I walked in the open doorway of the general store, which had the same odd, yet comforting mix of smells that all stores had. I picked up a few white handkerchiefs; Chavez's arm needed to be wrapped in clean bandages soon. I hadn't cared for the way he'd been acting lately, too quiet. I knew Chavez would never admit it, but I thought the wound had weakened him. I hoped Billy would decide to spend a few days in White Oaks so Chavez could get some much needed bed rest.

My eyes fell upon the shelves and barrels of food next to the counter. I seized the ripest, reddest apple in the barrel and bit into it. I probably should have shown more dignity as a lady, but what the hell? I was in men's clothes anyway and no one would be the wiser. The clerk, the same awkward, bespectacled specimen employed in every store I'd seen, frowned disapprovingly at me. Coolly, I moved my coat aside to reveal the knife tucked into my gun belt. The clerk made a small noise, like a mouse being trodden on, but didn't say anything.

As I took another bite of apple, I got the feeling I was no longer alone in the store. I turned, coming face-to-face with a tall man dressed totally in black. He had dark hair, ice-blue eyes, and a short, neatly trimmed beard. I instantly recognized the man from posters I'd seen several towns ago: Pat Garrett for Sheriff. My heart pounded; this was not a good situation. He had to know who I was.

"Mighty powerful appetite for such a small gal," Garrett said with the ghost of a grin.

I swallowed and composed myself. It was time to act like a simple, meek prairie woman and pray to God I'd get out of here alive. "Beg your pardon for my lack of manners, sir. I've been riding for days, and I'm quite famished."

"I can see," said Garrett with the same expression on his face.

I ignored him and bustled about the store, gathering food and supplies in my arms. Garrett followed me.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked.

"Albuquerque," I replied. "I'm headed out to Oregon to teach school there."

"This is hardly the time for a woman to be traveling alone. There are lawless men in these parts, just waiting for easy prey," said Garrett.

I laid my purchases on the counter and pulled my roll of bills from my pocket. Garrett shook his head at the clerk. "I'll be paying for this lady's purchases," he said.

"Why, that's very generous of you, Mr. Garrett," I said.

Something moved in Garrett's face. "Have you ever heard of the outlaw Rampaging Riddle?" he asked lightly.

Scur

"No," I said.

"Oh, I'm sure you have, ma'am. In fact, I'd say you're her spitting image."

I said nothing; Garrett was trying to provoke me into saying something stupid. He could try, but I would make sure he didn't succeed. I gathered up my supplies and left the store. Garrett called after me, "Good afternoon, ma'am. Have a safe trip."

I was halfway across the street when I remembered about the cake. Billy would be beyond pissed I hadn't bought it, but I couldn't risk going back to the store. Not so long as Garrett was around. Next, I took Storm Cloud to the blacksmith. He had a loose shoe that needed repairs. Chores done, I walked back to Jane's. Surely the boys would be done by now...

The minute I entered Jane's, the sound of laughter and squeaking beds reached my ears. I knew Chavez would never sleep with a whore, so I figured it would be safe to go check on him. The problem was, I had no idea which room he was in. When I emerged on the landing, I opened the first door I noticed. Upon opening it, I was treated to the sight of two whores "entertaining" a naked (and very drunk) Arkansas Dave.

"Oh God!" I groaned in disgust, closing my violated eyes.

Dave hastily yanked a sheet over himself and hollered, "Close the damn door!"

I gladly did. I moved down the hallway to test another door. This time, I had the good sense to press my ear to it before opening it. No sound was coming from within. I hesitantly pushed the door open. Chavez lay fully clothed on the bed, sleeping peacefully. The door squeaked; he opened one eye.

"Querida," he said, smiling.

I smiled too; he'd never react so calmly to anyone else that interrupted his sleep. He winced as he tried to push himself up with his injured arm. I sat next to him on the bed and spread out one of the handkerchiefs. I emptied the pockets of my coat, which contained a fair amount of food from the general store. Chavez didn't seem to notice and started to close his eyes again.

"I think you better eat something," I said, pushing an apple into his hand. "You're starting to look pale."

Chavez skinned the apple with his knife, then hungrily chomped into it. He made short work of the apple and moved on to the rest of our small picnic. We cuddled together, ready for a nap, but our quiet moment was cut short by the sound of approaching horses and a man's voice bellowing, "William H. Bonney! Alias Billy the Kid! Alias William Antrim! Josiah Scurlock, alias Doc! Serena Riddle, alias Rampaging Riddle!"

The door banged open and Billy stuck his head, hastily buttoning his shirt. "A posse found us," he said tensely. "I bet that son of a bitch Pat Garrett's behind this. You two get rolling downstairs."

We crashed down the steps while the head of the posse continued to shout, "And Dave Rudabaugh of Las Vegas, alias Arkansas Dave!"

"He said Dave Rudabaugh of Las Vegas!" Dave yipped happily.

"Yeah, I'm real happy for ya, Dave," Doc said sarcastically.

"Any other black knights on the premises shall turn their bodies over to the law, or perish in flame!"