You wanted Jo? I'll give you Jo! No seriously I love her too.
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He stares at me like I'm an item rather then a girl! He looks like he wants to buy me or something! I am not for sale, pal!
Meg tried concentrating on fixing up three rowdy men with some drinks. It WAS her job after all. But no. Nothing was going right today.
First she woke up late and was yelled at by the other girls. Apparently they lost tips because they had to work the bar rather then flirt.
Then when she finally got to working she dropped five shot glasses full of expensive whiskey. No doubt that it would be taken from her usual small salary.
And now the worst possible thing was happening. A barely sober, slurred, pervert kept eyeing her up and down. He had been sitting at the end of the bar checking out her slender figure the entire time she had been trying to makeup for her previous mishaps.
He whistled her over when seeing she was done serving the other customers. She flashed a fake smile and walked over. This could be a chance to finally make more money…No way! She was to empowered for that!
"Can I help you, sir?" Her adorable, sweet voice chimed.
He kept looking at her from top to bottom, "Yeah, sweetie. How's about you and me have us a little private party. I could show you a real good time."
She kept her embarrassment and anger hidden behind that smile. Yet beneath the surface she was furious.
How dare he! I AM NOT a tool! You can't use me when you want and then leave me! You can't, you can't, you can't!
It almost made a few tears drop from her beautiful blue eyes. She was angry and upset…very angry and upset. Not only was she talking to another pathetic man but he had brought back memories of her father leaving after he was done using her mother. Okay maybe he didn't "use" her but he still had no right to give her a child then abandon half of his responsibilities.
"So how's about it, honey?"
Unknown to Meg he lifted his leg up behind her and gently kicked her lower back. She stumbled towards him, gasping from the scare and blushing fearfully.
"Come on baby. I won't bite…unless you want me to." He winked at her.
She wanted to smack him until she realized that her job was on the line. More so then that is no one would care about her personal feelings, why she hit him. They wouldn't care that her dad left and gave her a bad picture of men and that's why she socked him. They wouldn't care about a stupid, childish, worthless saloon girl. A girl that didn't make any money like she was suppose to. A girl that, if found dead, wouldn't be missed. They would side with the man and tell her to get lost. She couldn't defend herself or stand up for her beliefs.
He tugged on the bottom of her short red dress. Sometimes rubbing his fingers across it. Meg simply held her head low and prayed someone would stop him. She couldn't do anything but if another customer started a fight she couldn't interfere either.
That fairytale man of my dreams. He really needs to ride in on a black horse and save me! Now would be a great time!
And as though heaven had heard Meg's plea the double doors of the saloon swung open. The music stopped playing, the noisy chatter ceased and the world seemed to just stop. Everyone's heads turned to see the mysterious figure walking casually up to the bar. Meg's eyes lit up as they passed her on the way. She had a saint that needed a drink!
"Sorry." She cheerfully said and pulled away from the drunk.
She skipped around the corner just as the stranger sat down.
"What can I get you? We have the best whiskey for another hundred miles or so. I can serve you immediately…" She trailed off when seeing why everyone was so shocked at the stranger in the first place.
It wasn't they clothes they wore. The short red chaps, and red cowboy boots, the black cowboy hat, the shining black shirt, or the long red overcoat. No it was because of the figure of this wanderer.
Tilting the hat up, Meg could now see that this wasn't an ordinary customer. She was serving an exceptional looking girl gunfighter.
"Shot of your hardest stuff. A tall cold one too." Her voice wasn't to deep yet not to soft. It wasn't a saint's voice to the stunned young girl.
"C-coming right up…ma'am." She turned and searched to find the most expensive brand of whiskey. It was hardest but at a large price. She followed up by pouring a large mug of beer for the young lady.
"Enjoy." She slid it to her.
She lightly shook the silver bangs from her face and nodded.
When she reached for the glass her coat slipped up a bit. It revealed some kind of glowing purple wrapped skin tight around her wrist. Meg's mouth dropped opened slightly. The glow was amazing, she had never seen a piece of jewelry that could shine like that. It must have cost a pretty penny to be that glamorous.
The girl's coat went back in place when she slid her drink closer. Meg finally came our of her daze and smiled.
"I like your bracelet. It's incredible." She blushed.
The woman looked at her with curious eyes until she pieced together what the girl was talking about. She simply laughed then took her shot. The beer quickly followed.
"So what's a chain like that cost? Probably a lot, huh?" She nervously began a conversation when seeing the pig from earlier still sitting in his place.
The woman's red eyes beamed up into the bright blue ones.
