A verbis ad verbera

"From Words To Blows"

Tombstone was different than what Nola had first expected. In her mind, on the charge into town, she'd pictured a small mining camp, with a saloon and a hotel or two. But this place was huge! As they paraded down Allen Street, she couldn't believe how many saloons could be on one stretch of land. The town was bustling with activity. Everywhere, someone was walking, talking, selling, or drinking. She found herself with her mouth hanging open and her eyes scanning the town from head to toe.

Brocious found amusement in her stunned actions. He himself had visited Tombstone more than once, so the overall grandeur of it had worn off. Slowly, he reined in his horse so he could be along side of her.

"Big ain't it?"

She shot her head his way, unaware of his presence. Nodding numbly, she continued her gawking. He smiled, and finding her worthless for conversation, sped back up front with Ringo.

The man at the stable looked as though he was looking into the face of a tsunami when he began counting the number of horses in the Cowboy's procession. Brocious jumped from his horse and strolled to up to the owner, looking down on him.

"I want all these horses fed and watered, you understand?"

The man nodded nervously, and motioned for the rest of the Cowboys to tie their horses on a post outside the livery. Nola followed their actions, making sure to remove her saddlebags before leaving her mount. She gave him a gentle pat and walked out into the open.

"So whatcha think?"

Nola felt relieved when Sherman walked up to her, a big grin on his face.

"All I can say is…wow!" she laughed, and began following him down the dusty streets.

"They say it'll be as big as San Fran in a few years." he continued, slowing down slightly to let her catch up.

"Never been there." she replied, her head still swiveling from side to side, trying to catch the name of every shop.

"There's a nice hotel up here, I'm bedding down there."

She mulled the thought over in her mind before asking. "How nice is it?"

"Well, if you show them the sash they give you a room for free."

"That nice?"

The two smiled widely as he showed her into the hotel. It was a fairly grand establishment, with a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The front desk was located between two sets of stairs, each leading to the floor above.

McMaster's walked up to the desk and tapped the table bell. Immediately, a head popped over the counter.

"What can e do ye' fer?" he asked, his Irish accent so heavy Nola had a hard time understanding it.

"Two rooms." At this time, he brought the sash into his hand. Nola shook her head and lifted hers too.

"Two?" he questioned. Sherman nodded, sending the man an odd look. Not wanting to make one of such power angry, he quickly disappeared under the desk again, emerging with two keys.

"Rooms 5 an' 6."

"Why thank you."

The man gave Nola a hearty smile as she followed McMaster's up the stairs. She nodded in his direction, still slightly offended by the two-room comment.

Sherman gently tossed her the key to room 5 as he began fiddling with the lock on 6.

The room was fairly decent, with a bed, dresser, wash bin, bathing tub, and a beautiful view of the mountains bordering Tombstone. Nola sat heavily on the bed, sighing gratefully at the feeling of the soft down on her aching muscles. This, she thought to herself, could work. She tossed her saddlebags onto the floor, kicked off her dusty boots, and curled up against the pillow for a nice nap.

"Please, don't kill me! I swear I didn't do it!" the man screamed, pulling his hands over his head.

Nola stood over him, pistol gleaming in the hot midday sun.

"Really now? Then why did I see you there?" she hissed, kicking him hard in the side with the tip of her boot. The man rolled over onto his side, clutching his ribs in agony.

"I swear to God! I didn't." Immediately she knelt down and pressed the barrel to his temple.

"I really hate liars."

He shakily lifted his head to meet hers, his blue eyes swimming in tears. "Look, I got a family. I got two little... "

"I had a family at one time too." she growled, pushing the barrel in a little harder. "But men like you killed them."

"It wasn't me!"

Her anger boiled over. Before she could stop herself, her finger latched around the trigger and she felt herself pull it back...

Nola woke with a start. She could feel herself shaking; feel the sweat on her brow.

