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filmtv2022 · 3 years ago

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To the Bitter End: Chapter 15 (FINAL CHAPTER)

18+ Minors Do Not Proceed

Previous Chapter Masterlist

Pairing: Doc Holliday x Earp!Reader

Chapter Notes: Doc & Y/N finally reunite, and together they embark on the next leg of their journey together.

Story Summary: The youngest Earp sibling joins her older brothers in Tombstone with the hope that the new climate will ease her consumption/tuberculosis symptoms and reconnect her family. But as she settles into this new life, will she find something worth living for? Someone who can tame the loneliness?

Warnings: Illness and death (It's really sad y'all... just know you've been warned)

A/N: The Italics sections are from Doc/Wyatt’s perspectives. The timeline shifts a bit here so we are sort of looking back at things that have happened in the recent past.

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In the distance, Wyatt could see a horse riding hard and fast toward the Hooker cottage. There was something dragging behind the horse in the grass, but from this distance, it was impossible to tell what it was. The man on the horse turned to cut the rope behind him loose before settling on top of a nearby hill. Wyatt and the others rushed out to see what was left by the mysterious rider.

As they approached the smell of decaying flesh rolled into their noses. The sight of a man’s mutilated body in the dirt before them caused several of the men to dry-heave.

“They got McMasters!”

The mysterious rider circled back around to deliver a message to Wyatt.

“Ringo wanted to make sure he got your attention, Marshall! He wants a straight-up fight, just you and him. To settle this thing once and for all. Oak Grove at the mouth of Silver Spring Canyon, 7:00!”

“You tell him I’ll be there! I’ll be there!”

…

Wyatt stood at the window of Doc’s room, staring out at the soon setting sun as he spoke.

“I spent my whole life not knowin’ what I wanted outta life, just chasin’ my tail. Now for the first time, I know exactly what I want. And who. And that’s the damnable misery of it.”

Walking to the end of the bed Wyatt continued to pour his thoughts out to Doc who was laying with his hand folded neatly on his chest, taking in the sight of his friend.

“What makes a man like Ringo, Doc? What makes him do the things he does?

“A man like Ringo… got a great empty hole right through the middle of him. He can never kill enough or steal enough… or inflict enough pain to ever fill it. “

“What does he need?”

“Revenge”

“For what?”

“Bein’ born.”

Finally, Wyatt turned back to Doc, staring him hard in the face as he processed what his friend had just said. Making his way to the bed, Wyatt sat on the edge next to John.

“It all happened so fast with Curly Bill. I didn’t really have time to think about it. But I’ve had plenty of time to think about this… I can’t beat him, can I?”

“No”

Nodding his head Wyatt turned to stand from the bed.

“Wait… I’m goin’ with ya” Doc tried to stand, but a violent set of coughs threw him back into bed. His breath wheezed as he spoke, “Oh, god. I’m sorry. I’m sorry Wyatt.”

“It’s all right”.

“What’s it like to wear one of those?” Doc gestured with his hand to the Marshall badge attached to Wyatt’s lapel. Without hesitation, Wyatt unpinned it from himself and tucked it into John’s palm. Moving away from the bed Wyatt made his way out of the cottage and to his horse, it was now or never. Wyatt knew he was likely riding to his own demise, but he tried hard to push those thoughts from his mind so as to not let them cloud his judgement.

….

Back in the room, Doc waited until the sound of hoofbeats had faded into the distance before sitting up and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Methodically, John readied himself. First, he slipped on his trousers, buttoning the front, and adjusting them on his hips. Next, he grabbed a dry shirt, pulling it on and tucking it into his pants. His holster and guns were the next pieces to be added to his body. Each pistol was given a once over before being slotted into its rightful place. Doc grabbed for his boots next, pulling each one on with care. A long dark coat and hat were donned to help disguise his features should he run into anyone along the way. And last, but not least, John pinned the Marshall’s badge to his shirt. If he was going to fight one last time, at least this one would be legal.

Just as Doc’s hand pulled at the door handle, a vision of you played through his mind causing him to think twice about his actions. He knew that doing this could tear him away from you forever, bringing you unspeakable pain in the process. But he knew if he didn’t, he’d still be bringing you pain by not protecting Wyatt. If he didn’t go he was ensuring your brother’s death. And while he knew part of you’d hate him for risking his own life, he was willing to accept that, he couldn’t bear the thought of you losing another sibling.

…

Through the trees, Doc could see Ringo leaning against a large oak tree. Slowly, he made his way through the shadow towards the man. It was clear by the way Ringo spoke that he didn’t realize who was approaching.

“Well! I didn’t think ya had it in you.” Pushing himself from the tree, he sauntered in John’s direction.

“I’m your huckleberry- ” The words froze Ringo in place. “Why Johnny Ringo, you look like somebody just walked over your grave.”

“Fight’s not with you, Holliday.”

“I beg to differ, sir. We started a game we never got to finish-” a quick cough cleared Doc’s throat before he continued, “Play for blood, remember?” John pulled a drag from his cigarette as waited for Ringo’s response.

“I was just foolin’ about.”

“I wasn’t. And this time, it’s legal ” A nasty smirk painted John’s face as he watched Ringo fight to push his fear down as the man’s eye caught sight of the Marshall pin on Doc’s chest.

“All right, lunger. Let’s do it.”

The two men began to circle one another, each searching for signs that the other was making a move.

“Say when.”

Ringo’s hand slowly slid up his side, hovering over his pistol. But before the cowboy could even contemplate grabbing the weapon, Doc had unholstered his gun, firing a quick shot at Ringo. The bullet hit true, piercing the man’s skull. John twirled the weapon before placing it back on his hip. Ringo stumbled forward, wet sounds erupted from his throat as he reached for Doc.

“Come on. Come on!” Curling his fingers, John gestured for Ringo to keep coming at him.

“Oh, Johnny, come on!”

