Titan Ridge is under attack from a group of vicious bandits. Sheriff McMahon has run out of options. He hires a ruthless bounty hunter to help solve the problem, but things get complicated when his fearless daughter gets involved in the hunt. AU HHH/Stephanie, McMahon Family, others.
This town would be the death of him. All his life his family had practically ran Titan Ridge; from his great grandfather to his father right down to him. Sheriff McMahon removed the deep brown Stetson to reveal a mop of unruly salt and pepper hair. It stuck to his head from the balmy heat, small trickles of sweat gathering at his temples. Now it was rotten to the core and he had that inevitable, sinking feeling in his gut that it when it finally disintegrated, it would take everybody with it. A determined grunt passed from his lips. He wasn't about to let that happen. Not on his watch. If these New Age Outlaws bastards wanted to take this town they would have to pry it from his cold dead fingers. He was the sheriff. He was the law.
"Dammit."
The low grumble of a word shot out of his mouth distastefully. The fact that he was the law was the one thing holding him back. He had to adhere to the rules, had to follow the books. Because of that he couldn't just walk into their gang hideout all guns blazing and kill every single last one of them. He'd hang for that. No. He had to write to the judges and ask for warrants. It was too much bullshit not to mention wasted time. And time wasn't something they had on their side any more, not with more people getting killed and more gang members signing up by the week. This infestation needed to be dealt with and Sheriff McMahon was at his wits end. He personally may not be permitted to act outside the law but that didn't mean he couldn't find somebody who could.
His pensive eyes were drawn to the poster in his hand. It had been stuck to a wall posting in a bar up a few towns north and the Sheriff had immediately inquired about the man on the page. Turns out, this guy got things done and he took no prisoners. The stories had been mixed. Some folk considered the bounty hunter to be just as vile as the men he brought to swift and sudden justice. It seemed his heartless and shoot first, ask questions later attitude rubbed some of them the wrong way. That didn't bother the Sheriff in the slightest. These towns didn't have the depth of problems that Titan Ridge had. They didn't understand and they wouldn't understand until a bunch of bandits settled in their towns either. Once they got through with the Ridge, it was a sure bet they'd come for Turner Ranch and every other town in the State too. They'd be like dominoes, falling one by one to soulless outlaws. Sheriff McMahon knew what he had to do. It took a rotten bastard to kill a rotten bastard and that's exactly what the poster in his hand promised. That's why he had already made contact and arranged a meeting. His bounty hunter was on the way and hopefully Titan Ridge would be less a couple of bandits once he got here.
"Vince?"
The Sheriff turned at the familiar sound of his wife calling his name. His initial anger disappeared when he realised that she hadn't travelled alone. It wasn't safe. But she had come with their son and a couple of trusted hands.
"It's time for going home, Vince. The boys can handle the night. If they need you they'll send," Linda McMahon mildly ordered her stubborn husband. Ever since the Outlaws had settled he had been a different man and how could she blame him when people were getting shot down in the street under his watch? She wanted him to bring those bastards to justice as much as anybody but he needed to look after himself.
"Come on, pop. We can stop at the saloon for an ale before heading back," cajoled Shane. He stood at the door, his hands casually gripping the lapels of his deep green waistcoat. The white hat on his head was tipped high revealing very similar features to both his parents. "I'm sure Stephanie will appreciate the company."
At the mention of his daughter, the Sheriff perked up and reluctantly made for the door. Vince was the Sheriff, Linda looked after their ranch, Shane ran the General Store and Stephanie the saloon. The McMahon's had a deep seeded history in Titan Ridge and he intended to keep it that way. "Lead the way," Vince said to his family after briefing his Deputies for the evening. A stiff shot of whiskey sounded good right about now.
The Shamrock Saloon was a short few minute's walk from the Sheriff's Station and doubled up as a Saloon and Hotel with living space up the stairs. Further down the main street sat the General Store, its doors and windows safely boarded in case of robbery. The candle lit street lamps illuminated the worn dirt as the family walked together. Drunken patrons littered the porch and balcony of the establishment.
"Disgusting," Linda screwed up her face at the sight of a man hurling his guts up around the corner while an obvious prostitute and her customer groped each other shamelessly around the other corner.
