Whitey Winn leaned against the paneled wall silently admiring Louise. Taking In how the light glinting against every bouncy curl. Fully aware this was most likely the last time he would enjoy her unearthly beauty. His thumb ran across his chapped bottom lip. A phantom tingle remained from that incredible feeling of kissing those fluffy pieces of heaven. His hands itched to re-live that feeling, immortalize it in his mind once last time. Because then he could die with that feeling coursing through his body. He would die a hell of a happy man. One last stolen kiss before he went home to his maw and paw. Forgoing public image, he reached out for his girl. Pulling in the preoccupied young woman by her waist, tight against his chest. He breathed in her enchanting aroma of lilies. With a wide smile ten times brighter than the sun. She tenderly creased his stubbled cheek with her free hand. Peering up into his cloudy blue eyes. Standing on her tippy toes to lesion the gap in their heights. A silver revolver dangled by her side in her other hand. He took the lead this time. Dipping down he pressed his lips against hers. She greedily returned the kiss. Her hand slipping around his neck burying into his dirty blonde locks. He could feel her heart thudding against his chest through their clothes. His heart swallowed unchained by joy. He would die the happiest man on earth. The rest of the hotel parlor buzzed with chaos as Mary rushed around attempting to rally up the terrified women. Straighten their stances and passing any extra ammo she managed to scrounge up. Their time had come, the bitter smell of chopper came in with a dust cloud. Hell was coming. Reluctantly he forced himself to break free from their passionate embrace with the will power of a stallion. He picked up his hat he'd placed on the entry table when he came in, slapping the dust off it. Racking his greasy hair back with his fingers he placed it on top of his head. Tipping the top of the hat towards her he grinned out from under the brim. "I've got to get going now. After all, I'm the deputy of this here town and I'll be damned if anyone's just gonna ride through here without facing me first. You go on and get somewhere and hunker down." He paused for a minute looking at the tears swelling in her coal eyes. "Give'em hell" he added turning towards the door. His spurs managed a single click against the hardwood before Mary stopped him dead in his tracks. Arms folded across her chest somehow looking double her size and twice as fortified as a wooden door. "I'll be dead and damned if you think I'm going to let you walk out there to die a fool's death Whitey". She looked more likely to kill him than a pissed-off rattlesnake. He huffed lopping this thumb onto his belt. "Mary I don't want to have to move you. You know I don't want to do that". This time it was the familiar click of a loaded gun that stopped him. He could feel the barrel starring him down. Louise's hands were good for more than just playing the fiddle. The gun stayed steady on its target. "I've lost just about everyone I've loved. So, either you throw that fruitless pride of yours out the window. Or am liable to blow your leg off and wheel you down to the mine with the children." Whitey had a confusing mixture of emotions stranding him somewhere better pissed and aroused. If they survived this, he was sure this wouldn't be the last time she would have that effect on him. Outgunned he tossed his hands up in surrender. Shaking his head to mask a faint smile spread across his rosy lips. "Ladies I don't know how I'm going to live with myself if I'm not at that jailhouse to face these Basterds". Marry patted him on the shoulder as she passed headed up the staircase to the roof.
"A lot easier than if you die out there in the dirt". Outsmarted and outgunned he shut the double front doors turning back towards his pretty little thing. "Go on upstairs and for god sakes keep your head down". With a blush and a peak on the cheek, she was gone. He hoped he would live to see that dress swoosh as she walked one more time.
