Young Writers Society

I never really written a western type story. This chapter pretty much describes the main character and holds explanations for the rest of my story. Let me know how it is!

Chapter 1

He was the best sharpshooter in the country, yet no one knew who he was. Every boy had hopes of shooting just like he, being just as sneaky, just as strong and agile, just as cool. Every girl dreamed of meeting him, of being swept off her feet by the one and only, falling in love with the bravest man of all times. Yet, no one knew who he was.

He was called the King. No one knew where the name came from, how it was thought up, why it was given to him, but it was appropriate, so it stuck. He was the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the Sheriff of sheriffs, the Bravest of the brave.

I dreamt of the King, dreamt of having such skills as he. The legends always intrigued me, how he was so skilled. I always wondered if the King was real, however. I have heard how he saved countless people, how he showed up to shoot the bad guy then run away to hide himself once again; yes, I wondered if he really existed.

My father was the sheriff of our small town of Ranger, looked upon with such respect from its people. Sheriff Beauregard Locksley was, sure enough, the best around these parts. No one expected the legendary King to show up at this small town, a town with a population of fifty-four. He had better cities to save. Besides, my father was skillful enough to defend the little people here.

His deputy, Deputy Luke Woods, was a funny man. I always enjoyed being with him when visiting my father’s office. He was a tall man with brown hair hidden under his black cowboy hat with a golden cord wrapped around on top. He wore round glasses on his nose and his uniform was of black from waist down and a blue shirt on top. He wore a badge on his shirt, though not as splendid on my father’s.

Luke Woods enjoyed his job as deputy of my father. He greeted everyone in Ranger with a hearty hello, a tip of the hat, and a funny, yet friendly, smile on his face. He was loved by everyone of the town, considered a friend by every resident. I noticed this when I was ten years of age.

My father did not receive such welcome. When he walked down the road and someone greeted him, he would only grunt and move on. When there was a fight in the bar, he would only shoot his gun to the ceiling and let the men leave, claiming it to be a misunderstanding. When a lady was in trouble, he would only pull the man away and shove him down the road, saying ‘better luck next time, lover boy.’ Yet he wore the badge of a sheriff and, therefore, no one could do anything about him.

The mayor of our city, Ms. Abigail Clark, never paid much mind to this. To tell the honest to God truth, I didn’t think she cared. The only thing she cared about, I noticed, was her money and my father. She was a beautiful woman with shiny brown hair and wore the most stylish of clothes, heels everyday, red lipstick on her lips to match her pink blush. It sickened me.

My father, however, fell for her every whim. My mother died at childbirth, so he was a widowed man, a bachelor once again. I didn’t want him to remarry, however. Every woman I saw was a friend, nothing more. I could never give her a hug good-bye when moving out, could never take orders from her when doing chores. If any one, Ms. Clark would be the last of them to marry.

She was young, as young as twenty, while my father was thirty-three. I was thirteen when I noticed something between the two. I started staying away from my father, sticking to Deputy Luke until I felt ready to confront my father about her. I knew a pretty lady like her could not be good news, especially for my father.

I had a close friend while growing up, besides Deputy Luke. Booker Davis was my friend throughout the years. He was a black man, tall and burly, strong for those of his age. I was white, tall, but not as tall as he, dark hair, and agile. I was fast and tricky, for my hero was the King.

Book and I would always ride out on horseback, playing cowboys. We always pretended one was the thief, the other the sheriff. I was usually the sheriff for I knew how they worked, how they caught the bad guys. Book was always the thief, for anyone could commit a crime. The only difference is how it’s committed, and Book was very creative.

One day as we sat in the saloon, drinking with Deputy Luke on his break, the conversation went to the King. How excited I was to talk of him! Deputy Luke had another legend to tell us and I was all for it, full attention drawn to him.

“Well, Boston Shoemaker, a boun’y hunter of sorts, was ridin’ his horse down the dusty road,” Deputy Luke said though his southern accent. “He was chasin’, chasin’ after his target, a thief who stole from the Centra’ Bank of the city of Shamrock, the Big City, right? Anyway, Shoemaker was gainin’ on ‘im, followin’ ‘im off the road and into the surroundin’ trees. That was when he was trapped! He was suddenly surrounded by three guys, two of them appearin’ out of no where.”

Book and I sat on the edge of our seats as he told the tale, awaiting the next scene to be told. “Well, Shoemaker could easily take on two, but the thief held a gun in ‘is hand, pointin’ at Shoemaker. He was trapped, had no where to go, until the thief looked away at the sound of rustlin’ leaves among the trees near and above.

“Shoemaker took ‘is chance. He fought the two men, knocked ‘em to the ground with punches and kicks ‘til they were bruised ‘n’ unconscious. He turned to the thief, but he raised his gun again, threatenin’ to shoot. They stood there for a long time, then the thief started backing away to make ‘is escape. Shoemaker was just thinkin’ up a plan to catch ‘im again when there was a gunshot and the thief landed, face firs’, into the ground. He didn’ move at all.

“Shoemaker looked up ta see who shot the bulle’, but all he saw was a black shadow fleeing from the scene. Shoemaker looked at the thief. He wasn’ dead, but was severely wounded and could be saved by the doctors. An’ that, my friends, is yet another save by the King, another guy shot, ye’ not dead, a man named Boston Shoemaker who became five hundred dollars richer.”

I asked him questions about the King’s shot. How far away was he? How close to the heart was it? Was it an accident to not kill him or did he want him to live? This last question I knew the answer to. He wanted the thief to live. I supposed he did not like killing people, did not believe in murder.

When I was sixteen, my father sent me to college, a university in which he expected me to learn about the law and such, to become a good citizen and sheriff if I wished to take his place in Ranger.

I was off to a most rocky start. I could hardly read, yet here I was, expected to know words such as ‘constitution’ and ‘permitted’ and ‘discipline’. I knew ‘law’ and ‘allowed’ and ‘get in trouble’. I was given a tutor, a female to my most unfortunate self. She stuck to me like glue as she taught me these higher level vocabulary words and more words I knew were not allowed to be spoken, though never heard of.

I was at the college for six years because of my lack of knowledge, but I passed at age twenty-three, the tutor left after two dreadfully long years. I left as soon as I could for Ranger, excited to see the familiar and friendly faces of the town.

My father was forty-three, still a healthy, working sheriff of Ranger. He was pleased to see me in my brown suit and blue shirt, dressed up as if a I were a lawyer. I most wanted to see Book and Deputy Luke, but my father instead pulled me into his office. This was fine, I thought, then I could see my friends afterward. However, there was one other in the office, and I wished I could disappear on the spot for my face flushed hot red.

Abigail Clark sat on my father’s desk, legs crossed, sitting most attractively on my father’s papers and desktop. She smiled at me, white teeth gleaming against her tan skin. I nodded with respect, but did not smile or give any show of likeness.

“My, my, so this is your famous Bradley Locksley?” she said smoothly. She slid off of the desk and walked up to me. If my math was correct, which I knew it was, she was thirty years old, seven years older than I. This gave me an excuse to feel uncomfortable around her as I did my tutor six years ago. Her baby blue eyes bore into mine as if she were reading my mind, yet giving me such an affectionate look, I wished I could run away and seek sanctuary in the beat-up chapel down the road.

“Yes, my son was sent to college, if you recall, ma’am,” my father said, standing proudly behind his desk, chin up. “I received letters indicating he excelled in his studies remarkably after a couple years of tutoring to catch up with the rest.”

“Yes, tutoring,” she said with slight distaste. She turned and walked back by the desk. She leaned over the desk, muttering to my father whose eyes were not looking into hers, but elsewhere. I flushed of embarrassment and was about to sneak out when Ms. Clark turned around again. To my horror and fright, I saw my father leave from behind his desk and out the door without a glance at me, but a somewhat jealous look on his face. The door slammed shut and I was left alone with Ms. Clark.

“Ms. Clark,” I said respectfully, “where is my father going?”

“Oh, don’t call me Ms. Clark,” she said, walking up to me, taking a breath that seemed to have enlarged her chest. “If you are to be the new deputy of Ranger, you ought to call me by my real name, Abigail.”

“New deputy?” I repeated with shock and backed away uncomfortably. “Ms. Clark, I’m only fresh out of college! Shouldn’t I take a smaller job than that?” I really did not want to replace Deputy Luke for he was an amazing deputy already and I would only make a mess of things.

“Deputy Luke is a disappointment,” she said coolly, turning away from my with disappointment herself at my cowardly actions. “He does not exceed your father’s exceptions and, therefore, is a waste of a deputy. You, however, being your father’s son, will prove a great addition to our police force.”

I glared at her. “I will not replace Deputy Luke,” I said coolly, courage building up inside of me. “However,” I said quickly, seeing Ms. Clark’s eyes roll, “I will accept the roll of helping my father.”

“You mean a sidekick?” she said with, yet again, distaste.

“Ms. Clark, I will not replace Deputy Luke,” I said firmly. “If you want my help, I will like to help, but I will not become an officer until I have earned the position.”

She considered my offer and I watched her carefully, my brow furrowed. Soon enough, she walked up to me so we were almost nose to nose, I taller than her now after these long years apart. She said softly, and sweetly, “Then call me Abigail.” She kissed her fingers then put her fingers to my lips and left the office with snotty grace and beauty. I was left frozen to the spot, rethinking what I just done.

It's great!

Okay, I'm not much on the detailed crits, mainly because I don't know the stuff, but,

His deputy, Deputy Luke Woods,

The repitition of deputy is bad. My suggestions would be:

His assistant, ------ or ------ His deputy, Luke Woods

Or another way, however you do it, deputy twice needs to be fixed. It kind of stops the flow of the story.

I kind of wondered, I have done no research on this, so I might be wrong, but a woman mayor? It's believeable for me, I just don't know if they had them back then.

And I'm just being picky here, do they have lipstick back then? This doesn't need to be changed if you don't want to, again I just don't remember if they had stuff like that.

As for your characters, great! I already have a deep distaste for Ms snotty Clark You are good at your characters personality. And believe me, that is a critical thing to a good story.

GREAT WORK! I'm really looking forward to the next section. No hurry though, I'm patient, and if you don't want to write any more, that's fine with me.
Hope this was helpful!

Deputy is actually the assistant. He is really a deputy sheriff. Well, if any people want to keep reading, then here's chapter 2. hope ya'll like!

Chapter 2

My father instructed me in the basics of being an officer. Countless times I reminded him I was no officer, but he did not seem to hear me. He taught me every law Abigail set and he enforced. He then showed me the wanted posters, the men they were to find and arrest. However, he did not make this much of a primary lesson. He seemed to have glossed over it, waving it away as if it was a waste of time. However, I went to college.

I recognized Abigail’s business air, how she was one who made the deals and always had her way. I recognized how she used her attractive looks to gain what she wanted, and I realized how my father was one of many who has fallen victim to her calls. I tried all I could to tell my father of her bad influences, how she should be replaced, but he ignored all my warnings and pleas.

At lunch break, I saw with Deputy Luke who was pleased to hear how I would be working side-by-side with him. He was thirty-seven or so, I could not remember. I kept telling him I wore no badge because I was not an officer, but he called me his buddy anyway. We were friends on the same job, enforcing the same laws, saving the same people, getting the same pay. I only smiled, for this was Deputy Luke that was talking to me, making a hilarious show of himself in the saloon.

Book was pleased to see that I had a job with my father and Deputy Luke, yet I could tell, on the inside, he was jealous. He worked at the saloon, offering free drinks to Deputy Luke and I, his two friends. I tried to not bring up my job, but either Deputy Luke had a tale to tell, or there was a fight in the bar I had to break up.

After lunch one day, I walked back to the office alone. Deputy Luke was down the road, enforcing the law, greeting everyone with a tip of his hat as usual. I did not want to walk down the roads again. As fun as that sounds, I wanted most to sit inside away from the sun.

I got a drink of cold water and walked down the hall, past the prison cells, and into my father’s office where it was quiet and no one sat in. I sat here, seeking a peaceful place to rest and think over my thoughts when I noticed the wanted posters on the wall.

“And these are the men we’re supposed to catch according to state law,” my father had said dully when teaching me the lessons of an officer. That was my lesson on the wanted posters and we moved on. I, however, noticed that there was a picture of a young girl about the age of ten. That was no boy, I thought to myself.

It was an innocent young girl, put up next to a young man about my age with the same last name: King. It was made a careful note that the man was a farmer and had no experience with a gun and, therefore, could not be the King. It was just a last name.

I jumped at the sound of the door opening. My father strolled in and stopped when he saw me looking at the wanted posters. He finally shrugged and went to his desk, searching the drawers. I returned my attention to the pair then blurted, “What could a farmer and his daughter do to become such a threat?”

My father looked up at me then to the posters hanging on the wall. He stood up, squinting at the pictures and the writing beneath their profiles. He then seemed to recognize the crooks. “Ah, the Kings. Yes, they are accused of murder of the mother and sister.”

“A ten year old?” I said in shock as I stared at the innocent expression.

“It’s an old picture,” he said. “I suspect she was about fifteen when the crime was committed. After that, they are suspect to past murders to which we have not found the real murderer.”

I couldn’t believe what my father was saying. I was afraid to admit it, but any officer would look into a case committed by a young child, a young girl. From that day on, I kept my eye on my father, listened to every tone and word he used and said, watched every action he committed. He was not enforcing the laws of the county and state, he was enforcing the laws of his choosing.

I figured, since I had so much time on my hands anyway, I would look into this case. I took out the file in my father’s filing cabinet and searched the manila folder. My father was busy in Abigail’s office that night, so I was free for a few hours.

The child’s name was Alana-Dawn King, daughter of Robert and Allison King. At this very moment, I knew my father lied to me, lied to the county, to the state. In his own handwriting, he crossed out plenty of information and wrote in his own, saying they were farmers who killed Allison King and the second daughter, Loretta-Jane King. They disappeared after the act, fleeing from the police and their destiny in the prison cells.

I tried to make out the writing under my father’s pen scratches, but it was impossible. They were completely hidden beneath the heavy marks. However, I did answer some questions. I saw her birthday and figured out she was only seven years younger than I. Right now, she would be fifteen years of age. Oh, how I angry I was at my father! I did not remember any shooting this year!

I looked at Robert King’s file next, laying it next to Alana King’s opened file. I found plenty more chicken scratches, the same lies and more. My father claimed him a crook all his life, how he stole from the stores, fled from the law, and much more. I was just too tired of all these lies.

However, I was able to read some things under the pen scratches of my father. I gasped at much of the information, piecing the puzzle pieces together. Robert King was known for being a good shot at the gun and bow ‘n’ arrow, being an excellent bounty hunter. His name was known throughout the west, but died after the rumor he killed his wife. He lived a life in secret, doing all he can to help, yet keeping himself hidden from the law.

The King.

My heart raced. This was the famous King of the West, King of kings, Lord of lords, Sheriff of sheriffs, Bravest of the brave. How I longed to meet him! I dreamed of meeting him, being taught all his tricks, and becoming the next King.

