I could barely see, or hear, or think. It was as if the bullets were still spinning past me. They had gotten close this time, real close. They had chased me from county to county, until they grew tired or fearful as I crossed into West Elizabeth. I feared I had not seen the last of those men, and so I rode on into the darkness. Everything I had learnt from the Cheyenne's seemed to slip away from me in the dead of night, and I did not stop until I saw a soft light between the trees zipping past me. As I approached the settlement became clearer in my vision; noticing the fence I urged my mount forward with a tap from my spurs. My mount reared and whinnied, seemingly deterred by the tall wooden fence that stood up to her neck, ploughing her hooves into the ground she stirred violently to a stop, continuously prancing until I dismounted. Quite lost and alone, I led her around the perimeter until I could find a break in the fence. I did not hear the bear approach, I only felt its heavy paw smack me to the ground. As I fell I rolled under the fence and smacked my head against a cold rock. My vision slowed and blurred, slowed enough for me to watch the jaws of a bear encase my foot. I grasped at the handle of my Schofield Revolver and pulled the trigger relentlessly, fearful that the beast might steal my foot, all the while I screamed. Hooves smacked against the face of the bear and it released me from its beastly grasp. A roar reverberated in my ears, followed by the sudden squelch of footsteps charging toward me. The sound of gunfire became a symphony in my ears when I grew faint, and lay still from exhaustion or fright. I sighed and let my arm fall to my side, revolver still in hand.
"Oh sweet mother of mercy," a male voice spoke in a quiet southern drawl.
"What happened, Marston?" I tried to speak, but only a mumble escaped my lips. Footsteps came jogging forward, the sound of spurs and the loading of guns accompanied their steps.
"Oh nice of you to join us," retorted the gruff, rasping voice, "Crook try and grab the horse and put her in the barn, Colt make up the guest bed. Now!" he barked, lowering his voice as he leant towards me, almost whispering, "You're safe now, Miss, come on…"
*
"Mare's in the stables, I thought it best to bring her belongings in with us."
"She has plenty of hay and water?"
"Yup,"
"And she's been dried off?"
"Yup,"
"Good man," The rasping voice spoke slowly, softly, "Colt, you look out for the boys now, will ya?"
I felt the weight lift off my eyes, and cautiously looked around. The scent of golden current hung about the room lazily, the soft glow of the fire began awakening my senses. I inhaled deeply and groaned at the ache in my shoulder and the shooting pains in my leg. I was covered in a cold sweat, quiet shaken and bemused.
"Relax Marston," The man named Colt looked out the window, tilting his head and resting his leg on an armchair.
"Miss?" Marston looked into my eyes, removed his hat, and held it to his chest, "my name is Jack Marston, this here is my ranch. These here are my boys, Crook and Colt. It seems that horse of yours saved your life."
"Jack?" My brow knitted together.
"Take it easy now Miss," he said as I sat bolt upright.
"You must be John's son then," I said as if I were speaking to myself.
"Yes Miss," he was still crouched beside me.
"I've been lookin' for your father," I groaned.
Jack frowned and sat beside me, he spoke quietly, "Well unfortunately my father passed not long ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I sighed, quite unsure of what to do, I shook my head. I felt dizzy and weak, though my sweat began to cool off.
"Leone and James are here," Colt stated, as he stared out of the window. Crook slid the bolt from the back door, walked into the living room and smacked Colts boot off the armchair. Crook sat down and lit his pipe, he eyed me with curiosity or lust. I shivered, uncomfortable under his stare.
"Well well well, looky here we have company," A tall man, slimly built and dressed entirely in black - bar his tan leather waistcoat and shirt - walked in, hanging up his hat he looked straight at me with darling blue eyes that hid beneath a dirty blonde mane; he wore spurs that sung as he walked and a simple brown belt, buckled tightly around his middle.
"Pleased to meet yaw, Ma'am," he extended his hand, and when I placed mine in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, "Leone," he winked.
Jack sighed as if to expect any different and watched as Leone retreated to the armchair diagonally opposite and struck a match against the fireplace to light his cigarette. He watched me through the smoke. His blue eyes pierced the cloud that puffed from his mouth. The door slammed shut and the bolt was drawn. My head snapped to my left to see a young man, no older than twenty five walk in wearing a light blue shirt and a dirty brown bandana that matched the likes of his trousers and boots. He smiled at me cheerfully,
"Hiya!" he waved, "James Brooks," he looked like quite a character. He held a repeater carbine in his left hand the entirety of the conversation.
I nodded in reply.
"And what is it, that we should call you, little sis?" The man named Colt asked from beneath his thick, bushy moustache. Crook, who looked strikingly similar sat beside him. Their almost black eyes and black hair stirred a sense of familiarity in me. I had seen those two somewhere before.
"What's it to you?" I turned to face him slowly with narrowed eyes and a cocked head.
"Oh, feisty one 'ere gents," Leone managed to laugh with a cigarette stuck to his lip, his right leg lifted onto the chair, his right arm smoothing his moustache. They laughed - Jack cleared his throat, and brought his attention back to me.
