Doli capax
"Capable of Crime"
Well, here's Chapter 2! But first; I wanted to send some well needed shout-outs!
Official Rambler: Thanks! I hope this time my chapter is correct. Sorry if it's not, I don't want to offend :)
RamblerGaelige: I really appreciate your helpful tips and kind words! Hope I don't dissapoint!
EmiliosLoofah: Betherz! Lots of thanks for checking this. I owe ya big-time. The Regulator's send hugs and the guys send requests for...yeah, I think you know what they want! LoL! Pantz
Cena4eva: I'm glad you like it. Sorry I'm such a slow updater (not sure if that's a word but you get the picture:))
AJeff: Man, I wish I could update as fast as you do :) Teehee, you made me feel special.
Johnny Ringo was more than confused at this point. Curly Bill, after Nola's impressing performance, announced that to become a Cowboy, she had to first complete a "test" for him.
Ringo knew that he, nor none of the other current Cowboys, had ever had to undergo any kind of challenge to be accepted. Brocious had insisted that they leave Safford and head north a short distance to see if "the girl really had the guts".
The large mass of horses and riders plowed through the desolate landscape, kicking up a large cloud of dust in their wake. Johnny, riding his paint in front as he was accustomed to, caught himself repeatedly sneaking a sideways glance at the girl riding behind Rayls, who had positioned himself on the left wing of the charge. Her riding style was different, he noted. He adjusted the black handkerchief around his neck briefly before noticing the small Mexican village ahead of them. It was minute, probably with a population of less than one hundred. What was Curly Bill doing?
As they approached, Ringo watched as the townspeople's' eyes became filled with an overpowering fear. They all began to step backwards into the shadows, horror etched plainly into their dark features. But it wasn't the people who caught his eye the most it was the decorations. A banquet table was prepared across from what Ringo recognized as a chapel. A small band was playing softly, the singer's voice flowing as clearly as the fountain in the center. Small children, along with two or three couples, stood around with what appeared to be baskets of pedals slung on their arms.
Before he could question the obvious excitement of the area, Curly Bill motioned for them to dismount and follow his lead. Ringo complied; curious to see what his plan was, and what the girl, standing a ways behind him, had to do with it all.
The Cowboys circled behind Brocious, rifles in hand. Ringo stepped back from the group, separating himself from them. He noticed out of the corner of his eye Rayls positioning Nola to a vacant spot across from him.
While the group continued to move about, the double doors of the chapel swung open, revealing a Mexican man, possibly in his late 20s, and a girl, obviously younger than him, dressed in a white gown. Behind them followed about six men, whom Ringo recognized to be the Mexican Police. The people awaiting their arrival tossed the pedals in the smiling couple's direction, laughing happily. The groom grinned widely, and then looked forward towards the crowd of men. His smile disappeared instantly.
His wife noticed the change in expression and followed his gaze, only to gasp sharply and pull herself closer to him. The police looked stunned, aware suddenly at the difference in numbers. The priest looked simply appalled.
Out of nowhere, Curly Bill removed two neatly folded sashes, held them up for the bewildered procession to see, then threw them heavenward, and watched as the streamed back down into the dust. "Ya'll killed two Cowboys." he stated simply, before removing his pistols and beginning the massacre.
Ringo, backing up Brocious, whipped out his pistol and began firing in the direction of the chapel. Within seconds a haze of gun smoke and dust from panicking horses polluted the air.
Finally, Brocious lowered his pistols, staring numbly at the police lying on the ground. The newly weds still stood, horrified, surrounded by their dead and dying friends. "I guess we win." one of the men announced. Ringo couldn't even tell who it was.
Slowly, the Cowboys began to close the distance between themselves and the petrified couple. The woman, whose face was now almost as white as her wedding dress, slid closer to her husband the closer they approached. Curly Bill smiled at this.
Brocious turned to the Mexican man on his right. "Tell him to get on his knees."
The man loudly proclaimed the command in Spanish, watching as the groom only stared at him. He repeated it louder, adding what seemed to Brocious as a threat at the end. The man continued to stand his ground. "Will someone get this dick on his knees?" Curly Bill asked with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. From out of the left corner of the circle, a bullet sped into the man's knee, causing him to fall to the ground in pain. His wife clutched onto his neck and shoulders, whispering what Ringo supposed were comforting words to him.
