Girls Can Shoot Too

The thundering of hooves faded just as fast as they came. When the dust around me settles, I see it all. Or well really, I see the absence of it all. The small farm my husband and I had carved out for ourselves in the valley… was gone.

The call of the west. It was supposed to hold promise and hope, but we fell behind on payments due to a poor harvest. My now late husband Wyatt had borrowed money from a loanshark to pay the bank. That coupled with his growing gambling habits had led us here.

The flames heat the air as the small home we painstakingly built burns in the night. The cows, now loose, call to each other in the mountain trees around the fiery vortex. Even if the hands were here we’d have a hard time catching all of them and with nowhere to put them, there’s no point anyway. For a moment, hopelessness rises in my heart and tears start to sting my eyes.

But as I watch the flames grow higher and spread to the rest of our farmstead, I feel the fire also start to burn away at my soul. Memories and possibilities burn inside me as the flames of what my life once was light up the night.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A cold nose nudges my leg and startles me from the nightmare. I look down from the bed to see two soft brown eyes looking back up at me. Ah, good ol’ Bonnie. The only animal that remains from that previous life. She came back to me that day as the sun peered over the mountains. Her fluffy brown tail just a-waggin’. It seemed so out of place on such a somber morning at the time but now feels right. Because it wasn’t a death, it was a rebirth. Bonnie was there to greet the new me.

“Good mornin’ Bon. Stay out of trouble last night?” I ask as I get out of the covers and scratch behind her ears. She of course doesn’t answer. Before I even fully step out of my tent I’m greeted by the puffy red face of an angry Cook.

“What the hell Marge! How do you expect me to keep this whole lot fed without any damn food!” Never a quiet morning with this bunch that’s for sure.

“Good morning to you too Cook,” I snap pointedly at him as I make my way to the campfire for some strong coffee.

“Won’t be a good morning if I don’t have any food to cook!” he continues. For such a short man he sure does hold a lot of anger. Maybe because he’s closer to Hell.

“I heard ya the first time. You’ll get yer damn food,” I grumble as the coffee brews. Cook stares at me for a moment as if contemplating whether or not to push further. He seems to decide the matter is done and snorts before walking away. Which in Cook translates to ‘This better get done or there’ll be hell to pay’. I swear if he didn’t cook so good he’d be out of the camp with a large boot print on his butt. I’ll have to send Emily and Hank out hunting for some meat. But meat will have to wait until after coffee, it smells too good.

Just as I’m about to finish the cup I hear the tell tale Bonnie warning bark. Somebody’s here.

We don’t take kindly to strangers in our home. Something this intruder is about to learn, hopefully the hard way.. My hand naturally goes to the revolver on my hip as I head toward Bonnie’s barks.

A man on a small grey horse rides up our well hidden, or what I thought was well hidden, path to camp. I bristle at how nonchalant he appears, as though we aren’t about to rain hellfire upon him. I raise my revolver and hear a couple clicks just behind me. I know it’s Emily, Dorris, and even Cook, lining up to protect our camp. Bonnie runs back to me and spins to face the stranger, ears back and growling low. I swear she glares at the man also but that could just be me projecting.

Halfway up the path to our camp he stops his horse and swings off. Brave…or stupid. His hands immediately go up in the air in surrender before his boots even hit the ground. As if that would save him.

“No fight here lady! I just want some words with you!” he calls out. Doesn’t matter what he wants. He won’t be walking out of here. I pull the hammer back on my revolver.

“How did you find us?” I ask behind gritted teeth caging in my anger. I have to know before I send him to heaven.

He doesn’t answer my question. Instead he says only three words that make my whole world flip and spin.

“Wyatt is alive.”

That snake! Actually, I think he’s more of a rat. Only a rat could have been taken by the Losen Gang and survived. Because Lord knows he didn’t do heroics.

“Why would I care?” I snap but then quickly bite down on my tongue. Shit, that was the wrong question. Now he knows that Wyatt was..or I guess is.. a man I know.

The corner of his mouth twitches up. Dammit he caught that.

“Because you’re Daphne. His wife.” Ice freezes my veins and I glance back to see the crew staring at me quizzically. I could deny it, but the moment has passed.

“As far as I, Wyatt, or anyone else is concerned Daphne is dead. She died in that fire,” I snarl.

“Hey whoa now little lady,” the man brings his hands back up in defense, “I’m just the messenger. Wyatt wants to speak to you.”

“Where?” The ice thaws as my blood boils at ‘little lady’. I’m going to make him watch as he chokes on his insides.

“In Ruby City. Just up-” the gun recoils in my hand and the man falls to the ground as red blooms on his chest.

“I know where it is dammit.”

“Daphne?” Cook snorts. I spin and point my gun at his stupid nose. He blanches but tries to stay cool and stares at me with hard eyes, but I can see the fear flicker deep in them.

“I failed to ask our visitor how he found us before he found his way to the lord. Do you happen to know?” Cook had been quiet during the whole interaction and nothing is more suspicious than a quiet Cook.

“How should I know?” he spits.

“Marge. It’s Cook,” Emily places a gentle hand on my shoulder but I shake her off.

“He’s never stood with us to defend the camp before. Why now?” I sneer, pulling back the hammer. Cook’s eyes flicker to the dead body on the ground behind me and that’s all I need. The gun recoils and my ears ring as Cook’s body crumples before me. Anybody can put meat and vegetables in a pot and call it a stew.

“You and Joshua go scout for a new place for camp. I have to go to Ruby to finish what the Losen boys shoulda finished years ago,” I reload the two missing bullets. Emily nods and heads off to find Joshua. That’s why she’s my third in command lady, no questions.

