Dusty Spurs

[AngelofDeath]

[OOC: Closed for Pix]

Somewhere in Wyoming

A horse wanted through the open plain, a bleeding and unconscious woman on its back. One saddle bag bulged with money.

The last thing Cassandra Mcleran or Cassi as she liked, really remembered before she woke up briefly on the back of her horse was the sound of shouts, swears and gun fire. Maybe some screaming too. She let out a muffled oath as her side reminded her of just how bad off she was. "It was just to be one more damned heist." One more and Cassi had plans of going straight. No more stealing, no more killing, no more any of it. So much for being able to retire and live the quite life. Be a woman, maybe someone's wife. She wasn't sure how, but things had just gone wrong. She had tried to get Jacob and the others out of there, but once the guns came out it was over. The gang was dead, dying or captured. She was wound, badly it felt like and god knows where. She had two wounds actually, the other was in her thigh.

This was a great way to go. Out in the open land, shot, sun baked and money that was at the moment worthless. Maybe this was God's way of making her pay for her sins. "If you're up there and listening, I swear if you put me anyplace but a jail or a grave I will do better." Cassi was done with her old life, one way or another. Green eyes squinted under the sun's harsh rays. Her hat long gone, thankfully all that raven black hair of hers was pulled back. All she had now was her horse, her saddle and bags, a useless pair of jeans and shirt and her formerly lucky black duster. Oh and her boots, couldn't forget those.

Her mother had been a maid and a whore. A younger Cassi hadn't wanted that life and forged her own. Stealing was as good as any and she was quick with a gun, so that solved any issues of her partners thinking she was worth messing with. Hard of mind and sharp of tongue, Cassi had heard more than once she was easy on the eyes. Tall, 5'10 she had a body men liked, even with the fine layering of muscle on her body.

Reaching down to her side, Cassi pulled a bloody hand up to her face. "Dammit," she muttered before another stab of pain swept her unconscious. Her horse kept moving though. The sun was starting to set as the horse stopped outside of a homestead. Impatiently the roan stallion let out a whinny,and pawed a hoof at the ground. Cassi didn't rouse as the door began to open, lantern light streaming out from inside.

 

[Pix]

Skip Worcester tried to get to sleep in his makeshift home. He had stumbled upon the cabin in the middle of the high plains, far off from any township, or other sign of civilization. It was like an oasis in the middle of the desert, a central point between about four rather large towns. Skip had been riding from Point A to Point B when his horse came up lame. Luckily he had found the cabin, but with good luck came bad and nobody was occupying the place. Skip had been there for almost a week, and not one sign humanity. He had butchered his horse to augment his food supply and one of the only things he could find in the cottage was preserves.

Things were tough going for Skip. He felt that maybe he would finally meet his end, all without accomplishing what he was put on the earth by god to do. The young man didn't know specifically what it was, but he was absolutely positive he had a higher destiny than that of most men.

He looked at the large blacksmithing hammer in its holster on one of the empty tables. He hated to think that someone may stumble across his bones in the future and have no idea how special the hammer he carried was. They would just think it was a regular hammer, and it would be too heavy to carry, so it would sit and rot in the high plains just like poor old Skip.

A small fire raged on in the empty cabin. Not only did it get cold out in the wilderness at night, but the dancing light soothed Skip in the cabin. He had thought about the empty dwelling since he had arrived. Skip wondered what happened to person or people who built it. He did not see any human remains. Aside from the furniture and preserves, it clearly looked like it had either been ransacked or quickly packed up. Skip arrived at an unsettling conclusion; natives must have raided the place and carried the dweller or dwellers away. That's why Skip liked the fire, it kept him alert, and sent signal to the natives that someone was there...and alert.

Skip was drifting off to sleep when he heard the noise from outside. He couldn't be sure, but he thought it was a horse. No sound was made for a little bit after the first one. Skip thought maybe it was an echo of his own horse in his memories. Then he heard another whinny. He was up that time and he knew it came from outside. Had the natives come? Was the cabin and the small grove it was built on haunted?

