A Lethal Lady
Chapter 27

Wyatt merely glanced at Tom, and without a word, the man rose to his feet, and was watched with curiosity by the sheriff.

-I have come here, just to inform you, that there is going to be a fair in town tonight. A commemoration I've decided to give to the people of Coloma, so they can see that I'm not such a bad mayor," Wyatt smiles. -Do you think people want a party? Mr. Butter, that's not what we need.

-Well, if they don't want it, I still know a lot of them are going to come, Mr. Wesley.

Tom lets out his breath and leans back in his chair. He looks deadly at the mayor and then denies, these people thought that by throwing a party they would win the people over. He knew his people, they wouldn't be impressed by such nonsense. But since he was the mayor, he could do no more than oversee that everything began and ended well. As if he didn't have important matters to attend to, he now had to see to it.

-I hope this fair won't cause any problems with the visitors, you know how I feel about that," Tom stands up. And since I see we have nothing else to discuss, I'll ask you to leave and go about your business.

-Of course! -Wyatt picks up his gloves. You look like a busy sheriff, I'll leave you to your business, Mr. Wesley," The mayor nods with his hat and that mischievous grin on his face.

Tom didn't like the man, he couldn't be trusted. And it didn't go unnoticed that he ignored him completely when he mentioned the bump on his nose. It was very strange that for the mayor to receive a blow like that, he had not notified him. And now he'd come up with a party in town?

-What is he up to?

[...]

Wagon after wagon arrived in the town loaded with provisions for the fair that was to begin at nightfall. Coloma was quite hectic, its inhabitants doing their best to make the celebration go well.

Tom listened to the bustle from the police station, and thought that many would benefit from the party. At least the hotel would be full, and James's bar would be packed. Well, not only them, many others would have a lot of work and good profits that day. However, the sheriff wasn't confident about the hype... but he would keep a close eye on it.

[...]

As night fell, Rouse ended up doing chores inside the house. On Joy's orders, she could not leave the ranch, since the morning clerks might recognise her and report to the sheriff in the evening. But once the sun went down, there was no longer any danger. Having finished organising the kitchen, the blonde was about to take a bath and go to bed, when the old man burst in out of nowhere.

-You seem to know what to do in a kitchen, it's been a long time since I've seen it so organised.

-It's not as difficult as I thought it would be.

-Didn't your mother ever teach you how to be a lady of the house?

-Do you need anything else? -The blonde changes the subject, and the old man notices.

-My employees are long gone. Apparently, there's a party in Coloma. From what I hear, Mayor Butter has organised it for the town.

Rouse stops what he's doing as he looks out the window, from where he could see the vast land of Joy despite the darkness.

-In that case, I retire to my room.

-I'll check my land before I go to sleep, have a good rest miss.

She muses, her inner voice... she was anything but ladylike. That Joy was being very nice to her, while she, makes him believe one thing she was not. Rouse swallows as she watches the old man walk by with a lantern in one hand and a shotgun in the other. After a few hours, Rouse was refreshed and more rested. She was ready to crawl into bed and sleep soundly, without a doubt, it was the best two days she had ever had in her life.

Just as she was about to sink under the covers, the blonde heard the sound of Joy's shotgun going off. Immediately, she runs to the window and sees absolutely nothing. -Hell, with this old man!

[...]

Like every night, Joy supervised her land for a couple of hours before going to sleep. And all was quite quiet, until she heard the neighing of a horse. She heard it quite a distance from her ranch, but she heard it. And it wasn't one of his horses, they were all guarded. Someone had trespassed on his land, and that meant only one thing. They intended to steal his cattle, but the old man wasn't about to let that happen one more time. And since he couldn't send the lady to town for t he sheriff, he would have to take care of the problem himself.

As best he could, he ran across the rocky ground to where his cattle were... as he reached the wooden gate where they were penned, he switched off the lantern, and immediately detected a suspicious movement in the darkness.

Four horsemen, with their horses, were herding their cows towards the gate. They were about to lead their animals out. Joy was furious, at last, he had caught them committing the crime.

Quickly, he loaded the gun, and the sound of it alerted the bandits. Joy wasted no time and started firing in their direction, but they fired at him as well.

And justly, one of the bandits' bullets grazed the old man's arm. His shotgun fell to the ground, while he covered his bloody arm. Then, looking up, he noticed that the outlaws were riding towards him with their revolvers in hand. Just when he thought it was all over, someone appears at his side, picking up the shotgun from the ground and loading it in seconds.

-These sons of bitches.

Rouse pointed the gun in the direction of the outlaws and began to fire with deadly accuracy, first shooting one to the ground, then another, by the time he fired again, the shotgun was out of ammunition. He looked to his side, noticing that the old man had a revolver strapped to his waist, quickly drew the pistol, and began to dispel the other two subjects who had turned to run away.

The blonde pointed the pistol at them, she didn't intend to let them get away... she fired; and one of them fell to the ground, at that she smiles; sharpening her gaze a little, in view of how far away the bandit was. Rouse fired again, but this time the man ducked. However, she managed to wound him in the arm.

She lowered the revolver as she saw that he was too far away, and too dark to hit. She let out her breath as she felt frustrated at not being able to finish the bastard off.

-Rouse? -She hears the old man and turns around.

-He's hurt bad, we need to get him back to the ranch.

-How did he do that? -The man looks at the dead on his grounds.

-At least he has three extra horses, he can't complain.

The old man looks at her in amazement, while wondering how a lady like her could shoot so accurately.

-She's missed one.

-I'm sure he'll die, or the wolves will eat him. It's time to go back, I need to check that wound.

[...]

Rouse extracted the bullet from the old man's arm, even though he was an old man, he was pretty tough. He lost a lot of blood, but even so, he was still very much awake. -He was lucky.

-Those bandits were planning to steal my cattle.

-You can't do much, you're not as young as you used to be.

-But you are..." Joy looked at Rouse and she at him.

-I don't know what you're talking about. That was all luck.

-You're good with a gun, much better than a man. Your aim is excellent, even when it's night. Who taught you to shoot like that? Your father? You must be aware that you're not a very ordinary lady.

-He says so because I'm not refined, because I'm haughty, and I'm a fugitive from justice," he smiles as he bandages the old man's arm.

-I say that because of the way you shoot.

She stops the bandage, and stares at his arm for a while... then she picks at the cloth and finishes.

-We've finished, you must rest.

-You haven't led a good life, have you?

-It doesn't matter now...

-Where's your mother?

-Where is the owner of these clothes?

The old man looks at the dress Rouse was wearing that night, looks down and stands there for a moment. It was obvious that she wasn't going to tell him anything about her life if he didn't do the same. But he hadn't spoken to anyone about his daughter in a long time, and her asking him about her opened up old wounds.

-It was my daughter's.

Rouse glanced sideways at Joy, suspecting that those dresses belonged to a young woman. At first he thought it belonged to a granddaughter, but he never imagined it belonged to a daughter. Perhaps, it was a story she shouldn't hear.