I'd like to dedicate this story to my wonderful friend, Christina, who has helped me so much in the progression of this story. I wouldn't have been able to see this project come to fruition without her assistance. Thank you so much!! I have never written a western story before so if there are things which seem off, I do apologise in advance. I have tried my hardest though by checking websites which talk about old Midwest towns.
Chapter One
A lone figure stood at the side of the crossroads relieving himself whilst whistling some old fancy tune his Ma used to sing to him as a child. A few feet behind him his horse neighed, feeling the intense heat and shifting from hoof to hoof. The bright mid day sun was high in the sky over the Arizona wastelands, hot and fierce. The man, known as Charlie Prince, stepped side, buckled up his belt and sighed. He removed his hat for a minute, brushing his leather-gloved hands loosely through his knotted blonde locks of hair. Sweat was slowly beginning to drip down his face, coming to rest in his golden beard.
It was far too hot to do much more, so he peeled off his leather jacket, tossing it into one of his saddle bags and gracefully lifted himself up onto his horse. Cooing softly, Charlie pressed the horse on.
xxx
The last raid Charlie had taken part in with Ben Wade and his gang had now made him a thousand dollars richer. Grinning from ear to ear, Charlie pressed on, listening to a murder of crows squawk overhead, calling to each other in union. It was just too damned hot out here now and there was nowhere in sight where Charlie could reside for a while to lay low. The small town of Two Guns was still a fair few miles away, making it at least a two hour ride. It was here that he'd planned to meet up with the Boss, Ben Wade, and share all the information he had on the weekly crossings down to Millville. It was known in this town that there was a large, brand new post office and bank. This meant plenty of stagecoaches passed through to deliver mail, and more importantly, money.
He started up into tune once more, humming his old bedtime lullaby. His piercing gaze remained locked on the patchy grass roads which twisted and turned in front of his horse's hooves. A gentle heat haze lingered on the horizon.
Suddenly with no word of warning, a high pitched, distinctly female scream hit the air. Charlie pulled on the horse's reins sharply, pursing his lips and knotting his eyebrows in confusion. Instinctively, his hand reached down for his pistol which was safely tucked away in his elaborately decorated holster. His gloved hand picked out the gun, fingering the trigger. "Whoever ya are, come out!" he ordered, jumping down from his saddle gracefully.
From behind a half-dying bush, a woman who looked no older than around twenty years of age, scrambled out on her hands and knees. "Please, can you help me? I have no idea how I ended up here," she asked, gasping for breath in sheer terror. Instantly he noticed that her accent was not American, but English.
Charlie approached, knowing that she was no threat to him…not many people were in these parts, especially a woman, a woman alone and unattended. His lips curled up into a small mischievous smile as he approached, looking down as she remained on her knees. The woman's large, scared green eyes remained glued to him. "What do ya mean you don't know how you ended up here?" Charlie asked, his tone tinged with dominance. "There ain't many ways to travel round here, mainly horse or train…And seein' as there ain't many train tracks in this area, I doubt you came that way."
"I know it's hard to believe," she continued again, this time getting awkwardly to her feet.
Charlie glanced at her rather strange clothing. She wore a pair of slacks and accompanying tunic with what looked like drawn animals on them. "What the hell are you wearin'?" Charlie asked, raising his eyebrow.
"They're….my pyjamas. My friends….I don't know what they did," she continued, stuttering. "I was there in the living room and they….um, did some kind of spell…where am I?"
"This is Arizona," Charlie said quickly, holding his pistol at arm's length.
"Please don't….I just need to know what's going on," the girl half screeched. "I don't mean any harm."
"You probably do. You're English!" Charlie growled.
"What's that got to do with anything? I live in America now; I moved here to go to college. Please, listen to me." She found herself completely bewildered by everything: where she was, the man and how strangely he was dressed…everything made no sense whatsoever. "What year is this?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows tightly in confusion as she looked over the way the stranger was dressed. Another TIME and PLACE….If she'd been transported to another place, then what year was this?
With a wicked grin on his face, Charlie knew what he'd do. This girl wasn't exactly the most beautiful of women, but she was quite pretty. She'd certainly be of some amusement to the rest of the gang. If her story was true, he didn't really care. Quickly, he rushed at the girl and grabbed her tightly by the arm, dragging her two arms then behind her back. The girl screamed out, kicking outwards, aiming for his shins, and if possible, a little higher. "Shut up and come here," Charlie shouted, his voice echoing through the air. "I'm sure some of mah friends will like to meet you," he whispered to her ear, letting his breath brush across her sensitive ear. "And it's eighteen eighty seven."