The stranded cowboy was sick of being stranded. Maybe he was going to meet his maker without leaving any great legacy behind, but it was better than rotting to death inside that empty cottage. Skip grabbed his six shooter off the table, and donned his gray hat. He picked up the belt, heavy with the hammer, and put his gun in the empty holster. He lit a lantern from the small fire and walked to the door of the cabin, the spurs of his boots jingling, his gun jangling, and the heavy hammer thudding as he walked.

He opened the door and held up his lantern against the night sky and sure enough he saw the unsettling black silhouette of a rider on a horse, eerily staying so still. Skip drew his gun, slowly and quietly. He held the lantern and approached cautiously, gun fixed on the imposing black figure.

"Tell me who you are right now!" Skip demanded.

 

[AngelofDeath]

Whatever force or will that had kept Cassi on her horse, despite her injuries and state of unconsciousness let go. Cassi was dimly away of a voice, a man's voice coming from in front of her as she slipped of the back of the stallion and hit the ground with a noticeable thump. The reins fell from her hands as the lantern light caught her face, showing off the fact that she was female. When she had fell Cassi had let out a small noise, more from the contact of the ground on her wounds than the dull pain that had been her company.

The pain in her head from her fall, brought her around long enough to squint in the darkness and try to find the source of the voice she heard. Her position on the ground didn't help much as she made out the outline of a body. That body was armed though. Haze on her vision or not, she knew a gun when she saw it. Her chest rocked, and the sound could have been mistaken for a cough, but was in fact a dry chuckle. Simple farmers would have been too easy. Nope seemed she had ended up on the doorstep of someone armed and willing to use it.

Great just great. The way things were going the owner of the voice was likely a lawman.

Cassi feebly waved a bloody hand, "The name's Cassi." Even if she was inclined to move, with that gun on her, she wasn't going anywhere fast. "Don't worry, I'm too shot up to do anything, but lay here."

 

[Pix]

Skip immediately went to the woman after she fell from her horse. He was above all else, a hero, or at least that was what he told himself. He had nothing of worth with him, no medical kit, no liquor to dull any pain, not even a single blanket, but Skip went to her anyways.

It was dark when he saw her. The darkness prevented him from seeing anything a man would notice, but it wasn't too dark for him to see the blood and bruises. She was in a bad way, and Skip pretty much was using the minimum to survive, there definitely wasn't enough for two and a horse, but if worse came to worse, he'd stretch what he could.

Skip picked up the fallen rider and slung her over his shoulder. I'm gonna regret this, Skip thought to himself as he walked into the cabin with the woman over his shoulder. Once he had placed the woman on the bed and applied tourniquets to her wounds he walked outside once again. He saw the night sky and picked out as many constellations as he could see. He saw Apollo, Hercules, and Orion. He thought about all of the myths and legends that celebrated their heroic actions and hoped he would be identified in the stars one day. He touched his hammer while he dreamed.

Skip went back in to the cottage and sat in one of the abandoned chairs and rocked backwards. He leaned in the creaking chair and drifted off to sleep.

 

[AngelofDeath]

The first thing, Cassi noticed the next morning was that she was in a bed. The second was the pain. So she wasn't dead yet. Slowly she opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. The soft sound of breathing caught her attention and she turned her head. Last night hadn't been an illusion after all. Her savior looked about her age, but it was only a guess. A bit fresh in the face, but the stubborn set to his sleeping jaw told her that he wasn't one to be trifled with. Sitting up slowly and with a curse or three she looked around. If this was his home, he was just getting by. Everything looked old and worn. The small touches that always said it was a home and simply not someplace to stay were missing.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, made her cry out a little in pain. It wasn't until her boots hit the floor that the man sleeping in the chair started to wake up. He was handsome, in a rough around the edges sort of way, but there was still some smoothness left to him. "Morning. Mind tellin' me where the hell I am?" Cassi shrugged her coat off with gritted teeth. He didn't enough to stop her bleeding, but those bullets were going to have to come out.

