Green eyes, cold and calculating scanned the small camp through the end of a tree line. Strong hands gripped firmly to a repeating rifle that has seen plenty of use. He spotted three men and one woman.
Without a word, the watching man busted out of the tree line with rifle raised. "You have three seconds to clear the hell out of here!" the man barked, keeping his eyes moving to all three. "The lady stays." he said a little more calmly.
The three men slowly rose, hands above their heads. The lady tried to stand, but she found it difficult due to the thick ropes around her ankles and wrists. "Ma'am, you can just stay how you are, if that pleases you." The new stranger didn't look over to her, his peripheral doing enough.
"Thank you," the blonde captive awkwardly mumbled, still unsure of what was happening. Was she rescued, or was she going from the frying pan to the fire?
"It's about ten seconds now." The stranger's face was hidden by the pitch black of night, the light from the flames only revealing a hint of stubble. "Get out of here on your own, or don't get out at all." The man fired his rifle at the bare ground in front of the middle captor's feet.
The three men slowly began to back away towards there horses. "What'd you want with the bi..."
"Language, fella." The stranger stopped him, pulling the level back on his rifle.
"The girl?" The heavily bearded man asked, bumping into his horse as he continued to back away.
"If that was any of your business, I'd let you know. Seeing as it ain't, I'm still waiting for you to GET THE HELL OUT!" He stepped into the light of the fire now. The three scoundrels finally saddled up and rode out of the camp, leaving everything they had behind, but they still had their lives.
"Stay there, I'm coming to you." The still unannounced man lowered his rifle and casually walked over to her side, pulling a bowie knife from his hip. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he promised when he saw the terrified expression take over her crystal blue eyes.
"Who are you?" the poor girl asked quietly as her... hopefully savior... cut her ties. She looked up to his green eyes that studied her red, raw wrists.
"I'm afraid I don't have anything for those burns." He motioned to her burns but didn't touch her, not knowing what kind of damage had been done to this girl. "Take it easy and relax, Mrs. Rand. You're safe, alright?"
"You still haven't told me your name, and why do you know who I am?" she had to ask, moving a stray blonde hair away from her eye.
"It ain't important who I am. There are people after you, some good and some bad." He wasn't willing to say too much.
"Which one are you?" She asked shyly, looking up at him from under long eyelashes.
"Which do you think, Mrs. Rand?" He chuckled to himself and played with a stick he found near the fire.
"Please sir, call me Juliet." She decided he was one of the good ones, though he played the mystery game.
"I ain't a sir," he said quickly and with quiet force. "Get some rest if you can. Long road to get you home, starting tomorrow."
"Well, I need something to address you by, don't I?" Juliet pushed. It had been too long since she had someone to talk to without being hit or called names like tramp, slut, whore, harlett or bitch.
"Lady, in three days, you ain't gonna remember me." The stranger was adamant about his identity not being known. "I ain't worth knowing."
It had become obvious that this green eyed man wasn't much for talking or trying to get along. Juliet wasn't entirely sure if she should want to know him. Was he any better than the other three that had taken her in the first place? Her mind had told her so, given the fact that he had freed her from her restraints and hadn't touched a hair on her head.
"Mister... did they leave any food?" Juliet ventured out, testing the water with this gunslinger.
"Lady, you ain't gotta be afraid to ask me anything. Just don't be expecting an answer to all of them." The man dug through a saddle bag that had been left behind by Juliet's tormentors.
Juliet leaned forward, sweeping hair behind her ear to keep it from dangling into the licking flame.
The man pulled back, hiding the contents from Juliet with a mischievous look in his eyes. "I think I can make something out of this," he said cryptically, not explaining what he could do.
She watched with hopeful eyes and tried to hide her smile as this man in front of her set up a percolator of coffee and cleaned a recently used pan. "I get to eat too, don't I?" Juliet asked again hesitantly.
"Ma'am, what the hell kind of people had you?" he asked with disgust as he put the pan on the cast iron grate to keep it out of the fire and ashes.
"Unsavory people, Mister." Juliet answered, rubbing her shoulder that was covered by her dirty and torn dress.
"Well ma'am, you ain't stuck with them anymore. I ain't your friend, but I ain't gonna cause you any pain," he promised. "When was the last time they fed you?" He loosely pointed a stick in her direction.
"They fed me a little bit everyday. I tried to steal some food but they caught me..." her voice trailed off and her eyes dropped.