I heard the front door open and I hurried to close the files and put them in the cabinet. I stopped when I heard more than one voice and the footsteps stop. I stopped after putting the files away and listened, but I wished I hadn’t.

It was my father and Abigail in the empty building, except me of course. I heard them giggle and talk quietly between themselves. I sneaked to the door and peered through the lock. There they were on Deputy Luke’s desk, saying their ‘good-byes’. Oh, how Abigail tricked my father!

There they stood, holding each other, grasping at whatever they could and kissing hard and passionately. It was most disturbing and I wanted to leave. I noticed, however, that Abigail withdrew for a moment and started muttering words that I could hardly hear over my beating heart.

“You worry about your duties, I will keep an eye on young Bradley,” she said as my father continued to kiss whatever was vulnerable. She giggled at his sweetness and I was forced to withdraw before anything else happened.

I snuck out the back window quickly and quietly, then ran away to our home as fast as I could, wishing I was never there in the first place.

The next day, my father left for the office while I went to the saloon, hoping to see cheerful Deputy Luke and my childhood friend, Book. I wished I had never been there last night, never have snuck into my father’s files. Book noticed I was pale and asked me what was wrong. I did not reply, though, distracted by my thoughts.

“Bradley!” he exclaimed, slamming the bar next to me. I jumped at the slam and stared at him. “What’s gotten into you?” he demanded.

I sighed. “Sorry,” I muttered, leaning my head on my hand. “It was last night—”

“Bradley Locksley! I thought I’d find you here.”

I groaned and looked pleadingly at Book who stared at the door with wide eyes. At that look, I knew my worst fear came true. Abigail was here to take me away from my friends, take me to her office.

I felt her thin hand on my shoulder and I looked up at the Mayor of Ranger who smiled sweetly back at me, the same smile she gave my father. No longer was I filled with fear, but with anger. I wished I could just punch her then and there and be done with her! However, I turned fully around and tipped my hat with respect. “Howdy, ma’am,” I greeted my usual.

“Come, Master Locksley,” she said, taking my hand gently and caressing it. “We have much to discuss.”

I felt myself heat up, but I did not let that show in my face. I trained myself to hide my true feelings after college and taking this job, facing Abigail everyday. I returned a playful smile and said, “Then let’s discuss.”

I shot Book a warning glance, but he was too distracted with the pretty mayor in his ugly bar. Abigail led me away from my friend and out the doors, across the street to her clean office filled with expensive furniture of modern rich style. She closed the door and locked it behind me. I pretended to ignore her and looked about the office, impressed.

“You certainly have a sense of style, ma’am,” I said, walking about the room.

I heard her chuckle smoothly, felt her smile behind me. “I do what I can to make myself…comfortable,” she said, her voice getting nearer to me.

I turned around and she stopped in front of me, staring up at me with those baby blue eyes. “You had something you wish to discuss?” I asked softly, matching her tone. I finally decided this was my chance to get answers. I was never invited in her office, especially after a night she spent with my father.

“Yes, it’s about your progress,” she said, walking to her desk. She shifted through papers, seating herself in her high-backed chair. She looked up at me steadily. “I’m paying you some good money, yet I see hardly anything worth my money that you did.”

I stiffened at her comment. “May I remind you that I am not an officer? If I were, then I would be wearing the badge and hat, yet here I stand in my boots ‘n’ spurs. I enforce the simplest of laws while Deputy Luke and my father enforce the most serious of them. It is up to you as to how much I’m paid.”

She seemed to have tensed under my words, unprepared for an answer such as this. I understood. I was always the little boy who looked up to his father, thinking it as a game. Now, however, I knew what I was dealing with. I knew who Abigail was and I prepared myself for any moment I might face her, such as now.

“Master Locksley,” she said finally, folding her hands on the desk, “your father has informed me that someone has been searching his filing cabinets. He also informed me that only one other person received the lock to his private files, files Deputy Woods is restricted from. That one person is you. Therefore, you are committed of searching through his files. Unless you give me a good explanation, you will be under arrest, and I will see to it that your father arrests you,” she added, her eyes piercing.

I straightened, taking a breath, stalling for an answer. “I was doing your money’s worth,” I said and Abigail shifted uneasily. I smiled to myself for my victorious battles with her today. It pleased me to see her uncomfortable for a change, and my father was not here to defend her. When she did not reply, I finally asked, “Where is my father?”

“Doing his duty,” she said simply and coolly, looking away from me and to the papers scattered on her desk.

“You are the only person who knows what my father is ever up to, so I’ll ask you,” I said, walking up to her desk casually, her eyes still avoiding me. “Where is my father?”

She looked up at me, her jaw clenched. She seemed to be really annoyed with me at the moment and I was pleased. It was about time she felt about me as I felt about her. She seemed to be thinking how to answer then said, “He has been following my orders.” She stood up slowly, her eyes not moving from me now. She walked around her desk and up to me. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that your father doesn’t need you anymore,” she said with a smile.

I glared at her. I did not want to talk about him, but his mission. I knew he was up to something, otherwise I wouldn’t be locked in Abigail’s office. She smiled at my clear anger towards her.

“He has me now, Bradley Locksley,” she said with a victorious smile. “He sent you to college because I suggested it. He loved you and I knew it would be you who would get in my way in the near future. You were gone longer than I expected, but it pleased me and I got even closer to your father. He’s in my hands now and you can’t do anything about it, so don’t try,” she added with a sneer.

I felt my face get hot from my anger, yet I kept my cool as I said, “Well, ma’am, I suppose I better go—” she smirked and I stopped my closing remarks. “Is there something else you wish to discuss with me?”

“I have the key,” she said. “You can’t go anywhere until I see it fit.”

I stared at her, then said, “Where’s my father?”

“To catch the Thief of the thieves,” she said with a smile as I paled. That’s what he was doing. He was going to catch the King. My father never believed in the legends, though. This was not something I could easily believe, but, then again, this was Abigail Clark. She certainly had something up her sleeves to convince him.

She saw my thoughtful expression and smirked. “Your father is too easy,” she said. “He told me how he never believed in the King, but I convinced him, sure enough,” she answered my unasked question. “He’s out there, now, searching for Robert King and his daughter whose location is unknown. However, I care mostly for Robert King for the reward is too great to ignore.”

“You’ll never catch him,” I said coolly. I will never admit that my hero had a weakness to an amateur like my father.

“The King has not been around for long, actually,” Abigail said with a shrug. “He has started his streak of crimes six years ago, starting with the minors: stealing bread from the family tables, trespassing on others’ property. I look forward to catching the scoundrel. For nearly seven years he has caused me trouble, but today I know we will catch him, and I can’t have you interfering. I thought up a marvelous plan to catch the Thief of the thieves, but the one flaw was you—the number one fan of the King. Be wary: you may be next.”

With that, she walked away to her desk and seated herself. I sat on the window sill and stared out past the town and into the trees where my hero was known to dwell in and where my father would soon murder my one love and encouragement: the King.

I dunno if anyone is reading this story still, but I'm gonna post anyway. Here's chapter 3.

Chapter 3

He was not caught, which was a relief to me. My father came empty handed and Abigail went on a huge tantrum, my father trying to calm the woman. Yes, I was eavesdropping yet again, but it was the only way to get information now since Abigail knew me better than ever after yesterday. I was stuck in her office through the night, finally let out this morning. Now, here I sat, listening through the window outside as Abigail screamed at my father. However, her cries soon died and my father’s voice was heard. I paled no doubt as white as a ghost when I heard his words.

“He will never mess with your town again,” he said. “I shot the one shot and he limped away, blood pouring from his wound. I would have stayed to get the body, but you know how that would look with the people of Ranger: the sheriff carrying a dead body in his hands.”

Abigail squealed of excitement as I sat as stiff as a board. I heard them kiss each other inside, but paid no attention to their actions any longer for my hero was gone. He was dead, leaving me alone with my father.

The next few years had gone by slowly and quietly. No longer were there any rumors of seeing the King. No longer were there new legends to share. No longer was I interested in anything but myself. I walked around with a gloomy expression and sad heart. I came over it and just did my duty, soon becoming just a bounty hunter, a mercenary.

I refused to work for Abigail and my father. So angry I was that I changed my name: Rudy County. It was a name that easily flowed from the lips and one could not forget its smooth sound. I no longer shaved, but kept my scruffy look, my dark hair no longer combed neatly but naturally laid. I wore a denim shirt with a bolo tie around my neck, a brown vest on top. I wore brown pants and boots, an outfit I never wore. I always wore the jeans and shirt, but now I dressed as a bounty hunter, looked like Rudy County and not Bradley Locksley. I also hefted a gun holster around my waist and leg, a revolver lying in its place, ready for me to swing out in an instant.

At the age of thirty, I had exceptional experience with the gun and was a top shooter in Ranger. I out-shot my father who was deeply impressed with me, asking if I, Rudy County, would become his new deputy. I refused, of course, saying I was not of this town and it would be better if one trusted by the people of this town was called to duty. This displeased him, but it pleased me for Deputy Luke was still in place.

I caught my first crook, one who was on the wanted board in my father’s office. After that day, my name was known. My father sent the man into the cell and Abigail paid me. I was on my way, but it was difficult getting through the mass of people into the saloon across the street. The saloon was no better.

I was most welcomed at the bar, but I made sure to sit next to Deputy Luke. I introduced myself as Rudy County. I knew the gullible Deputy Luke would not recognize me. He bought me a beer and we enjoyed ourselves with the crowd.

Book, however, gave me a queer look countless times. He did not greet me. He only gave me the ale and moved on down the bar, wiping the counter tops and refilling mugs. I was worried he recognized me and would tell my father, but then I knew he disliked the sheriff as much as I and stayed away from such business anyway. He was more interested in the money he earned as a bartender and the waitresses that came and went from behind the bar than the sheriff causing trouble.

Much more women were attracted to me now that I was known to catch crook after crook with such ease. Many people called me the new King, but I kept declining the compliment, saying the King was the one and only, no one can claim such a title. That was the moment of a strange event.

There were gunshots outside the saloon. Deputy Luke looked to me, but I stood up and moved away from the surrounding ladies to the outside. There I saw a couple men on horseback, shooting their guns threateningly. I walked out onto the road and they pulled to a halt. I heard the people stand on the balcony of the saloon, watching with bated breath.

“Who’re you?” they asked, spitting on the ground.

“Who are you?” I asked. I did not have a bad accent as the southerners from habit at school years ago. Much like Abigail, I had a more understandable speech from working with people in business and such.

The other man smirked and trotted in front of his companion. He had a cool air about him as if he was the King and others never noticed. “Boston Shoemaker,” he said.

I remembered the name. Deputy Luke told Book and I a story about him catching a thief and the King saving his life. I glared at him, wondering if this was his usual attitude, for he did not seem friendly.

“Rudy County,” I said simply. Boston Shoemaker cocked an eyebrow.

“I heard about you,” he said smoothly and calmly, it sent chills down my back. “You’re the bounty hunter, aren’t you? The one who catches all the crooks like a good little sheriff should,” he said with a sneer.

My eyes got smaller with anger. “What’s your business?”

“To rid of you,” he said and his companion pointed a gun at me from behind. I was not watching him and, therefore, was not ready to defend myself. “I have a feeling you will get in my way. I can’t let that happen. You’re as threatening as the son of Beauregard Locksley.”

I did not respond to the name. I watched his companion’s gun carefully. My fingers twitched, being so near my gun, but I did not draw it, for it would mean the end of me. I could only hope that Deputy Luke or Sheriff Locksley was near.

My hope came true, though not the way I had hoped. I saw Deputy Luke at the corner of my eye, walking out to the road a ways down. “You’re under arrest,” he called, gun held out. We all looked, including Shoemaker’s companion. I saw Deputy Luke’s hand was trembling, so I had to be quick.

I drew my gun and pointed at Shoemaker. Shoemaker saw me and backed up a bit. His companion, held his gun up at me still, but his eyes widened with fear. I could not shoot, for he would shoot me, then Deputy Luke would shoot him, and it would become a mess. I did not drop me weapon, however. I kept my eyes fixed on Shoemaker.

“Well, we can’t stand like this forever,” Shoemaker said in his cool and calm voice.

He was right, I knew, but I waited. I did not move. I looked as if I never heard him. Maybe they would get restless before I. Then I would have them. However, no one moved, except Deputy Luke’s trembling hands. He made me nervous inside, and I was right to be so for he dropped his gun on the ground. The gun shot from its fall and Deputy Luke fell to the ground with fright, but the bullet shot toward the horses, causing them to rear on their hind legs in fright. Shoemaker struggled to calm his steed while his companion struggled to hang on for dear life. I made another shot, purposefully missing them. I did not want to kill, but I did want to scare them into the jail cells.

The next thing happened too fast.

The companion’s horse was finally on all four hooves and he shot at me. I felt the bullet enter my chest. I fell to my knees, clutching my chest with my left hand, my right hand aiming for Shoemaker. I shot, but there were two shots at that moment; mine, and another. The companion fell to the ground, blood spilling out of the bullet wound. The horse took off and I saw Shoemaker run off as well, my bullet completely missed him.

Then I collapsed, completely knocked out.


I awoke in bed, a woman bending over me and cleaning my wound. I winced from the pain, but she calmed me, saying she was nearly finished. She taped it with the bandages then left the room as soon as Deputy Luke came in, his hands twirling his hat nervously.

“I’m sorry, Mr. County,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m just not as brave as a real deputy.”

I smiled. “No, Deputy Luke, you are brave. You just gotta work out your nerves.” Deputy Luke smiled in return at the remark and shrugged. “Say, do you know anything about Boston Shoemaker?” I asked, shifting myself carefully for the wound hurt terribly.

“Oh, yes, sir,” he said and drew himself a chair and sat down. “He used ta be a boun’y hunter ‘round the Big City, Shamrock, ya know, until he went mad, I guess. Now ‘e has a gang and they do all sorts of crimes, yet catchin’ crooks to gain money. They’re all for the money,” he said with a grave shake of his head. “I s’pose yer now on his list of crooks.”

I shrugged and looked away. “I might be, but it won’t be easy.” I looked to Deputy Luke to reassure him of my safety. Then I asked, for I suddenly remembered what actually happened before I was knocked out. “Who shot the man?”

Deputy Luke took a moment to think of what I was talking about. When he didn’t seem to understand, I explained to him how there were two gunshots: mine and another’s. He assured me it was not him for he was the one who dropped the gun and chaos started. I silently agreed, but who could it have been? I no longer talked to Deputy Luke, so he left, leaving me with my thoughts.

My first thought was the King, but I knew him to be dead, just as everyone else did—killed by the sheriff’s own bullet. If it wasn’t the King, who did it? Someone saved my life and I was meaning to thank them…somehow. I didn’t know how, but I knew it would come to me. First, however, I had to get out of bed.

I'll just keep posting until the end. I think I got a good story going, but I would like some comments of encouragement. Here's chapter 4.