Ringo’s grunts and coughs continued as he struggled against his fatal wound. His gun, now in his hand, fired directly into the ground.

“You’re no daisy. You’re no daisy at all!”

At last, Johnny Ringo crashed to the ground, falling on his back at the base of the oak tree he’d leaned upon earlier.

“Poor soul. You were just too high-strung.” Doc removed the badge and placed it on Ringo’s chest. The sound of rushed footsteps approaching from behind had John reaching for his pistol.

Wyatt came into view with his own weapon drawn. Standing Doc explained what had happened, “I’m afraid the strain was more than he could bear.”

Wyatt gave Doc a shocked look, surprised not only to see Ringo dead but to see his friend upright and out of bed.

“Oh, I wasn’t quite as sick as I made out”

Wyatt bent down as he spoke, “Good God.” He pulled the badge from the dead man’s chest, holding it for Doc to see.

“My hypocrisy only goes so far.”

“All right. Let’s finish it.”

“Indeed, sir. The last charge of Wyatt Earp and his immortals.”

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You weren’t sure how or when you’d made it back to your bed, but the feeling of cotton rubbing against your skin told you where you were even before your eyes opened. Allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim morning light of the room, you scanned the space taking in the sounds of people moving about in the house as you did so. This morning your body felt marginally stronger than it had in days, and you decided to take advantage of the newfound energy. Sitting up slowly you held onto the bedpost to help you hoist yourself from the mattress. Your housecoat hung on the coat rack next to the bed, grabbing it you pulled the soft fabric around your body as you shuffled in small steps towards the door.

The smell of freshly made eggs wafted in your direction as you cracked the door open. The sound of it moving in its hinges caused everyone’s head to turn towards you. At the table sat Virgil, Allie, Louisa, Mattie, and the nurse. Victoria. You flashed them a small smile as you continued your slow amble to the table. Seeing your legs were still shaky, Virgil stood to help guide you to the empty seat at the table.

Sitting down, you took a minute to observe the people around you. Your family members all shared the same dark circles under their eyes, clearly, they hadn’t managed to get a good night of sleep. You felt guilty for a moment as the realization hit that you were likely part of the reason for their sleepless nights.

Coming up behind you Virgil sat a small plate of food in front of you along with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Thanks, Virg.” You reached for the silverware finding it a bit of a struggle to hold the utensil still as you stabbed at a bite of egg. The food burned on the way down your throat, not because of heat, but because the tender flesh of your esophagus was raw from your near-constant coughing. The coffee smelled wonderful, but you thought better of picking it up. The last thing you wanted was to add burns to your list of ailments.

The six of you ate quietly for several minutes before you felt the flash of pain thrum through your chest. The pain was quickly followed by the all too familiar squeeze of lung spams. The force of the spams crumpled you in your seat, small droplets of blood dripped onto the plate of food in front of you. Virgil moved like lightning to your side, he reached out to help you stand as the fit continued to rack your body. He would have given anything to pick you up and move you back to the bed, but his damned arm kept him from doing so. The pair of you stumbled back into the bedroom, your body all but falling into the mattress when you were close enough. Finally, after what felt like hours, your body began to relax again. Your lungs settling enough to let you get in a few deeper breaths. Staring at the ceiling you could hear Virgil shift a chair so that he could sit next to the bed without having to move you.

“Y/N, we need to talk” Virgil’s voice was somber and resigned, you knew what was coming next, and yet it didn’t stop the emotions.

“I know, it's time-” you paused to collect yourself slightly before resuming, “It’s just… are you sure we can’t wait for them a little bit longer?”

Virgil’s lack of response was answer enough.

“Just promise me this Virg. Promise me you’ll bring him to me as soon as you can? And… if… promise me you’ll put us to rest together.”

“Of course, I promise you Y/N, I’ll make sure the world will always know how much you loved…love each other.”

Screwing your eyes shut, tears began to pour as you listened to Virgil leave to talk with Victoria. You could hear Allie, Louisa, and Mattie packing up your belongings. No conversation passed between them, but everyone once in a while one of them would press a gentle kiss to your temple.

As each one finished their task within the room they came to your bed, and whispered what would likely be their final goodbyes to you. You watched unsurprised as Mattie high-tailed it out of the room after she finished packing your jewelry away. Allie was the first to speak to you, her soft voice cracked with emotion as she spoke, “Y/N, I am so blessed to call you my sister. I’ll love you forever my sweet girl.” You could barely speak, the muscles of your throat tense with emotion. Allie clearly wasn’t ready to leave yet as she sank into the seat Virgil had used earlier.

“Virgil is so blessed to have you, Allie.Thanks for loving him. A girl couldn’t ask for a better sister.”

Louisa’s small frame pressed into the empty space next to you on the other side of the bed. Her gentle fingers brushed your hair out of your face as she looked deeply into your eyes. She had begun to shake her head ‘no’ as she struggled to find the right words.

“I don’t know what to say Y/N. Having you in my life has been the most wonderful thing. I thank God every day for the time I got to spend with you and Morgan.”

“He loved you so much, Louisa. And god, we were the lucky ones, to get to have you in our lives.”

The three of you sat in silence as you cried. It wasn’t until you heard the door creak again that you realized Mattie had come back into the room.

“Ladies, would it be possible for me to have a minute alone with Y/N?” Louisa and Allie both looked to you to see if this was okay, you nodded your head in affirmation.

Once the others were out of the room, Mattie sat down in the chair next to the bed. She didn’t speak, instead, she sat staring at her hands. It was clear she was struggling with something.

“It’s okay, Mattie. You don’t have to-”

“No, it’s not okay Y/N. I’ve been thinkin’ about this a lot since we left Tombstone, and I need to apologize.”

Not wanting to run her off you waited with great patience as she tumbled the words she wanted to say through her mind one more time.