 

[Pix]

Skip looked at the young woman, wounded and in pain. She was handling it like any man would have, with decades in the saddle to boot. Skip liked women, but he didn't trust them, and he didn't trust cowboys, so the woman he was looking at made Skip grip extra tight around his hammer handle. Worse she had ridden in the middle of the high plains with bullet wounds, that woman caused Skip to do more than just raise a suspicious eyebrow.

He was human after all, and he wasn't going to let her just die on the back of her horse, he was going to help her. And Skip couldn't help thinking that she may look halfway decent in another setting, and washed.

The man with the hammer set his feet on the floor and leaned forward in his chair, hand white knuckling the handle of his hammer. "I don't mind at all," he said coldly, "but I don't rightly know where we are. I know it's in the middle of nowhere, and I've been stranded here for about a week."

He stood up and towered over the woman laying on the bed. "I don't know what you were planning on doing," he told her as he looked at her wound, "but you better get those bullets out soon, or else you may just yet find yourself dead."

 

[AngelofDeath]

Cassi didn't fail to notice the way he gripped the hammer in his hand tighter. Something about her or the situation had gotten his dander up. When he came closer she tried not to stare at him. Handsome, but it was more from birth than working at it. His comment about not knowing exactly where they were made her sigh and shake her head.

"Great still in the middle of nowhere, with two bullet wounds. This could only get better if we in Indian Territory."

The mention about her wounds reminding Cassi of exactly why she was hear right now. "Well if you want to be of help you can go and get my saddle bag off my horse." While she didn't have much, Cassi could with some help deal with her wounds. "Hope you have a strong constitution because I am gonna need some help."

Sitting up slowly again she worked her coat off. The shirt underneath would have been half way appealing on her body, if not for the bloodstains. She wasn't about to mess with the makeshift bandages until they were set up to deal with what was underneath. Her horse had wandered off enough to find something to eat, but had returned to the almost rotted hitching post out front. Good think Cassi still had that bottle of whiskey on her. Without the proper tools those bullets were going to be a bitch to get out.

Just two more scars as a testament to her old life. And yes it was her old life. While some of the others she'd rode with had their faces plastered on wanted posters, she had been lucky. No Cassi had the ability to start fresh. Give herself a makeover and better life.

 

[Pix]

Skip marched out of the cabin to the outside. He saw the horse at the hitching post and went to grab the saddle bag. He pulled the bag off and turned to walk back into the cabin when he stopped. He turned back around and saw the lone, vacant horse. He thought that this could be his only chance to make it back to civilization. Then his conscience stopped his train of thought, he couldn't live with the fact he would probably leave that woman to die, but then he started to rationalize with himself. The woman in the cabin didn't get those bullets in her at Sunday mass, she had done something bad along the way to get shot and wander out in the wilderness.

He started to walk towards the horse once again, but stopped and walked back into the cabin with the saddle bag. His father had told him he was too nice for his own good, and he guessed his father was probably right, but then again his father had left him and his mother when he was just a boy, so what did he know.

Skip brought the bag over to the woman and said, "Name's Skip, typically I like to know someone's name before I help them perform surgery on themselves."

 

[AngelofDeath]

"Cassi, and typically I prefer to really know a man before I let him see me out of my clothing." She took the saddle bag from him, she'd seen his hesitation outside. It was good thing he hadn't seen the money that was tucked away otherwise he might just have left her to fend for herself. While Brady was a good horse, a rider was a rider.

Flipping it around she dug out the smaller of the two blades that were in there, the liquor. She didn't have any needle and thread on her, which meant what was left of the small fire was going to come in handy. Once that was done she took a healthy drag on the whiskey and winced a little. This wasn't the first time, but boy did she hate this. She stripped away the bandages and her shirt. The undershirt was worse than her shirt.

