A steampunk story I still don't have a name for

EMILIA

Emilia felt her newly shorn curls tenderly. They were lying on the floor of the old salon, glinting in the moonlight. They looked like blood against that brown floor, curling, like rivers, rivers of blood. She wouldn't be so upset if Jesse hadn't just told her they were pretty, but there wasn't much to do about it.

They were gone, and she didn't have time for self-pity. She was unharmed, and needed to leave before Raymond or Obadiah guessed at her hidden identity and told the sheriff. The salon was completely empty, but Emilia was still on edge.

This had been one of her more dangerous fiascos, seeing as she stayed in town after the robbery was committed. Sunbay Finical was less than happy to discover forty thousand bullets were missing from their richest customer(Forty thousand bullets were worth about six thousand dollars).

She heard footsteps and jumped to her feet. Who could be out in the middle of the night like this? She ducked behind a counter just in time.

"Hullo?" Obadiah's soft southern slur broke across the silence of the night. "Somebody he'? Not allow' at-" There was a pause as he checked the clock. "Thre' in da mornin'."

Emilia stayed behind the counter. Within another five minutes, Obadiah gave up and left. Emilia didn't move for another ten.

Finally, when she was sure it was clear, she slipped past the counter, and out into the night.

------#-----

Emilia knew she was in trouble when she heard hoofbeats. Obadiah and his men.

"Kaard and blast." She whispered to herself. Hiding places. She couldn't outrun horses. Up that tree? In the river? A baying howl pierced the night.

Great, She thought. They have dogs. The river was the best option. Besides, she hadn't been named a dangerous thief for nothing. She slipped into the river, submerging herself in it's icy waters. The breath was ripped from her lungs, but she could hold for about five minutes. She could hear the horses stopping, the dogs sniffing around. How long had it been? Two minutes? Three? Her lungs were bursting. She should have gone with the tree. But then the thunder of the horses started again, and Emilia flung herself on the bank. Bank, Emilia thought. That was funny. All her life she had depended on money banks. Now her life depended on a river bank. Given everything she probably would stay here all night, camp at the hollering tree. It was only a third of a kilometer down the road.

"Hello?"

Emilia froze.

"Anybody here? Thought I hear supthin' up de river 'ere. ." It was a young man. He could have been anywhere around thirty to fifteen. He had a gun, and that worried Emilia.

Unfortunately he spotted her, lying on the river bank.

"Yessh." He muttered. "Think sh’s dead." He walk towards her. She couldn't pretend to play dead, he could feel her pulse. She could play unconscious, but what if he recognized her and reported to Obadiah or Raymond? She groaned loudly.

"Hey!" The guy shouted. "You're alive. Are you okay?" She lifted herself off the ground.

"I'm- I'm okay, I guess." She answered weakly. He hurried down the bank towards her.

"What happened?"

"I slipped into the river."

"What's your name?" Emilia paused for a second. She spat out the first thing that came to mind. “Em-Enora.”

“Pretty name.”

"Oh. Okay." Her brain was too sluggish to really comprehend what he was saying. She was still getting over her dip in the river.

"Where you from?" He asked. Emilia blinked water out of her eyes.

"Plustead." She answered without hesitation. That was true, not that she minded lying, but it was easier to have somewhere you knew so you could give evidence. Plustead was her original home.

"River carried you all the way from down there?"

"Among other things, yes." She was too tired to lie anymore.

"Well, you better come home with me. I'll get you dinner, and we can talk more how you got dunked in the river."

"You really don't have to do that." Emilia said, but she was really too tired to argue.

"Well, if you thought I was going to leave you down here, you were mistaken, Ma’am.” He offered her his arm, but she used the trunk of a tree to yank herself upwards. Pain shot up her legs. She had hit something hard in the water. She hoped she hadn't broken anything. Using Emmett's arm was inevitable, and she limped home with him.

Luckily, he had a horse. Dinner was a grand affair, more food than Emilia had had in weeks. Juicy pickles, tea and toast, cucumber sandwiches, boiled eggs, rye bread, soldiers, sticky lasagna, thick chicken wraps, and ginger snaps. She didn't want to seem rude, but she was unable to help herself, so she wolfed down whatever was placed in front of her with the ferocity of a wild animal.

Emmett watched her uncomfortably. His lame attempt at making small talk was cut off by her full mouth. She was lying on the floor while he set her leg(It had been sprained after all.), by the time he finally managed to get a question in.

"So, what do you do for a livin'?"

“Servant to one of ‘em rich little brats. I fell in the river a week ago, been traveling down it ever since then. No food, but plenty of water. I mean, I fell in a river, for goodness sakes. That was one good thing about it." He laughed at this. "I just got on the bank when you found me.Thank you, by the way." The lie came to her easily, just as they always did. She never felt any remorse about it.

"No problem." He said. "Been a while since I've seen a kid with hair as red as yours anyway. My pleasure to accommodate you. The minister'll be here tomorrow, then, jest so you know." Emilia's heart stopped.

"The minister from where?" She asked.

"Sunbay." Emilia tried not to show her fear. Surely the minister would recognize her. She would have to leave early the next morning. Shame, she would have to take one of his horses. She made to rise, and stifled a scream of pain. What was she thinking? She couldn't take a horse, she would kill her leg. Oh well, she would have to tough it.

"What's wrong?" He asked her. She started, sending new jolts of pain up her leg.

"Nothing." She said, wincing. "Just... my leg. And I don't like ministers." He laughed out loud.

"Why ever not?"

"They're just....." She struggled to think of an answer. "They're creepy." He laughed again.

"Do you mind sleeping here? I'll bring you a blanket and I'll leave the door open."

"No. Not at all."

"Great. Be right back." He came back with a small ragged blanket. "Sorry, it was all I could find."

"No problem." Emilia lead her back against the wall, her leg throbbing. He left the room. She counted to ten. When he didn't come back, she rose from the floor and hobbled out the door. Tears leaked from her eyes. The pain in her leg was worsening, but she needed to get a move on. She stopped halfway out the door when an idea came to her. She ran/hobbled back into the kitchen, pain shooting up her leg as she went. She grabbed a hunters bag from the hook on the door. It was dark leather, warm under her chafed fingertips. She limped into the kitchen, searching for easily sustainable food. In went a can of pickled radishes, nine ginger snaps, five boiled eggs, a loaf of rye bread, and two cucumber sandwiches. She slipped a thin wineskin in the bag and was finished. She limped out the door, cursing stupid Obadiah and his idiotic men. She swore up and down she would never like horses again. She chucked the bag over her back, and was gone.