Adventure in Longwood Day 01

With a shriek he falls to the ground and rolls about hands clutched to his leg. Sure he won't go very far I stand up again, holster my guns and walk up to Mr. Johnson.

"How is he?" Is my question as I lean over slightly behind him.

"Oh...He's not going to make it, nothing I can do, he has lost too much blood." The pause comes from his turn to look up at me, his eye falling to my breast, his entire sentence delivered to that part of me.

"Well shoot, go see to that runner I shot in the leg, and then find somebody to help you get him up to the empty room upstairs, I'm going to go find a pair of ankle cuffs."

Not bothered to wait for a response I stand up again and walk out the doorway and head for the sheriff's office. I draw many a stare and quite a few whistles in the process. Once inside the sheriff's office, I procure a match to light a lantern and take a look about. I come across some ankle cuffs and keys, along with a row of very nice Winchester rifles, taking the smallest of them and a box of ammo with me, the return to the saloon is marked by the clang of the cuffs slung over one shoulder.

Much of the blood has been mopped up and covered with a blanket for now, there is two bodies piled outside for the mortician to show up and collect those, I ask Sally who stands at the top of the stairs where the prisoner is.

"Janet, he is in the last door down the hall, but I wish you would reconsider, both of those men work for Ted McCalbane, he has the biggest ranch in this area and plenty of gun hands. If he decides to come and get his man, we can't stop him."

The name doesn't spark a memory in me at the time, though it should have. Instead I walk down to the end of the hall spoken over my shoulder as I go that it won't be a problem, if he insists he can take his man back, but the sheriff will want to arrest him proper.

Inside the room I find Mr. Johnson at work on the man, his pants cut away and a pair of what look to be scissors probing into the man's leg. Not saying a word I simply walk over to the bed, cuff his ankle then the bed.

"Now, don't try to escape, otherwise I may decide you are trying to shoot someone again and just shoot you down like your friend." I tell him as I move up besides his head.

"Damn you filthy Apache, Mr. McCalbane will come for me and take your scalp as payment for Steve." He tells me between screams.

"Well see your wrong there, if I was an Apache you and your friend would be alive and screaming with no scalps, I'm a Cherokee, we instead like to take a different part of a man and mount it to the wall of our teepee. I have a nice dull knife, just itching to get me another part. Now shut up and let this tired gal finish her bath."

My peace said, along with a lie to keep him complacent perhaps I walk out the door again and head for my room and what promises to be a lukewarm bath at best. Relaxed in the oddly warm bath again, I can't help but reflect, what a way to end the first day in a new town.