Getting his thoughts straight he drugged a heavy pine dresser from the wall tipping it onto its side in front of the staircase. He took a knee behind it counting out the bullets in his vest pocket. 32 bullets not counting what's loaded in his chamber. That's one for each one of those rotten men. Whitey decided if they both survived till tomorrow. He would get back into this position and ask that girl to marry him. Get her a proper house one down near Blackdon. That way she would be near that pond that's surrounded by lilies that she loves so much. The ground shock beneath the heard of heavy hooves. It sounded like the roar of a land slide making its way into their deserted town. Whitey remembered when the military road through town. His father hoisted him up onto his broad shoulders so he could see past the crowd. He cheered as the union regiment rolled through heading home. He could feel the same tingly feeling of the vibration travel up his body rattling his bones. Once again, an army strolled through La Belle, this time the town was eerily silent. The horses clamored to a halt. He could see the men dismounting in vibrantly in his head. Hands cupped together looking through the dust coated window of the jail house. Finding it jail cells empty of prisoners. The thin windowpanes of the Hotel where fogged by the dust storm the horses had kicked up outside. A thick lump of guilt stuck in his throat knowing he should be at his post. Standing tall ready to face those evil bastards regardless of what kind of death he would face. The woman's mirrored sniffles came from both sides of the room. Bright cherry noses and shiny faces surrounded him. Their brows bore were a tiny bit less creased in his presents. It helped lift the elephant off his chest know him being her helped ease their feel. Even if it was only a fraction of an inch. Someone remained laser focused on the window. Clinching their weapons tight. Riffles aimed and ready to pierce through skin. They were all fighters ready and willing to defend this town. Women who had lost everything stood strong displaying their ability to overcoming anything this godless land had instore for them. The horses stamped closer stopping once more in the middle of town. He could hear a ragged voice call out. "where the hell is everyone?". We're here you dirty devils and we've got something for you. Straighten up his croaked belt drooping loosely on his slander hips he strode over to the door. Silhouettes of bobbing heads emerged as the cloud started to settle. 1,2,3,4,5, yeah there was at least 28 heavily armed men out there. Unholstering his shiny white handled revolvers. He spun them between his nibble fingers warming everything up. A trick he'd been practicing long before his father trusted him with a real gun. His fake plastic badge had now been replaced with a real shiny silver one. Catching the orange evening glow. He pushed open the doors taking in the gang of men mounted high on their horses with steel gray eyes. The one slightly ahead of the pack leaned forward. Propping one arm up on the point of the saddle. His shirt sleeve dangling in the wind where another arm once resided. "where is Roy boy? If you listen to me and we might make your death a quick one. You can save some of these fine folks a whole lot of pain". "My name ain't boy it's Whitey, Whitey Winn". His finger came done hard on both triggers. Thrusting the world into actions. Like a match tossed into some dry underbrush everything ignited. Windows screeched open and bullets rang out littering the street. Gun powder hung in the air stinging his eyes. People coughed and wheezed. The drawn-out final cries of agony died out as men slide from the back of their horses onto the cold dirt. Whitey dropped two men; their bodies fell limp like a shack of potato's. A knife whizzed through the air sticking into the flesh of his right arm just below the shoulder. Damn near hitting his chest dead center. If not for a stray bullet knocking the man off trajectory, he would be joining the bodies covering the street. A bright sheering hot pain blossomed in his leg as a bullet ripped clean though. Stumbling he forced his self to keep firing shots as he collapsed though the thresh hold back into the hotel. Bullets ripped through the air around him. Retreating further into the safety of the building to reload. Once he was clear of the opening. His back pressed flat against a wall. Chucks of splintered wood rained down on top of his head. As bullets smashed through the wood leaving circular holes of light. Opening the chamber empty shells scattered across the floor. With shaky blood-stained hands, he fished out new ones from his vest pocket. Suddenly the clank of hooves against wood distracted him as a horse and rider busted through the open door. He shielded his face in the crock of his arm from the Debra swept inside. The rider put a bullet between Miss Magdalen's forehead. She crumbled over as if she were cowering in the corner. Whitey leaned against the wall scrambling upright. Leaving bloody handprints in his wake. Pain radiated up his leg into his hip bone in protest. The trickle of warm blood oozed from the small hole. Soaking into the only decent pair of blue jeans he owned. He slapped the revolver closed with only the two bullets he'd managed to load in the chamber. Both men lifted their weapons as quick as the devil. One shot was fired adding to the gun powder that hung in a gray smoke cloud. One man dropped as dead as a door post. Squinting one eye closed he shot the spooked horse dead between its beady eyes. Lapping his dry tonged across his peeling lips. The metallic taste churned his stomach. If he had anything for breakfast it would've been all over the fraying floral print rug. "Sorry old fella, you didn't deserve that". The horse's amorous carcass served an important purpose. Landing with a thudded in the wide doorway prevent anymore mounts from entering in. Wobbling like a damn chicken as discreetly as his screaming leg allow him. He tapped Mrs. Annamae on the shoulder. The poor woman jumped out of her skin; swinging a gun at him. Her loose curls had become disheveled falling from