Chapter 4

I was kept in bed for nearly a week before the nurse said I could finally go. I didn’t like the long wait. Now I felt dizzy and it was hard to walk out the room, let along down the stairs. Deputy Luke came to assist me as I walked outside into the bright sunlight. I wanted to go back in, but I fought the urge. I had a mission: find Boston Shoemaker.

I really wanted to find that mysterious shooter who saved my life, but Boston Shoemaker was the bigger threat. I had to figure out what Shoemaker really wanted. I thought of the words he said to me and wondered what he meant. I have a feeling you will get in my way. You’re as threatening as the son of Beauregard Locksley.

Why was I in the way? I didn’t understand. I suppose Rudy County would be in the way since I was a tough bounty hunter. However, why was Sheriff Locksley’s son so special? There was only one way for me to find out and that was to confront Sheriff Locksley.

I told Deputy Luke I would be on my way to the Sheriff’s office. Deputy Luke said he would accompany me in case the Sheriff had any missions for him. We walked down the road, across the balconies and into the jail cell. I walked up to the Sheriff’s door as Deputy Luke sifted through the papers on his desk by the door.

I was about to knock when I heard voices inside—the familiar Abigail Clark and Sheriff Locksley. They were talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, so I knelt down beside the key hole and put my ear against it. Deputy Luke looked at me strangely and was about to talk when I put my finger to my mouth. He shut up, but was still confused. He joined me by the door, listening to whatever was interesting.

“We lost your son a few years ago, true,” Abigail said, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she paced about the office. “However, we’re still not sure if he’s dead. He could prove fatal to my plans. Also, Rudy County nearly killed my dear Boston. He should be taken care of as well. Once those two fall into your jail cells, then we can go on to mines. I don’t want the government involved. I don’t want to be caught.”

“I won’t let them catch you,” the Sheriff said sternly. “We made it this far, and we can make it to the end.”

“But Bradley—”

“My son’s gone,” he snapped then sighed. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I don’t want to talk about it. He’s gone and that’s that. I don’t want to talk about it. Rudy County is someone I can handle, however. I’ll take care of him—don’t worry.”

There was silence then Abigail’s heels clicked a few more times. “I’m sorry, Bo honey,” she said sweetly, a kiss sounded from the office. “I guess I’m just worried. I trust you will handle the job, just like all the others I gave you before.”

I moved away when there was clearly no more conversing between the two on the subject. I stood and walked back to Deputy Luke’s desk, Luke following on my heels. I sat in his chair, propping my feet up on the desk. Deputy Luke was about to say something when Sheriff Locksley opened his door irritably. He looked from Deputy Luke then to me, his eyes widening. “County!” He reached for the handcuffs, approaching us.

“Wha’d I do now?” I asked with shock. The Sheriff was always out for me, and now I knew it was because Abigail told him to.

“You’re trespassing on Deputy Luke’s property,” he said quickly, opening the handcuffs. “Hold out your wrists.”

“But the cell’s right here,” I said, nodding toward the barred cages next to me and down the hall. “You could just walk me in.”

The Sheriff considered it then nodded, putting the handcuffs back on his belt. “Deputy Woods, throw County into jail.”

“But sir!” Deputy Luke said, straightening into attention, his hand thrown above his brow in a salute. “He did not trespass! I gave him permission!”

“Then he trespassed on my property!” the Sheriff snarled. “Arrest him!”

Deputy Luke hesitated, then walked up to me, gently taking my arm and muttering, “I’m sorry, Rudy, sir.”

I only nodded for him to continue.

I stood up and Deputy Luke led me around the desk and passed the Sheriff, the Sheriff’s beady eyes not leaving me. Deputy Luke opened a jail cell and stood aside for me to enter. I looked from Deputy Luke to the Sheriff. I slowly made my way toward the doorway, but then made my escape.

I knocked Deputy Luke’s hat down over his face and threw him inside the cell. I caught the keys that were flying as the Sheriff ran for me. I stepped aside at the knick of time, holding out my foot. The Sheriff tripped. He caught his balance, but fell into the next cell as he did so. I quickly locked both cells and made for the exit when I heard Abigail’s voice.

“Rudy County.”

I groaned, but then switched my face to a pleasant surprise. I smiled and tipped my hat in respect. “Howdy, ma’am,” I said.

Abigail smiled, looking me up and down, her fingers tapping on her hip. She finally looked up at my sparkling eyes and said, “You forgot the keys.”

I smiled playfully. “My mistake,” I said, tossing the keys on Deputy Luke’s desk. With another tip of the hat, I said, “Good day, ma’am,” and left the sheriff’s office.

I was only down one block when I heard the Sheriff’s call from a distance, “I’ll get you next time, County!”

I held up my hand to let him know that I heard and continued walking, smiling at another escape from the Sheriff’s clutches. I kept walking until I was sure the Sheriff entered his office again, then I crossed the street and entered the saloon from the back ally since it laid just across the street from the Sheriff’s office.

I was greeted with cheers and whistles as I entered the saloon. They all seemed to have saw me running down the street, escaping the Sheriff yet again. Book, praising me on my escape, gave me a beer ‘on the house’. I drank with the other guys, yet I still saw Book eyeing me peculiarly. I was about to ask when I saw a new wench walk up behind the bar, carrying a tray of empty mugs.

She was beautiful in my eyes, her brown hair curled and pulled back in a tail. Her curls fell about her face as she leaned down to fill some mugs, giving me as well as the other guys a delicious sight. However, my mind drew me to her necklace around her neck—a locket, it seemed. When she stood, it was hidden in her chest. The guys around me whistled to her and she only smiled, teasing them as she passed around the bar and to the tables of the saloon.

I turned in my stool and watched her move around the saloon with smooth grace and pure beauty standing our from the rest. It was like a dream, an angel. She did not belong here, yet I was glad she did.

“Who’s the new wench, Book?” called a big guy sitting near me, looking willingly at the girl. “She’s cer’ainly a good pick,” he added, his eyes roaming every inch of her bodice.

“’Er name’s Brianna Prince,” Book said, leaning on the bar and looking at the girl, dirty rag hanging limply in his hand. “She applied for a job here yesterday, went into training, got good reports, and she got the job. She’s obviously a good addition.”

“More than you think,” the big guy said, almost drooling in his seat.

“Come now, Fred,” said another, a touch sarcastically, his eyes on Brianna Prince. “Don’ scare the new wench.”

“Oh, not at all,” he said and rose from his seat before I could stop him. I stood up from my stool to go after him, but Book grabbed my vest and pulled me back against the counter.

“C’mon, Coun’y!” he said, a touched amused. “Le’ Big Fred have ‘is fun! Let the wench get a taste of ‘er job.”

I did not free myself from Book’s grasp. I was too enwrapped in his statement. In my youth, Book was never so cruel. He would never see a girl go to any trouble as Brianna Prince would surely face. Now, however, Book was letting the big man do whatever he desired, possibly open a room upstairs just for them if it came down to it. I watched with fear, though I fought to keep it back.

Fred walked up behind Brianna Prince. I could not hear what they were saying, but he obviously gave her a fright for she jumped, spilling the mugs on the floor. I had never seen a woman in such a fright, staring up at Fred with horror-filled eyes. She stepped back as Fred tried to close up on her, trapping her against the wall. The whole saloon watched to see what the new wench would do.

I noticed the young girl was afraid and I acted. I released myself from Book, making my way towards them when the girl reached for a mug of beer and smashed it against Fred’s head, breaking the glass. I stopped as Fred howled with rage and backed off, running into men and tables, resulting in a fall to the ground, blood pouring from the cuts in his face.

The men laughed at Fred and the girl looked up to Book, calling, “I’ll pay for the mug!” The men roared again and she offered the nearby man a free mug of beer for the one she spilled and broke all over Fred. She stepped over Fred and walked past me around the bar. I resumed my seat, staring at her.

“Definitely a good addition!” the guys said to Book.

“There’s nothin’ to worry abou’, Coun’y!” they said. “This gal can handle ‘erself.”

Oh my, sorry I haven't posted on your work.

I spotted some typos, but mainly I wanted to tell you that you really have a captivating story here. The plot is just so absorbing!

Typos

I also hefted a gun holster around my waste and leg, a revolver lying in its place, ready for me to swing out in an instant.

waste I'm guessing you meant waist.

I made another shoe, purposefully missing them.

Think you mean shot.

Er, I thought I saw more than that, oh well.

Anyway, I have a small suggestion. Maybe you shouldn't say Deputy Luke so much, just trim it to Luke. Just a suggestion.

I moved away when there was clearly no more conversing between the two on the subject. I stood and walked back to Deputy Luke’s desk, Deputy Luke following on my heels. I sat in Deputy Luke’s chair, propping my feet up on the desk. Deputy Luke was about to say something when Sheriff Locksley opened his door irritably. He looked from Deputy Luke then to me, his eyes widening. “County!” He reached for the handcuffs, approaching us.

Lots of Deputy, it just seems to slow it down a little.

And so you know, I have never really read a western before, but I find your story really good.

Oh good, at least I know the story wasn't abandoned or anything. Thanks for catching the gramatical errors. I'm really bad at that...here's chapter 5.

Chapter 5

I stayed in the saloon throughout the day and into the night when the singing girls were starred. Brianna Prince still served, not seeming to get a break. She seemed exhausted, however, and I felt dead sorry for the lady. She slumped over the counter as the customers watched and cheered and whistled the singing girl on stage. I leaned over toward Brianna Prince and said, “Need a break?”

She jumped as I spoke, but quickly regained her composure. She smiled and flushed a light shade of pink as she spilled a mug of beer that sat by her elbow. She bent down to pick it up. I came round and helped her.

“Thank you, Mr. County,” she said as she took the pieces from my hand and put them in the trash. “I apologize for my clumsiness. I can’t help it when the dishes walk on their own.”

I chuckled and she smiled, flushing. I asked her again, “Need a break? Want a beer?”

“Oh, no—”

“I’ll pay,” I said quickly and, without hearing her reply, I poured some beer in a couple mugs and led her to a seat at an empty table in the back. She only laughed and accepted the mug with her thanks.

“I suppose I could use a small break,” she said and took a small sip of the beer. “I do hope Book doesn’t see me, though.”

“If he does, he has me to answer to,” I said with a wink and took a drink. She smiled then looked down to her beer, or anywhere but at me.

“I’m Brianna Prince, but you can call me Brie,” she said, her finger tracing invisible patterns on the wooden table. “I’m new to town and took this job.” Her eyes flickered up to me then back down, seeming to refuse to look at me when I was looking at her.

“Is there no other job?” I asked, taking another swig of beer. “This is a rough place for a pretty lady as yourself.”

She smiled and flushed, still ignoring my gaze. “It’s good pay,” she said simply. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

“Obviously,” I said, recalling the beating Fred took earlier that day.

“I saw you start toward us,” she said, her eyes, again, flickering to me then back down. “You were thinking of saving the day again, weren’t you?”

I didn’t reply right away, but when I did, it was slow and careful. “It was out of respect.”

“Respect?” she repeated and I knew why. No man around here had so much respect except Deputy Luke yet he was very nervous about his job and of new people.

“I’m a man of respect,” I said. “I do what I think is right. It is never out of greed.”

Her eyes flickered once again. My lips tightened, wondering why she did that. Was I that ugly? I gently took her small chin in my hands and lifted her face. Her head obeyed my will, but her eyes were either closed or looking down at the table. “Why won’t you look at me?” I asked gently, hoping I wasn’t hurting her feelings in any way.

She didn’t answer. She stiffened and said, “I must be going. I’m being called for some refills.” She withdrew from my hold and left to serve, leaving me wondering about her behavior.


The next day, my thoughts of Brie returned as word spread of a fight in the local saloon. I hurried down the road and into the saloon where all the commotion was, but I dodged in time as one of them flew out the doors and onto the stairs with a crash that would surely leave a mark. I was about to enter when Brie came flying from the door as if pushed out of the way. I caught her by the arms.

“Are you alright?” I asked. Brie looked up to me and nodded, looking fearfully at the fight in the saloon. I put her aside and, again, was about to enter when Brie took my arm and looked at me.

“You must fetch a horse!” she said quickly, her words moving so fast I had to concentrate on every word she said to get her meaning. “It’s Booker Davis! He’s gone mad! He’s fighting every man in there searching for you—Rudy County! Go! Run! I can hold him off for you! I—”

“Brie!” I yelled, holding her arms since she shook violently, her eyes filled with fear. “Take it easy! I can handle him—”

“He—” she started, but caught herself and nodded. “Yes, Mr. County,” she said in a small voice.

With one look, I turned from her and to the saloon, but hardly got a sight when my name was called by that familiar voice. “Rudy Coun’y!” I heard the gun load and ready itself and I froze, not wanting him to shoot. I watched as Book appeared from the shadows of the saloon, his gun held up at my face, his face contorted with rage.

“Book,” I said, but I could not say much more for he threatened to shoot me again.

“I know who ya’re,” he said, his voice hoarse and menacing. “Ya can’ hide any longer! I won’ kill ya now! My master would like the honor of doing jus’ tha’. Bu’ I warn ya, Coun’y: one false step and you’ll be blown to smithereens!”

He slowly stepped down the stairs, gun still pointing at me. He walked over for the nearby chestnut mare and saddled up, his gun’s point not lifting from me. Then he took off in a flash. I breathed again, but watched him leave and wondered how he knew it was me and why he almost killed me.

“Mr. Coun’y, sir!” I turned to see Deputy Luke jogging down the streets toward the saloon and the commotion within. He breathed hard, his hat askew. “Wha’s goin’ on?’

I turned to face Deputy Luke, Brie stood at the corner of my eye. “Book, the bartender, ran out here as if his mother-in-law came to visit. I don’t think he’s coming back anytime soon.”

“You mean he just…left?” Deputy Luke said, scratching his head. “He was always a good sport.”

“Not to me,” I said with a sigh, memories of our friendship returning to my head—a friendship with Bradley Locksley, of course. “He threatened to kill me, or rather threatened Boston Shoemaker would kill me.”

“Ah, another one on the Wan’ed List,” Deputy Luke said. With a tip of his hat to Brie, he said, “I’ll be off to post that on the board a’ the office.”

He left, but I did not follow, nor did I enter the saloon. I stared down the road, wondering if I should go after Book. Brie made up my mind as she asked innocently, “Are you going to go after him, Mr. County?”

I turned to face the shy, yet beautiful Brianna Prince and smiled reassuringly. “No, not yet,” I answered as she quickly looked away. “Unless, of course, you want me to—”

“Oh, no!” she said hurriedly, her eyes flicking up to me then to the saloon. “I was just curious as to why he…disliked you so. Who is Boston Shoemaker?”

I smiled and took her arm gently, saying, “Let’s discuss that over a beer.”

She gave a small smile and let me lead her into the saloon.


It has been a few days since Book ran out the saloon and out of town. He never returned, leaving the saloon in the hands of Brie and other serving wenches. The city of Ranger was quiet, not much action taking place. It was honestly boring.