"Gracias." Brocious rasped, getting a few snickers out of his comrades. He smiled grimly, and then turned towards the girl.
"Come here Miss Nola, your test has arrived."
Ringo, along with the other cowboys, all turned to stare at her. Her face was unusually pale, her right hand still gripping onto her pistol. She didn't move.
"I said come here." he tried again, his patience wearing thin. He didn't have time for her or her emotions.
Slowly, she complied, walking until she was at Brocious side, then she met her eyes with his.
"What is my test?" She asked, obviously trying to mask the shock on her face.
"Kill him."
Ringo watched as her face went blank, all while keeping her eyes locked on Curly Bill's.
"What's wrong girl? Never killed before?" he taunted, finding the look on her face humorous. "By the way you talked I thought you had?"
She looked to the ground. "I have, but not like this." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Curly Bill laughed loudly. "Well then, how the hell did you? Beat them to death maybe?"
She raised her head sharply, letting her eyes pierce into his. "I always had a reason."
Without warning Brocious broke into a fit of laughter, doubling over and staggering a few feet away from her. A few of the other cowboys joined in.
Her gaze never once left him.
Finally, Brocious regained his composure, and after rubbing the moisture from his eyes, smirked with an all-knowing look.
"You know, I just knew you didn't have it in you," he began, turning his back from her and walking towards the banquet table, "I tell ya, girls just aren't cowboy material! I just knew..."
Before Brocious could continue, a single shot rang through the village, and Curly Bill turned just in time to see the groom fall backwards, blood already seeping from his forehead.
The Cowboys just stood there, staring opened mouth at the scene. Even Ringo himself was slightly awed.
But Nola was by far the most stunned.
She didn't move a single muscle, her gun still pointed in the direction of the groom, who was now covered completely by a wailing woman.
Nola was brought out of her trance by the feeling of a slight tug on her waist. Upon inspection, she saw a red sash was being wound around her, and she turned to see Curly Bill tying it on the side and letting the ends hang down along her leg. He stepped back to admire his work, and he shook his head slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.
"I'll be damned."
A pause fell over the entire group. Not a word was uttered. Not a word was thought. Nothing, but complete and strained silence.
"Well, looks like they knew we were coming!" Brocious finally said, turning from the stunned girl to the table once again. The Cowboys nodded, suddenly glad for the distraction, and headed towards the welcoming food.
Before any of them could react, the priest's anguish stricken voice bellowed out as he began yelling something in Spanish. Nola watched him, for he was staring directly at her.
Another lone shot cut through the air, and the newest cowboy watched as the priest stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, a puff of smoke following from the impact. She darted her eyes over to where the shot had came from and saw Ringo, holstering his pistol as if nothing had happened. He walked casually towards the table. Her eyes followed him, but he didn't even seem to realize she was there, watching his every move.
Ringo stayed as far away from the Cowboys as possible. Simply nursing a cup full of sweet wine, he looked towards the horses. After he'd strolled past her, Nola had slowly walked over to her horse, gripping the foreign red sash that was now a permanent part of her apparel. His curiosity grew.
Leaning against the side of the adobe structure, Nola rubbed the red fabric between her fingers.
Gently she let her head rest against the wall, staring up into the cloudless blue sky. What have I done?
She shook her head, throwing the fabric down, only to find that it stayed on her waist. Damn It.
It was like a curse, she realized. Every time she looked at it, she'd remember how she first received it. And then remember the promise she had broken, yet again.
"Catch me if you can!" the young child cried happily as he held the white cloth proudly for the small band of children to see. They screamed their protest and took after him, laughing loudly and tripping over each other.
Two young women sat at a round table underneath an old oak, weathered by years of existence. They watched, with content smiles, as the children zigzagged through the tables.
"To be young again..." the one said wistfully, while the other chuckled jovially.
"Ah yes, Virginia, you are such the senior..."
"Well, I am older than them. By the looks of it, fifteen years possibly."
The other woman shook her head and took another sip of her lemonade.
"Don't you just love picnics?"