“Y/N, I’ve been terrible to you since we met. And honestly, I have no good reason for my actions. Your illness terrifies me, but that’s no excuse for the way I’ve treated you. I think it was easier to blame you for the problems between me and Wyatt than it was to accept the fact that he and I were never destined for a long and happy life together. And to see you with Doc, it only made me resent you more. The love you two have, that’s the kind of love every person hopes to find, and it burned me to know that I didn’t have it. Y/N, I am so deeply sorry. Seeing you face down this illness with such strength and grace has shown me just how weak I really am, and god, I wish I could find a way to make myself into half the woman you are, but I’ll never be that. I’ll always just be the addict who found herself a man that could never truly love her back. Your brother is a wonderful person, and I know I’ve hurt him too with the drugs and the way I’ve treated you. If I could take it all back, I would, in heartbeat, but I can’t. So, for what it’s worth coming from me, I’m truly sorry Y/N. You never deserved the cards you’ve been dealt in life, and I am sorry for throwing more obstacles in your way. I understand if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive, but I couldn’t let you leave here without at least hearing these words.”

You were stunned, to say the least. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined hearing those words from Mattie. Part of you instinctually wanted to push her aside, as you’d never before been able to believe a word that came out of her mouth. But this was different, and you could sense it in the way she spoke. These words were truthful, perhaps the most honest thing Mattie had ever spoken.

“I forgive you, Mattie.” The simple words brought heaving sobs from the blonde woman sitting beside you. Her hands reached out to clutch yours as she let herself give into the remorse coursing through her.

It was only Virgil’s arrival at your door that ended the embrace. Mattie stood at the sound of your brother coming into the room.

“It’s time Y/N girl.”

“Alright. I’m ready.”

The two of you made your way to the carriage that sat out front. Your bags had already been neatly packed inside. As the driver snapped the reins you smiled and waved at the women standing on the porch. They waved back, you could read the sadness in their bodies. Their shoulders slumped as they watched you ride away. You wished they could come with you, but a sanitorium was no place for them to see. Virgil sat beside you holding your hand as you continued to let the tears fall from your eyes.

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The trip into Glenwood beat your body to hell, every bump in the road sent shockwaves of pain through your bones. And the intake process only furthered your exhaustion. By the time you were wheeled to bed your body was ready to give out. A pair of doctors helped lift you into bed, and pulled the covers over you before they walked away.

“Y/N, I’m not going anywhere yet, but the doctors want to talk with me in their office. Is that okay?”

“Yes, it’s okay Virg. I’m not going anywhere yet either.” You huffed a small laugh at your own joke. Virgil shook his head at you as he pulled the privacy curtain shut around your bed.

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You weren’t sure how much time had gone by, but a sudden influx of voices moving past your bed caught your attention, dragging you from your sleeping state.

Turning on your side you saw that another bed had been moved flush with yours. The head and footboards attached firmly together so as to prevent the mattress from slipping apart. But more importantly, laying next to you in his beautiful maroon robe was John. His eyes were closed, but you could hear the whistle of his breathing. Mustering every ounce of energy you had, you slid yourself closer to your husband. Someone had placed a blanket over the top of both of you, allowing you to share the same space fully without any obstacles. Once you were flush with his side you allowed your legs to tangle with his, and your arm to stretch across his chest. The feeling of his warm body next to yours was comforting in a way that could never be fully explained. And there you stayed for the remainder of the night. Occasionally, you would wake to the sound of a nurse coming to check on you both, but that was perfectly okay with you. You had John back in your arms, and for the time being, everything was right with the world.

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The feeling of John running his hand along your arm woke you the next morning as dim sunlight streamed through the windows. Tipping his head down, Doc pressed his lips to your crown, inhaling the scent of you. Threading your fingers with his, you brought his hand to your lips, placing delicate kisses on each knuckle.

“Goodmorning, Mr. Holliday.”

“Goodmorning, Mrs. Holliday.”

“You made it back”

“Just like I promised, darlin’ ”

The two of you shared a deep unspoken need to be near one another, and even though little space existed between yourselves, you sought to close the remaining distance. Your hands roamed each other’s bodies, relishing every needy sound that poured from your bodies, as you turned to capture his lips with yours. You tried to keep your wits about you, being that only a curtain separated you from the rest of the room. It had only been a handful of weeks, but the time away had felt like centuries. No amount of time in each other’s embrace was ever going to be enough, but you were grateful for every second you were given. Too soon for your liking, a nurse came to check on you both during their morning rounds.

Being an intelligent woman, the nurse cleared her throat loudly before pulling back the curtain, and entering your space, giving you each time to situate yourself with a touch more modesty. Though modesty was relative, John’s hand still rested on your breast as the nurse greeted you both.

“Morning all, I was just stopping by to check in and deliver some food for you both. Oh, also, Wyatt says he will be stopping by later to pay you both a visit.”

Setting the tray of food down on the cart next to the bed, the woman began the slow process of helping both you and Doc into a sitting position before wheeling the cart next to the bed and swinging the arm out over you so that the food was within reach.

“I’ll be back later for the trays, enjoy.”

Now that you were seated your eyes fell on John’s profile. It was simultaneously disquieting and comforting to see his illness painted so clearly across his beautiful features. Tucking your heels to the back of your thighs, you twisted to allow your side to press into Doc. His arm came to rest along the back of your shoulders holding you tight to his body yet again. With his opposite hand, he picked up the spoon in front of him, dipping it into the oatmeal on the tray, his hand shaking as he brought the utensil to his mouth. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed the food.

With just a single bite consumed, John placed the spoon back down on the tray, a small clink accompanied the movement. His hand, now free, reached for yours, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. The tender moment was cut short by a searing bout of coughing that tore through your body. John tried desperately to hold you still as you rode it out, the action sapping him of his own small reserve of energy.

Panting, you let your body slump against John, as the sounds of fellow dying people murmured through the room.