I did nothing the past few days, just hanging around the saloon and keeping Brie company on her work days or nights. Sheriff Locksley even laid low, or seemed to. He was, no doubt, doing Abigail’s dirty work, or giving it. Probably both since either of their office lights were on at nights.

“Brie, are you always working here?” I asked as I sat at the bar to myself as Brie washed some mugs. Now that Book was gone, she worked behind the counter more while other women served the men.

Brie ignored my face as usual, watching her work. She smiled and giggled at my question. “No, I do have a life, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well, I seem to only see you behind the bar,” I said, “and lately it’s been everyday.”

“Oh, I’m around when you don’t know it,” she said, looking at me with a teasing smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” I said as she returned to her washing with an amused smile on her face. My heart beat faster as she laughed, her beauty standing out once again. How I wanted to hold her, to claim her as my own.

“Hey, Mr. Coun’y!”

I disappointedly awoke from my day dream as Deputy Luke walked into the saloon and seated next to me. His eyes were drawn to Brie immediately, but he still talked to me. I noticed he held a newspaper in hand and held it out for me to see. We only got a newspaper on Sundays because our city was so small.

“Take a look ‘ere, Mr. Coun’y,” he said.

“Call me Rudy, please,” I said, sick of the formal title I didn’t fully deserve from a childhood friend, though Deputy Luke did not know my old identity. I took the paper and looked around the page that may spark my interest, but I couldn’t miss it for it was a long one smack-dab at the top.

Shamrock Bank Robbed of Emeralds!

On Monday 20 in the late evening, the Shamrock Bank was robbed of its jewels. The emeralds of which were entrusted to them by the mayor of Shamrock,
Dave Callaway, were stolen around midnight of that night. “I don’t know who in their right mind would steal from a top bank in the state, but they’re gonna pay!” said Mayor Dave Callaway.

Among the small emeralds stolen was a pure diamond the size of the average man’s fist. “It was an honor to have been chosen to protect this,” Callaway said. “We have for two years, and now it’s gone.” On Friday 31, the diamond was to be transported to Washington D.C. under stronger protection. If these jewels are found, please contact your local police and place your name so you may be rewarded well.

“The Shamrock Bank? Robbed?” I said with disbelief.

“I know!” Deputy Luke said. “I never knew it could happen! No one ever did it! I guess no one ever tried, but now it’s been done.”

“Let me see,” Brie said and I handed her the newspaper.

“The trickiest person I know is Boston Shoemaker,” Deputy Luke said.

“No, the trickiest person we know is the King,” I said. Brie looked up at the mention of the name.

“The King? I thought he was dead,” she said.

“I never said he was alive,” I said gravely, “nor did I say he could have robbed the bank. I’m just saying he’s the trickiest person we know. However, we can’t just assume that Shoemaker robbed the bank. It can easily be someone else. I’ll keep my eye out for the jewels, though. Sounds like a big bounty one would be willing to hunt for.”

“I’d be careful, Mr. Cou—I mean, Rudy,” Deputy Luke said. “Shoemaker is not easy ta catch. An’ we have no place ta start to catch the thief. How d’you think you’ll find ‘em?”

“I have an idea,” I said and leaned forward so only Deputy Luke and Brie could hear what I had in mind for I was sure I would find the thief and gain his profile, if not himself.

Here's some more. chapter 6.

Chapter 6

The next day, we put my plan into action. Brie couldn’t help because of her wanted help at the saloon, so it was up to Deputy Luke and me, which was fine. I didn’t think Brie would want to do such work anyway.

Yesterday I went to the local jeweler. He was no expert and was never good at business, selling much cheaper stuff to keep his store going until one needed a wedding ring or engagement gift. I asked to borrow the finest jewel he had and that I would return it the next day. I had to pay a fee to borrow it, but at least it was no where near the buying price of the gem.

I took the crystal to the blacksmith down the street and asked for some kind of duplicate. He said it was possible, but I had to pay a fee. I knew I had to, but I didn’t realize I had to for the gem. Half my money was gone and, thank the one God, Deputy Luke came by to assist me and paid what I was missing.

Today I picked up the fake and the real gems. I easily could tell them apart. The fake crystal had one flaw: it was made of painted glass with weights inside to match the gem. I returned the real gem to the jewel and we continued with the plan.

I entered the mayor’s building and knocked on Abigail Clark’s door. If this gem fooled Abigail, it would surely catch the thief. Besides, I could only get permission from Abigail to put it in the bank.

The door opened by Abigail and I was surprised she was alone. She smiled as she saw me and invited me in. I carried the gem in a pouch, not wanting to attract attention. Abigail saw it, however, and was all for the business.

“What do you have, Rudy County?” she asked, sitting in her high backed chair and looking up at me with admiring eyes.

I opened the bag and pulled out the gem. Her eyes fell on the crystal and she instantly became eager to hear my request. I told her I wanted it in the bank to be protected since I read about that thief and didn’t trust myself to keep it safe. She took the crystal and checked it for any flaws. I waited with bated breath.

She turned it in her hands, knocked it a few times, ran her thin fingers over its glassy surface. Her thin brow furrowed and I was afraid Abigail found out the truth when she looked up at me with bright eyes. “I’m more than willing to help you, Mr. County,” she said. “I’ll be sure to put it in the vault where no one will take it.”

“Thank you, Ms. Clark,” I said with a tip of my hat. “I knew I could trust you.”

She smiled as I turned to leave then called after me, “If I catch you in my office again, I’m calling the Sheriff.”

I turned, smirking and her smile faded. “You wouldn’t call him,” I said and left without Abigail even trying to reply.

That night, I checked that the jewel was safe in the bank. The banker led me to the vault so I could see with my own eyes the glass gem sitting among the gold coins and dollar bills. Satisfied, I went to the saloon and sat by the window to hear for any sudden voices for the bank was just down the street.

Brie was not there that night. I asked one of the women where she was. They only said that she asked for a break. She claimed she needed sleep from the continuous work she had to do this past week. I understood for, no matter how cheerful and talkative she was, I knew she must have been tired since Book disappeared.

No thief came that night and the next day, Deputy Luke walked the streets, mainly around the bank, doing his usual patrol around town. I sat in the saloon once again, but Brie was back with a much more happier sound to her voice and a buoyant step. She gave me a beer on the house after serving the other men and sat down next to me.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night,” she said, setting her tray on the table and looking out the window. “I was completely exhausted. With Book gone, the women need as much hands as they can get with all these hungry men.”

I smiled and patted her hand. “It’s alright. I was getting quite worried about you anyway. Putting the new girl on a strict schedule is a bit harsh. I’m glad you got some sleep. Besides, nothing happened last night. We’ll be waiting again tonight. I didn’t expect the thief to come anyway. Who in their right mind would come to Ranger for a good money-worthy gem?”

“That’s why I’m sorry,” she said. “You sat here alone all night.”

“Oh, no, I had the hungry men to accompany me as we watched the performers,” I said, taking a drink of beer. She did not laugh, but made a weak smile. I sighed and said, “It’s fine. As long as you’re alright, I’m alright. Now, are you going to be around tonight?”

“Sure thing,” she replied. “I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep on the job, now would I?” she teased.

I chuckled, “No, I suppose not.” I took another drink.

“Hey, wench! Gimme ‘nother beer!”

“Comin’!” she called and left the table. My eyes followed her around the saloon as she refilled mugs and served the new customers. My, what an addition to the saloon!

I sat in silence for long moments, my mind mostly on Brie, my eyes on the bank. My thoughts were always on the girl, her brown curls, her smooth curves, her locket that lay low in her chest and out of sight. I longed for her, yet my instincts kept me back, paying as much respect as I could. It must be that bloodline of Sheriffs in me.

That night was another failure, but it was an amusing night with Brie. She sat with me when she was not needed, drinking a beer herself and we would talk. By midnight, she was nearly drunk and I insisted she go to bed. Women were more vulnerable to the alcohol.

“No! I gotta work!” she said, laughing hysterically. “I’ll be back later—hic!—No worries! Hic!”

“Brie, I think it’s time for you to go home,” I said, laughing at the sight.

“Are you gonna walk me home, then?” she said teasingly and laughed again at another hiccup.

The night was long, yet enjoyable. I didn’t leave her alone the next day. She flushed of embarrassment every time I brought it up then gave an excuse to leave the table.

“Okay, so it was one too many drinks!” Brie said exasperatedly. “I’m sorry, I never got out of hand. It won’t happen again.”

I laughed. “It surely passed the night by! The thief didn’t come again. I suppose I’ll have to be here tonight again. Will you be here?”

She thought it over for a moment. I was almost sure she would say yes. Her eyes avoided mine as she thought. It irritated me for I didn’t even know the color of her eyes. Every time I wondered what the color was, she was looking away or her eyes were flicking to me then at something else so I didn’t see.

“I’m afraid not,” she said finally and my brow furrowed. She winced at my confused look and said, “They’re starting to give me a break. I might as well use it to my advantage.”

I couldn’t argue with that, especially when said by Brie, so I nodded and shrugged it off.

It was another lonely night in the saloon, the third night of my plan. It was proving to be a failure when I saw movement by the side of the bank and voices later inside the building. I left the saloon unnoticed and, drawing my gun, quietly made my way to the bank. I crouched by a window and looked inside.

The two bankers stood aside fearfully, their hands up, their eyes looking at one spot—the vault. There was a figure crouched by the lit vault and another arrived from inside. I couldn’t make out who it was or what he looked like, but I did know that this was the thief for he inspected it as if he knew what he was looking for in a jewel.

I thought twice about running in and pointing my gun at them. Instead, I ran to the stables stealthily and took a black horse with me. I sat on the saddle, waiting for them, and watched them run to the back of the bank where stood two horses. They saddled and started riding past me. When they saw me, my gun in hand, I felt their fear, heard their gasps, and they took off in a flash. I started after them, my gun at the ready.

They ran fast, but I ran as fast as they. I was afraid to shoot for it would wake the citizens of Ranger, and also was afraid I would kill one of them. I didn’t feel like getting arrested for killing, even if the victim was a thief. Plus, it was one of my beliefs—no one deserved to die unless they deserved it.

They started riding off road now and I followed, though a bit reluctantly. I knew this place like the back of my hand, but I could easily lose these guys in the trees. I kept running until a horse and rider appeared in my way and I was forced to stop. I backed up a bit to see who it was yet keep my distance.

“Hello, County,” said a smooth, calm voice. “Nice to have you drop by.”

“Shoemaker,” I muttered as he stepped into the clearing I stood in, the moonlight pouring down on the cowboy dressed in black. “I should’ve known.”

“Known that I would steal the jewel? Probably not,” he hissed lightly. “All you knew about me was that I was a good bounty hunter gone mad. It could have lasted a day or a year or a century. However, I’m not mad and I never was. I only came to my senses. Now here I am, making a downright good living. I’m rich, County, and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Watch me,” I sneered, lifting my gun.

“You won’t shoot,” he chuckled, his eyes falling on my gun amusingly.

“Why not?”

“I have reason,” he said and his head turned to his right. I looked to see a man thrown onto the ground motionless by another man. I gulped as I recognized the familiar build of my childhood, thrown carelessly by my old childhood friend, Booker Davis who grinned maliciously.

I growled. “What happened to you?” I demanded, my hand holding the rifle starting to shake.

“I came to my senses,” he replied and an alien cold tone. “You were in my way to becoming great. I could have become more than a bartender if you weren’t skirting about as a good little sheriff.”

“I’m not sheriff,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Of course, not yet,” Book said.

“You see, County,” Shoemaker said in his soft cold voice, “you, unlike your father, are strong-willed. You do not sway like your father has. That’s why you’re in my way, County. You’re too good, better than your father. That’s why you must be destroyed.”

At these words, Book lifted a gun and pointed at me. I tensed at the sight and wondered of dropping my gun at his command. I hesitated a long while, then dropped it. Shoemaker smirked. “It don’t matter, County. Book, kill—”

Bang!

Book yelled in agony, dropping his gun and falling against a tree, clutching his leg. Shoemaker looked at him in disgust then grabbed the gun when there was another gunshot and he was forced to run. Book crawled away as fast as he could after Shoemaker, not wanting to fall victim to whoever was shooting. I looked around hurriedly, wondering who it was.

There was no more shooting and Book and Shoemaker were both gone. I was alone with the horse, the gun, and the dead Sheriff Locksley. I stared at the body, pitied the man, and decided on burying him, for he deserved, at most, a proper burial. I made it quick and easy then left for Ranger, no glass gem in hand.

My thoughts wandered to the shooting, though. I was saved once again by that mysterious sharpshooter. Boston and Shoemaker got away once again, but so did the shooter and I was most irritated with the latter. How I wished to know who he was, but my mind had to stay focused.

I would report what I learned to Deputy Luke and Brie, if she was around and willing to hear. Book, or Davis I would start calling him, and Shoemaker worked together and would, no doubt, get out word that I was Bradley Locksley just to make my life difficult. I waited for that day.

How would I explain to Abigail? I dreaded that moment for surely the whore would start coming after me now that the Sheriff was gone.

The Sheriff was gone. It pained my inside, but I didn’t cry. I’m not too close to him any longer. Heck, I changed my name! But, I still felt an emptiness inside me. A part of me was gone. The Sheriff, I once called father, was dead.

Chapter 7

I explained to Deputy Luke and Brie what happened last night. They both listened intently. Deputy Luke gasped and watched me fearfully as I recalled the events. Brie totally stopped working, her rag hanging limply in her hand as she listened. I didn’t, however, tell them the Sheriff was my dad. I only said how the Sheriff was murdered by Boston Shoemaker.

“Did you tell Ms. Clark yet?” Brie asked in an undertone. She, like many others, knew of the affairs between the two and she, like me, was completely disgusted.

“I did,” I admitted and told them what happened. Abigail broke into tears that night at the sight of the body and thanked me deeply for telling her first thing. It was not much of a scene worth of importance, as I saw it.

“So they took the gem,” I said finally, “but I don’t know where they took it. I was caught. I should have snuck after them, but they spotted me easily.”

“So your timing was a little off,” Brie said indifferently. “Big deal! I’m sure you guys can track them down.”

“How?” I said. “We don’t know where they are!”

“They’re after you, aren’t they?” Brie said, her voice sharp. “Why are you thinking so pessimistically? It’s done! Time to move on!”

I sighed. Brie was right, I knew, but I couldn’t let myself to grab the concept. I was caught and I nearly died, until that mysterious shooter came along and saved my life.

“Wait,” I said, lifting my head from my hand, “that shooter…maybe he followed them!”

Brie looked up from her washing, her brow furrowed. “Do you really think they’ll show themselves after hiding for so long?”

“It’s worth a shot,” I said. Deputy Luke only listened to the conversation.

“How are you going to find him?” Brie asked, returning to her washing.

“I have a plan,” I suddenly said and was about to say when the guys at the tables called for Brie and another mug or two of beer.

