Author's Note: It's been a while since I've done something like this, so please bare with me. Any constructive criticism would be nice.

Dirt.

That was the main smell that wafted up to the rounded, semi pixie like nose with the dented scar just at the tip curve. Every inch of of her, from full lips down to her boots was covered in a forest pattern, and head was covered just the same, save for the few tufts of bangs above her right brow. Green eyes narrowed and squinted against the wind as a gun lay secure across her lap, a bright orange vest the only stark contrast to the camouflage. She hadn't moved an inch in that tree stand for five hours or more. Her body was cramping up, and she was getting cold with the large gusts blowing her way. She, like many a hunter, was waiting for the big one. The buck that was wide across in rack, ten points or more with gorgeous tall tines, hell even drop tines would be nice. She waited ever so patiently for that large animal's body to appear from the brush so she could get a clear shot. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage and there was the coldest sweat on her palms…but it wasn't because she saw him. No.

Sadly, for Heather, her heart was pounding because she was afraid of heights.

The brunette hadn't moved for hours not only because she was still new to hunting, but because she wasn't used to a tree stand. She hated the idea of being out like this, and she was far more comfortable on the ground in the blind that had been set up for her initially. But damn if her uncle hadn't swung by to use it with his grandson. And who was she to deny him that? She'd tried to opt out of hunting that day altogether; the wind was getting worse as the day progressed, but it was to no avail. Once her father had someone in a hobby he was fond of…it was hard to get out of it.

The low volume of a Walkie Talkie crackled against her side and she let her gaze drop to the voice, which sounded like her dads.

"Think we'll call it a day." She very slowly pulled near freezing fingers from their mitten confines, reaching for the crackling device after flexing her fingers. "Wind's too much and I think we need to get some lunch."

She was about to push the button when her Uncle's mumbled response came on, something of an 'Okay'. She was more than happy honestly, but all it meant was that she'd have to climb down the makeshift ladder. She hated ladders, hated heights. Why did she even agree to the tree stand!?

She looked up, tugged down the mask from her face and gave a soft breath of clean fresh air. It made her wince though, the cold stinging her throat temporarily as she shifted about. It was chilly for early November; however, she had to remind herself that this was Ohio, and Mother Nature had a habit of pulling the rug out from under the Ohioan civilians...at least in regards to weather.

The safety was put on her gun, the strap of the weapon then tied to a rope that had been hooked to the stand so she could slowly lower it down to the ground until it rested safely upon the moss and leaves below. She was just about to move herself, when the crash of leaves made her tense and jerk her head up.

And there he was. Her throat tightened up as a doe bounced along, moving with that agile grace she admired them for, but her attention moved to the monster that moved along after her. It looked almost like he had branches on his head, rather than antlers, and she had to bite her lip to keep still…not that he would notice. She sat with baited breath till the crashing of their hoofs on the forest floor had died off leaving her to sigh and slump back against the tree.

If she would've waited just a little longer…the brunette glared off after the two, giving a little huff and shifted to toss her gloves down to the ground beneath her. Aggravation clouded her, a leg swinging as she twisted around for her wooden plank, only to recall that she was in a tree stand again. Tension laced her system once again as she carefully placed her foot, the muscles in her legs trembling with anxiety. It wasn't even a ladder. That was the worst part. 'Climbing sticks' were far worse, in her opinion, and she eased her other leg down, gripping with white knuckles onto the metal of her stand and then soon the little pegs themselves.

She never once counted on one of them breaking.

A yelp left her as her hands tightened, but the sweat on her fingers earned her grip to lessen, her other boot giving with its bulky toe.

The things people think of when they timber to the ground, is a strange thing. As she felt her back heading for the ground, she found her mind drifting to a time when she was twelve. A runner sled at her stomach, she was racing down a hill with no way of turning the device at all, the screams of her father to 'Bail out' were muffled by wind in her ears as she headed straight for the trees. She couldn't remember much after that..other than her dad asking if she could hear him once she'd been rolled over.

But much like now, she blacked out before she even hit the ground…at least she thought so.

Boots thudded lightly on the wooden porch in the front of the Sheriff's office, the woman placing her hands upon her hips, and her pale eyes squinting up at the bright sun before looking out at her small town. There was the doctor walking by, the dress bright against the sun and a nice contrast to the dark curls upon her head. Jenny smiled at her, and offered a nod and wave when she was given one. The two women across the way, tall broad shouldered sisters working at their metal, as blacksmiths should…it looked like maybe they were working on some shoes for a few horses. Probably the Bakers'…

The all women territory was paradise to her, and she took a deep breath, only for the peace to be disturbed by the dark skinned woman running as fast as she could.

"Casey, what's wrong?"

"Sheriff Jenny! Jus'- come quick!" The woman remarked, taking off running all over again.

The blonde woman narrowed her eyes at this very idea. She wouldn't even tell her what was wrong? At a low jog, she took off after the saloon's owner, soon seeing the reason for the urgency along the road from out of town. A body was lying there, sprawled and near mangled it seemed. Her legs worked faster when she noted the swell of a bust, and the shoulder length hair. It was a woman, for sure.

