"A Bullet for my Broken Heart" (closed)

[Alice2015]

"A Bullet for my Broken Heart"

CLOSED
for TiredFingers​

Alice Hooper heard the horses approaching from beyond a nearby hillock long before they came into her view. She slipped the Smith and Wesson Model 3 revolver from her holster and checked it for a full load. It wasn't really a necessary action on Alice's part; she always knew exactly how many rounds were in the Schofield, just as she always knew how many rounds were in her Henry Model 1860 rifle -- currently in the scabbard on her horse -- which used the same .44 caliber Henry cartridge as did the pistol.

As the riders cleared the nearby rise, Alice smiled at the realization that the posse's membership had once again risen. Since they'd set out after her three weeks earlier, the numbers had fallen, risen, and fallen again from a high of 14 to a low of 6; there were 8 of them now.

Oh, it wasn't a posse per se. There likely wasn't a legitimate Lawman amongst them. They were likely just hired guns -- bounty hunters and other such killers -- employed by a North Texas rancher to bring Alice back to El Paso to stand trial and hang for the killing of his son. They'd chased her across the Western Texas Panhandle and up into the Southeastern portion of the New Mexico Territory, only to have her head east into Northern Texas before once again backtracking here to the banks of the Pecos River.

The reasons for the membership's fluctuation had been many: some men hadn't wanted to chase about the arid South for days on end; others had begun to wonder whether or not they'd ever collect their share of the bounty; most, though, had seen how good Alice was with her pistol and rifle and decided that no amount of money was worth likely ending up dead, as had six of their comrades thus far.

And yet the posse kept coming. And Alice knew it would keep coming so long as just one of its members knew the direction in which their quarry had last headed. Her only chance was to end the chase … by killing every last man amongst them, all at one time.

That chance was now, despite the fact that not only did the eight man posse obviously outnumber Alice but it even outnumbered the rounds in the weapon on her hip with which she was so skilled.

The riders slowed as they realized that Alice was making no effort to escape. With their horses coming to a walk, they spread out left and right until they finally came to a stop in a slightly curved line, less than twenty feet before her.

Alice surveyed the posse members, one after another. She noted the weapons they carried, whether or not they had that weapon at the ready or still stuffed inside a holster, and -- possibly most important of all -- the expressions and body language of the men. The latter told Alice whether or not each of the men was ready to fire on her. She'd proven herself to be a killer over the past three weeks, and yet there were still some men out their in the world -- and in this posse -- who would find it difficult to fire their weapon with deadly intent at a mere woman.

Her attention finally settled on a familiar face, one of the only three men to have ridden with the posse since its inception. Alice didn't know his name or even who or what he was; she presumed he was a former lawman and/or hired gun who'd been a close associate of the rancher long before the killing for which he'd been pursuing Alice.

He looked Alice up and down with the hungry expression of a horny cowboy in a saloon, choosing which of the whores to take upstairs for a roll between the sheets. He cleared his throat and began, "Alice Hooper, you're under arrest for the murder of John Kenton of El Paso, Texas, killed dead by your hand on the Twelfth of August in the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and eighty-two. The warrant for your arrest doesn't specify that you are to be brought in alive … so if you continue to put up a fuss--"

Fuss was the last word the man would ever speak as Alice drew the Schofield in a flash and fired. The round entered the man's skull through his left eye and exploding out the back of it just behind the ear. Mayhem quickly ensued, with horses rearing and spinning, men pulling their weapons and trying to put bullets through Alice, and Alice herself quickly emptying the .44 into the men who appeared to be the greatest threats to her.

Alice wasn't oblivious to the math; the Schofield was quickly empty with men still uninjured or shot and yet still threatening. But even as she'd been firing, Alice had been moving through the suddenly rising cloud of dust, between the startled posse horses and toward her own. She holstered the now empty weapon and pulled the rifle from the scabbard on her well trained horse, which hadn't taken a step from its pre-shootout location.

Knowing that there was a round already chambered, she leveled the gun at the nearest figure moving about the swirly tan cloud and fired … then again at another figure and finally at a third.

And then … it was over. She would use caution as she moved about the scene, looking for threats. But the shooting was done, and although not all of the men were dead yet, they would be by the time Alice robbed them of their coin and paper money, as well as removed the wanted posters and posse authorization latter that explained why they were here in the first place.

"How was that for a fuss?" she said over the posse's leader as she put a match from his own pocket to the poster upon which was her image and name. She watched him take his last breath, then mounted her horse to depart.

The fight was over … and so was the quest to bring in Alice Hooper.



Arriving at the edge of a vast plateau in central New Mexico Territory, Alice looked down upon the town of Harrisville and felt a shiver rise up her spine. Paul Keaton's son, John, had been only one of five men who had put bullets into the body of Alice's fiancée, Cooper Lee leading to these weeks of undesired adventure.

After Alice killed John Keaton and was released due to the circumstances of Cooper's death, the other four men fled to Harrisville, where Paul Keaton's brother, Kyle, had a vast cattle ranch. Two of these four murderers were Kyle's sons, Taylor and Peter; a third man was a hand on the ranch and -- rumors claimed -- the illegitimate son of the wealthy ranch owner; and the fourth was a former gunslinger who was Kyle Keaton's enforcer and who had escorted the Keaton boys to El Paso for the marriage of Paul Keaton's only daughter, Elizabeth.

And now, Alice was going to see that these four men, too, paid for depriving her of the man she'd loved.

 

[TiredFingers]

Marshall Harlan Kendall stood outside the Harrisville Livery with his Winchester in his hands, waiting for the Hanover brothers -- Rory and Glen -- to emerge from the stables barn. The pair had been rustling cattle for years, usually sneaking away just one or two head at a time. They typically cut them up at a camp they'd set up somewhere in the woods to the east of town, smoking the meat for easy transport and sale. Aside from the meager wages they made as freelance ranch hands, bronc busters, or -- in town or at the mine -- general laborers, the cattle thefts and subsequent meat sales had been a key part of their extended family's income for as long as anyone remembered.