“What do you think they would’ve been like…our children?” Your voice was timid and tired.

Blowing a small huff of air out of his nose, Doc took a moment before responding, “They would have been the most wonderful little hellions to grace the earth… and I can tell you one thing for certain, our daughter would’ve been the most tenacious and beautiful soul. With a true propensity for speaking her mind.”

“She'd of had you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Just like her mother in every way.”

The two of you shared a small laugh at the thought of Doc waiting on your daughter hand-and-foot.

“And our son?” It was John who asked the question this time.

“Hmm, he would’ve been so deeply kind, courageous, and loyal, like his father.-” You took a look at John’s face as he contemplated what you’d said, conflict touched his features mixing the emotions together. You continued on, this time bringing a touch of humor to the table, “But I fear your lack of self-preservation would have rubbed off on both our children.”

Laughter came a bit stronger this time as John quipped back, “Now admit it darlin’, you didn’t disagree with hellion as a fitting term for our children.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I did sell my soul to the devil after all.” Leaning up you kissed him lightly before settling back into his side, his fingers spinning the ring on your hand. The conversation fell quiet for several minutes, both of you lost in deep thought.

John broke the barrier again with his confession, “Before you, I never could have imagined having a family of my own, and now, it burns me that I’ll never get to experience it with you. I’ll never get to see you round with my child. That I’ll never get to hold our babies in my arms… that might be the cruelest thing of it all.”

“You would have been the most wonderful father John.”

“Y/N, our children would have been blessed beyond measure to have you as their mother.”

Leaning down Doc brushed your lips together, your noses bumping gently before he pressed himself to you. The kiss deepened as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the taste of you. His hands found their way into your hair, gripping the soft strands tightly as he struggled to keep his breathing steady. No matter his desire, John’s body finally lost the battle to stay connected to you. His lungs gave a great heave, sending a new layer of sweat to the surface. With a groan Doc fell back against his pillows, trying to shield you from his agony, but you wouldn’t let him. Instead, you held him tight, drawing comforting shapes on his shoulders as he rode the wave. As his body calmed, you helped him slide down onto the bed, tucking yourself into his side.

Time moved slowly in the ward, the sound of the hospital echoed through the space, creating a dreadful symphony of death and grieving, which you tried vigorously to ignore. Your focus was trained on Doc as he slept, your own body exhausted to the point where sleep was not an option unless brought about by a fainting spell. You weren’t sure exactly what brought the idea to mind, but for the first time in a long time, you truly prayed, begging God to hear you, to cast pity on you and John despite your life choices. You may have been shouting into a void, but the idea of someone higher than yourself listening brought a semblance of peace to you for the time being.

The sky was growing dim when John woke again. A different nurse came by to deliver dinner, and help the pair of you adjust your seating. The nurse had only been gone a few minutes when a hand yanked the curtain back with a bit too much vigor.

“How ya feeling Y/N? Doc?” Wyatt’s bright voice was a tad too cheerful for the space.

The chair Wyatt had moved to the bedside screeched loudly on the floor as he adjusted its position, speaking again once he was settled.

“So, Doc, how ‘bout a game of poker?”

“You sure about that Wyatt? I mean takin’ money from a dying man… that sounds like a questionable endeavor at best.” You couldn’t help, but laugh at the look your brother gave you, it was one of incredulity and happiness.

“You wound me Y/N. I may be shaking hands with the reaper, but I’ll be damned if I deny Wyatt the opportunity to have his pockets emptied by me one more time. Deal me in Earp!”

“Now that’s more like it! Oh, and it wouldn’t be a game without something to drink!” Wyatt secretively pulled a bottle of Old Overholt Rye from his coat, a trio of cups appearing from the other.

“A game indeed. Wyatt, you are a brilliant man.” John’s southern drawl was thick as he admired his friend’s eagerness.

All you could do was shake your head and accept the cup of whiskey from your brother. Wyatt and Doc fell into an easy rapport as the cards were dealt. You loved seeing the two of them like this, light and carefree. It wasn’t often that the two of them had the chance to just enjoy each other’s company. Rationally, you knew that even this visit wasn’t simple, but it felt unencumbered, and you’d take the false sense of safety for however long it lasted.

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

The next several days passed in the same manner. You and John wrapped in each other’s arms, allowing yourselves to indulge in your physical desires in every way your ailing bodies would allow. The quiet moments in between spent sharing your thoughts about a future together that would never be. Wyatt always joined you in the evenings after dinner to play poker with John. Even in this state Doc was obviously the better player. Virgil visited you as well, never staying for very long, but making sure you knew how much he loved you before he left. Having your family’s support should have been nothing but positive. However, in truth, it pained you to have them near as you continued down a steady decline. Each time they showed up it ripped the wound in your heart open fresh, and the agony was simply too much. You knew it was probably wrong, but you didn’t want them to see you die, you couldn’t add that to the list of traumatic memories. The only person who you felt safe hurting at this juncture was John because it was mutually assured destruction, one could not go on without the other.

……..

“John?” Your feeble voice blew over his chest as your cheek was pressed into the crook of his shoulder.

“Yes darlin’ ”

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t see my brothers come in here day after day, and watch their faces sink as I fade away. I just can’t do it anymore.” Your nose prickled with the feeling of holding back tears.

“What can I do Y/N?”

“Will you talk to Wyatt for me?”

“Of course darlin’ ” He knew what you were asking without your needing to express it fully. Even as his time here grew shorter, John Henry Holliday would do anything to ease your pain.

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One night after a particularly rough day, Doc asked Wyatt to stay for a minute so they could talk. John believed you had fallen asleep on his chest, but in reality, you were simply just too exhausted to hold your eyes open, your ears were still attuned to the conversation around you.

“Wyatt, you are my best friend, and I am forever grateful for that. But, I’m asking this favor of you, please say your goodbyes and don’t come back.”