She halted beside the unconscious figure with a skid of her boots, crouching down and inspecting the pale skin, that contrasted with the dirty black shirt and dark pants. "Where'd she come from?" she questioned, sliding two fingers to the young woman's throat just below her jaw. She had a pulse at least, thank goodness, and that made Jenny breathe a sigh of relief.

"Dunno," Casey remarked, "Found here like this…" she looked up with a frown marring her features, brows furrowed. "She's got some strange clothes, Sheriff…lookit her boots…"

Jenny did look, the thick material of dark brown and black leather stained, odd strings lacing up the front of them. Looking them over with a squint, she noted the bottoms with what looked like small protrusions from the soul Not only that, but the toe was rounded, not square or pointed…

"She still needs help regardless." Jenny jerked her head towards town, "Get the Doctor and the Schwenke sisters. I won't have someone die just because they've got odd shoes. Not on my watch."

She watched as Casey went off into town, turning to the unconscious woman who stirred at the touch of a hand on her face.

"..Whuh.."

"Shh, you're alright," she said quietly, watching green eyes squint open against the sun that her hunched figure shielded a little. "What's your name?"

"..Heather," it mumbled out on a hushed breath, a wince coming to the round face. "Wher'm I?" the words slurred out as she slipped in and out, green eyes rolling back slowly.

"Well..." Jenny frowned a little and she merely shook her head, running fingers through the messy dark brown of the stranger's hair, frowning when she found wet and sticky. Sure enough, a bit of blood smeared the pads of her fingers when she pulled them back. "You're safe. That's all that matters," pale eyes twisted their focus to the sound of pounding footsteps, Katrina and Ilsa mumbling out and narrowing their eyes in concern at the new woman. "We're takin' her to my place. Did Casey get Quintano?"

A universal nod went through between the Schwenke siblinbs, the two of them hoisting the shot but somewhat hefty young woman into their arms, following after Jenny as they got the pale figure out of the heat.

Rosa Quintano wasn't far behind, and Jenny was thankful for her skills in medicine. Barely needing a stitch, they had the brunette resting in the guest room, and she seemed to be breathing easy. Jenny had to politely shoo Casey away despite the worries of the stranger. She was a woman, they had to assume she was looking for this place, hopefully. She wasn't armed either, which was odd for someone out here. And her shirt and her pants were odd for the material they were made from...

It was bad enough that they had those men arrive about a month ago with that god awful contraption, though there were two at least that seemed to make a return visit. They weren't too bad, the professor was enjoyed by Katrina and Ilsa, and that Bowler fella seemed to catch the eye of Casey after he'd saved her life. He didn't swing by all that often, unless he was after a bounty. The other ones though... She wasn't sure if she liked the idea of their little 'ghost town' being noticed more and more by the public. The thought had her eyes narrowed out the window from her seat by the bed, only until she caught a groan from her newest guest. Attention snapped off to her right, Jenny moved and gingerly scooted her seat closer to the bedside.

Once more, blue green eyes started to flutter and open, only to wince a little with a hiss. The woman who was calling herself 'Heather' let her head roll from one side and then the other, as her gaze seemed slightly out of focus. "What..?" her voice sounded dry, cracked even and she scrunched her face with a cough.

"Easy miss," Jenny remarked, picking up the cloth at the water bowl on the bedside stand. Wringing the rag out, she let it rest a moment on Heather's forehead. "Doc says you shouldn't move much. You've got quite the mark on the back of your head...you said your name was Heather, right?"

"Yeah," the brunette sputtered out from a cough, a deep clear breath taken soon after as her mind seemed to reign her back in. "...Where's my Dad?"

Jenny frowned a little at this, pulling the rag back and setting it back next to the bowl of water. "You were found alone..no man in sight around here." Maybe this girl's being here was an accident. How likely was it that they'd been ambushed by someone? That thought alone had the Sheriff tensing her shoulders, a new slew of questions dancing through her mind.

"Wha-?" The brunette squinted, shifting and squirming in attempts to sit up, but a firm hand from Jenny kept her at bay. The stranger seemed to be taking in her surroundings now, her face seeming to inspect the way that candles and open windows let sunlight in. How there wasn't much for the room honestly, given it was a guest's bed. Wooden bed posts, hand carved. "Where am I? What time is it..?"

The poor girl must've hit her head hard. Rosa had warned Jenny about the product of that, but she stood her ground, the blonde standing and folding her arms over her chest while tilting her head at the brunette who fixed her gaze at her face. "..It's noon," she replied calmly. "And in case you're wondering, it's the year 1893 too." She didn't think the woman could grow any paler, and yet it happened just the same.

"And you're in No Man's Land."

Author's Note: Well there you have it. The first chapter. Again, I wouldn't mind any sort of feedback. As a warning this will probably be a slow starter, so bear with me.