"Eighteen eight seven?!" the girl exclaimed loudly.
A few minutes later and the girl found herself bound and sitting in the saddle of the stranger's horse. "What's ya name? I'm sure ya have one," Charlie grunted, keeping his arms securely around her, holding the reins. It'd been a desperate struggle as she was pushed onto the horse, but having a gun to her head didn't hold much persuasion. Either get on the horse or be killed.
"Rachel!" the girl hissed.
"Nice to meet ya, Rachel," Charlie chuckled. "I'm Charlie, Charlie Prince."
"I don't really care what your name is, you bastard," Rachel growled back, straightening her back considerably to move away from him.
"Don't be so hostile. Enjoy the ride," Charlie said again, quickly brushing his finger down her knuckle.
"Get off me!" she demanded, pulling her hands from him.
Rachel closed her eyes, tired, scared and hungry as she sat in front of this man, feeling his breath, which stunk of stale whiskey, brush across her cheeks. The slow trot of the horse was enough to let her drift away for a few moments. Having never been on a horse before, Rachel found that she had to cling to the edge of the saddle for support, but due to the tiredness over taking her, her fingers released their grip repetitively. The heat made her sweat and all saliva in her mouth dry up, leaving nothing but thirst.
"We'll be in town soon, so don't go fallin' asleep on me," Charlie hissed, nudging her awake with his elbow.
Thoughts swirled around her brain, but the fatigue made her whole head spin with dizziness. The heat dug into her skin, feeling as though it were on fire. She swallowed hard, unable to feel anything moving down her throat, and gave out a gentle moan. "How…do you survive out here?" she asked, closing her eyes again and letting her head bob along with the movement.
Across the horizon there was still very little in sight, only abandoned cattle sheds, dirt roads and dying plants, taken by the sheer heat of this hell on Earth. Charlie only chuckled. "You've bin here five minutes and you're already complainin'? Typical woman."
Rachel gritted her teeth and pulled against the tight rope around her wrists, knowing it was no use and hung her head. This man obviously knew how to take captives and effectively keep them as just that. "What are you going to do with me?" she asked. Her tone was full of anger.
"Oh, I wouldn't wanna spoil that for ya," Charlie said quietly, grinning to himself and silently becoming appreciative of the company, no matter how annoying. At least he didn't have to trot on for miles, alone and unable to share any kind of communication with another human being.
A lump rose in Rachel's throat as she felt completely hopeless, knowing she wouldn't get away now. There was no way to get back home, unless the powers above granted her some kind of miracle. Dreaded thoughts of what would happen to her raced through her mind; disgusting leering men touching her and taking advantage. It made her feel physically sick.
The heat was becoming unbearable now as it dug into Rachel's clothes, stinging her skin. She groaned loudly, feeling as if her skin were stretching and gradually tearing apart.
Charlie grinned again at the pleasurable sound of her groaning. That sound was like music to his ears, making him wish she was groaning for him. But he had to press on and pushed the disgusting thoughts from his mind.
In clear view, Charlie soon made out the unmistakable form of the small town of Two Guns. "Right, we're here now!" he snapped, nudging Rachel in the back with his elbow.
"Don't touch me!" Rachel retorted evilly, matching his tone of voice. They continued on, watching the wooden buildings become larger.
On horseback, the outlaw and his hostage trotted past a cattle market, blacksmiths, butchers and then the hotel, positioned on the left, set slightly back amongst the other buildings. The town was fairly quiet, with only one or two people passing across the dirt tracks leading down the centre of the main street. Through the air, they could make out the rhythmic sound of the blacksmith hammering horseshoes. Mixed with that was the occasional sounds from the bulls at the market.
"Gotta find somewhere to put the horse for a while," Charlie told Rachel, steering the horse towards the hotel which looked fairly comfortable, with well dressed gentlemen and their lady friends walking in and out the ornately decorated doors.
Curious stares soon burned into the side of Rachel's face as she looked around, noticing the street fill up with more and more onlookers. It seemed as if this particular town didn't take well to foreigners.