"More then you know." She didn't sound rude yet that's how the statement came out.
"O-oh…" She glanced over to see the man eyeing her again.
"Umm so what's a girl like yourself doing around here? It's pretty rough, you have to be tough or be eaten." She giggled.
"I…I had some work to do. But I'm maybe going to stay around for a couple days." She winced as a small sharp pain tickled her side. It hadn't been aching as bad as the previous night so she ignored it.
"Staying in town? We have a little hotel owned by our sheriff and his wife." The conversation was slow but Meg was becoming more entranced by this newcomer. Her clothes gave off a feeling of danger, her way of speaking, her voice and her very presence had something interesting about it. Plus there was no other girl in the entire town that would speak to Meg. She wanted to have a chat and this girl was better then nothing.
"Probably stay there then." She looked exhausted.
It wasn't long before she stood up and began heading for the door. The second she did the more-sober idiot started walking towards Meg. She squeaked and jumped over the counter, following her customer.
"Hey." She lightly gripped the taller woman's shoulder.
She turned and looked down at her with bored eyes.
"The hotel I was talking about. It's kind of expensive. You're welcome to stay with me a night. It won't cost a dime." She smiled.
She looks like she can take a punch. Maybe help me out or something. This guy scares me but I think SHE scares him!
"Sure."
Meg giggled when hearing that beautiful word.
"This way." She gently took the girl's hand and led her through the saloon, making people stare and whisper. They went up the stairs and into Meg's room before anyone could start trouble about two girl's spending the night with one another.
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'click'.
'thump'.
'thump'.
Meg sat on her bed, her back turned to the new girl as she took off of her heavy clothing. She wasn't intending to remove all of it, only the heavier stuff.
Finally Meg turned, hoping she wouldn't embarrass the woman. It felt strange having another person in her usually private room. It was even more weird that she had no idea who this girl was, where she was from or her name! But the red head's fear of the man down stairs over shadowed knowing the girl who would be sleeping beside her tonight.
"Woah." Meg slipped when seeing the opposite female take off her trench coat, revealing two holsters slipped on her chaps. And in those holsters were a mean set of guns.
The silver haired girl laughed, "You like?"
"Yeah I mean well I've never seen guns like those before." She blushed.
"Desert Eagles. Get the job done." She unsnapped her holsters and placed them on a neatly folded pile of her clothes. Her coat was on bottom, her hat followed, her holsters and her boots placed beside them. She kept her chaps, skimpy underwear beneath them, and small shirt on.
"You carry those all the time?" Meg nervously made her way to the closet and grabbed another short nightgown from the four she owned. She closed the door, only leaving a crack so she could get dressed semi-privately.
"Yeah." She slumped down into the bed and rested her head on one of the two pillows. It felt good compared to the hard ground she had slept on the night before. Now she hoped her side injury would heal faster so she could go back home.
Meg returned from the closet and lay beside the unnamed girl.
"I never got to ask but what's your name?"
She looked at her, "Jo."
"Meg." She smiled.
"Pleasure." Jo joked and rolled over, her back to Meg.
It was obvious that she was really tired, more tired then the saloon girl by far.
Truthfully, the blue eyed girl wasn't tired at all, she only took the night off to hide out from drunk loser. But she wasn't bored or irritated at all right now. She was more amazed and curious then anything.
A girl gunfighter? A cowGIRL? That's not something you see everyday! And I bet she's tough too! Those clothes are pretty heavy and bulky yet she wears them like they were weightless. And those guns…they must be hard to handle but she slipped the holsters off cheery-like. Then that attitude. She really must be something else. Maybe a bank robber or a country wide thief! That bracelet was worth at least…
Meg sat up and looked over Jo's shoulder. The bracelet was gone! She didn't see her take if off so where on earth was it? It vanished!
Or maybe she's a witch. Trying to hide out so they don't burn her at the stake!
Meg's imagination went wild for a moment, little did she know her heart was racing from adrenalin. Just thinking of the danger Jo had faced was enough to make her rowdy. She knew she had to calm down though. She had work tomorrow and didn't need another repeat of today. Besides this girl was probably just a regular woman, no special witch powers, no robberies, no country thieving, and no specialty gun fighting skill. Meg forgot how she over exaggerated things sometimes. Part of her innocent, child behavior. She drifted off while still fighting the crazy ideas floating around her mind.
Jo couldn't be a witch. She had no broom.
Jo couldn't be a robber. She had no getaway plan.
Jo couldn't be a thief. She had no bags of jewels.
Little did Meg know that sometimes…
Angels carry guns.
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