the clip on her head. With all the adrenaline coursing through her veins the poor thing hadn't noticed she'd been shot in the shoulder. "Easy now it's just me! Get on upstairs and stay low" he yelled over the constant barrage of gunfire. She gave a jarring nod stumbling off in a daze. He took her post at the dining room window. After his pistols were fully loaded, he joined back into the fight. Instantly dropping one of the twisted brothers as he charged at a window on the other side of the building. "You piece of shit" the shorter still breathing brother cried out. Running at his window in a blind rage of grief. He shot the man once, the bullet blasting him in the side. It slowed him, he stumbled before regaining his footing and pouncing like a damn mountain lion right through the window. Crashing into Whitey sending them to the floor. His guns were flung from his hands. They tasseled around taking turns on top. "I'll kill you" he snarled baring his teeth. Again, and again until his voice cracked, and his throat was raw. Tobacco spit flew sprayed whitey in the face. Whitey never was one for smoking or dipping. The smell alone made him sicker than eating rat stew. He scrambled feeling blindly for his guns as the man above smashed his fist into his face. His nose crunched under the blows. Blood trickled down the back of his throat making him gag. The fist landed again drawing back with blood dripping off. Bucking his hips, he tried to throw the man off of him. He managed to make him slip only resulting in his knee coming down hard against his wounded leg. A howl tore from his lips. He drew back his head and slammed it into the man above him. Sending him spilling backwards on his ass. Feeling the cold metal of a gun his gun, he snatched it up. When the man sat back up blood running down his lips from his nose. He was meet with the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. That was the last thing he ever saw before it all faded black. The still warm body fell on top of Whitey. Exhausted he struggled to get the limp blood bag off of him. The undertakers weren't lying when they said a dead body doubled in weight. With a grunt he rolled it off. Beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. His right eye had already started to swell shut. Looking around in confusion everyone was moving comically slow around him. Ducking and reloading. A woman dropped to her knees in prayer. A shiny red river coming from the smoking hole in her head. He got back to his feet pushing off the overturned dresser. Almost wishing he was dead because of how tormented his body felt. He couldn't stop not yet, not when Louise was upstairs, and these low lives were still breathing. The high pitch ringing in his ears hushed, leaving only silence. If he could read and this was a book, he was sure he would be close to the last page with only the words THE END printed on them. Either La Bella was about to become another ghost town on the frontier. Or it was about to go down in history. Whichever way Whitey Winn isn't done fighting. With a foggy mind he checked his gun and reloaded it. Through the window he could see a man dressed in all black. Calmly standing tall in front of what remained of the gang. "all be damn Sheriff". The law was back in town. The hooves of a horse trotting were faintly heard. The fella with a missing arm snarled like a kicked dog. "Roy!" with that gunfire reignited in dazzling burst. Whitey limped over the horse and out onto the covered porch. With each step he lined up a shot with his good eye and fired. As the sheriff and Roy advanced from the sides boxing them in. They turned franticly on frightened horses. Looking every which a way for an escape. The only escape they would find was deaths cold embrace. Bullets rained down from windows. It tasted like he had ate a fist full of gun powder. If death had a chewing gum flavor this would be it. The sun was setting in an orange wildfire. Fluffy golden clouds trailed by overhead. A bullet grazed his arm. Another one nipped the tip of his ear clean off. The last one pierced through his side with enough force to sweep his feet out from underneath him. His head smashed against the dirt. Filling his vision with swirling stars. It didn't matter if he was dead, he had seen their dwindling numbers. They had won the fight. The women were safe to die another day. But not by the hands of these worthless dogs. He was aware of the wet pool forming around his bottom half. Somehow, he didn't mind dying like this, in the dirt. "God, I know I've never prayed before. I guess I've never had much of a reason." He had to stop for a second to bark out a cough that left blood on his chin. "But if you would look out for Miss Louise, I sure would apricate it". At some point the shooting had died out without him noticing. A tall silhouette lumbered over him eclipsing the light. "I sure hope this is heaven". He heard a warm husky chuckle; one he was very accustomed to. "Don't be so damn dramatic boy". The sheriff filthy mud splattered face came into sharp focus. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Making him beam like a fool "aint you a sight for sore eyes". "You look about as blind as I do now". They shared a laugh that brought on a liquid hot pain in his side. "Whitey" Louise screamed out in distress dropping to his side. She scoped up his head into her arm cradling him. Each gentle stroke she placed on his check relived his pain. "I'll go fetch the doctor; he will be just fine miss if his heart doesn't melt to mush. You two just stay put and try not to melt together". He looked over his shoulder towards Alice. Who was distracted helping Mary tend to the wounded? Then he unpinned his sheriffs' badge and bent down pinning it to Whiteys blood stained vest. "I quit". The two young lovers laughed until they cried holding each other tight. His knee was no good right now and mostly likely wouldn't be any use for a long time. So, improvising he kissed that girl with a all those feelings he'd had to kept bottled up. Looking into those big brown puppy dog eyes "Louise will you marry me?". She smiled softly "Loise Winn sounds just fine to me".