Vince simply smiled and tried to ignore the heated stench of beer and sweat that drifted up his nose upon stepping through the squeaky swing doors. As with everywhere he went, the atmosphere stiffened for just a moment as everybody around inhaled the fact that the Sheriff was on the premises. He had to admit, he revelled in the power that came with his position. If only it struck the same fear into the Outlaws as it did most of the people here.
"Well what brings my family stopping by?" cried Stephanie McMahon jovially over the noise of the piano in the background and general raucous chatter of the bar. Her long chestnut hair flowed effortlessly down her back while her cheeks were flushed a light pink from being run off her feet all day long. The citizens of Titan Ridge sure as hell loved to drink. Her red working gown had come slightly loose over the course of the evening, the laces having grown a bit slack. But her blue eyes were bright and still shining despite the late hour. That sparkle only grew upon seeing her family walk through the doors.
"Are you glad to see us, sister?" Shane grinned as he leaned down and pecked her cheek.
"I'm very glad to see you! I always am," she replied, returning his kiss and exchanging more with her parents. "You're looking tired, Sheriff. Anything a whiskey might be able to help you with?"
The Sheriff let out a delighted guffaw as he fell into the bar stool. His daughter knew him well. "Make it a double and bring your mother some of that wine, Steph."
Stephanie disappeared to prepare their drinks when her eyes once again drifted to the mysterious man sitting adjacent to the bar and directly facing the door. He'd been sitting there all night, alone, not once making a move to speak to anybody and throwing back straight whiskey shots from the second his ass hit the seat. She was curious to say the least. His face was unfamiliar and he obviously wasn't from around these parts. Everybody who passed by Titan Ridge came through The Shamrock. She would know if she had seen him before. She hadn't. He was dressed in all black. Black boots hidden under black leather pants. His black shirt hung loose around his large frame, the top few buttons undone to allow some cool air to filter through to his skin. A black bandana covered his neck, gathering sweat in the sweltering heat. His face was hidden behind a black brimmed hat, his head dipped low. Suddenly her breath stuck in her throat as his head lifted and their eyes caught for the briefest of moments. They were a deep chocolate brown and terrifyingly striking. His gaze worked its way all the way to the depths of her stomach. And then in an instant it was gone and he was back to staring out the door again. Gathering the glasses in her hands, she pushed the mysterious drifter to the back of her mind and rejoined her family at the table.
"You took your time."
Her blue eyes playfully scolded her brother as she sat a glass in front of him. "I got a little distracted," she admitted truthfully. "Don't look now but there's a man sitting over there and he's just….very strange. He's been there all night and hasn't budged once. Shelly's been topping up his drink but that's it. He hasn't moved, hasn't talked, hasn't done anything. Very strange."
The Sheriff tactfully let his gaze travel towards the stranger and a slow familiarity sank into his mind. He knew that face. That rugged stare could belong to only one man. His bounty hunter had arrived. Before he even got a chance to open his mouth, a loud ruckus emanated from the back of the large room. Vince shot out of his seat indignantly, outraged that a brawl had broken out in his presence. It was only when he turned around that he realised this was no ordinary drunken brawl.
"All of you stay back or I'll cut his throat!" spat the offender from behind his hostage. He held a dirty knife to the other man's throat as he slowly backed them both out of the corner and headed for the door. His eyes were wild, looking all around him for any sign of an attack. They quickly fell on the Sheriff who was blocking the exit, his revolver drawn and aimed directly at him. "Mind your business, Sheriff. You don't want to fuck with the Outlaws."
"That's funny because I'm telling you the Outlaws don't want to fuck with me," Vince called back, not wavering for a second.
The entire Saloon was now at a standstill with many patrons caught in the middle of the deadly standoff. It only grew worse as two men got out of their seats and came to stand by the side of the first offender.
"Get back!"
"We ain't trying nothing. We want in. We want in the Outlaws," the first man revealed.
"And if we help you outta this we get in. We got ourselves a deal?" piped in the second.
A confident snicker rang around the tense bar as the man held the knife tighter against his victim's throat. "Hear that, Sheriff? I'm walking outta here or you gon' have a lot of dead people on your hands." He moved to start walking again, this time flanked on either side, but was instantly stopped by the feel of a searing pain ripping into his side…