Harlan had always known what the boys were up to, of course, but he'd looked the other way because they'd never hurt anyone in the process. And they'd compensated the cattle owners somehow at a later date when they were flush with coin. And finally because they'd always been smart enough to stay away from the Keaton Ranch herds. Until now. Six nights ago, they'd stolen four heifers from Keaton and, in the process, indirectly causing injury to a Keaton hand who'd taken chase after the brothers and fell of his horse, breaking both a leg and a hand when he hit the wall of a rocky ravine. They hadn't admitted to the theft, but Harlan knew it was their crime. And when he stressed that they needed to make up for their crime, they continued to deny any wrong doing.

Harlan didn't consider this recent theft to be anymore more of a threat to the peace and quiet of Harrisville than any of the dozens that had preceded it. And God knows, the town had more crime and mayhem to deal with than a couple of cattle rustlers. But Harlan worked for Kyle Keaton. Not officially, of course. Officially, the Marshall worked for the New Mexico Territorial Governor and, more specifically, the people of Harris County, many of whom had been his friends since he'd come here as a young boy.

But Harlan owed his position as Marshall to one man and one man only: Kyle Keaton. And Harlan kept his position because of his attention to and reactions to issues that directly or indirectly affected the wealthy cattle rancher. To allow the Hanover's to commit this violation against Kyle Keaton would see the shiny star on his chest pulled and handed to someone who cared far less for the people of Harrisville than did Harlan.

The brothers emerged from the barn, mounted, talking animatedly to one another about what their next move should be. They didn't notice Harlan until he called out, "Stop right there, boys!"

The pair were obviously startled, pulling up on their reins as they looked with worry to the lawman. He told them, "Loose those belts and let your guns fall to the ground. Carefully! There's no need for anyone to get hurt here today."

"Are you taking us in, Marshall?" Rory called out as his horse tossed its head all about, fighting the reins that were being held back too tightly. "Taking us in 'cause them cattle were Keaton's?"

"I'm taking you in," Harlan told them with a slow, deliberate pace, "because you broke the law, and because a man got hurt and might very well die."

Glen was talking quietly to his brother, trying to convince him that they should run for it. Just barely loud enough for Harlan to hear, he said, "Marshall ain't gonna shoot us. Let's git--"

"I will shoot you, Glen," Harlan warned, looking to Rory to add, "Not because you stole Kyle Keaton's cattle, and not because you stole cattle at all, but because if that man dies, that makes you both murderers."

"We didn't murder no one!" Glen hollered, more afraid than angry. Like everyone else, he knew the power Kyle Keaton and the Keaton family in whole had throughout the New Mexico Territory and even beyond it. He looked back to his brother again, begging, "Let's go, Rory. We gotta ride."

Harlan saw the older Hanover slipping his hand back toward the six shooter on his hip and warned, "Don't touch that weapon, Rory. I will kill you."

Suddenly, the rustler reached back and pulled his pistol. He hadn't even gotten it out before him before Harlan's Winchester fired. The bullet passed easily through Rory's sternum, fracturing and tearing through the man's heart. He jerked in his saddle, and as his spooked horse spun in place, fell off it toward the ground. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Harlan kicked the spent shell out and loaded another, then leveled the weapon at Glen. The younger Hanover was watching his already dead brother on the ground as his blood drained out to create a dark puddle in the loose soil.

"Glen, get off the horse," Harlan told the second man. "Don't make the same mistake that your bro--"

But the younger Hanover was already drawing his pistol. And with another explosion of gunpowder, the Marshall sent Glen to the ground with a single bullet to the neck. The horses wandered off a few steps, and Harlan lowered his weapon. He walked over to the two dead men, shaking his head. He hated killing other men; he didn't do it often, but sometimes it became necessary. Harlan was very disturbed by what had happened here today, and he prayed now -- and would pray again later -- that this would never take place again in his town. Sometimes he thought he should turn in his badge and head farther west, maybe to California or Oregon, to open a tavern or start a small ranch of his own.

If he'd been aware of the woman looking down upon Harrisville from a hill just outside of town -- and of the mayhem she was bringing with her -- he might very have gotten on one of the Hanover's horses and started riding right now.

 

[Alice2015]

After three weeks of hard and dangerous riding to get here, Alice was almost hesitant to enter the town of Harrisville. This was where her life ended; she was either going to kill four more men before leaving for some other unknown place, or she was going to be killed during the process of exacting her revenge.

On the slight chance that she accomplished what she'd come here to do, what was she going to do after that? Where could she go that she could ever hope to be safe? She wasn't safe now with one powerful, wealthy, grieving father hunting her down; how safe could she be once there were two sending all the hired guns they could find after her?

But she urged her ride forward, knowing that there was no turning back. As her horse picked its way carefully down the trail, Alice contemplated on her present situation; in those moments when she was being fitted for her wedding dress, Alice couldn't have imagined that she would now be a hunted killer with a head count of 15 to her name.

The only reason that number hadn't stopped at 1 was that the Sheriff in El Paso had refused to charge Alice for the killing of John Keaton. He'd determined it to be a justified shooting. But then he'd also warned Alice to get out of town, telling her that she might have been safer from her victim's father if she'd actually been tried, sentenced, and sent to the nearest women's prison, over 600 miles away in Fort Worth, Texas.

Of course, the Sheriff hadn't known Alice well. Specifically, he'd had no idea that she was skilled with firearms in a way few people were.

Alice had met Cooper when he passed through her home town of St. Louis with a traveling Wild West show. There had been an immediate attraction, and -- what with neither of them being innocent virgins -- they were sharing a bed by the end of the show's 4 day run in the city.

Alice left St. Louis with the show, initially finding work behind the scenes. But after Cooper put a Colt Single Action Army Model Peacemaker he'd just repaired in her hands at the show's shooting range, to better educate her in what he himself did, the both of them were shocked when Alice was very quickly knocking down more targets than she was missing at over 30 feet.