“What the hell was that Marge?” Dorris crosses her arms. And that’s why she’s my second in command, she questions me.

“Too much to explain now I gotta go,” I grumble and head toward the stranger’s grey mare who has only moved to the edge of the path to munch on some grass. Hm, good horse.

“I’m comin’ with ya,” Dorris says and I just nod, even if I tell her off she’ll just show up anyway. I swing onto the grey mare who pays no mind and Dorris soon shows up behind me on her larger bay stallion.

“Years ago I was married to a man named Wyatt,” I start when the silence stretching between us becomes unbearable, “he had a gambling problem and we owed the bank too much money. Borrowed money from the Losen gang and then gambled away what little we had to pay them back. They took Wyatt with them and burned our farm down…there was nothing left but me and ol’ Bonnie..”

For a while neither of us say anything, our horse breathing heavily as we charge toward Ruby City. Dust billows behind their pounding hooves. We should get there by evening at this pace. The stranger said Wyatt wanted to speak to me. Why? How did he know I was still alive? Why did he care?

“Were you happy there?” Dorris finally asks. If it had been my legs moving us forward I would have fully stopped. Luckily the grey mare had no such qualms.

“Yes,” I say softly, but Dorris hears me. It was the truth. At the time it’s what I had always wanted. The culmination of Wyatt’s courting, wanting to get away from my not so wonderful father, and the promise of a new sunrise over the horizon..it had been the dream.

“Are you happy now?” Dorris breaks me from my reverie.

“Yes” I answer strongly, “Dreams and people change. This is my new dream,” I turn and give her a shit eating grin, she returns it and urges her stallion faster. The grey mare having none of that pushes harder and pins her ears back at him as we pass them.

Dorris and her stallion win the race but my little grey mare keeps the stallion at the end of his reins tied to the post as she threatens him with her ears pinned and frequent angry squeals. Doesn’t matter if he’s faster she’ll still kick his ass. I like her spirit.

“The visitor didn’t give us a meeting place but where do ya go if ya need to find somebody?” I look to Dorris as she pulls her shotgun off her retreating horse.

“The saloon,” she grins.

The double doors swing behind us as we stride in. I realize Wyatt is not here after a quick scan of the patrons’ faces. Of course this wouldn’t be easy.

“Margaret! Dorris! Haven’t seen your lovely faces ‘round here in a hot trot minute!” the barkeep, Billy, hollers at us. I grin but then scowl at him as we walk up.

“You should be thankin’ us for that Bill,” I rap my knuckles on the sticky wood counter and he plops two shots in front of me as he laughs.

“Some folks been askin’ about you,” he says simply.

“You know where they are?” I take one of the shots and push the other to Dorris.

“Room 3 upstairs,” he gestures toward the stairs.

“Don’t come lookin’,” I say and slide a couple coins for the shots across the bar.

“Wouldn't dream of it darlin’,” he takes the coins as Dorris throws back the shot.

We pause briefly outside door 3, just long enough to hear quiet murmurs behind it. I nod to Dorris before I turn the knob and slam the door open. The three men inside jump like startled cats at the loud noise. Dorris has her shotgun pointed at the man in the middle and I have my revolver to the left one’s head before the door swings back shut. I look at the man to the right and my blood boils instantly.

“Wyatt,” I hiss. He grins and I don’t recognize that cold look in his eyes.

“Daphne,” his voice rubs against my skin like velvet. I hate velvet.

“I don’t care how you’re alive. I don’t care what happened to you. I-”

“But you came to see me,” he cuts me off smoothly and moves to stand. I pull my revolver’s hammer back and press it into his lackey’s head.

“I wanted to kill you myself,” I say slowly and he remains seated. He chuckles and looks me over.

“You look good Daph,” he leans back and laces his fingers together behind his neck. I bristle, my finger itching to pull the trigger and just get this over with.

“What do you want Wyatt? And choose your words carefully, they might be your last,” I growl. He looks me over once more and then sighs.

“I want you back Daphne. I finally found you and I’m here to save you,” he reaches a hand toward me but Dorris snorts and he snaps his gaze to her.

“Something funny young lady?” he glowers at her.

“You must have shit in your eye with your head so far up your own ass if you think she needs any kind of saving from the likes of you,” Dorris grins down at the man at the end of her shotgun who looks like he may have already pissed himself.

“You better watch yourself girl or I’ll fill that smart mouth with six feet of dirt,” anger flashes in Wyatt’s eyes.

Jesus who is this man. Sure ain’t the Wyatt I started a farm and wanted to start a family with. The fire of our dream flickers in front of my eyes and it rises in my core.

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” I snarl, my voice rising, “you left me for dead! Not just when they took you and burned our farm down but when you borrowed money from a violent gang and then gambled away what we had left! Fuck what happens to your wife, huh? All just for a quick fix at a game you weren’t even good at!” I finish screeching but Wyatt is smiling. Rage fills me and my finger finds the trigger.

The left lackey falls. The one at the end of Dorris’ gun falls right after. I turn my gun to Wyatt but see that he has his own revolver pulled and pointed to Dorris' ribcage. Red fills my vision as a different kind of red pools around our boots.

“Those men have been with me since I was first captured,” his smile is gone but I couldn’t care less, all I see is the barrel pressed against my friend. “Now you are coming with me.. Nicely too. Or your friend here will be greeting my boys in the afterlife.” I pull the hammer back. Wyatt pushes his gun into Dorris’ ribs making her hiss in pain.

“Put the gun down and come with me. Be a good girl Daphne.”

Bang.

“My name is Margaret. Asshole,” I spit at his crumpled body.