"What'd they do?" He squinted his eyes. He had a pretty good idea. Her jaw clenched and she closed her eyes, but she refused to cry. "Juliet, they beat you, didn't they?"
Juliet didn't say anything, she didn't need to. "That was the first time," she replied in a quiet, hollow voice.
"Damn it." He rose up, taking his rifle with him.
"Where are you going, Mister?" Juliet almost stood up, ready to follow him. She didn't know anything about him, but she would go with him over being left alone or found by anyone else.
"I'm gonna go find those pieces of shit, and shoot at least one of them," he said as he got into the saddle. "Keep this with you. There's food in the saddle bag and coffee on," the now pissed off stranger told her as he threw a pistol to the ground just in front of her. "Name's Spencer, by the way." He finally gave a piece of identification as he turned his horse to leave the way he came. "I can't take three days of being called 'Mister,'" he said in distaste.
"Who the Hell was that dirty rustler anyway?" one of the men asked as he swigged from a bottle of whiskey. "Riding up outta nowhere like he owns the damned territory."
"I like to think I do, friend," the same man said from his saddle, rifle drawn. "You see fellas, I'm not a good man by any rights, but I don't hit a lady." Spencer shook his head, pulling back the hammer on his Winchester rifle.
"Have a soft spot for her already, do ya?" asked a man, his Irish accent causing Spencer to smirk.
"You can go first. Where do you want it?" he asked. "Leg or arm?"
"Are ya bloody mad? You're going to shoot us and leave us, are you?" The Irishman asked, his hands already up again. "What kinda man are you?".
"The kinda man who doesn't mind spilling blood, but doesn't tolerate hitting a woman," Spencer offered. "I'll choose." He raised his rifle and pulled a trigger, a white hot bullet shattered the man's knee cap. "Damn son, that looks like it hurt." Spencer tisked.
"Please Mister, don't do us the same. I'm begging!" The second man dropped to his knees next to his screaming partner.
"Did you boys touch her?" Spencer hopped off his horse, rifle coming with him. There was no misunderstanding in what his question meant.
"We were gonna, but she's a little spitfire, that one. She fought off me and Fitz. Lil' John didn't do nothing."
"I appreciate the honesty." Spencer swung the butt of his rifle hard into the second man's groin, causing him to crash into the dirt with a scream. "You'd be Little John, I'm guessing?" he asked the boy that couldn't be more than seventeen.
"Ye yes, sir," Little John choked out.
"Get outta here, kid. Find yourself a good crew and keep your nose dry." Spencer pointed his thumb behind him, telling him to hit the road.
"Th, thank you, sir." Little John tipped his hat and ran to his horse, scrambled into the saddle and nearly bolted.
"And the name's Shawn, not sir, damn it!" Shawn hated when people called him "sir."
Juliet held tightly to the 1851 Model Colt that Shawn had given her while he was gone. The tree line rustled and Juliet raised the old piece, firing twice into the trees.
"Damn it woman, you damn near killed me!" Shawn yelled, coming out of the trees, still in the saddle.
"I'm sorry!" Juliet exclaimed, dropping the pistol. "I heard only one shot and quite a bit of screaming. I feared the worst," Juliet explained herself.
"And what would that be, Ms. Juliet?" Shawn asked as he dismounted with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
"I thought... they got you," she said quietly, her eyes finding his.
"I'm kinda good at what I do, and they ain't," Shawn chuckled, sitting back down by the fire. "Did you get any food in you?" Shawn motioned to the pan with his little stick again.
"No I didn't." Juliet's answer was a little more solid this time, but still not where Shawn would have liked it to be.
"Juliet, could you please stop being nervous?" Shawn chuckled with a small smile. "You've been through a lot here, I get that, but you make me feel like a monster."
"I'm sorry Mr. Spencer. I'm just not feeling very... trusting... right now," Juliet said apologetically.
"I understand that." Shawn nodded, taking off his wide brimmed, brown cowboy hat. "I ain't gonna tell you to trust me. I ain't gonna stop you from going anywhere, but I hope you have better sense than to run off."
Juliet nodded, appreciating Shawn's coolness about the situation. "Thank you, Mr. Spencer."
"Don't mention it," Shawn said as he got back up and walked to his horse to take off the saddle.
"What are you up to?" Juliet asked, finally finding the comfort Shawn hoped she would.
