainly felt a sense of detachment from those he would have called his loved ones. He knew now that life was not so important, that there was a greater freedom after removing the cloak of life and walking confidently into the nudity of death.

He watched as Bertha bid the lovers farewell, tears in her eyes. Such weakness. Bradmus decided he had endured enough, and moved his ghostly form outside into the surprisingly humid air. He had not gone far when he spotted a girl.

"You as well my love." William replied as he likewise drifted off into the land of dreams and sleep. He was quite happy and comfortable with Chastity sleeping beside him.

Dawn was past but not greatly so, when I awoke as turned on to my side, watching William as he slept. He had handome features that displayed his strength of character when awake, and his inner gentleness when asleep.

I watched him for quite some time then laid a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Time to wake up William love" I whispered, daring to use a word that perhaps I should not have.

William woke up to her kiss and words, "This is one of the best ways to wake up." He commented, "A kiss from the woman I've fallen in love with."

He looked at her as he wondered if he'd pushed it too far, even thought she'd also mentioned the word love.

Bertha sniffed. It was hard to watch the young lovers, what with them reminding her of her own youth, when she was slim and gorgeous and men went after her like a miner after anything that glittered in the ground. She stepped quickly behind the bar, moving her considerable bulk to the liquor. She needed a drink of her own. The tears were flowing for the woman she used to be, a woman lost to her forever, a ghost that haunted her mind.

"A kiss from the woman I've fallen in love with."

"Oh William" I whispered happily "I didn't used to believe in love at first sight. I always felt that love grew slowly, cautiously, more fearful than joyous. But I think I fell in love with you the moment I peeked through the kitchen doors. And it feels glorious!"

I gave him a tight hug, then all but sprang from the bed, despite it being an hour that normally I was deeply asleep at. "This feels like a perfect day for new beginnings."

With a song in my heart, and a smile on my lips, I began putting on the sturdy but comfortable riding outfit I had bought the day before. "I think have a long day ahead of us so we had best get a hearty breakfast and make miles while the sun shines"

"Then you beat me to this glorious state my love, for I did not spot you until later." He replied with a smile.

She seemed to be a bit more energetic than he as William would have been perfectly content to remain in bed just holding Chas in his arms. With a mental shrug he stood, and after retaliating for her hug with a kiss of his own, he began dressing as well.

"It seems that way." He replied as he thought of what her breakfasts might taste like and smiled. His breakfasts were usually a bit of bacon, toast and occasionally some beans.