Almost over night a star was born. The Extraordinary Alice Hooper was soon advertised on the posters nailed up in the towns to which the show was next visiting, and the crowds grew in size, with more women than had been normal in years past coming to see what this little lady from St. Louis could do with a pistol.

She performed for just over a year in cities across 8 Mid-Western states before the Wild West Show suddenly disbanded due to what a District Judge called financial irregularities at the Manager's sentencing. Suddenly, Cooper and Alice were unemployed and moving from town to town, state to state, looking for work. They found it in El Paso after responding to an advert in a Kentucky newspaper … and, of course, the story took a dramatic turn at that point.

John Keaton and his cohorts couldn't have known they were dealing with an expert in firearms when they laughed at and taunted that young woman in a bloodied, muddy wedding dress; with the exception of St. Louis and Kansas City, the Wild West Show had never performed west of the Mississippi.

They knew now, of course, not that that meant much for the 15 men Alice had already dispatched. During her three weeks on the run, the authorities back in El Paso had learned just who the the Extraordinary Alice Hooper was. She made the front page on the local newspapers, called both a talented performer and cold blooded murderer, depending on whether or not the paper in question was under the thumb of Paul Keaton.

And now here Alice was, walking her horse without haste into Harrisville, searching for Keaton's nephews plus two.

The town was pretty much what Alice had expected, maybe 24 blocks of commercial businesses and residential structures -- homes, hotels, and boarding houses -- arranged around the west and east running railroad.

Alice was far from the only person riding a horse on the dusty road coming into Harrisville, but -- as a woman in a dress with a revolver on her hip and rifle beneath her leg -- she got more than her share of attention from those who spotted her.

Three or four blocks into town, as she caught sight of a boarding house that might serve her needs, Alice caught the attention of someone she would have preferred to avoid: the Marshall.

 

[TiredFingers]

Harlan had spent much of the day dealing with the aftermath of killing the Hanover brothers. He'd had to arrange for the proper treatment of the bodies with the undertaker, then justify the shooting with the Circuit Judge (which had taken all of five minutes seeing how the man had known the two sibling criminals all their lives), and then take a ride out to the Hanover ranch to explain to Rory and Glen's mother that he'd killed her boys after they'd drawn on him. She'd understood, of course, for like the judge and the undertaker, she'd been expecting their lives to end as they had, early and violently.

Back in town Harlan was dealing with another situation regarding normally petty criminals taking things to the next level when he saw a stranger riding into town from the south. Harrisville was visited by strangers on a daily basis, but this one was very much worth the Marshall stepping away from his current task to take a gander.

Despite the layers of road dust on her clothes and face and even in her hair, Harlan could see that the woman high in the saddle of a tall Appaloosa was a beauty. But it wasn't just her looks that got the Marshall's attention. Around her waist, she wore a large caliber revolver in a leather holster that the experienced lawman could see had been designed for quick draw deployment. And the rifle in a scabbard under the fender of her saddle wasn't placed in a way that was the most comfortable for long distance riding but was instead placed such that an experienced rider and shooter could pull it with one hand even while at a full gallop.

Harlan came quickly to the conclusion that, one, this woman had stolen or borrowed the horse from a man who lived by the gun or she herself was that man. Either way, he found himself eager to have a bit of a chat with her. She'd made eye contact with him with he first saw her, then turned her attention back to the town before her. But as she got the nearest to him that her path would get her, Harlan called out, "Miss!"

If she stopped, he would ask her if he could have a word with her, then ask her the basic questions a Marshall might want to know of a strange, armed woman. If she didn't, he'd let it go and catch up to her later. She wasn't going anywhere today, of course, as few people entered Harrisville from one direction simply to ride directly out of the town in the other.

 

[Alice2015]

Alice was no idiot; when she caught the Marshall glancing her way, she only gave him a slight smile that showed her lack of interest in him and continued to walk her horse onward.

But then, "Miss...?"

Alice hesitated before looking his way, and when he asked if he could have a word with her, she continued to nonchalantly act disinterested, as if she had no reason to speak to a Marshall yet at the same time had no reason to avoid one either.

She gently wheeled the appaloosa toward the man and crossed at an angle that allowed her to look down at him over her left shoulder while letting her right hand slip inconspicuously back toward the Schofield on her right. Alice smiled to him a bit more politely, asking, "What can I do for you, Marshall?"

He asked if she was passing through or contemplating sticking around for a while, to which Alice answered, "I'm meeting people to continue northward. They'll be sending me a cable tomorrow. Can you point me in the direction of the telegraph office?"

The Marshall did, then asked who it was she would be waiting for, quickly asking from where she herself had come. Alice wondered whether or not the man was aware of the trek upon which she'd found herself … and the trail of bodies she'd left in her dust trail.

The posse that had been chasing her had been sanctioned by a private individual, not The Law; would the word have gotten out about a blonde woman murdering an innocent man on the steps of a saloon, accompanied with a shoot on sight wanted poster that would have been distributed about the Territory upon a network of stage coaches?

She'd learned over the years that it was easier to remember your lies if those lies were more true than false. Alice told the Marshall, "My husband will be joining me soon. He's a gunsmith, in El Paso. His employment there … it ended rather abruptly, and … we're looking for somewhere new to establish … perhaps buy a home … start a family."

Alice intentionally didn't answer the half of the question regarding her origin, but found she needed to do so. "I'm from St. Louis … but I came to your beautiful town from El Paso. Been riding for three days, so … if you don't mind, Marshall … I'd like to find a hotel or boarding house … get a bath … a change of clothes … some sleep."

She thought she'd cleared the hurdles of suspicion as the Marshall directed her to a variety of businesses that would serve her needs … then he asked about the revolver on her hip. Alice's gaze didn't leave the man as she contemplated her response, finally telling him with a slight shrug and a polite smile, "A girl traveling on her on … she can't be too careful. I don't know how to use it well … but the simple presence of it on my hip … I think it helps me stay safe, don't you agree, Marshall?"