The look on Wyatt’s face was crushing. Doc knew what he was asking was going to feel impossible for Wyatt, but he had promised you he’d do what he could.

“I know what I’m asking feels wrong, like it’s going against everything in you, but I need you to listen to me. Seeing you, seeing Virgil, it causes her pain. She loves you both dearly, but the grief in your eyes is too much for her.”

“But Doc, I can’t just walk away… not now.”

“I know you think you can’t, but you can.”

“Doc, that’s-”

“Just think about it Wyatt, okay?”

“Alright Doc, I will.”

You could feel John’s body move as Wyatt patted his friend’s shoulder before stooping down to place a kiss on your head.

….

The date on the calendar next to the bed read November 8, 1877. The nurses had been using the pad to keep track of your meals, consuming food had become nearly impossible for both you and John. The previous night had been torturous, your body convulsing as your muscles contracted involuntarily. Your lungs felt full as if you were drowning on dry land. Sweat poured from your skin, soaking everything you touched. The world around you slipped in and out of focus, your only anchor point being the familiar sensation of John by your side. John was no better off. He too was tumbling into the abyss as pain clouded his mind. The fluid in his lungs was enough to make his breathing a wet gurglet. His coughs were unlike anything you’d heard before, the sound genuinely terrifying. His damp skin white hot with fever. The pressure of your body clinging to his was his only reminder of reality. Speaking was a struggle, so you both relied on gentle touches to communicate with one another. John lightly traced the back of your hand as it rested on his chest, while you rubbed a figure eight on the chest of his chest.

You weren’t sure what time it was, but the zing of metal on metal clanked in your ears as someone pulled back the curtain. Both you and John opened your eyes, working to focus on the person standing next to your bed. It was a priest, dressed in his church attire, a Bible clutched in his hand as he looked down at your both.

His voice was shockingly kind as he spoke, “Mr. and Mrs. Holliday, I’m Father Feeney. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me reading a bit to you as you rest.”

It was Doc that spoke up, his voice cracking with first use, “You’re already here, so go on then.” Both of you closed your eyes, choosing to conserve the energy.

Father Feeney opened his Bible, the thin pages swooshing as the turned them. His voice possessed a soothing tone as he spoke. The man stayed for a while, mostly reading, but occasionally asking questions. There was no judgment in his face as he listened to the pair of you speak. After some time, Father Feeney turned to leave, but not before praying for God to guide your spirits to Him. The gesture felt both ominous and comforting.

In the distance you could hear heavy footsteps on the floor approaching your bed, they paused for a few seconds before resuming. The sound of a chair being pulled to the side of the bed told you that it was Wyatt who had come to visit. Doc’s eyes opened to look over at his friend.

“Hello, Wyatt. Father Feeney and I were just… investigating the mysteries of the Church of Rome. It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds.”

“You’re no hypocrite, Doc. You just like to sound like one. Brought you something.” Wyatt tucked a small paperback book under your hand which rested on John’s chest, his larger palm covering your own.

“Well, let’s see, where are we today? I’m $17 down to ya. Two bits a hand. Stud?” Wyatt dug out a paper he’d been keeping track of his debt on as he spoke. You could feel John’s body tense as he listened to his friend.

“You keep comin’ back here. I told you not to and I meant it.”

“You’re the only person I can afford to lose to anymore. How we feeling today Doc? Y/N?” Your eyes had opened during the last bit of the exchange easing Wyatt’s fears just a touch.

“We’re dying. How are you?” Your voice strained with effort as you spoke, each word raspy as your lungs fought against the ache.

“Pretty much the same.”

“So now we add self-pity to our list of frailties.” Doc’s quip harsher than he intended.

“All right, Doc. All right, how many cards you want?”

A small pause hung in the air before John spoke again.

“I don’t want to play anymore.”

“How many?”

“Damn you. You’re the most fallible, stubborn, self-deluded, bullheaded man I’ve ever known in my entire life.”

“I call.” Wyatt grabbed the cards he’d placed in Doc’s hands, checking to see the outcome.

“You win.”

“Yet with all, you and Y/N are the only human beings in my entire life who ever gave me hope.”

Wyatt’s head dropped lower to his chest, his eyes trained on the floor.

“I knew from the moment I met your sister that she was the one, the only thing I’d ever truly want”

“That’s good Doc.” The words felt too intimate for Wyatt, but he didn’t have the heart to stop his friend.

“And when you asked me to join you that night at the Bird Cage, I had no idea how much life would change in the matter of a few hours. She’s all I’ve ever wanted Wyatt, thank you for helping bring her back to me.”

Wyatt didn’t have the words, he just nodded his head and reached for your hand.

“John stole the words from my mouth. Thank you Wyatt for bringing him back to me. And thank you for loving me, I know it wasn’t easy. I love you, Wyatt.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

“What do you want Wyatt?” Your question threw your brother off guard.

“Just to live a normal life.”

“There’s no normal life Wyatt. There’s just life. Now get on with it.”

“Don’t know how.”

“Sure you do. Say good bye. Go grab that spirited actress and make her your own. Take that beauty and run, don’t look back.”

“Live every second right up to the hilt. Live Wyatt.” John’s voice joined yours as he added his own parting advice.

“Live for us, Wyatt.” Your eyes brimmed with wetness as you noticed the rim of tears forming in Wyatt’s eyes. John could feel your heartbeat slowing as, your grip on his body grew weak, your breathing already haphazard. John knew it was time for Wyatt to leave.

“Wyatt, if you ever were my friend, if you ever had even the slightest feelin’ for me, leave now… leave now. Please?”

Tears rolled down John’s face as he pleaded with his friend. He felt his own body falter as he watched Wyatt stand from his chair to wrap you in a final embrace. Wyatt’s gentle hands rested on your body as his lips found a home on your temple. He’d never be ready to let you go, but he knew Doc was right, it was time.