It was the old Lutheran church's annual spring picnic. Everyone in the congregation (and some who just loved the fun) gathered, bringing every kind of dessert imaginable. The day was nothing but fun, games, food, and some pleasant walks down memory lane. For the two women, it was a day they counted down for yearly.
Suddenly, a lone gun shot rang through the happy celebration, causing everyone to silence immediately, and turn towards the noise. The two women jumped up rapidly, staring wide-eyed at the source of the disruption.
Standing in the middle of the field behind the church stood a group of men, varying in ages from teens to mid sixties, staring innocently at the shocked congregation glaring at them. The one towards the front slowly dropped his hand, which clutched onto a shiny, brand new pistol. He smiled sheepishly and waved at them. "Hello there?"
The older women shook their heads disapprovingly and sat back down, whispering curses towards the weapon. The men, after a few more moments of embarrassing silence, turned towards the man holding the pistol and bombarded him with questions.
The two women remained standing, still shocked by the commotion.
"What on earth?" Virginia asked, her voice shaking slightly.
"Oh, don't worry dear, Mr. Williams there just purchased one of those Colt pistols sent up to Johnson's, and he brought it here to test it out, you see?" an older woman sitting close to them answered her question smiling.
"Oh."
The girls took their seats, flustered slightly. Virginia stirred her iced tea absentmindedly, while her companion stared wistfully at the group of men.
"I'm going to be able to shoot one of those someday."
Virginia stopped stirring and stared at the other girl.
"Nola, that's simply crazy! Women don't shoot those, those machines! Why, that's simply disgraceful!"
Nola glared at Virginia.
"Women can do anything men can. And it's not disgraceful. It's an art!"
Virginia laughed. "And you think mother would allow it?"
Nola put her head down. "I imagine not."
"Exactly! Remember, mother wants us to be sophisticated! Ladies don't do such things."
"I suppose."
Virginia gave her sister a small smile. "Mother's afraid you'll be like daddy."
"What?" Nola shot back, giving her sister a shocked look.
"Yes, she says your to adventurous to stay put. Yes sir, she's worried 'bout you."
"She never said anything..."Nola whispered, suddenly ashamed at her mother's accusations.
Virginia reached across the table and grabbed her sister's hand. "Well then, prove her wrong!"
The two continued their chatting for awhile, finding comfort in each other. They always claimed to people they were not sisters, they were best friends.
Suddenly, a young man came rushing through the picnic, throwing tables, chairs, and people out of his way as he ran. He scanned the visitors, suddenly spotting the two young girls in the back. He sprinted to them. "Virginia! Nola! Come quickly! Your mother's hurt! You must hurry!" Without questioning, the two jumped up, ran as fast as their skirts would permit to the back of the church, retrieved their horses, and galloped away, not even waiting for the poor messenger's panted cries.
They raced down the road, holding themselves in the side-saddled position while dodging passing horses. They paid no heed to the few men shouting for them to slow down. All they could think about was their mother.
Once the farmhouse came into sight, they spurred their horses for a last burst of energy. Not receiving it, they reined them in, not even bothering to tether them, and fell to the ground, jumping back up to race into the house.
Inside, their strides turned into a sudden halt. Standing over their pale mother was the doctor and his young assistant, shaking their heads grimly.
"Dr. Matthews, what's wrong with mother?" Virginia cried through tears as she knelt down beside her. Nola followed slowly, tears streaming out of her eyes as well.
At the sound of her daughter's voice, the woman's eyelids fluttered open, and she stared into Virginia's tear filled orbs. "Ginny, what's wrong?" she whispered, taking her hand from her waste to touch her daughter's face. Nola and Virginia both gasped. Her hand was soaked in red, thick, blood.
As her ailing mother removed her hand, Virginia felt the liquid slid down her face as the tears mixed with it.
"Nollie? You two?" she questioned, smiling a sad smile at her daughter. Nola just shook her head.
"What happened? What's going on?" Virginia cried, staring at the doctor. He opened his mouth to reply, but her mother's voice cut through.
"It was some old pals of your father's. He never repaid them." she chuckled darkly. "So they made me pay em'".
"Mrs. Shiring, please, save your energy." the doctor hushed.
Mrs. Shiring snorted, coughing slightly. "Hell, you and I both know that won't help me now."
Virginia cried at her mother's words. "No Mama, you're goin' to be alright!"