 

[TiredFingers]

As the woman answered his questions, Harlan studied her face and body language for signs of deceit. Other than a bit of nervousness, which he blamed on her suddenly finding herself being questioned in the street by a Marshall, he didn't get a sense that she was betraying him in any way. Oh, if he had only known.

"Can you point me in the direction of the telegraph office?"

"Down the street on the left," he informed her, adding when she asked about possibilities for a bed and bath, "There are two hotels, also down the street, opposite one another 'bout four blocks down. Before that, though, if you take the right after the Grey Horse Saloon, you'll find the Miller boarding house. It's cheap, if money is a concern, but clean, and the Widow Miller makes the best casserole in town."

When the woman responded about the firearm on her waist, though, Harlan didn't buy her story of not knowing how to use it and of carrying it mostly for show. There was something about her that made the lawman believe she could use the weapon more than just well. But he said nothing more about it until he tipped her hat to her and shared his farewells.

He'd keep an eye on her, of course, but from a safe distance.

 

[Alice2015]

"Thank you, Marshall," Alice said with a polite smile, finishing, "Money's always a concern, isn't it? I suppose I have four blocks to decide which I have more of … concern or money."

She smiled to the man, wheeled the appaloosa, and walked it away. Alice wished she had eyes in the back of head, giving her the ability to study his reaction to her. Did he know about the chase by a private posse of a woman across Texas and New Mexico? It was very possible.

Even though the Sheriff back in El Paso had refused to charge Alice for killing John Keaton, the dead man's father was powerful and influential; Paul Keaton would very well have gotten the District Judge to issue an official warrant for Alice's arrest.

The wanted poster Alice had removed from the posse leader's pocket after killing him and his cohort had been a private and personal thing. But by now, three weeks later, Alice's image could be on government-issued posters circulating all over the States and Territories of the Southwest, Rockies, and Great Plains.

If the Marshall was aware of the chase, you he suspect that Alice was that very woman? Again, possible. But Alice doubted it … for now. She'd only conversed with the man for a couple of minutes, and yet Alice had a feeling that he wasn't the type to just let things like her situation lie. If she'd known that just this morning, the Marshall had killed two men for rustling and assault, she would have known he was the take-action type as opposed to the type who just wore the badge and collected the pay.

As she walked her horse down the street, smartly resisting looking back at the lawman, Alice wondered what the odds were that the Keatons were expecting her. She'd made threats against her fiancée's other four killers, but they'd been made from inside the El Paso jail cell with only the Sheriff in attendance. The man had been sympathetic enough to release her without charge; would he have kept secret the fact that she intended to chase the other murderers down?

Alice's trek away from El Paso had never been what one might call a straight shot for Harrisville. She'd zigzagged all over Western and Northern Texas and the Southeastern portion of New Mexico before killing off the posse in the latter. By the time the bodies of the posse members were found on the shore of the Pecos, Alice hoped to have her work here completed. (With any luck, the corpses would be found by some drover or Indian who had no interest in reporting them.)

All Alice knew right now was that she needed to find these four men and kill them as soon as possible.

No, that wasn't the only thing she knew right now; she also knew she needed a bath and a change of clothes!

She decided upon the boarding house and followed the Marshall's directions. The building was a block and a half off the main road, closer to the stinky ol' Livery and a Mexican run and patronized cantina than to any of the more upscale downtown features like the nice restaurants and shops.

It seemed perfect for Alice; the last time anyone of importance had seen her, Alice had been wearing a very expensive wedding dress -- albeit covered in blood and mud -- while preparing for a lavish wedding. She didn't think anyone would be looking for her here. The boarding house was in serious disrepair, with shutters hanging loose from half the windows and one of the two sets up stairs rising to the porch roped off due to several broken steps. A pair of old men still wearing what remained of their Confederate Army uniforms slept away the remainder of their lives in motionless wooden rocking chairs on that porch, surrounded by dogs that looked equally old and exhausted by life.

Alice tossed the appaloosa's reins over the hitching rail without bothering to secure them; Lucy wouldn't wander off, and even if she did it would only be to take a drink from a nearby water barrel or munch on the grass growing near the building's corner. She loosed the thongs holding her saddle bags in place and tossed them over one shoulder, then withdrew the Henry rifle from its scabbard and headed up the usable set of steps.

Inside, Alice found an empty lobby. She made her way to the counter -- also without a human presence -- and found the registration book opened. Comparing it to the occupied hooks on the back wall, Alice signed into Room 8, retrieved the key, and headed upstairs.

The room was pretty much what she'd expected, something between what she'd find in a saloon or in a hotel though smaller than both at barely 10 by 12 feet. There was an old bed with a brass frame, a small table at the window with two chairs, a wardrobe -- open with several hangers and shelves, all empty -- and a small couch with a squat table before it as well.

A bureau on another wall featured a mirror -- cracked in two but still stable -- a pitcher, and a wash tub. Alice tossed her possessions onto the bed and checked the pitcher, smiling at the sight of water filling it nearly to the top. She sniffed at it for odor, and finding it acceptable. She wet a rag folded nearby, loosened some buttons, and set about washing some of the dirt from her face, neck, and arms.

Alice caught the sound of boots on the wooden stairs, then the hallway. She pulled the Schofield from its holster and waited. The obvious sounds of a woman's pace stopped before her door, a knock sounded, and a female voice asked expectantly, "Miss?"

Alice kept the revolver behind the door as she opened it, looking out upon a woman she presumed was too young to be the Widow Miller.

"Are you Missus Cooper?" the young woman asked, using the given name of Alice's fiancée, with which the boarder had signed the book. When Alice nodded, the young woman informed her, "I'm Missy. I run the place when my aunt isn't here."

"Nice to meet you, Missy," Alice said with a smile. She used her mother's given name, saying, "I'm Sally."

"You alone, Sally?" Missy asked, leaning just a bit to peek past Alice. She continued before Alice could respond, "We don't allow no couples, particularly unmarried couples."