"If you want to sleep with your head on the rocks, that's fine by me. I thought you might like something to lean on instead," Shawn explained as he now held the saddle in his hands, not sure if she'd accept it or not.
"Thank you." Juliet weakly smiled and stood up for the first time since she had met Shawn.
Shawn only nodded and walked the saddle to where Juliet's sorry excuse for a bedspread had been thrown. He placed it down lateral with the fire, so her whole body and not just her feat could have warmth. The territory around Santa Barbara could be scorching during the day, but could become frigid in the depths of night.
"What did they give you to sleep with?" Shawn asked, guessing what they gave her for blankets wasn't generous.
"Next to nothing," came her reply. She hated sounding like a helpless sad sack, but she wasn't going to lie to him about how they treated her. "They gave me a blanket to lay on." She held up a blanket that was less than matting for under a saddle. "And a blanket to go over." Juliet then showed him a larger in area, but thinner blanket.
Shawn shook his head and exhaled. "And they try telling me the Indians are the savages." He stared into the flames a while, not thinking about anything, seemingly lost. "How long have you been out here?" Shawn finally spoke again.
"A week. Give or take a day or two." Juliet met his inquisitive eyes, the look on his face that she couldn't read said there was more coming. Her mind was falling in and out of lucidity from exhaustion. She didn't notice the small meal he was preparing for her.
"Mrs. Rand, I know it's late but getting some food in your guts is gonna give you a lot better sleep. You ain't gotta fight them hunger pains and all," Shawn suggested before she could nod off.
"Will you eat with me, Mr. Spencer?" Juliet asked quietly, that shyness at such a simple request was back.
"If it helps you sleep, I guess," Shawn shrugged, not understanding the gesture that meant more to Juliet than she'd admit. "Your husband, Mr. Rand. Why ain't he out with a posse somewhere after you?" Juliet's gaze refused to leave the embers under the percolator, telling Shawn's observant eyes that this wasn't an easy question for her. "Sorry, I guess it weren't my place to ask." Shawn backpedaled.
"No, it's alright." She looked up briefly and shot him a weak smile. The look he gave her wasn't convincing at all. An idea came to her mind and she gave him a genuine smile. "How about this, Mr. Spencer; give me your first name, and I'll answer any questions you have about me." She wasn't sure why knowing his name was such a big deal to her, but she just felt like she had to know. Those green eyes needed a name other than 'Mr. Spencer'.
Shawn had no intentions on getting to know this girl, but for some reason, he had become oddly curious. "Alright, fine. Shawn." That was all she was going to get out of him. "Hold up on questions for a spell." Shawn told her, going back to his pan. "It ain't anything fancy, but I ain't much of the culinary type." Shawn shrugged, handing her a tin plate with a biscuit and a substance between stew and hash.
Juliet took the plate and sniffed it. It didn't look all that appetizing, but it was food, and it was hot unlike most of the scraps they'd given her. It would take quite some time for her to get her proper weight back. She was near starved. "Thank you, Shawn." The thank you was whole hearted, though she didn't know how the food would go down.
"Behind you by the saddle, should be a canteen." Shawn pointed behind her. "I expect they didn't give you all the water you needed, neither."
Juliet kept her eyes on him as she reached for where he had pointed. Sure enough, her hand met scratchy canvas. She pulled up the canteen and enjoyed the greatest drink she'd ever had in her life, gulping down as much as she could handle. Once she had had her fill, she wiped her mouth and looked at Shawn with an expression he couldn't identify.
"What is it?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"If you're like those other men, the ones that took me away... why are you being nice to me?" Juliet's voice came in at just over a whisper, her eyes not meeting his.
Shawn exhaled and rubbed a rough, calloused hand through his messy brown hair. "Juliet, I ain't being nice to you, alright? I'm not a good man, I just ain't a bad man."
"If you don't mind Shawn, I disagree." Shawn's brow rose before she could finish. "I think you are a good man. You've gone out of your way to take care of me. Why?" Her eyes bore into his the entire time she spoke.
"Eat up and go to bed, Mrs. Rand." Shawn dismissed everything she had just said, and chose to roll out his bedroll, tossing an extra blanket at her, which she barely caught.
Next time on Bounty, Shawn and Juliet begin the road to Juliet's home. More is revealed about Juliet and her husband, Mr. Rand.
Bounty