July 6th,1872

It had been almost eight years since Pa lost everything in Sherman's march from Atlanta to Savannah, only seven since he left us for dead. Ever since that day I was left at the ruins I saw that point in my life as a land marker, and so far I thought I was doing alright for myself. When I left my homestead, I never looked back.

"We lost, Eli. Harrison's gang's well up the river by this hour. We've lost 'em. We've lost!" That was Sam. The typical cynic. Always one to jump at the chance to say that they've failed, but he'd never say it was by his doing. He was "too good" to lose,

"You think I don't know that, You fool?" The pessimistic observation was brought to a harsh and abrupt end by the gravely voice of Eli. It was beginning to be too much for him that at every chance he had Same would complain. He wasn't here to babysit, he was here to find and kill the Harrison Gang. Every last one of them, " Try to keep your sorry ass mouth shut. If Freddie hears we're all gonna get his wrath." The man took a rather large stick and began to poke the bustling flames of the fire. Sparks flew as the logs shifted, logs they we're quite sure had came from. Throw in a couple buffalo chips and you had yourself a cowboy's heat well enough for the whole gang,

"Look, he's coming. Act natural and keep that hole in your face shut!"

It became quite on the prairie as the gang's leader appeared out of the dark and into the light of the camp. Trotting in with his cowboy boots with the spurs that jingled with each step across the dusty ground. He wore an orange flannel top with denim chaps as a bottom. Around his waste was wrapped his holster which held his silver pistol. Often times he found find himself grabbing for it, caressing the cool metal between his fingers. It served as a warning to the other's whenever the other's were getting on his nerves, but it was also a force of habit.

His squinted eyes peered into the fire as he stood over it. The other men who lounged around the flame merely looked back up to him as to watch for a facial expression that never came. It was a moment of tension that they hadn't seen in a while. From the corner of his eyes he spotted the stick Eli had used to prod the fire. He took it in his hand, and began to do the same, now crouching a foot or two besides it.

It wasn't Freddie's personality to be so serious. Most of the time he could be found acting just as chauvinistic and immature as the wrest of them. Letting loose and enjoying the pleasures of a few whores was something any western man could enjoy. But when it came to the Harrison's gang, he had a grudge so strong it had a way of shifting him into the personality traits of a leader. Strong willed, stubborn, and quiet,

"Next time we've got 'em, I'm sure of it." His eyes never left the dancing flamed of gold. It had a mystifying power that entranced him, and he couldn't look away as he spoke.

Beside him, his brother Eli and Sam exchanged glances as if to look for assistance. Both were unsure how to respond, and breaking the news that his task was nearly impossible was something neither of them wanted to do. The stuttering voice of Eli was soon heard,

"Harrison's probably made his way to the River. If he passes into Mexico we're pretty sure he's gone for good." A piece of grass had been nudged between his teeth as he began to grind them together. When Freddie acted like this, he had a way of scaring his brother. You never know if tonight was the night he was going to turn on all of them,

"Not exactly, brother of mine." He joked, finally lifting his gaze from the fire to look him in the eye, " You see, James has a way with establishing friendships with other gangs around the area. West of here is a gang of Mexican outlaws who more than likely know his next move."

"So we're gonna go kill us some Beaners?" A huge evil grin appeared on Eli's lips at the idea of it,

"If they don't tell us where the hell James is headin."

All the while a shadowy figure was perched in the distance. It wasn't too far, close enough to potentially hear those around the fire but far enough that it was nothing but a shadow in the dark. It was a woman in a floral dress. A dress with a holster much like the others strapped around her waste and a distinct hat that is associated with the western people to match the Texan boots. In the distance she sat with her arms around her legs.

Her name was Sarah Lee, and it wasn't odd at all for her to distance herself from the rest of them. Every night they spent at a makeshift camp it was normal for her to wander off and find herself surrounded by darkness and cool air. They would stare for a moment too admire her beauty, but were soon distracted by the fact that they could have her any moment they wished. That made her that less desirable. She didn't mind it, as long as she had a moment alone with the winds she was content with her life as their whore.