"I'm alone," Alice said with a slight smile.

"Women boarders ain't allowed male visitors neither," the young woman continued. Before Alice could reassure Missy that she wouldn't be sharing her bed with men, the young woman continued, "There's a saloon down the block that 'lows women to--"

"I'm not a whore," Alice cut the woman off, giving her a sharp look. "I'm just passing through town … alone. I'll be staying here alone, and I'll be leaving here alone."

As soon as she spoke that last part, Alice knew she'd made an error. She'd told the Marshall she was waiting for her husband to arrive, hadn't she? She found it likely that the Marshall and Missy would, at some point, have an opportunity to compare notes on her. Oh well, it was done.

"Nightly rate's eighty cents," Missy informed Alice. "Four dollar ninety five for the week if you think you'll be that long."

Alice nodded, turned, and stepped back into the room. She slipped the Schofield under her saddle bags without the boarding house worker having seen it, not that it mattered much; the empty holster was out in view. There was also a Henry rifle laying across the folded quilt.

Alice expected Missy to take a peek inside the room and wasn't disappointed when she heard the door's hinge's squeal just a bit behind her. Alice gathered more coins than were necessary and returned to stand before Missy, who was eying her dirty shift and bloomers with concern.

"I need a bath, obviously," Alice said. "And these'll need to be washed. Don't suppose you have a provision of borrowable clothes and a laundress?"

"Of course," Missy answered. "For another--"

"Take what you need, Missy," Alice interrupted, holding out her opened hand, filled with coins. "Plan on me staying the week."

Missy hesitated, looking at the coins while she did the math. She took what would pay for room, board, laundry, and a full set of loaners clothes, then told Alice, "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner's served for two hours, from six, noon, and six again. If you want anything after hours--"

"I won't, Missy, but thank you," Alice cut in, taking a slight step forward that was meant to indicate it was time for the young woman to leave. "Where can I get this bath?"

"Downstairs, end of the hall," the Missy responded. "I have hot water on, but … if you give me a few minutes--"

"Take your time, Missy," Alice said, continuing to urge the younger woman out. "I'll see you in a bit. And you'll have some clothes I can change into?"

Missy nodded, took one last look beyond Alice into the room, then turned and began to head away.

"Missy!" Alice called out just as the other woman reached the stairs. "Do you have someone who can take care of my horse for me. She's out front."

"Yes, Miss Sally, we have a boy … I'll send him," Missy answered. She glanced to the coins in her hand, then began hesitantly, "He'll, um … he'll want to be--"

"Pay him, Missy, and I'll reimburse you," Alice said.

They shared a smile, and as Missy turned and left, Alice returned to her room. She took a few minutes to empty her saddlebags and distribute some of the contents as appropriate. She was going to divide the clean and dirty clothes, then realized there wasn't a stitch of clothing that wasn't dirty. She hadn't done laundry since leaving El Paso and had, instead, simply bought or stolen clothing at times along her trek.

Alice liked this dress, though, and decided she'd launder and continue to wear it. She slipped the Schofield into her saddle bags, hid the Henry against the wall behind the wardrobe, stored the holster under the pillow, and headed downstairs for a badly needed bath.

 

[TiredFingers]

Harlan watched the woman ride away, her horse at a comfortable walk. He kept her eyes on her until she'd turned the corner a full four blocks away. He knew that people feeling guilt or worry -- criminals -- always looked back to see if the law was paying them any attention. This new visitor to Harrisville didn't. That didn't guarantee anything, Harlan knew. But it did cause him conflict after having so quickly made an assumption based upon the weapon on her hip and the big rifle in her saddle.

"Marshall?"

Harlan turned back to the business at hand and, for the moment, dismissed the woman in blue.



"Good afternoon, Marshall."

Harlan smiled to Missy as he entered the boarding house, removing his hat and asking how she and her aunt were doing. They chatted for a moment about this and that and the other thing, but Harlan could see in the young woman's expression that she knew why he was here.

"So, you have a new boarder … a woman," he said softly, not wanting his voice to be heard beyond the house's lobby. He thought he saw concern in Missy's face and quickly reassured her, "Nothing to fear or be concerned about. You know me, girl. Always on top of whose in our town."

It was true that Harlan kept on top of things in Harrisville. Often, as with Alice, he spotted newcomers and either made their acquaintance then and there or caught up with them later. Other times, people such as Missy or her aunt or the operators of the hotels or saloons came to him with word of new faces. How ever it came to be, stranger rarely if ever spend more than a few hours in his town without Harlan knowing about them.

"Anything you can tell me about her?" he asked Missy, adding even more quietly, "If you don't mind, I mean."

 

[Alice2015]

Harlan wasn't entirely unexpected at the boarding house. He made his rounds most days to check if anyone new had registered. And besides, Missy suspected that the older lawman just liked to look at her on occasion, seeing how most of the men in town did.

The Marshall had always been very respectful to Missy. It was his nature, or it was when he was in her presence, anyways. She didn't know what he might be like when he was down at the jail house or in the saloon or at any one of the establishments where men typically spend time.

The 19 year old Missy would never been seen in any of those places, of course. She was a good girl, first; second, her Aunt -- who had been her guardian since her parents died half a decade earlier -- would beat her with a switch until she bled if she was ever to put herself in such a place or position that would attract the attention of undesirable men or an unwanted reputation.

"Good afternoon, Marshall," she said with a sweet smile and even a bit of a curtsey. Missy had seen an elegant woman make the slight movement once in a hotel where a traveling guild of actors were performing, and she'd thought it looked so … well, she didn't really have a word for it, but ever since, she'd been curtseying for the Marshall, the Mayor, and the occasional out-if-towner who held some sort of worthy status. (Missy had met the Territorial Governor at a Church picnic once and curtseyed so long she lost her balance and had to be caught before she hit the lawn.)

"So, you have a new boarder … a woman," Harlan said.