Knock Knock

She put her hand to her head, trying to rub off the moisture while getting up to answer her door. She stopped midway though, and carefully pulled her pistol from its holster on the floor.

With caution, she pulled open the door, the pistol at her side. But when she saw the man that greeted her, she instantly felt a wave of relief.

Billy Clanton stood outside, his shirt now a lighter shade, and his pants not as dusty. That's when she realized she still had her old clothes on.

He smiled brilliantly before speaking.

"Looks like you had a nice nap?"

She couldn't help but chuckle. She probably looked liked a banshee.

"You could say that."

"Hey, there's a show going on tonight at the Bird Cage, would you..."

"Bird Cage?" she interrupted him, her look skeptical.

"Oh, well, it's a whore house and a theater all in one, but would you like..."

"A whore house?" her voice sounded suspicious.

"Uh-huh. There are these little rooms on the second floor, but it's mostly a theater now,"

"Oh, so it's not really a whore house?"

"Well, uh, hell, I don't know! But would you..."

"Cause I will not step foot in a bordello."

"Ahh!" he growled, shaking his head and putting his hand on it.

She stared at him quizzically.

"Look." he began straightening himself up. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the show with me. The acts are supposed to be good."

She felt herself blush. God, all he'd wanted to do was ask her to go to a play, not a whorehouse. Maybe what Sherman had said was sinking a little too deep...

"Of course! It sounds like fun! What time?"

"I'll come get you 'round nine?"

"Nine it is."

For the remainder of the time, Nola tried as best as she could to clean herself up. She wished that she could have a nice dress to wear, but unfortunately, all she had were trousers and shirts.

By the time she was done with her hair she decided she looked half decent. At least she wasn't as crusty as before.

At nine sharp Billy stood outside of her door. He smiled when he saw her, and the two of them went to the Bird Cage.

Inside, it was so loud Nola could barely hear herself think. The bottom half of the theater was cluttered with chairs and benches, most of them full with drunk and rowdy Cowboys. Billy led her to a full bench. Her questions were answered when he picked two men up by their shirt collars and threw them roughly to the ground.

"Here you are." he said, motioning to the empty spot. She sat down, smiling warily at him. How gentleman like?

"Hey Billy! I ain't sittin' by your whore!"

The voice brought rage into her. She turned to her right and saw the man.

"Ike! This is Nola, you know, she's the newest..."

"Yeah I know…newest form of entertainment!"

At that a whole group of the Cowboys sitting around him burst into laughter, some even going as far as to pat him on the back.

Instantaneously she rose from the bench, her anger welling up so horribly that she could feel her cheeks burn. Well, she decided in her mind it was because of temper that they heated up.

"I'll have you know that I am no whore! I was invited to attend this by Billy, and if you look," she picked up the red sash she had on, "I'm one of you. So, we're technically equals."

Slap!

The impact of his hand on her face was so hard she found herself being held up by Billy, who was standing behind her, shocked.

She breathed out quickly, and at that point noticed the whole establishment had silenced considerably.

"Now you get it straight, you little whore, you ain't my equal. Women ain't equal to men. So you just go sit somewhere else..."

Slap!

This time, her hand came in contact with his face. Unluckily, all she did was turn his head slightly to the right...

Without warning, he pulled his arm back and threw a punch at her face. Luckily, Billy, who now pushed Nola behind him, blocked it.

"Ike! Just leave her alone!"

"That little bitch hit me Billy, hit me, and you're going to take her side?"

"That's enough!" Brocious' voice bellowed over Ike's. Like a dog with a tail between its legs, Ike backed down.

"Nola, why don't you come sit with me?" Curly Bill said, pushing Ike out of his way and grabbing Nola's arm. Billy unwillingly let her slip past him, all the while sending Ike the death glare.

Nola had never felt more humiliated in her life. Not only did her cheek now burn with an intensity of a thousand needles in a pincushion, she had just been rescued.

And that was something she wasn't going to stand for.