Nola leaned forward, grabbing her mother's clammy hand, "Yes mama, we're here, and we'll take care of ya!"
Mrs. Shiring shook her head slowly, making her gray hair fall into her eyes.
"Now Virginia, you find yourself a good man, you here? Make me proud."
She turned towards Nola.
"And Nola, don't you be like your father. I'll have none of that business, of robbin' and killin'. And don't you ever touch a rifle or pistol or any other kind of them fire spittin' demons, you hear me?"
Nola shook her head. The sound of her mother's fading voice chilled her down to her bones.
"I promise." she whispered.
Virginia nodded through her tears.
"Me too, mama."
"Good girls. My good, little, girls..."
Slowly, her eyelids shut, a content smile on her lips.
The two girls, sat back on their heels, tears running down their cheeks.
"I promise." Nola whispered into the void.
The girl leaned heavily on the wall. She had done the one thing she wasn't supposed to do. The one thing she knew was wrong. But…why?
Did she really need to have that feeling of acceptance back that badly?
"Nola?"
The simple use of her name startled her, and in reaction she pushed herself off the adobe with her shoulders.
The man standing before her was new.
Unlike the others, his smile was real. Thick curly hair poked out from underneath a black hat, while calm blue eyes met hers. His clothes, she noticed, seemed almost perfectly clean. She wished she could say the same for her now dust-covered garments.
"You okay there?" he laughed.
She nodded slowly.
"I don't think we've officially met." He smiled again. "I'm Sherman McMasters."
"The pleasure is all mine."
"Well, Curly Bill's ready to head into town to celebrate."
"Where and why?" She questioned casually, meeting his gaze for possibly the first time.
"Tombstone…for your acceptance."
She snorted. How could she forget?
"Figured I'd warn ya, Brocious ain't whatcha call a patient man."
"I've noticed."
With a great deal of effort, McMasters turned to his horse and began tightening his cinch. Nola remained in her position, her eyes wandering to random objects while her mind mulled over all the new information.
"I don't think they like me."
McMasters poked his head from over his horse's withers. "Now what do ya mean by that?"
"The other Cowboys, they look at me like I'm nothing."
He shook his head. "They still think women are insignificant." Was that anger he picked up on those placid features of hers?
"And Ike Clanton defiantly thinks you're a whore."
"A whore!" she practically screamed, her hands balling into fists.
"Thinks you're here to get your money and then ride off into the sunset."
"Oh no! I most certainly am not a whore!"
McMasters chuckled.
"And what's so funny?"
"You."
"What?" she spat, turning her back to him and quickly untying her mount.
"You remind me of my sister."
"Why, is she a whore too?" she growled, turning her head over her shoulder.
Suddenly his kind face clouded over in anger, and Nola immediately knew she had said the wrong thing.
"McMasters, I didn't..."
"My sister was no whore. She was an upright, smart, respectful woman."
"I'm sorry." she whispered, fearing that the one person who was nice to her would suddenly become her worst enemy. He shook his head slowly.
"You didn't mean nothin' by it."
"I'm sure she was a lady."
The two ended their conversation abruptly. The tension in the air was thick as Nola mounted and followed McMasters back out to the town square where the rest of the Cowboys were gathered. She could feel their disapproving and hateful looks boring into the back of her head. How opinions could change so quickly...
"Congratulations Miss Nola!"
The girl turned her head to face the voice, almost glad to hear that someone didn't loath her, and saw a fairly young man, with a blue button-down shirt and dark blonde hair that fell into his hazel eyes. "Names Billy, Billy Clanton. I didn't get to introduce myself to ya yet." She couldn't help but smile. His deep voice sounded so odd coming from him.
"Nice to meet you." she replied cautiously. Billy only smiled and withdrew knife. Nola began backing her horse up, quickly.
"Wait, I ain't gonna hurt ya!" he laughed, showing her plainly as he cut on of the ends of his sash off and held it up to show her. She nodded as he brought his horse up next to hers and leaned over. "Now hold still."
She complied with his request and felt as he tied the fabric around her pony tail and gently smoothed it so the sash lied gently on her hair.
"There, now it's official!" he laughed, watching as she let her hand go up to inspect the new hairpiece.
She smiled grimly.
"So it is."