Something about the quiet prairie brought out a life within her. Each breath she took while resting tingled inside her wind pipes, causing her to shiver in delight. Watching the dark mountains in the distance seem to sway in the light of the moon was a sight she wouldn't sell for all the stars in the sky. Tonight they shone brighter than usual. Each a twinkling white flame dangling above her head, farther than she could comprehend. She closed her eyes to absorb the wonders.

A scream followed by intense laughter caused Sarah to jerk her head almost 180 degrees around. She sighed in relief to find that it was only Maria, obviously allowing the men to have their way with her. Both of the women were seen as designated whores for the men to have their way with. It was basically their only way of being allowed into the gang. It wasn't too bad, but each had their own reasons for it. Maria's was a love for attention. She seemed to enjoy her job much more than Sarah, and was much more "dedicated" to pleasing her men. Because of this, they often enjoyed having their Latina around and had no problem with Sarah wandering off. Sometimes they'd even wonder why they kept her around,

"Sarah?" Her eyes widened as she heard the familiar Spanish voice. It soothed her, but at the same time made her question what he was doing over here. Why was he not enjoying himself with the others,

"Yes, Miguel?" She found him crouched beside her in a moment,

"Don't you think you'd enjoy this very beautiful evening not so… secluded."

He was always so sincere alone. But around in public he would be just as egotistical and immature as the rest of them. That aside he was a very likable guy. Charming people was his specialty, especially the ladies. Maybe it was the fact that Sarah was the only one who hadn't fallen for him as quick and as hard as the rest that kept him going after her. Even then, she wasn't too keen on his company,

"Secluded?" She sent a sarcastic look through the darkness not caring if he could see. It could be quite humorous to the normal person to hear them speak, for each had their own accent. Sarah with her southern slang, not as strong for she had grown up as a wealthy and educated southern child, and Miguel with his Spanish accent,

"Alone, distanced…" He smiled, "You know what I mean, Baby."

"Baby?" She questioned with another sarcastic smile with a laugh to match, "I am not your Baby."

"Then what are you?"

"I am not your anything!" It wasn't an angry protest, only one meant to put him in his place. The two of them did not despise one another. In fact Miguel was quite fond of her. Sarah only joked with him and saw him as an immature man that was the same was the rest.

The two stared into each others eyes for a moment. It was the pleading look he often gave her that he used on most other girls to woo them. And it worked, on all but her. She merely continued to cock an eyebrow at him as if to ask "Really?" Seeing as how his gaze was not affecting her, he lifted a hand to touch her head. His fingers played with her hair before she had a second to resist,

"Come on, Sarah. You'll have more fun with the rest of us." She slapped his hand down, leaning in to emphasize the request to leave her alone,

"No." He was still, then with a smile he lunged for her,

"That's it." Before she knew it, he had wrapped his arms under her and had begun to carry her back to camp. She kicked and flailed her arms, a huge grin on her lips,

"Miguel you put me down right now or so help me!"

"You're so feisty, Sarah."

"Yeah and I'll kick your ass!"

"If only you knew how excited that made me…"

He finally released her on the ground next to the campfire. The presence of so many people made her uncomfortable to say the least. There was Sam, Eli, Miguel, Maria, and to top it off the one who intimidated her the most, Freddie. It wasn't that she was scared but rather that something about him seemed to spark something inside her. Every glance they shared caused her face to flush as she would look away and drown herself in her own silence.

The thrilled Maria threw her hands in the air, also forcing the hands of Eli to release her breasts,

"Sarah! Welcome back to the party!" She laughed at her own ditzy proclamation. None of the other men seemed to notice her arrival. All but Freddie,

"Now now, Maria. We wouldn't want to scare her off again." He cocked his head over to her, his eyes gazing into hers as he almost seemed to seduce her. She didn't mind it,

"I'm not frightened so easily."

"Really?" She looked back with the same expression, causing the young leader to chuckle as he turned his attention back to prodding the fire.

That night, after all had fallen asleep, Freddie had advanced on the young woman. With little protest, and with little choice, she succumbed to him. It wasn't often that pleasure was shared with true feelings or with the intention of anything close to love. This was no exception. It was just the way things were.