She used a clean portion of the old bandage soaked in the liquor to wipe the blade down and then handed it to Skip. "Think you can dig it out without killing me? When its out, heat the blade in the fire and then cauterize the wound with it." Cassi laid on her side with the undershirt pulled up. There were faint scars elsewhere showing how much more than just a pretty face she was.

Yeah she was trouble, Skip didn't know just how much though.

 

[Pix]

Skip grabbed the blade and pressed it to her wound. He dug inside the physical evidence of a plan gone awry and winced, and turned up his nose. Just because he had seen some rough things over the years, and done worse, it still didn't make such painful and disgusting things any easier to bear, at least for him. He was a rider, a wanderer, and had been known to use that hammer for more than just pounding out some steel, but deep down he thought he was a good person. He believed he was put on Earth to do good. Maybe helping out the woman from whom he was currently extracting lead was good, but she had gotten shot for a reason.

Skip pushed the thoughts out of his head to focus on the primitive surgery. He had dug the last bullet out and held the blade over the flame just as she had directed.

"Ready?" he asked and not a second later did he press the hot metal against the wound.

 

[AngelofDeath]

Cassi had pulled the collar of her duster into her mouth. The taste of leather and dust did nothing to distract her from the pain, but it did keep her from screaming as Skip dug around for the lead. A light sheen of sweat covered her body. Oh what she wouldn't give for a doctor and some medicine to put her out. The digging had made her sick to her stomach more than anything.

It was when he burned her flesh closed that a fist smacked the bed. Cassi fought to keep her body still. After that and two more shots of whiskey they repeated the process with the wound on her thigh. When they were finally done, Cassi laid there swearing softly before she managed to say, "Thank you Skip." Stubbornness kept her from passing out as she held the bottle out to him. The man looked like he could use a drink after that.

She slowly took around, Skip hadn't been kidding. There was barely anything in the homestead. Not even the hint of food which meant they were gonna have to find a town soon if they didn't want to starve to death. Digging into her bag she pulled out some jerky and handed it to him. "Don't quite feel like eating right now, but I can at least share some of what I have."

 

[Pix]

Skip had taken a long slow pull from the whiskey bottle. It had been his first drink of anything other than water in over a week. He was grateful for the stinging, it was a sensation he never thought he would feel again. The hotness worked like magic on his sinuses that had become overrun by dust.

He took a piece of the jerky and chewed it. It wasn't great, far too dry and mighty tough, but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

He nodded and gave the bag back to the patient and said, "Well, Cassi. I don't know what your plans were, but there's a river about fifty miles west of here. If someone were to come across that river and follow it, chances are that person would run into a town of some sorts."

Skip shuffled his feet along the floor causing an unwanted scratching noise. He had been a polite person for the most part and didn't want to come right out and ask, but he figured he had to, "I could have taken your horse, you know? So, I'm just asking if I could ride with you...at least to the river?"

 

[AngelofDeath]

"I know. I'm surprised you didn't actually. And I could probably use the company. At least another set of eyes to look out for trouble." She took another pull of Whiskey and then laid back down with a groan. Cassi was more surprised he hadn't asked how she got shot.

"So how did someone like you ended up out in the middle of nowhere? I mean you seem like an okay fellow so I was just curious. You can tell me its none of my business if you want. Everyone's allowed some privacy and some secrets."

Cassi was fighting to keep her eyes open, the mix of pain and alcohol making her just want to sleep a few more hours. Again that stubborn streak was refusing to give in. Knowing who she would be traveling and trusting not to ditch her was more important.

Once they found a town, her first mission was to get a hot bath and some food. After that clothes and from there she would just figure it out. Cassi had both time and money at her leisure to settle into a life.