"Thank you Mr. Brocious but I believe I will retire for the night. Billy, thank you for the kind offer." she said, backing away from him and with that she strode out of the building with her head held high.

But, as soon as she reached the now deserted street, she cautiously let a tear slip down her reddened cheek.

That night she lied on her bed and stared at the ceiling. What is really worth it? How she wanted to cry, but she kept her emotions at bay for the time being. She felt like if she cried, they would know. And if they knew she'd cried, then that would burn what remaining respect they had for her.

She knew she'd have to face him again at one time or another. That loud mouthed, dirty, ignoramus. Even when the mere thought of him crossed her mind she wanted to hit something.

And hard.

Nothing seemed to be working out. Out of about sixty, only two, possibly three of the Cowboys seemed to actually not mind her. The others, well, they were a different story...

Either they thought she was a whore, or a disgrace.

She wasn't sure which she'd rather be labeled as.

Probably the latter...

The night wore on. She had considered going to the saloon, but she just didn't feel like using the energy to pull herself off of the bed. She thought about going to find Billy, but that thought only lasted a few minutes.

In the end, though, she found herself rolled on her stomach, fast asleep.

"Wake up sleepy head!"

Nola jolted out of bed, slipped on the comforter strewn about on the floor, and landed flat on her back. Above her stood McMasters, a broad smile covering his whole face.

"How, but wait, you..." she began, taking the hand he offered and rising.

"Picking locks is my specialty, and you just happen to be a deep sleeper."

She growled at him and turned to the window, hands on her hips disapprovingly.

"Actually," he said, walking up to stand beside her, "I wanted to say that was hilarious last night. God, the look on Ike's face was priceless!"

"Wait," she cried, spinning around to stare him directly in the eye, "you were there!"

He nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips. "I met this really nice girl, and she wanted to go, so I took her, and I made it just in time to see 'the show'."

She shook her head, rubbing her temples with her hands.

"I cannot believe that happened."

"I thought it was funny."

"Funny! He called me a whore!"

"And you hit him." he countered, walking towards the door." That was the funny part."

"Hey, Sherman!"

McMasters was surprised to see Nola running after him on the dusty street. He'd figured she would hide out at least one more day before reappearing to face Ike.

"Yeah?"

"I've finally decided what I want to do!"

"And what would that be?" he almost didn't want to know, especially if it involved him being the ref for her fistfight with Clanton.

"I'm gonna go down to the saloon and have me a good time."

"And what made you come to this conclusion?"

"Don't know..." she replied, suddenly finding the night sky to be particularly interesting.

He shook his head and sighed, a smile following it. By the looks of it, she already had a good start on her "goal".

"Well, you go have fun; I have to go find my lady."

"Same to you!"

He watched amused as she walked away, heading straight for the Crystal Palace. This, he knew, was going to be one hell of a show. Possibly, he could talk his lady into going to the Palace for a round of drinks...

The Palace was packed. It appeared to Nola that every single one of the Cowboys was in it. Everywhere she turned a red sash seemed to mock her.

She had had a few shots of the hotel owner's whiskey before, and the thought had struck her that if she wanted liquor, why not go to a saloon? So there she was, standing in the middle of the Crystal Palace, her head feeling slightly numb and her common sense out the window.

She walked straight to the bar to fulfill her original intentions before scouting the area for some form of entertainment.

"Shot of your best!" she called to the barkeep, which was cleaning out a particular dirty shot glass. He eyed her suspiciously, his eyebrow doing a push up. "Ain't you a bit young, miss?"

She sneered at him. "How old I am is none of your business."

He shook his head, "My mistake."

The whiskey tasted so good, the burning in her stomach soothing her soul. It had been a long time since she'd had a drink that good...

The whirring of a roulette ball pulled her out of her revere, and she looked across the room to see a crowd of men gathered in a circular position, their voices cheering loudly. Being that roulette had always been her favorite form of gambling, she wandered over.