“I’m comin’!” She called and went to fill the beers, leaving me to converse with Deputy Luke only. I told him of the plan and he seemed easy going, agreeing it may work if my last plan did.

I only shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”


My plan did not need so much preparation so it went off immediately afternoon. It was going to take a bit of trust between the people involved, but it should prove well. Of course, I was a little iffy on asking Big Fred to help out after what happened between him and Brie, but he accepted, as did Joey Thinner, one of the regular guys at the saloon.

Deputy Luke was also involved, as was I. It would be interesting to see how this turned out for I didn’t know how well Big Fred and Joey Thinner would follow the plan. We were supposed to fake a robbery, they disguising as men of Boston Shoemaker.

They were pretty well, maybe too well. Big Fred and Joey held up their guns at me, claiming to be sent by Boston Shoemaker to kill me. I stared at them with wide eyes as if of surprise when Deputy Luke arrived, shooting his gun in the air as a warning to the two ‘crooks’.

This was when I grabbed a horse and took off down the road. Joey Thinner hopped on another and followed. Big Fred pushed the deputy aside then scurried onto a horse and took the rear.

Their gunshots kept missing me which proved they were trustworthy enough. I ran off the path, hoping to ‘lose them’ when my horse came to a sudden halt, almost flinging me off its back. I held on to my hat as I hopped up and down from the saddle then looked up to see what was happening. I yelped with surprise and horror at the sight.

I was surrounded, or we as Big Fred and Joey Thinner arrived, by a gang of cowboys. Amongst them was Booker Davis, grinning maliciously. For a split second I showed my fear in every inch of my face, but then my brow furrowed as my eyes fell on Davis.

“Playin’ cowboys, boys?” Davis asked sending soft chuckles around the group. “I’m afraid we gotta break it up. Mr. Shoemaker wants ta see ya, Coun’y.”

There was a gunshot from behind me. One of the two guys shot, sending the group in retaliation. Davis was furious at the group’s lack of maturity. I took my moment and turned and ran, the horse running faster than when we were acting.

I looked behind me and saw Big Fred and Joey Thinner following me, their guns in their hands, shooting wildly at the gang of cowboys running after us. I didn’t want to send these guys into Ranger, but I had no other way and it was too late when I thought about it. There were screams and scurrying people seeking shelter.

I pulled my horse back as another batch of guys arrived at the other end of the road. They split up, a total round of ten guys I guessed. I hopped off my horse, knowing full well it would do nothing now. The other two followed my lead a bit hesitantly, their guns in their hands. I watched everyone of the gang stop and wait then turned my eyes on Davis as he hopped of his horse and walked a ways toward us.

“You might as well come quie’ly, Coun’y,” Davis said, his hands on his hips. “I don’ wanna shoot ya.”

When he said that, I remembered Davis getting shot in the leg. My eyes fell on his thigh which looked bigger than his other probably because of bandages. “Yes,” Davis started, seeing my gaze, “it was bad, but I lived.”

“I’m glad,” I said, my eyes looking up at him as I did when we were kids. Davis was a bit taken aback but resumed his new character, the bad guy. He was always good at that when we played cowboys.

“C’mon, Coun’y—What the—”

A gunshot sounded not too far away, but no one shot the shot. Everyone looked around, hoping to catch sight of the mysterious shooter they all heard about, heard of, but never seen. I saw him, though. He stood atop the saloon roof, his arm held up, his gun pointing at the sky when he shot. I could not see his face, but I knew who he was when I saw him: the King.

My heart raced at the sight and I was overly excited. Book was shocked to see the man and started backing off. “Men, we better get,” he said and turned around as if to leave, but one of his men shot at us, hitting Big Fred. He yelped and clutched his side, turning at the instant, but the King beat him, shooting the shooter with quick succession in the shooter’s leg.

Chaos broke loose as the gang charged at us three or shooting arbitrarily at the King, hoping for hope they shot him. The King, however, stood completely still and unafraid, his gun held up at them still. He did not shoot, though, and I knew why: he wouldn’t want to shoot me, Joey Thinner, or Big Fred.

I punched one, kicked another, bit a hand, dug the butt of my gun into another’s stomach. They all were afraid of getting beat by me and decided on running. Joey Thinner, who still held his gun, shot at them as they ran. A few remained, however, among them was Booker Davis. My back was turned to him and, in one instant, I drew my gun and turned toward him. He held his gun up at the same second and we stared at each other, he scowling, I coolly.

We stared long and quiet, no one daring to move. Even the other guys watched, wondering what would happen. I saw Davis’ hand start to shake, his head dripping with sweat, his eyes smaller with anger and stress. My face was only beaded with sweat, my hand as steady as the King was standing, my expression not changing.

“Yer finished, Coun’y!” he shrieked and there was a gunshot, but it was not from Davis or I. All eyes turned to the gang or the two guys behind me, but my eyes went to the King who now stood on the side of the road, his black hat pulled low over his eyes. He had a slender build, wore black gear—black pants, black boots, black jacket buttoned up the front. His gun was held up toward them, Davis falling to the ground motionless.

I saw the King’s hand was steady, but his shoulders tensed. I knew he regretted that shot. He would never kill a man, but he would wound him.

“Get outta here or I’ll pound ya!” Deputy Luke called, shooting his gun. The gang scrambled on horses and ran as fast as they could. Big Fred and Joey Thinner watched them leave then returned to the saloon, expecting me to follow, but I didn’t. I stood watching the King who still didn’t move an inch.

“King?” I asked, a bit unsure of what to call him. I took one step toward him and the King took off at a run. I was not going to look like a coward so I ran after him down the street and around the corner.

He was fast, really fast, but I caught up just fine. I was kind of pushing it, but I still had my eye on him. I eventually took a shortcut through an ally—it was a chance worth taking—and found myself running into King and falling to the ground on top of him, rolling about the ground until he was on top of me.

The King hurried off of me, but I opened my eyes to see just in time. I grabbed his arm and the King froze, tensing beneath my grasp. My heart seemed to have skipped a beat and all sound was unheard. This was the quiet part of town and, therefore, no one was here to see, but I saw completely and didn’t know what to say.

“You’re not the King,” I said faintly. “You’re…a queen!”

It was a girl. Her hat flew off her head when we ran into each other just as mine did and I saw brown curls fall about her shoulders, a black eye patch covering her right eye. She was breathing heavily and her one good eye looked at me steadily, almost sternly. I let go of her, still looking at her. “The King?”

“Is that a problem?” she snapped, standing up quickly and stepping back. She bent over to pick up her hat and put it on, lowering it over her eyes.

I didn’t reply, slowly standing up with the same shock. I movements were slow as I picked up my hat and brushed myself off, my eyes not leaving the King.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Alright, as long as you don’t give me away, I’ll let you go.”

“What?” I said, not really listening.

She sighed again irritably. “I won’t turn you in to Clark if you don’t tell anyone what you’ve seen.”

“So…you are the King?” I said, slowly returning to my senses.

“Maybe,” she said a bit annoyed. “Just don’t start going off on questions and how you looked up to me and all that jazz because I don’t want to deal with it. I gotta go—”

“Go?” I repeated. “Where? Where do you live?”

“Why would I tell you?” she snapped, her hands going to her hips. At that moment, I knew she was female. Her jacket’s buttons unbuttoned half way down throughout this meeting to reveal a black corset and the female body frame I knew only too well, as did other men.

“I’m sorry, er, King—”

“Don’t apologize,” she interrupted. “It’s me that should apologize. I was never caught like I was just now. I was just…shaken up a bit by what happened. I…” her voice trailed off.

“You killed a man,” I finished for her.

“Well, there’s a possibility…” she said, though her voice was not very hopeful.

“Why don’t you stay? Why do you live in secrecy?”

She looked at me, her one good blue-green eye steadying on my face. “You have a lot to learn still, Mr. County,” she said, turning, and walking away without another word. I watched her leave, my mouth hanging open, wondering what she meant, and still surprised at the discovery.


“Really? You met the King?” Deputy Luke said shocked, his voice low.

“Did he know where Shoemaker was?” Brie asked, washing more mugs that early evening.

My face fell at the question. “I forgot to ask he—him,” I quickly fixed. Deputy Luke didn’t notice, but Brie’s eyes flicked up at me then back to washing. Her lips pursed.

“Well, what’s your plan now?” she asked.

“Sorry, ya’ll, but I gotta go. Ms. Clark still needs a Sheriff,” Deputy Luke said with a wide grin. “I’m hopin’ to get the job!”

“Good luck, Luke,” I said, patting his back.

“Good luck, Deputy,” Brie said.

“Thanks, ya’ll,” he said and, with a tip of his hat, left the saloon. I turned to Brie and looked up at her, hoping to catch her face.

“I need your help,” I admitted. She looked at me for a second then returned to the mugs. “Is there a way to convince the King to help us out?”

Brie didn’t say anything right away. She was about to answer when she was called for a refill. She apologized and went straight to work. I sighed and moved to the booth not too far away, getting comfortable for the entertainment that was about to start.

I sat for a while to my lonesome. I saw Brie sit by the bar deep in thought. I called her over to bring a couple beers and invited her to sit by me. She accepted, though she was not in the usual spirit she had.

“Are you alright?” I asked, taking a swig of beer. “You seem a bit down.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, putting her hand to her mouth for a second. “There’s nothing wrong. I was just thinking, is all.”

“About what? The King?” I urged.

She shrugged. “Yes…,” her voice trailed off. My brow furrowed, but I didn’t press on if she didn’t wish to discuss it. We sat in silence again, my eyes falling on her face, then the locket on her chest.

“Is that a locket?” I asked, hoping to start a conversation. She saw my gaze at her necklace and took hold of it.

“Oh, yes, well…they are pictures of my family—old pictures,” she added. She took off the locket from around her neck and handed it to me. I opened it and saw two pictures—a young woman who had the same brown curls as Brie and a man with the same charming smile. “My sister and father,” she said. “My mother died of childbirth…of me.”

“They look a lot like you,” I said, still looking at the pictures then looked up as she flushed.

“Thanks,” she said, her eyes moving up to me, then quickly away. I cursed in my head again as her eyes stayed away from mine. “What about your father and sister? Are they still alive?”

“My father died…murdered,” she said quietly. “It was a few years ago since that happened. My sister…disappeared. Many considered her dead. I think she’s still alive…just doesn’t know when to come back, or where.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes steady on her.

She bowed her head and swallowed a lump in her throat, her brown curls falling in front of her face. “She ran away when my father died. I left home for here where I could feel safe from the busy city, my hometown, Shamrock. It’s filled with bad people and I didn’t want to fall victim as my father did.”

“Who murdered him?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sniffing, “but now I worry that my sister will fall victim to whoever murdered him. I can’t stand that to happen! I can’t—”

“Brie,” I said softly, taking her hands in mine and caressing her calloused hands. “It’s alright, she’s fine. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I should be used to this by now. It’s just that…I miss her,” she said softly, her eyes on my hands that held hers comfortingly.

“I’ll help you, then,” I said gently. “Your sister can’t be far. What’s her name? I could sneak into the Sheriff’s office and pull out a file. Maybe one of her relatives live here—wait, that would mean you have family here too.”

She smiled and looked up at me with puffy eyes that seemed to be regaining their clarity. “Thank you, Mr. County,” she said. “However, you have other matters on your mind. My sister can wait.”

“Who was your father?” I persisted. “I’m sure we can pull out something—”

“Mr. County!” she said, giggling. “It’s alright.” She took the locket and put it back around her neck. “My father gave me the locket and pictures as keep sakes. ‘So we’ll forever be near your heart’ he said.”

She looked at me and we exchanged smiles and that’s when I noticed the color of her eyes, and I knew why she hid them. My smile faded slightly at seeing them and her eyes widened, aware of her gesture and quickly looked away. I was too fast, though. I took her chin gently and lifted her gaze up at me.

Her left eye was a blue-green color, but her right eye was blue-green with orange streaks. I had never seen anything like it. I closed my mouth, unaware that it was hanging open with awe. She tried to turn her head to look away, but gave up. My hold was firm.

“Why are you ashamed?” I suddenly asked. “Your eyes…they’re beautiful!”

“They’re different,” she said and I put my hand down for her to talk. “No one has such eyes as mine! I have been called many names throughout my childhood because of them: witch, devil, and more of which I don’t want to say.”

“That’s all wrong,” I said, pitying her. I took hold of her hands firmly as she looked away from me. “It’s a unique feature you should feel proud of. Besides, you certainly make them look good.”

She smiled and made a quiet laugh. I smiled as she brightened. “Thank you, Mr. County—”

“—Rudy,” I corrected.

“—Rudy,” she repeated with a smile. “I’ll remember that.”

With that, she got up and left to serve more beers, leaving me to watch her wistfully.

Shazam! I love this story!

Maybe you should put it in a link in your signature to get more people to read it. It's great!


Okay, didn't notice many typos except one paragraph.

I thought twice about running in and pointing my gun at them. Instead, I ran to the stables stealthily and took a black horse with me. I waited for them to come out of the building, sitting on the saddle, and watched them run to the back of the bank where stood two horses. The saddled and started riding passed me when they saw me, my gun in hand. I felt their fear, heard their gasps, and they took off in a flash. I started after them, my gun at the ready.

1. I think maybe you should say --- I sat on the saddle and waited for them, --- having saddle after waited was a bit confusing, and made me read the sentence over again to get it.

2. The --- They

3. passed --- past

4. past me --- period.

5. When they saw me, my gun in hand ---- comma --- I felt their fear, (could be and in there or not, depending on your style)

Later on I saw two other things.

1.

“Known that I would steal the jewel? Probably not,” he said hissed lightly.

he said hissed lightly --- he hissed, no said

2.

“You won’t shoot,” he chuckled, his eyes falling on my gone amusingly.

gone --- gun

And typos really aren't that bad. I do it when I write to fast all the time. Best thing to do is read through your story yourself, and try to keep from skimming.

Absolutely awesome story! I have my own suspicions and everything a good fan should have about a story. You truely have me hooked. This should be published. I will buy it. It's that good, really.



P.S. I'm just loving the characters, they're really good. The King was a suprise. (but I have my suspicions as to who she is ) This story is going to be engrossing when the explanation comes out of it.

And I have suspicions about other people to.

lol, I'm glad this story is to your liking. I was a bit worried. I never written a western before. I took your advice and put the link in my signature too. Thanks for catching the spelling errors as well. I'm real bad at rereading. I always skim. You caught me.

Chapter 8

My goal now was to find the King and ask her questions about Boston Shoemaker. However, I caught her once—I doubted I could do it again. Knowing her history, I couldn’t underestimate her because of her sex. I had to stay on top of things. The King won’t always be there for me, and neither would she talk to me when no good comes out of it.

However, I wasn’t going to start my search right now.

Deputy Luke came up to me one morning, his hat askew, his face red, his expression excited. “Mr. Coun’y!” he said, waving his arms around wildly. “The election for the new Sheriff is gonna be next week!”

“Are you going to run?” I asked.