 

[Pix]

When Cassi had asked Skip how he ended up where he had, he couldn't help but look over at the belt that carried his hammer. He had put it inconspicuously in a corner before he had assisted her with the bullet removal. Of course any belt holding a blacksmith's hammer put anywhere would be obvious. How could he have explained to her how he ended up where the cabin was, the story was too long. However, if he asked her the same question, she would probably just say she passed out from gunshot wounds on her horse and ambled her way to the cabin. She wouldn't expand on how she ended up getting shot, because probably to her that detail was irrelevant, but Skip didn't think like that. He was always mindful of the big picture and how everything fit together.

"I was riding through the high plains," Skip decided to compromise, "my horse came up lame and I ended up here."

Skip noticed her exhaustion and figured a little sleep before the ride would benefit her, and it would probably help him out a little bit as well.

"Maybe we should get some rest before heading out," he suggested. He consciously used we not to imply she was weak.

 

[AngelofDeath]

"That is probably the best idea I have heard in the last few days," Cassi groaned softly and got to her feet a bit unsteadily. "You can have the bed, I've got a horse to check on." Before he could argue she was up and out the door, albeit a bit more slowly than normal. Outside she managed to get the saddle off and drop it on the porch. She walked around making sure Luther was ok and then gave his nose a slow scratch. The stallion tossed his head a she smiled, "We'll be moving again soon boy, though with some company."

Coming back inside she let out a shaky breath, riding was only going to be mildly easier this time. If they were lucky they'd find a town quickly. Whiskey, water and jerky was only going to carry them so far.

 

[Pix]

Skip watched the woman who had just had bullets removed and her skin welded shut get up and walk out of the cabin. He knew she wasn't a damsel in distress, but rather a full fledged femme fatale. He gripped the handle to his hammer to try and comfort himself, but it just didn't seem to be working. He thought maybe the safest thing to do was let her ride off without him, because he had no idea what trouble he might run into with her, or what trouble was still tracking her. However, if he remained in the middle of nowhere, he was at best buzzard food.

Skip went back to the chair and propped his feet up. He gripped the hammer and picked up his hat that had been laying on the floor. He put it on his head and slid the brim over his eyes. He would try to sleep, but not much rest can be had when one eye stays peeled open.

 

[AngelofDeath]

Skip was back in the chair. Cassi shrugged and did the best she could not to drop herself onto the rickety bed. not bothering to kick her boots back off she pulled her duster over herself and sighed softly. A few blinks later she was fast asleep. The one good thing about passing out from pain is one tended not to dream. However the same couldn't be said for just plain out passing out with the help of some hooch. Cassi tossed and turned as she lay on the bed.

She was back at the bank, same as before. Only this time just as she came awake, Cassi had drawn on Jacob. Cassi was panting heavily, sweat running down her chest and her gun pointed at the wall.

 

[Pix]

Skip was a bit startled when he saw the stranger sleeping in the bed pop awake with her gun drawn. At first he immediately thought she meant to use it on him, but noticed she had it pointed at nothing but the wall. He had to stifle back a nervous chuckle. A woman popping awake with her gun ready to fire was a scary proposition but it was a bit funny to see it happen in front of your very own eyes.

The man with the hammer hanging off of his waist decided to play it cool. "Duel at high noon with the boogeyman?" he asked rather annoyingly, but he had to show the woman with the stink of lawbreaking all over her that he wasn't some pushover dandy who got lost in the wild.

Pale pink light started to form in the eastern sky. "Dawn is about to break," he noted, "you fit to ride?"

 

[AngelofDeath]

"Not really, but we don't have much choice now do we?" Cassi took her finger off the trigger and put her gun back in its holster. Sitting up she slipped her duster back on and grabbed her saddle bag. "Better grab whatever you think might be useful to us." Trudging outside Cassi got Luther ready. One false start later and she was in the saddle and waiting on Skip.

