I was sitting on a bench, waiting for the next train out of Blackwater to Armadillo, while reading a newspaper. Suddenly she was sitting beside me, prodding at my arm.

"You're Jack Marston, right?"

I nodded and set my newspaper down to look at her. The first thing I noticed about her was what she was wearing. It was a fancy dark pink dress, so dark it was almost red. No women in Blackwater wore red, not even the girls working at the saloon. Yet there she was, her dress that was not exactly red sticking out in Blackwater like a sore thumb.

The second thing I noticed about her was her face. She was very pale in comparison to me, which made me realize just how browned by the sun I was. She had long black hair that curled down her shoulders, and grey eyes that made me feel uncomfortable. She was real pretty, like the women you see in pictures, or the women who live in the city. A face like hers- unscarred, unfreckled, made up to look nice -wasn't something you saw often anywhere in this country.

Suddenly overcome with nervousness, I glanced around. She had to have a husband or father ready to gut me for even looking at her. She laughed and moved closer to me. Her laugh was very clear and loud.

"Tell me, what's it like being a cowboy?" Her accent was strange. I couldn't place it. "You're one of the famous cowboys around here, you know. Not as famous as your father or Landon Ricketts, no offense, but still famous. I like your story better. Well, not necessarily better, but-"

"I'm not a cowboy." I told her.

"Of course you are." She laughed again. "You're a typical lone cowboy."

"I abandoned my ranch. I don't work on a ranch anymore and I don't tend to cattle." I shook my head. "I'm none of the things that makes up a cowboy."

She shrugged. "Well, no matter what you think, you are a cowboy." She glanced around. "So, what are you doing? Going to Armadillo?" I nodded hesitantly. She grinned and moved even closer to me. "You should let me go with you. It would make my mother so mad! I need some excitement in my life, anyway. I've never been to Armadillo. Is it nice?"

"I'm not sure you'd like it, miss."

"Oh," She drew her hand back and adjusted her dress. "My name is Pearl Edith Ramsey. My father is Phillip Ramsey, he's an attorney in town. He says he's going to run for governor in the next election, but even if he does he probably won't win. He's good at lying, but not that good." She laughed again.

"Uh, well I'm not sure that's such a good idea. You don't even know who I am, and I'm sure your father would get me in a lot of trouble of something happened to you." I folded up my newspaper and heard the train approaching.

"Nonsense." She grinned, standing up and stepping on the train as it stopped at the station. "Well, I'm going with you, whether you like it or not. It's been a long time since I've had some real fun." I felt I had no choice but to follow her.

By the end of the night, she had passed out in my bed in the Armadillo Saloon after a long day of gambling with money I didn't know she had, and winning. I slept in the smaller bed across from her. I didn't mind, as long as her father doesn't plan on shooting me or throwing me in jail when she gets home.