“Thanks for always bein’ there Doc. An' thanks for keeping her safe, helping her find happiness again.”

John nodded somberly to Wyatt as he moved away from the bed, and stumbled away in a haze of grief.

Your breathing was irregular, and slow, long gaps of time lapsed between inhales. John’s own body was just behind yours. With what little strength John still possessed he pressed himself closer to you, his cheek resting on the top of your head. That’s when he remembered the book in your hand. Lifting your fingers with great care John took the gift from you, letting your palm rest flat on his chest.

Doc took a good look at the book Wyatt had given him, as he read the title his heart filled with contentment and a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. The book cover read, “My Friend Doc Holliday by Wyatt Earp.”

John placed the book down next to him with reverence before holding your hand in his. Taking in the empty room around him, Doc’s eyes settled on his bare feet poking out from the edge of the blanket. The sight of himself without boots brought a silent chuckle to him. He’d envisioned his own death many times, but even he never truly believed that it would come to take him in this way… in bed, with the great love of his life held in his arms, finally at peace with the world. John felt your chest stop moving, your hand falling limp in his. With the one thing holding him here gone, Doc let himself self slip away. His parting words to you, spoken with his final breath.

“To the bitter end my darlin’, just like we promised. ”

The End

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

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@sassyactorsandmanyfandoms

Final Author's Note:

An enormous thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read this story. I cannot express how much your likes, comments, and reblogs have meant to me. I have felt so much love and support from you all, and it truly warms my heart. I didn't know what I was getting into when I posted this story, but I can't wait to write more. I am incredibly proud of myself for taking the plunge and sharing my first story. Thanks for sticking around & I hope you continue to check back in as more stories go up in the future.

#doc holliday x reader #doc holliday #tombstone 1993 #val kilmer

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squeakyfir · 2 years ago

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I'm your huckleberry (Tombstone 1993) (Doc Holliday)

Description:

The joys of modern inventions and miracles are often taken for granted. Your hungry or thirsty? Get something from the fridge or make it. You need to go somewhere? Drive or call an uber. Your hurt? Go to the doctor.

Your bored? Watch a movie, play video games, watch videos on the internet, talk to people without ever leaving your house.

Some much time is in our hands... but back in the 19th century... you wouldn't last very long.

Diseases are rampant, gun violence is higher, no modern technology, barely any good medicine, almost all of your favorite food doesn't exist and most of the people are rude as hell. But... That doesn't mean all of them were so bad. Love was not something most people in this time really cared about. At least, in the town of Tombstone, Arizona.

After falling asleep with a nice looking stone you bought at a small stand at the carnival, your whole world becomes the opposite. Six people from the past discover you unconscious and alone in the blistering heat and offer help but it was their help that let you meet the most amazing man you've ever met.

John Henry "Doc" Holliday.

Chapter 9

Previous ~ Next

Three weeks... It's been three weeks. During that entire time, you were still being taught how to shoot guns and were given new clothes to try and fit in better and you still stuck next to the Earps the whole time. You were having a real hard time adjusting and it was starting to show. You missed your family, your dog, your home and your modern technological distractions. At least you had your phone and a way to charge it but you still missed it all.

Right now, you were with the Earps at the Oriental Saloon. Earlier that morning, Curly Bill was held for trial since Judge Spicer came back. Right now, you were at the bar being sad since you missed home while the Earps were playing pool and discussing Curly Bills trial. "So it takes Judge Spicer three weeks to get back to town and he says, "Well, did you actually see it?" I said "No. By the time I got there, Marshall White had already been shot." Then Spicer leans forward and he says, "Well, can't have a murder without a witness"". Wyatt then banged the counter with his fist which startled you a bit but you still remained silent.

"Case dismissed" Wyatt said concluding his story.

"What" Morgan asked in disbelief but then shook his head and went back to playing billiards. "Can you beat it" Wyatt asked. "After all that? Aw hell, who cares? None of my buisness anyway". Wyatt had given some money to Milt.

"God, I love this game" Morgan said cheerfully. "Say, (y/n)" Morgan said, "I sure hope this game is still around from where your from". You didn't respond. "(Y/n)"? The Earp brothers looked up and saw that you still had your back turned to them. You weren't drinking anything and just sat in silence. "Hey, (y/n)" Morgan asked as he came over. He was about to repeat his question but then saw that you were holding back more tears and that your lip was quivering. Morgan quickly put his cue down on the billiards table and when he went back to you, both Wyatt and Virgil knew something was wrong.

"Talk to me, what's wrong"? Wyatt and Virgil were on standby and listening to the conversation. Morgan still wasn't getting a response from you and gently took a hold of your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Come on, talk to your bestie". With your free hand, you wiped the tears from your eyes and quietly said, "I'm never going home, am I"? The Earp brothers heard that sad question and didn't know what to respond with. Being more than a hundred years into the future is enough to say that this kind of living is tough and hard to adapt to. Morgan sighed and said, "Listen. I know that this is difficult for you and everything you once had is gone but were here for you. Remember? We're besties! You and me"!

You looked over at him. "You got me, Wyatt, Virgil, Doc, our wives and I know that Sylvie cheers you up. I've seen the way you talk to her. You kinda act like a child when your with her-"

"Don't make fun of me" you said trying to hide your smile and spoke with a tone that made it sound like you were whining. They laughed at that statement.

"That's what I'm talking about" Morgan said and had his point proven. "Now, come on. Where's that smile at"? You hid your face from him. "Come on, (Y/n)" he said teasingly, "Don't make me coax it outta ya'". You still didn't budge and you put your face down into your arms. "Alright, suit yourself". You heard his footsteps and could tell he was right behind you. "Morgan, I wouldn't do that if I were you" Wyatt warned but you could hear it in his voice that he was smiling. Virgil was quietly laughing from the other side of the billiards table and didn't bother to stop Morgan from whatever he was about to do.