“ ’Sure am!” he said with a wide grin. “I got the posters on my desk. Wanna help put them up?”

“Who’s running against you?” I asked, nodding to his question. We started on our way to his office for the posters.

Deputy Luke shrugged. “Not sure. Actually, I don’ think there is anyone runnin’, ‘cept for me,” he said, putting his thumb to his chest with another smile. “When I get elected, the firs’ thing I’m gonna do is get me a deputy! Wanna be a deputy?”

I smiled and shook my head. “No thanks. I’m more of a bounty hunter than an officer.”

“I could fix that!” he said, opening the door and walking into the office. He went over to the desk and picked up the posters in his hands. He handed half the pile to me and said, “Hang ‘em wherever. I’ll go down the right side of town, you do the left.”

“Alright,” I said and we made to leave when my name was called as we stepped outside. It was more of a shriek of rage than a greeting. I groaned for only one person would sound like that.

“Rudy County!” Abigail shrieked, marching up to them and putting her hands to her thin waist. She glared at me and my brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

I looked at her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“What are you doing?” she repeated in the same shrill.

“Hanging posters, ma’am,” I said politely as I could for I was getting irate.

“Posters for Deputy Luke?” she said with shock. “What do you think you’re doing? Come with me, Mr. County. Deputy Luke can hang his own posters.”

She took the posters from my hands, gave them to Deputy Luke, and took my hand, saying, “Come along.” I looked to Deputy Luke who was just as clueless as I. I only obeyed her and followed. She was mayor so I had no choice. To my least satisfaction, she led us into her office—the left side of the Sheriff’s office.

“Mr. County,” she said, turning to face me, “when one is running for election, he does not help his opponent win.”

“I beg your pardon,” I said instantly, now getting the drift of things.

“You’re running for Sheriff, Mr. County! Did I never tell you? Well, your posters are over there along with some buttons and other materials. We’re going to make you my new Sheriff,” she added sweetly.

I didn’t know what to say. I told Deputy Luke only a few minutes ago I would never become a deputy. Now I was being forced to outrun Deputy Luke for the role of Sheriff. I didn’t want to become Sheriff; number one was because I was afraid I would become my father—a fool, and number two was because I would work under Abigail Clark—anyone but her.

Abigail handed piles of posters to a few co-workers and told them to hang the posters up around town. I was to walk around town as I usually did, only wearing the pin she gave me which had the phrase: Count on County for the Bounty! Ridiculous…

I sighed and depressingly put the pin on my brown vest then left the office with a fixed smile to passersby. Already I saw posters on shop windows and walls. I tipped my hat over my eyes and made my way quickly to the saloon. The guys would unfortunately encourage me, but Brie would know what to say, I was sure of it.

I nearly jumped through the swinging doors into the saloon and cautiously looked up under my hat. At the sight of my eyes, the whole saloon cheered and yelled out my name, making comments of disbelief.

“Rudy Coun’y? Sheriff?”

“He’d make a good replacement.”

“What happened ta Bradley Locksley?”

“Forge’ Bradley Locksley—this is Rudy Coun’y!”

I sat in the booth that I normally sat in, seated by the window, ignoring the guys. However, they would never hear of me hiding. Anyone who passed punched me in the shoulder, wishing me good luck or saying Deputy Luke had no chance. That only made me feel worse.

To my most wonderful relief, Brie made her way over to me, giving me a good mug of beer. She didn’t look very proud of me like the guys, nor did she look disappointed or angry like I was. She was blank, only doing her job. She didn’t even pay attention to me! She only served and was about to leave when I snatched her arm. Her unique eyes turned down upon me. They were empty, and I was afraid.

“Brie?” I muttered cautiously.

“Mr. County,” she stated plainly.

“What’s wrong, Brie?” I insisted.

She sighed and dropped her hands to her side. She looked to me, setting her tray on the table. “I have to vote for a sheriff, Rudy! Do you know what my choices are? Deputy Luke or Rudy County. Hm, I wonder who I should choose—”

“—Deputy Luke!” I answered for her irritably. “I didn’t ask for this, Brie! It’s not my doing! I never signed up for the position! I even told Deputy Luke I refused to become his future deputy. I’m fine as a bounty hunter. I don’t need anything more.”

I fumed, letting it all out. I breathed hard, staring at Brie with fury she didn’t even deserve. I sighed and looked away shamefully. “I’m sorry,” I muttered into the window.

I heard Brie hesitate then sit down at the other side of the table. We looked at each other somberly, wondering what we should say. Then Brie said, “Tell me what happened.”

Was I that obvious? I told her what happened, starting with this morning when I was recruited by Deputy Luke to hang his posters. Brie listened, biting her lip to keep from commenting. She obviously detested Abigail’s sneakiness. I was grateful to see that she was on the same page as I—Abigail was a—

“What are you expecting to do?” Brie asked suddenly.

I looked to her. “I don’t know,” I shrugged solemnly. “I guess I can only go along with it, unless Bradley Locksley suddenly turns up,” I added ironically. Brie’s brow furrowed as I paused at my statement and I hurriedly continued. “Maybe we could convince everyone Deputy Luke is the choice to make. After all, he’s been doing this job for fifteen years, more or less.”

Brie shook her head sympathetically. “Maybe it won’t be too bad,” she said gently. I opened my mouth in retort, but she continued. There was no way I could interrupt a lady’s speech. “You could be jumping to conclusions. Sheriff Beauregard Locksley was…difficult. Maybe you’ll be the opposite.”

I fell silent. Was she on my side or not? I don’t want to be sheriff! Why? Well, because… Sheriff Beauregard Locksley was my father, that’s why. What if I turned out like him? What if I lose my good friend, Deputy Luke? And Brie…she obviously is torn between us two. What if I lose her too?

My worst fears came true. A moment later, Deputy Luke walked into the saloon, his face paler than usual. He was in no cheerful mood and that only made me nervous. I tipped my hat over my eyes and pretended to be sleeping, but I knew it would fool nobody.

I heard the clicking of the heels of his boots as Deputy Luke marched over. Silence fell over the crowd within the saloon. I tried to steady my breathing, but it was too obvious. He knew I was well awake and hiding from his fury.

He didn’t speak so I slowly looked up at him. He was not angry, but more…hurt. My brow furrowed from sympathy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Deputy Luke asked quietly. It was hard to make out what he said because his voice was so small.

I sighed, threw my head back impatiently. I’ve been through this countless times. I looked up at Deputy Luke. “Because I wasn’t running,” I stated firmly.

“It looks like it,” Deputy Luke argued calmly, waving his hand to the walls of the saloon which hung posters of both of them. “No wonder you didn’t wan’ to be my deputy. You’re gonna become the Sheriff—”

“That’s not true, Luke!” I said with an irritable sigh. I rubbed the crooks of my eyes with my finger and thumb, calming myself before continuing. I looked up at him again, my eyes a bit fuzzy from the rubbing. “Abi—Ms. Clark signed me up for the running. She wants me working for her. I don’t want to, Luke, I don’t!” I pleaded for his understanding.

“Why don’ you?” Deputy Luke asked, seating himself at the booth across from me.

I stared at him. He was doing a very good job keeping his cool. In fact, he made me feel worse than I had before. He was over twenty years older than I, yet he was still my good friend, as if my age, as if he were Book. We clung to each other, despite our differences. I couldn’t hurt him, I just couldn’t do it. He dreamt of becoming Sheriff, and he certainly will.

“I don’t want to be Sheriff,” I answered, “because you do. We’re going to make sure you get the job, Luke. You’ve worked all your life for that position, and we’re going to give it to you.”

“But, Mr. Coun’y,” Deputy Luke started, “you can’t campaign for your opponent!”

I leaned over the table with a grin on my face and said under my voice with enthusiasm, “Watch me.”


That night, I started helping Deputy Luke with his campaigning. We hung more posters, but I made a bigger show of it. I walked up and leaned on the bar, talking to Brie. The topic quickly changed to hanging the posters. She found it quite enjoyable.

“You know about the Sheriff election? Mind if I hang a few posters?” I asked loudly, winking to Brie.

She smiled and nodded, her loose brown curls bouncing around her face. “Go for it! It’s the best place to hang them.”

“Thank you, Ms. Prince,” I ended with a tip of my hat and hung about posters. I faced many questions that night. There were many confused stares. Big Fred stared open-mouthed and Joey Thinner asked his questions for him with his own awe-stricken face.

“Whatcha doin’?!” Joey Thinner asked as I hung a poster next to the stage curtains. “Dat’s da guy runnin’ against ya!”

It was only too obvious that he was drunk because he didn’t pronounce the ‘th’ sound. I just had to go to school and learn that proper English language. My shortcuts were stomped out of me.

“The enemy of your enemy is your friend,” I replied and continued hanging posters, leaving the drunks to scratch their heads in confusion.

The next morning meant five more days until the election. I walked down the streets, encouraging passersby to elect Deputy Luke. They were all still confused, thinking I was even going crazy.

I thought I was too.

A shadow lurked in front of mine on the ground and I stopped in my tracks. I looked up, my eyes moving all the way up to the rooftop to find that familiar shadowed figure of the King. She still looked menacing, one to watch out for. She had that glint in her eye that warned me to keep my distance, but that didn’t stop me from talking to her.

I walked down the streets with quick speed and into the trees. I walked a ways through the trees than stood, waiting for the King to come to me if she needed me.

She never came.

“King,” I said as loud as I dared. I didn’t want to attract attention from any robbers or anyone of Shoemaker’s gang. Shoemaker…

It has been a while since I thought of Shoemaker. The campaign has certainly been on my mind. The King, however, has brought the subject back on my mind. The thought of Shoemaker made me angrier now. The murder of my father was finally throwing a big blow to the gut. My fists clenched, I swallowed a lump in my throat.

The King couldn’t have arrived at a worse time.

I looked up to the sound of the rustle of leaves and there crouched a figure in black on the tree branch. “Mr. County,” she stated.

I tipped my hat, flexing my fingers from their tight clenches. “You needed me?” I asked.

“Not really,” she said, leaning back on the tree in a more relaxing position. Her left, good eye looked down at me. “However, I’ve heard you’ve been meaning to talk to me. Spill the questions so that I may leave. I got a job to do, you know.”

I didn’t question her last statement, but I did ask my question. “Do you have any leads on Boston Shoemaker?”

She studied me for a long moment, probably thinking of an answer. I clenched my teeth. She must have some leads on Shoemaker! Something told me she was hiding something and it bothered me that I didn’t know what it was. However, she was a tricky person.

“I won’t give you any information, Mr. County,” she said smoothly. “I wouldn’t want to risk any information leaking into gossip. So…you’re running for Sheriff, eh?”

I growled with agitation, but she smirked. My brow furrowed and I glared at her. How irritating she was!

Her smile grew, and I worried why she was so pleased at my reaction. “Running for Sheriff ain’t all bad, Mr. County,” she said. “I knew of one who was Sheriff of Shamrock. He was a wonderful Sheriff. There were hardly any crimes committed and, if there were, the crooks had no chance of running out of his hold. Maybe you’ll bring some good into this small town…Ranger, right? Don’t judge a cow by its spots—try the milk first.”

“You really think there’s any good for a bounty hunter to become Sheriff before the deputy?” I asked bitterly.

She smirked again and I flushed. “I agree Clark is a pain in the you-know-where, but being Sheriff would give you access to those special files and weapons you may need to catch Shoemaker.”

“I can get the information myself!” I snapped. “I did it before—” I stopped, going pale. The only other time I snuck into the Sheriff’s office was as a boy when I discovered about the King family.

The King chuckled softly. “Well, I best be going,” she said, smoothly standing on her feet. “Good luck in the election, Mr. County. I hope all goes well for you.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t want to reply. The King was a great story, but her real person was really aggravating.

But her conversation was productive.

My mind raced as I thought about the files I looked into as a boy—Alana Dawn King and her father, Robert King—the one I thought was the King. I had to get into those files, and I would surely do that tonight.

That plan failed, however, when I peered in the window and saw Abigail Clark lurking about the office, seeming to do nothing but become a nuisance to me. I would never get the files if she lurked the office like a prowling lion.

The next day made the count four days until the election. I was about to greet Deputy Luke that day when Abigail found me on the streets and pulled me into the Law Office, pushing Deputy Luke outside. She took my wrist and pulled me into the Sheriff’s office, closing the door behind her. Feeling a little windswept, I swirled around to look at Abigail, wondering what was wrong, but immediately her arms flung around my neck and her lips planted harshly on mine.

If there was a competition for most practiced lips, it was Abigail Clark. I could very well tell that she kissed many men. She pushed me onto the desk, trapping me into her embrace, forcing me to do her will. She was certainly skilled, I would admit, but it was no sweet kiss, to me at least. When she finally withdrew for a breath, she smiled with pleasure.

“May I ask why I’m here?” I asked, keeping my act going.

“Might as well get a feel for your office,” she said, her hand playing with my brown hair.

A feel for my office…I certainly would have enjoyed it if Abigail wasn’t on my lap, trapping me against the desk. My eyes went swiftly to the filing cabinet in the corner of the office then up to Abigail so she didn’t suspect anything.

I was stuck in this office all day, all attention from Abigail Clark. How I dreaded it! My mind pleaded for the sweet picture of Brianna Prince, but it was completely replaced by Abigail Clark. Now I knew how she tricked my father. She forced her picture and intentions into his mind so that was all he would think of. Well, I would not fall for that.

This chapter is not as exciting as it has been, but you'll get through it, I swear! It'll be worth it in the end! This just shows that my characters are not invnicible. They still have their weaknesses.

Chapter 9

Three days until the election. I dreaded going to the saloon, yet more than eager to see Brianna Prince. However, I was afraid my presence would seem changed after spending a whole day with that whore-of-a-mayor. I walked through the doors; my head hung and I seated myself at the booth unnoticed, unnoticed to all except for one.

“What’s wrong with you?” Brie asked, walking over with her tray held at her side. I made to look up, but my eyes did not go up high enough to her eyes, but to where her locket lay, and my eyes quickly darted away to the window. “Rudy?” she asked softly.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I muttered monotonously.

Brie stood there for a moment, my heart racing for desires I tried to keep away from my mind. How vulnerable she was, just standing there in front of me! My fists clenched, nails digging into my skin to keep my mind focused—but on what? A whole twenty-four hours! With Abigail!

“Rudy,” Brie repeated gently and made to seat herself across from me, but my sins just wouldn’t stop going. I signaled the space next to me, my eyes looking up at Brie. She hesitated under my strange gaze, but gave in cautiously, seeming to rethink her decision.

“I’m sorry I didn’ come yesterday,” I muttered to her. “I was…distracted.”

“That’s fine, I wasn’t worried at all,” she said carefully. “You’re a busy man, running for Sheriff.”

My eyes looked to hers, her orange-specked eye seeming to blend in with the rest of her beautiful body. I must have had a hungry expression on my face, for she slapped my face, hoping to wake me up from whatever thoughts were on my mind, thoughts I didn’t want to mention.