The Marshall's soft tone -- unusual for when he came around looking for information -- concerned Missy, enough so that she looked about herself to see if anyone else was within earshot. Harlan must have noticed her reaction, reassuring her, "Nothing to fear or be concerned about. You know me, girl. Always on top of whose in our town."

"Miss Sally Cooper," Missy informed the lawman. "Didn't fill out the part of the register 'bout where she was comin' from."

"Anything you can tell me about her?" he continued. "If you don't mind, I mean."

Missy shrugged. "Not much I can tell you, Marshall. Paid for a week … for baths and a change of clothes while I launder hers."

Missy looked to the hallway that led to the Ladies' bathing room, then leaned in closer and whispered, "Got a big rifle … and a gun … revolver. She hid it from me, Marshall … didn't want me to see it. Don't know why. Do you?"

She listened to Harlan's response, then continued, "Paid for a week. Did I say that already? A week's room, board, laundry … for one. Traveling alone."

Missy laughed a bit, then blushed remembering Sally declaring that she wasn't a whore. She leaned in again, telling Harlan, "Wanted me to know for certain and sure she wasn't a..."

She felt her face blush again, then finished cryptically, "That she wouldn't be having male guests in her room."

Missy looked about again, particularly toward the bathing room door before saying, "Said she arrived alone, would stay alone, and would leave alone."

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC: For some reason, my computer posted the reply above before I was done. I will be adding another post in a moment.)

 

[Alice2015]

(OOC: Continuing from the post 2 above. I removed the last paragraph and added it here, as I had a major change in mind but the reply posted when I did something weird.)

Missy couldn't have any idea that Alice had told the lawman different about her status of being alone or waiting for someone. Even if she had known about the inconsistently, though, Missy would have told the Marshall what she'd been told.

Why?

Missy had a thing for Marshall Harlan Kendall. Yes, he was old enough to be her father … maybe even her grandfather, she wasn't certain, as she'd never asked him his age. But his position as Marshall, his gentlemanliness, and his rugged good looks and maturity -- both mentally and physically -- had caused her heart to speed up in his presence since she was barely into her teens.

"Are you going to the Town Square Dance tonight, Marshall?" she blurted out suddenly. Before he could even answer, fearful that he would say no, Missy explained, "My aunt, you know how she is … she won't let me go without a proper male escort, and what with Uncle Kyle being out of town buying cattle or whatever it is that he does when he's out of town, that only leaves my cousins … and Aunt Delores won't let me be around them. Says she doesn't trust me 'round them … or, them 'round me, I mean."

Kyle Keaton -- whose three sons, two legitimate and one illegitimate, Alice was in Harrisville to kill -- had been the cousin of Missy's now deceased mother. Although he was actually Missy's cousin once removed, she'd always called him Uncle Kyle because he was 30 years older than she and Cousin Kyle just didn't seem to fit. In fact, all 3 of Kyle's sons were older than Missy, too.

Delores Parker Miller -- the Aunt who ran the boarding house -- had been the sister of Missy's father, Martin Parker. Delores had married a local rancher, Victor Miller, and after his death from fever, Delores -- likely forever to be known as the Widow Miller -- sold the ranch and bought the boarding house, upon which the bank had foreclosed even before its completion more than two decades ago.

There had been an ongoing battle since Missy was 13 years old over with whom Missy should be living. Kyle Keaton obviously had money; he had a large ranch house in which Missy would always be comfortable and well protected; and he had a wife and daughter who could provide female companionship and guidance.

Delores, however, had so little money that she barely kept the boarding house doors open; she could only offer Missy a single room, next to her own on the first floor near the kitchen; and rather than two well behaved, well educated, elegant female family members to serve as role models, Delores had miners, ranch hands, gamblers, laundresses, and vagrants with unknown backgrounds.

But there was one more thing that Delores didn't have that Kyle Keaton had: a cock. Delores had seen the way Missy's uncle had eyed her as she was coming of age and growing into her curves. She hadn't trusted that man around the young teenager who hadn't even begun her womanly bleeding, and she didn't trust him around her now 6 years later after she'd developed into a beauty young woman for whom a never ending parade of men was coming to the boarding house to call on her.

"If'n I was to tell my Aunt that you would be at the dance to watch over me..." Missy began, flashing him a wide hopeful smile.

 

[TiredFingers]

Sally Cooper, Harlan thought as Missy spoke about her new boarder. He didn't know any Coopers, not from the local population or from the wanted posters and letters of interest that arrived day in, day out either on the stage or train or were delivered to his office from the telegraph office.

Missy was obviously hesitant to make reference to prostitution when she began explaining, "Wanted me to know for certain and sure she wasn't a … … That she wouldn't be having male guests in her room."

Harlan couldn't help but see the blush fill the young woman's face. He smiled, almost chuckling at her naïve innocence. Missy was a cute little thing who never failed to make Harlan laugh on his near-daily visits to the boarding house. And while he thought he'd hidden it better than he did, Harlan did in fact make sure to come down and check in with her often -- even when the house had no new guests -- just to have the opportunity to refresh her image and his fantasies in his mind.

He was too old to have an intimate relationship with a girl like Missy, of course. That's what Harlan told himself often. Doing so made him less likely to make an attempt to call on her for the purpose of courting her, something she would surely but politely turn down. If only Harlan had known that Missy had an such an intimate interest in him, too. The occasions that he held his cock in his hand while picturing her beneath him might have been something far more satisfying that spewing his seed into a handkerchief.

Missy added, "Said she arrived alone, would stay alone, and would leave alone."

Harlan did, in fact, catch the inconsistency between what this Sally Cooper had told him and what Missy was saying Alice had told her. This mere inconsistency of being alone or with someone else wouldn't have been reason enough to cause concern. But coupled with that quick draw revolver on her hip and the condition of her appearance -- as if she'd been on the road for quite sometime, possibly even on the run -- and the woman piqued the Marshall's interest even higher.

Missy broke Harlan's contemplation of Alice with, "Are you going to the Town Square Dance tonight, Marshall?"