She wasn't joking about not having a choice. By the time Cassi was in better condition to ride, they'd be out of what little supplies they had. Skip didn't have to say it, but she knew he'd probably eaten his horse. And considering their remote location she didn't blame him. Going on foot would probably mean death. "Let's get moving Skip, we're wasting daylight here."

 

[Pix]

Skip only grabbed two things, the holster with his gun and the belt with his hammer. He nodded in agreement as he approached the horse. He jumped up onto the back of the horse and put his arms around Cassi, he made sure not to put any pressure on her wounds.

"Think this horse can take us both where we need to get to?" Skip asked, more than a little concerned that the horse might give out. If that happened, he was quite sure that God maybe didn't have a plan for him, and that He had it out for him.

 

[AngelofDeath]

"Luther has never let me down yet. If he was ever going to do it, it would have been before I met you. Best horse I ever st," she cleared her throat, "spent money on." Cassi gave the stallion a nudge and they headed off. It had been awhile for Luther, when it came to riding double, but the horse soon found his stride. By the time the sun was high in the sky they had managed to put the cabin well behind them.

"So is there a story behind that hammer or, you just carry it around for luck or something?" Skip didn't look like much of a blacksmith, so Cassi was just taking a wild guess at things.

 

[Pix]

Skip found it a bit odd the way she phrased how well of a horse Luther was, but he knew something was dangerous about her. If they had been in a town, there's no way he would have even looked at her more than once...maybe twice, after all, under the dirt and blood he was pretty sure Cassi the Cowgirl was a looker.

He gripped his hammer when she asked about it. He never really told anyone about it, because maybe they would want to steal it, but he figured he probably didn't have much longer to live.

"Yeah," he said, "it was my granddaddy's. He was a blacksmith for the army. This hammer forged General Grant's sword. Something pretty special, I reckon. That this hammer ultimately played a role in keeping this country together and freeing all the slaves. Something like that makes me think there is a certain destiny that goes along with this hammer."

He stopped and couldn't believe he had divulged his life's philosophy to this stranger. It felt weird, but he did feel a little unburdened. He felt a little less worried about dying out in the plains. He wasn't sure if that meant he was ready to face death, or confident he would beat it, but that was how he felt.

"Also," he spoke again, "saloon rats don't want to mess with a guy carrying a hammer."

 

[AngelofDeath]

Cassi chuckled softly, "Well you do have a point there. It'll at least make them think twice about messing with someone with such a soft face." She thought about his explanation. It was good as any, and she had to agree with him. "Keeping family close however you can is always a good thing, I suppose. Of course I've never been big on family and the same goes for them when it comes to me."

They were making good time, but they were going to have to stop at some point. Unfortunately shelter was sparse, which meant if they didn't find something good, the stars were going to be their blanket.

 

[Pix]

Skip had laughed when she made the crack about his soft face. Sure, he may look like a boy fresh out of the school house without the beard, but he definitely had marks on his body, and had left plenty on other men. He felt it was just friendly ribbing, nothing more, not a crack at him. He thought maybe she was flirting with him, but he didn't want to try anything funny with Cassi. Not only had she had four bullets in her yesterday, she was in control of the horse and probably could get Luther to buck just the right way to send Skip flying.

The horse was slowing down and the sun was getting low. A wooded area appeared on the horizon, taking shelter under trees was better than being exposed.

"I don't presume to know what you were thinking," Skip told his driver, "but Luther is getting tired, and those woods up there may be as good a place as any to hole up for the night."

 

[AngelofDeath]

"I was thinking that if we're lucky we'll hit the town soon, because there is only so much jerky I can stand at one time." They reached the collection of trees with just enough light left to make camp and collect some firewood. Luther found a patch of grass to munch on and Cassi let Skip have the saddle to sleep against and she took her saddle bag. She might have been wounded, but she wasn't crazy. If Skip found the money he might not be so unwilling to make off with her horse.

"I take it you don't know anything about the towns that might be near by?" Cassi tossed some of the jerky his way. The small fire they had managed crackled softly.