"May I?" he pointed, "Sure," I said. He removed his leather duster, flinging it over the arm of the couch, and ripped a strip of fabric from the arm of his shirt. He continued casually, and wrapped the cloth around my shoulder, making sure he pulled it tight. He looked into my eyes and quickly looked away as he secured the cloth.
"Seen as you had business with his father, best you speak up and tell us your name now," Colt said.
"You're right, forgive me," I smiled and looked at Jack, "Scarlet,"
Silence. With that Crook stepped forward and slowly paced toward me with a mix of fear and curiosity. "You," He pointed his finger at me. His left hand tucked underneath his belt. Jack stiffened, clearly aware of Crooks disposition.
"Don't you point that at a Lady," Jack spoke with a stern discomfort. Crook blindly ignored him, too engrossed in my presence.
"You're The Scarlet Lady?"
*
"Is that what they's callin' me?" I asked, Crooks face was disturbingly familiar, I shook my head in frustration, "What about you, where have I seen you from?"
"Well me?" He said, pointing at his chest, a smug grin on his face. He laughed gruffly, patting himself on the chest. His waistcoat was a filthy brown, as he patted it dust flew from its fabric.
"Well I ran with the Williamson Gang," his eyes were wide. His facial expression made him look mad. Maybe he was mad.
"Crook, right? How is it you ain't still in the Williamson Gang?" I squinted, and spoke with heavy sarcasm, make sure to emphasize each syllable.
His smile dropped, a dark menacing straight line of lips set in its place.
"My fellow gang members done got killed," he said, tittering backwards towards his seat, "me and Colt's too smart for 'em anyways," he gestured as he sat. Suddenly my memory struck and I spoke without thought.
"You's two the Hardin brothers, you's wanted from here to Escalera!" I exclaimed, fearful I was in the presence of bad men.
"Hey now Ma'am, don't you worry 'bout nothin', these boys goin' straight, we's working on this ranch so as we can pay their bounty ourselves," Jack said. I was not so sure and stood up suddenly, forgetting my injuries of the past hour. My leg buckled, though I was swiftly caught by Jack, pains shot up my leg and my face crumpled. I felt faint and the cold sweat began to cling to my skin once more.
"Whoa there," Jack held me up with his right arm and led me toward the nearest bedroom, "come on Ma'am, let's get you cleaned up. You'll be sleeping in the master bedroom tonight," a series of quiet laughter bubbled from behind me, Jack turned his head to face the men, "alone," he stated, looking straight at what must have been the Hardin brothers, "somebody get the whisky and lend me a hand!"
I hobbled into the master bedroom and set myself down on the bed, carefully launching my legs on top of the covers. Leone walked in, the sloshing of a whisky bottle complementing the song of his spurs. His cigarette was still stuck against his lips.
"This may hurt," his dark brown eyes looked into mine for confirmation, I nodded. Hastily I looked away as he pulled off my boot. The sliding leather caused a plethora of pain, which caused me to grimace and grasp my thigh with white knuckles. My body shook, every ache and pain was magnified and I fell backwards onto the bed, resting my head against the pillow. He placed it on the floor and gestured for the whisky. He began dabbing down my wound with a handkerchief.
"I don't know how I'm gonna get these men now, boys," I sighed. Jack looked up at Leone, who returned his glance with a knitted brow and a mouthful of smoke.
"What men?" he held the cigarette between two fingers, his big blue eyes set on me.
"Mo Van Barr of the Walton gang, and a few others, if I can take 'em down for a bounty I will," I winced, the whisky stung like a son of a b-
"So you's a bounty hunter?" Leone cocked an eyebrow, inhaling.
"I wouldn't quite say that," I pursed my lips and looked up at him through my lashes, "more of a no good outlaw,"
Leone laughed a throaty laugh, smoking pouring from his mouth, "Well Ma'am I'll be sure to stay away from you in the future,"
"Awh now don't keep promises you can't keep," I smiled and winked. As he held his cigarette to his lips he chuckled into the smoke.
Jack finished bandaging my wound and rose, crossed his arms and said: "Do not worry about the Hardins,"
He did not ask any questions about my business with his father, out of pain or pride he kept quiet.
I nodded, "Forgive me for my ignorance but, why is it you's keepin' 'em here when, if I'm not wrong, they's was in your fathers old gang?"
Jack looked down into his crossed arms, "Spose they's more like family to me, growin' up with outlaws and what not."
"I see," I said and looked down, I had grown tired mighty fast and yawned.
"We'll get you to the doctors as soon as you're up tomorrow, we'll talk about my fathers business when you're rested, alright? ". Jack gestured to Leone who reluctantly walked towards the door, Jack smacked Leone on the back of the neck as they reached the door and playfully shoved him outside, a mumbled complaint came from the living room.
"I don't mean to be such trouble to you boys,"
"Ain't no trouble, Scarlet, ain't no trouble."