Harlan smiled a bit, curious about Missy's interest in his attendance or lack thereof. He made an appearance at all of Harrisville's gatherings, of course, as was fitting for his position of authority in the community. But people rarely if ever asked him about such things before hand. When Missy began explaining about needing a chaperone, though, Harlan couldn't help but find the conversation a bit disturbing. Was Missy asking him to escort her to the dance? She was, obviously. But, as what? As the Marshall? Or, as something more? She couldn't possibly have an interest in him as a man. She was a child in comparison to Harlan, or at least she was in his mind. And yet, that didn't stop him from pounding his cock to fantasies of being deep inside her.

The mention of Kyle Keaton sent an uncomfortable shiver up the Marshall's spine. He'd never liked the rancher. Kyle was a bully using his wealth and power to get from people things they wouldn't give up to anyone else. And, like Missy's aunt the Widow Miller, Harlan had seen how Kyle Keaton looked at his distant cousin. Harlan had little doubt that Kyle would very much like to do to Missy the things that Harlan fantasized about with the young woman.

Missy told Harlan, "If'n I was to tell my Aunt that you would be at the dance to watch over me..."

He felt a bit less self conscious now that he understood that Missy was simply asking him to look over her during the social event, maybe even less self conscious enough that by the time he stepped away from the boarding house counter that his cock would have shrunk from its current state of stiffness.

"I will hope that between the many young gentlemen seeking your company," Harlan said with a bit of a dramatic bow, "that you will grace me with a dance or two."

They chatted a bit more about the event before Harlan leaned in close and said softly, "And if you will do me a favor, Missy … I would greatly like to know whether or not your new boarder meets with anyone … perhaps someone coming in from out of town … family … maybe even a husband."

They finished their conversation, and Harlan promised to look for Missy at the dance. He departed and returned to the jail house, where one of his Deputies was going through a stack of wanted posters that had arrived hours earlier on the stage. "Anything in those about a female? Perhaps wanted in or around El Paso? St. Louis maybe?"

The Deputy told him no, but that he had a number of them still to go through. Most were duplication or updates regarding criminals and fugitives that had been sought by local Sheriffs or U.S. Marshalls for months or even years. Some would be put up on the walls that flanked the jail house doors, while others would go down to the bank to be given to the tellers and manager to alert them to their sort of threats. Other posters would make their way to the outhouse to be used for a purpose that was sometimes more important.

"I want to know if anything comes in regarding a female," Harlan stressed. "Particularly, young, maybe 20s or 30s. Blonde, pretty."

 

[Alice2015]

No sooner had Harlan departed than a jubilant Missy Parker bounded down the hallway to the Ladies' bathing room. She passed through the first door into a room that included a small cast iron water heating stove. She fed the fire another two split logs, then donned a glove to turn a tap and fill a pitcher with steaming water.

"Miss Cooper, may I come in?" she said after knocking on a second door. After getting the go ahead from Alice, Missy entered and quickly closed the door behind her. She displayed the steaming pitcher before her, asking, "Would you like me to top off the tub?"

"I'm ready to rinse, Missy," Alice said instead.

Missy wasn't typically in the bathing room when the female boarders stripped and entered the tubs or exited them to rinse, dry, and dress. She was shy about nudity, as she was about all things sexual. So except for warming the bath with additional pitchers and bringing in the rinse water -- and occasionally helping a woman wash her hair -- she was rarely in the bathing room otherwise and thus didn't see a great deal of naked flesh belonging to the house's patrons.

So it was a bit of a surprise to Missy when Alice simply stood tall in the tub, exposing her dripping body down as far as her knees. Missy looked away quickly, asking, "Would you like me to leave, Miss Sally?"

"No, I'd like you to help me rinse," Alice said before looking to see that Missy had very nearly turned entirely away from her. She chuckled, saying, "I'm sorry, Missy, I don't mean to laugh. Do you not normally help rinse your female boarders?"

"No, Miss Sally," the younger woman responded. "I usually just put the pitcher on the rolling table and leave. Shall I...? Leave, I mean?"

"No, I want you to help me rinse, Missy," Alice said, chuckling again. "I mean, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Miss Sally," Missy said meekly as she set the pitcher down as described she retrieved a padded board leaning against the tub and laid it across the width of it.

Alice sat on the board, then waggled a hand in Missy's direction, saying, "Let me test it."

Missy moved closer, her gaze still diverted as she held the pitcher near enough for Alice to dip a finger in to test the temperature. "It's perfect, Missy. Let's rinse my hair."

The younger woman was quiet for a moment, then simply said, "Yes, Miss Sally."

Missy carefully lifted the pitcher in two hands and slowly poured it over Alice's head. As the other woman ran her hands through her hair, getting out the floral scented shampoo her aunt bought from a local Indian woman, Missy allowed herself to finally check the womanly curves of the woman sitting naked before her.

Alice was older than the girl by almost a decade, yet she still firm in her bosom and slim through her waist. Her skin was fair and smooth and flawless, with the exception of two scars on her shoulder that Missy would have thought was a through and through bullet wound if she'd seen it on a male, which of course she wouldn't have since she would never help a male patron bathe!

As Alice's hands lowered to direct the flowing water over her body and rid it of the soap clinging to her, Missy took in the curves of the woman's breasts ... the large, pink nipples that -- despite the warmth of the water -- were swollen by chill air in the room ... the short muff of blonde hair, darkened a bit by water, in a triangle at the meeting of the woman's thighs and belly.

Something about that patch of hair seemed unnatural to Missy, as if there should be more but wasn't. Missy didn't realize she was staring down there until she heard Alice say, "I trim it."

Missy's eyes opened in shock -- not at the trimming concept but at being caught staring at Alice's womanhood -- and she backed up a bit, as if she'd suddenly been bit by the boarder. Alice laughed again, reassured Missy that all was still well, and told her to get another pitcher of hot water.

Missy hurried off to fill the pitcher in the next room then returned. And as they resumed rinsing Alice's body, the younger woman asked tentatively, "I don't understand ... trim it...? Why?"