As you got more concerned with what Morgan was planning to do, you suddenly felt two hands clutch your sides and gently scratching you. You shrieked and started laughing but when you tried to flee, Morgan made sure you wouldn't escape. "So here's the solution" Morgan laughed. "If she's being difficult, just treat her like the child she is". You were squirming to try and get away from him but he was very strong. Wyatt and Virgil couldn't stop smiling but Wyatt was quick to notice your face getting red. "Alright alright, Morgan. Stop, let her breathe".

Morgan released you and ran over to the corner by a bench. "You happy now" you asked trying to sound mad but the smile on your face wouldn't go away. The Earp brothers just laughed at you. "I am now. Anything to see that beautiful smile on your face would cheer any man up" Morgan said and grabbing his pool cue to continue his game. "Your such a jackass".

"Oh, I'm sorry" Morgan said mockingly, "You need another go round"?

"No"! Morgan just laughed and went back to his game. "But thank you". He looked up and smiled at you. "I think I needed that".

"Did you now" Wyatt asked.

"Yeah. I've been so busy with multitasking that I started to forget some things. And that made me forget about what happened".

"You know" Wyatt said, "I think you tend to forget easily".

"No I don't"! You looked at the bench. "*gasps* A dog"! The Earps just laughed as you sat down and started petting the dog and Wyatt only rolled his eyes and muttered to his brothers. "See what I mean"? And then he spoke loud enough for you and his brothers to hear clearly. "I been thinkin', maybe we outta open up a place of our own, you know? There's the real money. Build it up, milk it for all it's worth, then sell it off for a bundle and breeze outta this burg with more money than Cresus and ready to live like kings. What d'ya think, Virg"? Virgil didn't respond and took a shot of a drink. "Virg? Why don't you and me take a walk around town and see if we can't spot us out a couple of nice lots"?

Virgil looked at him and shrugged but still looked like he agreed to the idea. "It's workin' out just like you said, Wyatt" Morgan said and then taking a drink from his glass pint. "Goddamn, boys, we're lootin' this burg six ways from Sunday".

"Pretty fun too, isn't it" Wyatt asked.

"Actually, yeah, I gotta admit". It was then that the Mayor walked into the Saloon and spoke right to Wyatt. "Excuse me, Wyatt, do you have a moment"? Wyatt looked up and already looked displeased. "Please, will you just hear me out-"

"Now hold on, Mayor" Morgan said. "He already told you no".

"You tell him, Morg" Wyatt said.

"What about you" the Mayor said, gesturing to Virgil. "You were a lawman". Virgil was on the side of the billiards table and calmly said, "I'm busy. We're all busy". Virgil started to make his way around to get in the right position to hit the cue ball. "Sorry, Mayor, but you're barkin' up the wrong tree".

"You know, you men are makin' a lot of money in this town. That's good. That's good. Good for you". The Earps then all looked at him and could tell he was being a bit sarcastic. "In the meantime, a lot of decent people are suffering". The Mayor then put his hands up in defeat and sarcasm. "But, please, don't let me take up anymore of your precious time". The mayor then walked out of the Saloon leaving the Earp brothers no different than before he walked inside. "Rack 'em" Wyatt said.

"I tell ya, I'm sufferin'. From a hangover" Morgan joked. As Wyatt and Morgan were racking up the billiard balls, Virgil sat on the bench next to yours and rested his head on his pool cue. He was lost in thought and it didn't last long. "Hey Virg, you wanna play another round" Morgan asked.

"No". Virgil stood up and announced he was going to take a walk. They understood but then Morgan asked you if you wanna play. You happily accepted and took Virgils cue and started the game. Wyatt only sat down where you sat and just watched you guys enjoy yourselves. Not long after, gunshots were heard and Morgan quickly dropped his pool cue to guide you away from the window with Wyatt getting close to you. It was the cowboys who shot their guns and they rode on past the Saloon not caring if they accidentally shot someone.

"They never stop do they" you asked.

"No" Morgan said. He convinced you to come back to the game and after a minute, Virgil came back and asked for Morgan to come with him. "Hey, (y/n). Why don't you tag along with 'em"?

"Oh, am I boring you" you asked sarcastically.

"No, of course not. I just got something to do. Go on, go with 'em". You shrugged and said goodbye to Wyatt and followed after Virgil and Morgan. They didn't say where they were going but they then went straight to the Sheriffs office and found the Mayor again. Virgil declared that he would accept their offer of being a local law enforcer and propose a new law. Virgil wanted Morgan to join him and Morgan accepted the idea. Unfortunately, the Mayor wouldn't accept you as one since women were not yet seen as relevant for enforcement. You just agreed to help out in any way you can.

Both Virgil and Morgan were sworn into service and started making new posters explaining the law.

THE MAYOR COMMON COUNCIL

of the

CITY of TOMBSTONE territory or Arizona

Do Ordain as Follows.

1. It is hereby declared UNLAWFUL for any person to carry DEADLY WEAPONS, concealed or otherwise (except the same be carried openly in sight, and in the hand) within the limits of the city of Tombstone.

2. This prohibition does not extend to persons immediately leaving or entering the City, who, with good faith, and within reasonable time are proceeding to deposit, or to take such deadly weapons.

3. All fire-arms of every description, and bowie knifes and drinks, are included within the prohibition of this ordinance.

4. Any person or persons violating the provisions of this ordinance shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and, on conviction thereof, shall be fined in a sum not to exceed TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY dollars and costs, or imprisonment in the City Jail for a period not to exceed five months, or both at the discretion of the court.