"Hello my dear! Care to take a chance on your lucky numbers?" the one man said, waving his hand gracefully over the board. "I don't have any money left." she replied, suddenly wishing she hadn't got that whiskey.

"Well here, this ones on the house." he handed her a single chip, a smile beaming on his face.

Without thought she placed it on the black 13, her attitude extremely confident. "You wanna bet on just one number?" she nodded drunkenly, a smile creeping on her face.

The ball spun, round and around, while a dozen of anxious men and one woman watched in anticipation.

"Red 12!"

Nola swore loudly, turning abruptly from the table to wander around once more. Having no money, it seemed like a dumb thing to do, but hey, she had nothing better to occupy her time with.

"Hey gorgeous."

The address caused her to turn quickly towards the voice, only to find her self face-to-face with a man as big as a horse.

"Hi!" she slurred, placing a hand on his shoulder, her smile broadening.

"You're a pretty whore." He stated, letting his eyes rake over her, coming down to the sash where they stopped. "You reserved?"

"What?" she asked, totally oblivious?

"The sash, that some one else's?" she shook her so hard that she nearly fell into the table, only his giant hand stopped her.

"No! It'zzz mine!" she cried, saying the last word awfully loud.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"So then, you don't have anyone with you?"

She shook her head again. "Nope!"

"Well then..." slowly the man snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. Normally, she would have stabbed him, but now, all she did was laugh.

"Let her go."

The voice caused the man to whip his head angrily away from the woman in his arms. To his horror, his nose whacked into the barrel of a pistol.

"R-r-ringo?" he stuttered, taking a shaky step back.

"She's with me. Let her go." Without hesitation the man pulled himself away from the woman, who now was staring at Ringo in shock.

"Leave."

The man practically ran from the Palace. Ringo in turn turned to a very confused Nola who was using the bar table as a crutch.

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled, slipping his pistol back into the holster.

She laughed, sliding a bit farther down the table. "Having fun!"

He sighed before lifting her up and placing her on a nearby chair. "I'm not your babysitter, so get back to your hotel room, now."

She laughed again at him while turning towards the bar and waving the barkeep over.

"Get us two pleaasssee!"

"No." Ringo interrupted, grabbing her hand. "You're going back to your room."

"Oh c'mon, Ringo! Lil' drink never hurt nobody!"

He shook his head, exasperated. "If I have one, will you go?"

She nodded vigorously, sliding one of the two shot glasses towards him.

"Oh give me a HOME! Where the buffalo ROAM! And the DEER and the antelope PLAY!"

The sight parading down the street put most people into fits.

Nola, who was completely drunk as of the moment, clung onto an equally intoxicated Ringo. The two had recently decided that the Palace was getting to quiet, so they had walked out, only to burst into a song they both knew.

The people walking along couldn't help but laugh, as the two stumbled along, off pitch voices fading into the night.

"Where…where you wanna go?" Nola asked, pulling Ringo to a stop. He smiled.

"Wherever you're goin' darlin'!" he replied, making the last word rasp.

This brought on another fit of laughs before Nola began pulling him along. "Let's go to my place!"

He nodded while letting himself be pulled along the streets. He honestly didn't mind her, after a few drinks he'd found out that she was indeed likeable…and funny.

"Here it is!" she proclaimed proudly, motioning to the darkened hotel. It was roughly around three o'clock in the morning. She figured Newt, the owner, was already in bed.

The two tripped and staggered into the hotel, then preceded up the stairs with just as much difficulty, laughing every single time they went down. "My room is ov-ver here!"

It took her a few minutes to locate her key, and a few more to even get it in the lock. Ringo had to help steady her hand and together the two pushed it open.

As soon as they were in, the door was slammed shut with an amazing force.

Newt, who had been standing at the end of the hallway, watching with humor at the drunken pair, shook his head and left.

He'd have to remember to make a rule about guests paying extra...

Thanks to all my reviewers! You guys rock my socks! Hope you like it, and please, read and review!

-Redneck-Cowgirl