“Rudy, what’s gotten into you?” Brie asked sharply. “Where were you yesterday?”

I looked up, rubbing the red spot on my face where she slapped me. “My…sponsor wanted ta speak wit me…” I droned. I sounded, looked, and felt drunk, but I didn’t drink one beer in a whole twenty-four hours.

“Oh…” Brie trailed miserably. “Rudy—Rudy, you…spent all day with her?”

“In the…Sheriff’s office,” I said, completely dazed, a smile creeping up on my face. “She says—she says to me, ‘you gotta get a feel for your office—’”

“Rudy!” Brie said sharply and horrified. “Rudy, how could you—”

“I was…stuck!” I said with a drunken laugh. “She trapped me on da desk and I was completely…overtaken!”

Brie glared at me and silence fell between us, then she said bitterly soft, “Why don’t you have a beer?”

I nodded. “That’s a good idea!” I exclaimed and my head fell onto my hands as if about to fall asleep right then and there. Brie got up to leave and returned with a mug. I took the mug from her hand without looking at the content and drank, swallowed, and smiled. Before I knew it, I fell onto the table, really falling asleep.


My dream was completely strange to me at first, wondering where it came from.

There I lay, asleep from whatever I drank that day, when the beautiful angel dressed in white came over and helped me to my feet. I easily obeyed for it was Brianna Prince, smiling charmingly down upon me. “It’s alright, Bradley,” she said. “It’s alright…”

Then her face turned into the King, her one blue-green eye glaring at me sternly. Her hand squeezed mine tightly and I made an exclamation of pain, falling on my knees to her tight grasp. She spoke, but her voice was not of the King, but of Booker Davis. “What kind of bounty hunter are you?”

I looked up into the face of Booker Davis who still gripped my hand tightly, painfully. He smirked at my weakness. “Bradley Locksley…you’ll die before the elections begin!”

“No!” I exclaimed. “You can’t stop the elections! I must run!” I pleaded.

“No, County,” the smooth, cold voice of Boston Shoemaker sounded behind me. Booker Davis disappeared, and I fell to the ground on my hands and knees. I gripped my hand, looking over at Shoemaker who smirked. “I won’t let you get in the way. You’re too…strong-willed. You do not sway like your father.”

“Become Sheriff, County,” spoke the soft, attractive voice of Abigail Clark as she walked up next to Shoemaker in a red skirt and red vest over a white blouse. “Become Sheriff, and you could work for me. Won’t you like that? You’d be with me all day…”

Shoemaker smirked as I cried out, “Yes! Please! I love you, Abigail!”


“Rudy!” shrieked the voice of Brianna Prince. She gripped my arms tightly, calling out my name. I shook my head. I wanted to dream, to see Abigail Clark again. I wanted—“Rudy!”

My eyes fluttered open and I made an exclamation of pain from her surprisingly strong grip. I squinted through the sunlight streaming through the window up at Brie whose brow furrowed, staring at me worriedly and sternly at the same time. I, then, noticed my mouth was open. I must have been shouting out loud those four words, ‘I love you, Abigail’.

“Rudy, are you alright?” she asked worriedly.

I took a moment to catch my breath and looked up at Brie into her different eyes and my brain started clicking like crazy. My heart raced of excitement. “How long has it been?”

“Two days!” Brie said. “Elections are tomorrow at nine ‘til noon. They announced the times today.” She felt my forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re still hot. I think you should stay in bed—”

“But the speech!” I exclaimed, sitting up with a start. She put her hands to my shoulders, forcing me down on the bed. “I have to make the speech for the elections!”

“Since when have you been interested in the elections?” Brie asked with surprise. “You stay here. The elections will just have to take place without your speech.” She shrugged. “Looks like you got a good chance not becoming Sheriff, just what you wanted.”

My jaw dropped. “But—”

“Rest, Rudy!” she commanded and left the room swiftly, locking the door behind her.

I sat up at once, throwing the covers off of me and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I saw my gun holster, gun, bolster tie, vest, hat, and boots sitting by the writing desk, piled with papers, in the bedroom. I slowly stood up and walked over, stumbling from my lack of practice in walking the past two days. I made it over and replaced my belongings around my waist, head, and feet, then looked out the window, recalling the dream.

Abigail wanted him to become Sheriff, but Boston Shoemaker stated firmly that he would not let me get in the way, and so did Booker Davis. My life seemed to be what they were after before they chased down any bounty. Once I was out of the way, they would be fine. My job, however, was retrieving those gems. When were they due to be transferred again?

I dug through the papers upon the desk and found the newspaper from ten days ago, on Monday 20. I looked for the article on the Shamrock Bank burglary and found the date: Friday 31. My face fell and I swallowed the lump in my throat. That was tomorrow.

I had to get those gems by tomorrow to be taken to D.C. for protection. I recalled my dream again, remembered Abigail standing next to Shoemaker, both smirking at him. Abigail…Shoemaker…I recalled my father’s dead body, flung on the ground by Shoemaker’s gang. I recalled the conversations between Abigail and Sheriff Beauregard Locksley after my father killed ‘the King’, suddenly remembering clearly the quote used, “Rudy County nearly killed my dear Boston.”

I made for the door and turned the knob, but it was locked from the outside. I growled. I had to find Abigail Clark. She was the only way I could find Shoemaker, recover the gems, and stop Abigail from her attempt to steal money from the mines from under the government’s nose, recalling that as well. “Once those two fall into your jail cells, then we can go on to mines. I don’t want the government involved. I don’t want to be caught.”

I rushed to the windows and tried to open it, but it was bolted shut as well. I growled again. Brie was good, real good. I tried to think of another escape, but decided I would wait until Brie came back. Then I would leave and find Abigail Clark. I had to catch them all tonight, before noon tomorrow.

I lay back in bed, fell asleep soundly the next few hours. It turned out to be evening when Brie came back to check on me. She checked for those symptoms of drunkenness and decided I was well enough to return to my room for the night.

“Now, go home!” she said sternly, pointing her finger at me. “Don’t get up until tomorrow morning. I’ll come and pick you up, just to make sure. If you’re not there, then you’ll have to stay at my place another night.”

“Okay, okay,” I said exasperatedly. I had to go! “Tomorrow morning—got it.”

She sighed, her hands on her hips. Her orange-specked blue-green eye, as well as her left, blue-green eye, held me fast. She studied me for answers, but I said, “I have to rest, Brie.”

She sighed again and opened the door. “Fine. Good night, Rudy.”

“Good night,” I said with a tip of my hat and left the room of the apartment. I found myself on the streets in the dead of night. No one was on the road. Only the saloon had lights on, people cheering, laughing, whistling—girls singing, giggling. I made my way past the saloon to the building where Abigail’s office was. I ignored the secretary’s questions and knocked on the office door. It opened and Abigail looked at me pleasantly, a huge smile on her face.

“Come in, Rudy,” she said sweetly. I obeyed and she closed the door behind me. “What brings you here?” she asked, walking up close to me. I noticed, fearfully, that she wore a red skirt and red vest over a white blouse, just like in my dream.

“Who killed the Sheriff?”

Her face fell at the question, going pale as she looked up at me. I held her gaze with my stern eyes. “I don’t know,” she said stiffly. “You’re the one who dragged the news in, Rudy.”

“You can’t hide from me anymore, Abigail,” I said sternly. “Tell me what you know. Shoemaker’s mine.”

She bit her lip, her eyes glinting with anger. “Forget it, Rudy. It’s my business. I will only share with my Sheriff.”

“We all know I’ll win,” I said through gritted teeth. “I might as well assume the position now.”

She shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid not, Rudy. You may ruin my plans.” She stepped away from me for the door, but I grabbed her arm fiercely. She gasped in pain, closing her eyes to ignore my gaze.

“Tell me where Shoemaker is and I’ll leave you alone!” I said, my jaw clenched.

I felt her struggle in my grasp, trying to free herself. She wrestled me, punched me, kicked me, bit me, but it was useless. I wouldn’t let her go. She sighed, out of breath from her efforts for freedom. She glared at me. “Dale’s Cave,” she finally gave in.

“Good,” I said with a smirk. “Show me the way!” I added and shoved her out the door. She grudgingly obeyed. The secretary’s mouth fell open, wondering what he should do, but I only said, “You didn’t see anything.” The secretary nodded, shaking all over, and we left.

I helped Abigail on the horse and hopped on behind her. We started out of town, praying the King was on my tail. If I needed help anytime, it was now.

Abigail’s lip curled as I demanded the directions. I knew the way to Dale’s Cave perfectly well, but I wanted to make sure Abigail was trustworthy. We ran across open plains, through patches of trees, across a few streams, and finally made it to a small cave in the midst of a small wood. We stopped and I helped Abigail off the horse.

“Introduce me to your friends,” I said, drawing my gun and readying it myself.

Abigail obeyed, a bit too well. She took off at a run into the cave. I got my gun at the ready and hurried after her, afraid of losing her. I turned a corner down the torch lit tunnel and came to a halt at the wooden gate. I tried to open it, but it was useless.

“Welcome, Coun’y.”

I swiveled around and saw Booker Davis grinning at me with a few others behind him. He held a gun at me and I knew I was trapped. My gun was pointing at the ceiling. “Put the gun down,” he said and I grudgingly obeyed, throwing it onto the ground.

“What happened to you, Book?” I wanted to ask, but it would give me away. I only glared at him.

“Come, Mr. Shoemaker would like to meet you,” Davis sneered and they pushed me into their cubby hole in the wall.

We finally made it to the other side. They shoved me out and I nearly fell headlong into the floor, but caught my balance. “Why, hello Mr. County,” said a smooth, cold voice. “Welcome to my lair.”

I looked up and saw Boston Shoemaker standing on a staircase into another room. He smiled pleasantly, but his eyes glinted maliciously. Next to him stood Abigail Clark, her face contorted with disgust—not so pretty anymore.

“So you figured out a few details,” Shoemaker continued, walking down the stairs. “As I said before, you’re really getting in my way. I can’t have that.”

“Then kill me,” I dared him.

“No, Mr. County,” he said with a sneer. “Believe it or not, there’s another way of keeping you out of my way and even under my control. I’m afraid that you’ll have to stay here until noon tomorrow.”

I went pale, my face fell as snickering sounded throughout the room along with Abigail Clark’s soft laugh. I made a charge for Shoemaker, but Davis grabbed my arms and held me down.

“Lock him up,” Shoemaker ordered.

Davis obeyed and took me into another room. He threw me into the one cell and locked it. “Welcome ta Mr. Shoemaker’s gang, Mr. Coun’y,” he said nastily.

I didn’t reply but watched him leave the room and closing the door behind him, leaving me in the room alone in a jail cell. I was trapped, trapped until noon tomorrow.

Here's the fun part. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 10

The next morning, I heard footsteps sounding in the other room and voices ringing, talking about their leaving for the elections. I finally heard Shoemaker and Abigail arrive in the room and silence fell.

“Let the show begin,” Shoemaker said and cheering sounded. It was like a stampeding herd as they left the room and down the tunnel. I was soon left alone, again.

I take that back.

“Mr. County, right?”

I turned around and saw a woman around twenty sit on a bunk, staring at me with blue-green eyes. She had brown curls that fell about her face which fell from her pulled back hair and wore a locket that lay upon her chest. It was the exact same locket as Brie’s and the curls were curls I would never forget.

“I’m Loretta-Jane King,” she continued.

My pieces were piecing like mad. The puzzle was nearly finished. I wanted to snap my fingers so it was completed and I could just live my life in peace. Loretta-Jane King had the same locket as Brie? One of them was lying, and I knew which one. “How’d you get caught?” I asked.

“I was shot as our property was being raided,” she said. “My mother died in the raid, my father died not too long ago. My sister disappeared—I don’t know where she is, but I’ve been meaning to find her.”

“You’ve been here since you were a girl?” I asked.

She looked at me. “Do you know me?” I didn’t reply. “No, not as a girl. I managed to run away for a few years, but they found me again, saying I would know where to find the King. Well, you must already know that my father was the King. He’s dead now; I didn’t do much for Shoemaker.”

“I think I can help you,” I said, “but first we have to get out of here.” I looked around and saw the key ring on the other side of the room. That would never do. “Wait, do you have a bobby pin?”

“No,” she said, a confused look on her face. “They took them out of my hair for some reason, as if they think I’ll kill someone with them! I don’t understand you thieves and outlaws.”

I decided not to argue with her on that point. I looked around desperately for a way out, anything to pick this stupid lock. I searched around my pockets and jacket, but found nothing that could work. I asked Loretta-Jane to do the same, but she was not successful.

“There’s got to be a way!” I stated, pacing around the cell. Loretta-Jane watched me as I thought as hard as I could how to get out of here. I ended up kicking the lock of frustration when I saw a dog suddenly jump up from behind the desk—a German Shepherd growling at me. I jumped back as the dog slowly approached the cage door. “Um…nice doggy?”

“Is that all you have to say?” Loretta-Jane asked, putting her hands to her hips. She reminded me plenty of Brianna Prince. Loretta-Jane walked up to the cage door and crouched down in front of the growling dog. The dog studied Loretta-Jane for a moment before taking a step toward her, sniffing her out.

“Be careful,” I warned but she just laughed and held out her hand.

“What’s there to worry about?” she asked as she gently called the dog closer. It growled more at the gesture and I lunged forward when the dog made a threatening snap at my approach. I froze. Loretta-Jane chuckled. “Not one with animals, are you?” I didn’t reply.

Then I saw the dog’s collar. It was cloth, which means there must be a wire inside to keep its shape. “Um, Miss King, could you, er, take that collar off of him?” I asked a bit uneasily for the dog was still glaring at me.

“The collar? What for?” she asked, but she gently stroked the dog’s chin, calming him down. The dog got more interested in Loretta-Jane’s attention rather than me, and I liked it that way. Slowly, Loretta-Jane scratched underneath the collar and unbuckled it. The dog made a jump at the sound and started backing up. At the sight of the collar in Loretta-Jane’s hand, the dog growled and lunged for Loretta-Jane. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back, away from the dog’s menacing sharp canine teeth. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly, handing the collar to me.

“Don’t mention it,” I said and, taking the collar, started tearing the thread off the elastic. I used my teeth and pulled and tore at the elastic until a wire poked out of the end. With what strength I could muster, I pulled the wire from the elastic.

“Wow,” Loretta-Jane said as she watched me work the wire out of the collar. “How’d you know to do that?”

Again, I didn’t reply. I took a few steps toward the lock when the dog growled menacingly at me once again. I hesitated, then continued forward. No dog would get in my way!

I leaned down and inserted the wire into the lock of the cell door. I listened intently for the click of the lock, trying my best to ignore the barking mad dog just inches from me. I heard the click and the door swung open. In that instant, the German Shepherd jumped up on me, pushing me to the ground. It growled and barked, drool spilling from it’s mouth as it made for my face. I grabbed its muzzle and held it at bay, wincing as the claws dug into my shoulders.