Charlie stopped the horse and tossed his leg over the saddle, dropping down onto the dusty ground, his spurs digging into the dirt, cracking it open. Rachel's heart sped up considerably as she'd never been on a horse before and grew scared at the prospect of jumping down from one. "Come here," Charlie said impatiently, dragging Rachel by the arm and pulling her down from the horse. Rachel yelped, almost getting her socked foot caught in the stirrup. He didn't seem an overly large man, but Charlie sure had some strength in his arms. "You even think about runnin' or callin' for help and you'll be starin' down the barrel of mah pistol, understand?" he whispered to her, still holding her arm, reassuring that he meant every word.
A young boy, no older than around eleven years of age suddenly came running across to the new visitors. "Do you want ya horse taken to the stables, Mister?" he asked, looking up at Charlie with large innocent blue eyes.
"How'd ya guess?" Charlie asked, rolling his eyes.
The boy never noticed the sarcasm in Charlie's tone and grinned, tugging the large horse along by the reins to a designated stable especially for visitors' horses.
Rachel winced as she was half dragged through the dirt, her white socks growing grey. "Ugh!" she called out, staring down at her feet.
"Oh shut up and come on," Charlie demanded, pulling her up the steps. Rachel grit her teeth in anger as a sharp pain shot down her man-handled arm. His fingers gripped especially tight.
In the hotel, Charlie walked across with Rachel to the main bar area where a pretty maid waited to assist guests. "Can ah help you, Mister?" she asked, pushing a blonde curl from her slim face.
Other guests, who remained at their tables, drinking, playing Poker and generally participating in mindless conversation, looked up in curiosity. It had been noted by most of Charlie's hostile grip on Rachel's arm and the way he was dressed. But they knew better than to provoke an outlaw.
Charlie grinned at the maid, quickly glancing at her plunging neckline. His green eyes sparkled with desire which he pushed away quickly whilst grabbing a small bag of coins from the pocket in his white leather jacket which he held over his arm. "A room for two," Charlie said mischievously, whipping his perverse grin to Rachel. He then shoved five dollars across the bar to the maid which was paired with the clanking of the old coins.
Rachel shot a look of daggers at Charlie, her hands still tied together with dirty rope. "Come on," Charlie hissed, pushing his hand into Rachel's back and then glaring evilly at the patrons dotted about the bar.
"Your key, Mister," the maid called out, holding a jingling key between her long fingers. Charlie turned on his heel quickly, grabbing the key and yanking it hard from her hand. "First room on yah left." Charlie kept on walking, seeming to ignore her words.
The trek up the stairs was quick, but Rachel could distinctly hear and feel her heart racing in her chest. She could sense Charlie's leer behind her and distinctly heard his loud breathing.
Charlie shoved in front once they'd made their way to the top of the steps, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet. He pushed the stained key into the door, turning it and opened the door. Rachel found herself glued to the spot for a moment, her eyes surveying to the double bed in the centre of the room. "Um, you don't expect me to get in that with you?" she asked nervously, pointing a shivering finger in the direction of the bed. "There's no way I'm sleeping with you."
"Just get in here!" Charlie snapped, pulling on her bindings and slamming the door behind her. He made sure he locked the door securely and held the key in his hand, as if teasing her. "If you don't wanna sleep next to me then sleep on the cold floor…I don't care," he sneered, removing his hat and resting it on the oil lamp on the bedside table.
The air was considerably cooler in here and more comfortable as Charlietossed his jacket over a wooden chair in the corner of the room underneath the window. Then he slid his feet out of his boots, kicking them away and half threw himself down on the bed.
Rachel stared at her bound hands and then at the man who lay on the bed. Breath caught in her throat painfully as she felt tears well in her eyes. Why? She couldn't understand why this was all happening to her. How did she deserve this? To be sent to another time and place, captured and…well, she couldn't bare imagining the rest. That would come later. For the time being, she walked slowly across the small room to the chair and slid into it, biting on her thumb nail. The course fabric of the rope brushed against her top lip, but biting her nails had always been the answer to feeling scared.
She stared angrily at the dozing man and rolled her eyes. Why were all men such animals? To make things ten times worse, this was in a time when women were treated as property to men. No matter how strong Rachel knew or thought she was, nothing could help her here. Her training in Martial Arts was certainly NO match for a gun.