Alice smiled at the girl's naivete. Honestly, how many young women like Missy had even heard of such a thing? Alice wasn't even sure how to explain it, or if she even wanted to try.

"You're not married are you, Missy?" Alice asked. When the girl shook her head, Alice continued, "Have you ever been with a man...? Had sex--"

"No!" Missy said quick and sharp, adding immediately, "Of course not!"

"Of course not," Alice agreed. She contemplated how to proceed, then figured that being up front and explicit was the best way to go. "You understand what sex is, though, right?"

Missy nodded hesitantly, now standing there with the pitcher in both hands pressed up against her own bosom as if it was a shield protecting her life.

"You know what it means for a man and a woman to have intercourse ... to couple?" Alice continued.

Missy was hesitant to nod this time but did before adding, "Breed ... to make a baby."

Alice couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, breed ... to make a baby. But ... sometimes ... men and women ... they couple ... or breed for a purpose other than making a baby ... right?"

Again Missy hesitated, then nodded. She may have been naïve, but she knew about how men and women sought pleasure from one another through the same act that sometimes created a new life. "I heard a man one time call it..."

She looked around as if she was afraid there was someone else in the room who would hear her, then mouthed the word Fucking.

"It's okay to say it here, Missy ... here with me in the bathing room," Alice reassured the other woman.

Missy hesitated, then said barely above a whisper, "Fucking. They fuck. For pleasure. Like the fallen women at the saloon do ... for coin."

"Yes, that's right," Alice agreed, again smiling at the girl's naivete. "But it isn't just fallen women and dusty cowboys. Sometimes, people who are in love couple ... fuck ... simply for the pleasure of doing so. Do you understand?"

When Missy nodded her head again, Alice continued, "My fiancée and I ... we were in love, and we fucked--"

"Fiancée...?" Missy cut in suddenly. "Before you were married--"

Alice had immediately realized what she'd done wrong and corrected quickly, "My husband. He was my fiancée ... but we got married--"

"But after you--" The word caught in Missy's throat, then she finished, "fucked?"

Alice knew it was hopeless to try to cover her mistake so she simply fessed up. "My fiancée and I, Missy ... we were in love, and we knew that we were going to marry ... so ... we sometimes made love ... for pleasure."

"But not to make a baby...?"

Alice was suddenly wishing she hadn't tried to give a lesson on life to the young, innocent woman. She answered, "No, not to have a baby."

"Does cutting your hair ... down there," Missy began, taking a short glance again to Alice's crotch. "Does that make ... fucking ... is it more pleasurable?"

"No, you don't trim down there to--"

"I don't trim down there!" Missy cut in with a horrified expression filling her face.

"No, no! I don't mean you ... as in you Missy," Alice corrected. "I mean, you ... as in women ... women who trim. Understand?"

Missy did and nodded. Alice continued, "I mean for me, for example. I trim down there because of something else my fiancée did to me ... for pleasure ... something that wasn't intercourse...?"

Alice hesitated, giving Missy an expectant look, hoping she would understand. But after a moment, it was obvious that the very nervous woman had absolutely no idea to where Alice was going.

Alice reached a hand down to her groin, then parted her knees a bit. Missy didn't hesitate to look away, her face exploding in a blush yet again. "You know this little bit of flesh here ... the very sensitive one?"

Missy didn't respond except to simply stare at the wall as if she thought looking at Alice would turn her to stone. Alice reassured her, "Missy, it's okay to talk about this with me. Someone has to tell you about this, and I get the feeling that your aunt isn't going to be the one to do that.

Missy eventually looked back to Alice, keeping her gaze mostly on the older woman's face but occasionally glancing downward with the hopes that she didn't see more than she wanted. Alice continued, "Sometimes, a man touch a woman here ... to her button ... to pleasure her. Understand?"

Missy nodded tentatively.

"And sometimes, Missy ... he will use his mouth ... his tongue--"

The younger woman's eyes were visibly opening in shock.

"--to pleasure the woman he loves."

"His tongue?" Missy whispered in shock. "Down there?"

"Yes, down there," Alice told her, trying to contain her smile and laughter. "It's allowed ... when two people love one another."

That last statement was ironic, of course. Alice and her fiancée, Cooper, had been in one another's presence for only four days before they were cot testing in the tent he inhabited when on road with the Traveling Wild West Show, and they had been far from in love by that point.

Suddenly, as if were possible, Missy's eyes widened even more as she asked, "And you trim your hair ... so he doesn't ... I mean ... in his mouth ... hairs."

Alice nodded, then gestured for Missy to return to dumping hot water over her body, which now had gooseflesh all over it from the combination of the room's chill and her desire to have a man's tongue running up and down her love button.

She expected more questions from Missy about what she'd just learned, but surprisingly, the girl was quiet through the rinsing unless it had to do with water and soap. She handed Alice a towel and then began showing some of the clothes they kept for those times when a boarder needed something to wear.

When Alice was once again fully dressed -- her boots the only thing on her that had also been on her when she entered -- Missy lowered her gaze to the floor and asked with obvious hesitation, "Will you tell me more later, Miss Sally ... about ... about fucking?"

"Of course, Missy," Alice answered. Before she headed for her room for a nap -- Missy had provided her with a clean nightgown as well -- Alice told the girl with a reassuring tone, "It is better to know about things than to not."

They arranged for Missy to bring a meal up to Alice's room later, rather than Alice coming down to eat with the other boarders, then Alice headed off contemplating the conversation they'd shared. In her room, Alice undressed once again, slipped into her night gown and then into the blankets -- despite the sun still being an hour from falling behind the distant mountains -- and then, after recalling the talk down in the bathing room, found that sensitive button about which she'd talked and drove herself to a very satisfying orgasm.

(OOC: Sending you a PM about Missy.)

 

[Alice2015]

We have decided to put this on hold while we write a different role play together. If you were following along, please feel free to remain subscribed in case we come back to this later.