Loretta-Jane shrieked as the dog knocked me down. She hurried over and threw her arms around the dog’s neck, trying to pull him off me, but she was unsuccessful.

I lifted one of the dog’s paws off my shoulder, sighing of relief from the lifted pressure. The dog stumbled from unbalance and fell to the ground on its back, quickly regaining balance on his four feet. I hurried on my two feet and watched the shepherd carefully, the wire still in my hand.

The dog made a giant leap for me, pushing me painfully against the cell bars. I quickly grabbed its muzzle, not fond of the idea of getting my face bitten off.

There was suddenly a gunshot and the dog jumped down instinctively, looking for the source. I looked up and saw Loretta-Jane holding a revolver in her shaking hand, glaring at the dog in front of me. The dog looked confused at the gunpoint, probably used to his master point the gun at someone else other than him.

I slowly left the cell, my eyes on the confused and frozen dog inside. Then I hurriedly closed the cell door and held it firmly as the dog barked and growled at me again, jumping up on the door. I managed to lock the cell between the dog’s swipes for my head. “Let’s go,” I said breathlessly and we ran out the door into the next room. The cubby hole was blocked. We had to get through the wooden gate if we were ever going to leave. I looked around. “Any ideas?”

“My father was the King, not me,” she said.

I took a torch off the wall and, with a last prayer, flung it at the wooden door. It started to burn, the fire spreading over the gate and, soon, over the whole room. I held Loretta-Jane close to keep her away from the fire, waiting for that gate to burn down.

When there was finally a hole big enough, we ran through and down the tunnel outside. There was no horse. Mine was taken. We had no means of transportation, until another horse sounded and Brianna Prince arrived. “Rudy! I saw Boston Shoemaker and Abigail Clark leaving—”

I smirked and said, “Meet Loretta-Jane King. Loretta-Jane, please meet Brianna Prince.”

There was a tense, silent moment. I was getting anxious when Loretta-Jane finally said, “Greetings, Miss Prince. Nice day, we’re having.”

“Yes, quite,” she said and hopped off the horse. “Take the horse, Rudy. You need it more than I.”

“We’re all going—”

“It can’t hold three people,” she argued. “You two go—”

“I’ll stay,” Loretta-Jane said. We both looked at her. “I know these trees like the back of my hand—”

“Come on, Brie,” I said and scooped Brie onto my lap and we took off. Brie squealed in my grasp, commanding me to put her down but I only said, “Don’t worry. The King will save her.”

She fell silent after that and I smirked. It all made sense.

We arrived at Ranger and into town. The whole town was in the saloon, a line streaming out the doors. Both men and women stood in line to vote. Women were allowed to vote because the population was so small and Ranger needed a more accurate vote than only a few men.

Shoemaker was no where in sight.

“Put me down, Rudy,” Brie said, her voice shaking.

“Did you vote?”

“Yes.”

I pursed my lips. “I want you to meet the King first,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“Why? This is only an election.”

I hopped off the horse and helped her down, holding her arm. “We’re going into the saloon—through the back.”

Brie led the way as I took out my gun. We walked down the alley and into the backroom where beer and other stuff was stored. Here is where we found Shoemaker and Davis. I aimed my gun before they could retrieve theirs.

“What time is it?” I asked coolly and smoothly.

Brie looked to the clock on the wall. “Eleven forty-five,” she said faintly. “Fifteen more minutes.”

“Where’s Deputy Luke?” I asked.

“Out by the polls.”

“Go fetch him.”

Brie left, leaving me alone with Shoemaker and Davis under my gun’s point. Shoemaker smirked and Davis blurted, “Yer gonna arrest us?”

“Later,” I said.

Brie returned with Deputy Luke on her heels. He gasped at the sight of Shoemaker and Davis and drew his gun as well.

“Deputy Luke, glad to see you,” I greeted, my eyes on Shoemaker and Davis. “Cuff ‘em.”

Deputy Luke handed the gun to Brie who took it uneasily and pointed it at them. Deputy Luke took out a pair of handcuffs and walked over. “Throw your weapons on the ground, please,” I said, forgetting that little detail. Deputy Luke stepped back as they slowly took out their guns and threw them at my feet. Deputy Luke walked over and cuffed them together.

“Not so fast, Mr. County.”

“I don’t have time for you, Abigail,” I sneered as she made her way into the room from behind me.

“I do, however,” she overruled. “You’re not a sheriff and, therefore, cannot arrest these men.”

“I can take them in, though,” I said, my eyes and gun steady on Shoemaker and Davis. “I called an officer and he’s taking care of the matter. Where in the law book does it say officers must handle these dealings alone?”

“You two have an election to be present at,” Abigail said. “It’s already bad enough that you didn’t say your speech. Get out there.”

There was a gunshot from behind me. I went completely pale for the shot did not come from my gun, or Brie’s. It was from behind me. It hit no one, but Abigail dropped to the floor, shaking fearfully. Brie took off through the door behind me, throwing the gun to Deputy Luke. I turned to look for the shooter.

It was the King, dressed in her black jeans, jacket, corset, hat, and eye patch, holding a gun at the door. My jaw dropped, yet I closed it when I saw Brie’s surprised expression and noticed the King’s hand start to shake.

“King!” I said, continuing the act. I was going to catch this imposter. It angered me to see someone play as the King when I knew perfectly well who it really was. “Do you have the gems? I completely forgot them in the lair!”

She hesitated, then said, “I can’t give you that information, Mr. County.” Her voice was surprisingly smooth.

“A girl?!” shrieked Davis. I turned, scowling at him to be quiet, then looked back. The King was gone, and so was Brie. I growled with irritation. I turned, looked down at Abigail who still sat, shaking from the surprise shot.

“She’s an imposter,” I stated to Davis. “That’s not the real King.”

Davis took a breath of relief.

“Deputy Luke,” I said, taking Abigail’s arm and forcing her on her feet. “Time to take our prisoners to jail. Would you like to lead the way?”

“Sure would, Mr. County!” Deputy Luke said with a wide grin and shoved Shoemaker and Davis into the saloon room. I followed, holding Abigail’s arm tightly. The people in line stared as Deputy Luke walked away with one of the top criminals and his assistant. All of a sudden, applause and cheering erupted. A chant started, “Luke! Luke!”

We finally made it to the jail and we threw each in a separate cell, taking up three of the four cells. Deputy Luke went to the Sheriff’s office and started making the calls to Shamrock to pick the criminals up. I left and walked down the street toward the saloon when I heard a familiar voice.

“You know, Mr. County,” said a female voice, “you do pretty well for one who doesn’t want to be Sheriff.”

I looked over and saw the King calmly drop down from the roof into the shadows of an alley. I walked over to her, studied her for a long time, though her calm voice gave her away. I stopped in front of her and we looked at each other for a long silent moment.

“Brianna Prince,” I stated calmly.

The King sighed and nodded. “I’m afraid so. After my father died, and I took his place, hoping to avenge his death.”

“And…you did it,” I finished. “What will you do now?”

The King stared at me, completely astonished. “You really think my job’s over, Mr. County?”

“Well, Shoemaker’s been caught, Abigail Clark is thrown in jail as well,” I listed and shrugged. “What else is there to worry about?”

“Mr. County!” The King stated, sounding a bit frustrated, then sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m an outlaw, Mr. County. I can’t exactly stop being the King, or people will notice, then they’ll wonder where he is, then they’ll figure out I’m the King, and I’ll be taken to jail for mur—my crime.”

“Did you do it?” I asked, a bit confused, “Or did your father do it?”

The King shook her head and said, “I’d best be going now. I got a job to do, you know.” She turned around to leave.

“Wait,” I called and the King turned around, her one blue-green eye watching me steadily. “What have you been accused for? It surely can’t’ve been the murder of your sister and mother! Your sister was in Shoemaker’s cell.”

The King paused for a long moment. She seemed a bit uneasy to answer. I knew it was a personal question, but I just had to know! Why was Alana-Dawn King in hiding when her father is dead? “What happened?” I urged gently.

The King took a breath before she finally said quietly, “My father and I have been accused of murder, Mr. County—murder of my mother…and sister.”

With that, the King took off in a flash, leaving me utterly clueless.

This is the last and final chapter. It took lots of work and still may not be finished, but it's what I got at the moment, so enjoy. Please comment on the story. I had lots of trouble with the ending. Did it please you as the readers? There also may be a second book, not sure though. I may just keep this as a loner. What do ya'll think?

Chapter 11

I entered the saloon alone and sat with Deputy Luke. The whole town, even the kids, were in the saloon, awaiting the magic number and the winner for the position.

“Well, Mr. Coun’y,” Deputy Luke said. “It was a good race, but I’m sure you’ll do jus’ fine as Sheriff, prob’ly better than me.”

“What?” I said in shock. “You’ll surely win, Luke. After arresting Shoemaker and Davis?”

“But you caught them, Mr. Coun’y,” Deputy Luke said grimly.

“What do the people know?” I asked quietly and Deputy Luke brightened.

I saw Brie come in a bit late, and went over to the judges. Her orange-specked eye was on me. She grinned playfully and I couldn’t help but smile too.

We waited for the results. The whole saloon was talking excitedly about the election and the show of Shoemaker and their mayor, Abigail Clark, sent to jail. People were just wondering who would run for the Mayor of Ranger when one of the three judges stood up to announce the results. Brie and the second judge sat silently by the judges’ table.

“I got the results!” the judge started lamely. I put my hand on Luke’s shoulder firmly, helping him through this suspense. “It was twen’y-seven to twen’y-eight; a close one!” The people began to mutter excitedly. “Quie’, please! Thank you. We would ask that our runners would make a closing remark to the election after I announce the winner. Now, for the winner! Twen’y-seven to twen’y-eight in Luke Woods’ favor!”

There was applause. I saw Luke go white at the sound of his name. I encouraged Luke to stand up and give a few words, but he shook his head and there were a few laughs about the crowd.

“Well, then, can we have Rudy Coun’y make a remark for us?” the judge asked.

“Of course,” I said and slowly stood up. I looked around the crowd, all eyes were on me. They all looked admiringly to me, the kids even watched me, mouths hung open, eyes eager for what I would say. Then I saw Brie, watching me as kindly as Brianna Prince ever did. However, now I could see the playful glint of the King in her eye. I wondered if I should give myself away as Bradley Locksley, prove that Bradley Locksley was not meant to be Sheriff, but I decided against it.

“I’m very happy for Luke,” I began, patting his back then resuming my short speech. “I’m glad he got the job as Sheriff. I don’t think I could ever do it, regardless of what you all have told me. There’s really not much to say,” I added, looking to Brie. I wouldn’t give her away, and she knew it. “However, I would like to say this: we got a good town going on here. We may be small, but we’re strong. Size matters little. We can catch the top ten wanted criminals if we wanted! We already got one of them! What’s nine more? What do you say, Ranger? Can we keep this town goin’?”

There were cheers about the room.

“Then let’s vote on a good mayor!” I ended and the people laughed and clapped. Brie smiled with acceptance.

I sat down. Then judge suddenly stood up and looked at me. “You show great leadership. I recommend running for mayor!”

There were laughs and cheers. I groaned and Brie smiled from across the room. I think I’ll stick with the bounty hunter, thanks, I thought.


Sheriff Luke now took the place in the Sheriff’s office. The Shamrock officials came by to pick up Shoemaker and the others, expecting the gems to be there as well. When they weren’t, Sheriff Luke came to me in question. I smiled and looked to Brie. She reached in her dressed and pulled out a small bag of gems from her breast. She handed it to Sheriff Luke then pulled out from her pocket a gem covered in purple silk to hide the goodies inside. Of course the King had the gems!

Sheriff Luke checked the bag to make sure the gems were there, and pulled out a crystal. Sheriff Luke and I were a bit confused at the sight. Luke revealed the gem in the purple cloth to find another large crystal the size of one’s fist. Baffled, we looked to Brie who smiled, amused. She took the gem that was in the bag from Sheriff Luke and dropped it on the floor. Sheriff Luke didn’t understand, for it didn’t break, but I understood. I heard the weights inside that gem. It was the fake we used when trying to catch Shoemaker and his gang. We took the fake gem to the mayor’s office, thinking we may need it again and it should be protected, just in case.

We had the election for the mayor two weeks later. Loretta-Jane King ran for the placement against a male competitor who looked much like Abigail’s secretary. Surprisingly, Loretta-Jane King won the election. I would have thought the citizens of Ranger would not vote a woman into office after Abigail Clark. How Loretta-Jane did it, I would never know. However, she was the daughter of the King, and probably had a few tricks up her sleeves as well.

Life went on in its new form now that both the positions of mayor and sheriff were replaced, along with the arrest of Boston Shoemaker, Booker Davis, and Abigail Clark. They were shipped to Shamrock the day after their arrest. Sheriff Luke and I stood outside and watched them leave in the wagon, all chained up and weighted down. It was a lovely sight in my eyes—my father’s death was avenged.

However, life was not to be its new peaceful self.

Sheriff Luke found me sitting at the bar of the saloon again, chatting with Joey Thinner, Big Fred, and the other guys. Luke bustled in here and ran up to me, completely breathless. I was confused and let him sit next to me, allowing him to catch his breath. Brie handed a glass of water for Sheriff Luke to drink and we all waited until he was ready to speak.

“Mr. Coun’y,” he finally said and pulled out a newspaper from his jacket. He unfolded it and showed me the article that caught much of his attention. I read it and my face fell. The paper fell limply in my hands as I finished reading the article. Curious, Brie took it from my hands and read it before any of the guys could snatch it away.

“Wha’do we do?” Sheriff Luke asked desperately.

“Find him of course,” Brie said, handing the paper back. “If he’s around here, we catch him and send him back to Shamrock. It takes a few beatings before the dog’s completely well-trained.”

“All of them are out there!” Sheriff Luke said, pointing to the article. “They’re bound to cause trouble for us again. We’re only a small town. What can we do?”

“We caught them once, didn’t we?” Brie reminded.

“Guys,” I stated and they both looked to me as well as the clueless guys around me. They couldn’t read and didn’t know what was happening. “Brie’s right, Sheriff,” I continued. “We caught them once, and we can do it again. Besides, size matters little. It’s the people in the town that counts.”

“What’s happening?” Joey Thinner blurted irritably.

“They escaped,” I answered simply. A silence fell around us as I finished, “Boston Shoemaker is back…and I’m in his way once again.”

Oh what a wonderful feeling when everything comes out.

And then *sob* it's all over!

Anyway.

First thing.

Count on County for the Bounty! Ridiculous…

So true and funny! It's just perfect.

reached in her dressed and pulled out

dress

um...

something from part 7

I closed my mouth, unaware that it was hanging open with awe.

I think you mean aware maybe.

Let's see,

I think the ending was satifactory. The last sentence makes the ending quite good, and certainly sets it up for a sequel. But the story is done well enough, that you wouldn't nessecarily have to.

If however you did...

You would need to bring in more stuff, the old cast could be the mian part, but another twist would be needed to keep it from being pale in comparison.

Good work.