I smoothed out the skirt of my favorite dress as I stood in front of my bedroom mirror. Black and purple, cut off at the shoulder...I always felt like the most beautiful woman in the world when I wore it. John disliked it because it was something I wore when I performed at saloons. He said it was too revealing.
My hair was misbehaving, not staying in any sort of bun, so I'd tied part of it back with a length of black silk ribbon.
I was about to spritz on some lilac perfume when I heard a barrage of gunshots coming from outside. Without hesitation, I grabbed my pistol and headed to the yard. The shots seemed to be coming from somewhere overhead. I whipped around. There was Billy, sitting cross-legged on the bunkhouse roof with a pistol in each hand, laughing like a hyena. I could have strangled him!
"Regulators!" shouted John as he ran out the back door. "Let's dance." Glancing upward, he added, "Please come down from the roof, William. But be careful how you do it. You wouldn't want the town girls to see you in a ripped suit."
Billy stood up and jumped from the roof, landing on all fours like a cat. He wiggled his eyebrows a few times as he looked over my dress, then bent to kiss my hand. He said I looked as beautiful as a flower blossom.
"Which of you gentlemen would like to accompany Miss Riddle to the party?" asked John.
"I do!" shouted Charley, waving his hand in the air.
"No, I will," said Billy, shoving Charley.
"I'd sure like to dance with that piece of calico," said McCloskey, leering at my chest. McCloskey arrived yesterday. John seems to think he's all right, but there's something about him I don't trust.
John held up his palm for silence as the squabble threatened to get violent. "I think we should let the lady decide."
I paced through the yard, looking over each of the boys, all of whom were wearing new (or at least clean) clothes. My eyes landed on Chavez, looking very handsome with his hair in a ponytail.
"I'm taking Chavez," I said.
"Me?" Chavez pointed to himself, looking a little confused.
"HIM!" the other boys howled.
"The lady has spoken," John declared as he climbed in the wagon.
With a boost from Chavez, I mounted Storm Cloud, riding astride instead of sidesaddle. Propriety be damned; it's a pain in the ass to control a horse from that position. The boys and I left the ranch, following John and the wagon.
Once at the party, we all went our seperate ways. Billy quickly struck up a conversation with the prettiest town girl in attendance. Steve,
Charley, and McCloskey wanted to drink. John talked to his lawyer friend Alex McSween and Susan, Alex's wife. I love dancing, so I pulled Chavez toward the dance floor.
"I don't dance very well," he said uncomfortably.
"All you need is a little practice," I said.
We found a place among the other couples, where I taught Chavez a basic two-step. I spotted Billy with the town girl. Billy was dancing like a maniac, flapping his arms like a chicken and jumping about as though there were hot coals beneath his feet. After the fast song ended, the band struck up a slower tune. Unfortunately, Chavez wasn't much of a waltzer and kept treading on my feet.
The Regulators managed to get through three-quarters of the evening before we ran into any trouble. Charley saw a fella named El Loco shove John when John got in his way. Then El Loco challenged Charley to a fight. El Loco took some heavy blows to his head, then Charley pushed him into a card table. Poker chips flew everywhere as El Loco crashed to the ground, inches away from the bonfire near the dance floor. And Charley? Not a single scratch on him; he wasn't even out of breath!
"Happy New Year!" shouted the band leader suddenly.
Men drew their guns and fired rounds into the air; firecrackers were set off under our feet. Horses all over the block were scared witless. John checked his pocketwatch.
"Gentlemen, m'lady, I think we shall call this evening. Let's go home."
As we rode across a prairie, the boys struck up a drunken, off-key rendition of "Auld Lang Syne." We were laughing at nothing in particular, just savoring the fun we'd had at the dance. Suddenly, a turkey darted in front of us.
"Breakfast!" Charley yelled.
The chase was on. We dug on heels into our horses, guns at the ready. Billy hung back with John, but John must have told him to join us, because two seconds later I heard the hooves of Billy's palamino colt pounding behind me. Out of nowhere, a posse appeared on the ridge. I tried to call out a warning to John, but the posse emptied their shotguns into his body before I got the words out. John crumpled to the ground, dead. So did the carthorse.
"You bastards!" screamed Billy, poising to shoot.
"There's too many of them!" said Doc. "Let's get out of here!"
I tried to turn Storm Cloud, but my hands were shaking too badly. Chavez, noticing my difficulties, borrowed a lasso from Charley, which he used to tie his saddlehorn to mine. I wanted to vomit, but knew I couldn't in front of the boys; not after how much I'd bragged about having a strong stomach.
I was numb with disbelief. The man who'd become my second father was dead. Silent tears streamed down my face.
Whoever murdered John would have hell to pay...