5. That this ordinance shall take effect and be in force from and after due publication.

APPROVED April 19, 1881

Both Virgil and Morgan knew that Wyatt would be upset that they sworn into service but they would cross that bridge when it came. And when the time came to announce the law and hang up the posters, people were not happy and even started lighting torches and raising their guns. Morgan made sure you were close by and held onto the posters and nails as Virgil was nailing them into place and the town's people were right in front of you and Morgan, shouting and cursing at you all. "Hold on a minute! Wait a minute! Calm down and listen to me" Virgil said to get their attention and they all stopped shouting. "Nobody's sayin' you can't own a gun. Nobody's even sayin' you can't carry a gun. All were sayin' is you can't carry a gun in town".

The shouting resumed but Virgil and Morgan wouldn't back down. As people kept shouting, Wyatt had arrived and was not looking pleased, as was to be expected. "What in the hell are you doin'? I told you we weren't gettin' involved"!

"You got us involved when you brought us here" Virgil said and then walked back inside the Sheriff's office with Morgan having you be in front of him to guide you inside. "Now you hold on a minute, Virg" Wyatt said defensively.

"Hold on nothin'" Virgil said in a defensive tone also. Morgan had you stand next to him. "I walk around this town and look these people in the eyes, it's just like someone's slappin' me in the face. These people are afraid to walk down the street and I'm tryin' to make money of that like some goddamn vulture! If we're gonna have a future in this town, it's gotta have some law and order"!

"Please, Virg, don't do this to me"!

"It's got nothin' to do with you, Wyatt! It's got to do wi-"

"Nothin' to do with me!? I'm your brother for christs sake! God, I don't believe this"! Wyatt then turned his attention to Morgan. "Talk to him, will ya? Or hit him"! Morgan wouldn't and lifted his coat flap back to reveal a badge. "Ah God, don't tell me"!

"Like you said, Wyatt, we're brothers. Gotta back your brothers play. Just did like I figured you would". Wyatt couldn't believe this and looked at you. You only looked down and away from his gaze. "All right now, you listen to me, all of ya"! Wyatt then slammed the door shut and making you get behind Morgan. "For the first time in our lives, we got a chance to stop wandering and finally be a family. Now, this is trouble we don't need. You saw what happened to Fred White and how badly it messed her up" Wyatt said gesturing to you at the end of his sentence.

"We know what we're doin', Wyatt" Morgan said.

"Okay, fine. Say you're right, say you don't get yourself killed. There's somethin' else". Wyatt then brought up a fact he hated to think about. "All those years I worked those cow towns, I was only ever mixed up in one shootin'. Just one. But a man lost his life and I took it. You don't know how that feels, Morgan. Believe me, boy, you don't ever wanna know. Not ever". Both Virgil and Morgan stood stone faced and still didn't back down from their position. "Didn't even make a dent, did I"? Virgil and Morgan didn't respond and Wyatt knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with them. "Alright". Wyatt then took his gun belt off and shoved them into Virgils hands. "You're both makin' a big mistake".

Wyatt then marched out of the office and rode off back to the cottages. "Does this mean I don't get taught how to shoot a gun anymore" you asked nervously since they were fuming about what just happened. "No. I'm sure Doc will still teach you, but not here" Virgil said.

"I think you should head back to the cottages, (y/n)" Morgan suggested.

"I can't" you said quickly. "There's too many people out there and I can't deal with that right now".

"Alright, come on. I'll take you back" Morgan said. He knew the people outside would probably scream at you and he was well aware that you wouldn't be able to handle that. Virgil said he would continue with the posters and that Morgan would just take you to his cottage instead since Wyatt would probably talk your ear off and bother you. Of course, as you and Morgan walked outside, people continued shouting at you and Morgan guided you to Sylvie who was still awaiting for you. "Good girl" you said quietly.

As you and Morgan got on your horses, people were still shouting but they moved out of the way and you both raced off back to the cottages. Morgan could see you were exhausted and went ahead to let you crash on the couch in his cottage. You said goodnight to him and Lousia and went to bed. It was safe but also tragic to say that you were probably stuck here forever but you knew that the Earp brothers and their wives and Doc Holliday were your besties and that was a huge relief.

You were grateful but afraid of what the future held in store for you but knew that as long as they were by your side, you would be safe no matter what.

#will add more tags later

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queenlucythevaliant · 3 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice (2005) and/or Tombstone. I love hearing your opinions!

I'm going to begin with Tombstone; Pride and Prejudice under the cut :)

I love a good western, but it's Val Kilmer's Doc Holliday that really sets Tombstone apart. Probably my favorite moment can be viewed here, but I'll transcribe the exchange that really gets me below:

Ike Clanton: Listen now, Mr. Kansas-Law-Dog: law don't go 'round here, savvy?

Wyatt Earp, flatly: I'm retired.

Curly Bill: Good. That's real good. [...]

Johnny Ringo: And you must be Doc Holiday

Doc Holliday: That's the rumor

Ringo: You retired too?

Doc, visibly sweating and white as a sheet: Not me. I'm in my prime.

The rest of the scene (and, indeed, the whole movie) is well worth the watch, but this, this is Doc's thesis statement for this scene and throughout the movie. He's in his prime, in spite of the fact that he's got late-stage tuberculosis and is basically walking dead. He intends to prove it.

In this scene, we see Doc match Ringo in a contest of wits as they exchange several rounds of Latin epigrams. When Ringo draws on him and demonstrates his fancy gunslinging, Doc does the same with an empty cup. It's awesome.

As the movie progresses, Doc will prove repeatedly that he is intelligent, sharp, and highly skilled at everything he does. He's determined to be his best, and to show everyone around him just how extraordinary Doc Holliday at his best is, regardless of the fact that his lungs are slowly being shredded to bits in his chest. He's in his prime, even when he slows Wyatt's revenge party down later in the movie due to his illness. He proves it definitively, with more swagger and panache than anyone else.

Westerns are about American myth-making. The gunfight at the OK Corral is a towering part of the myth of the Old West. Yet I love how this movie portrays these semi-mythic figures in their humanity, without compromising on the myth.

Death is ugly in Tombstone--utterly un-glorious--but Wyatt Earp's revenge is mythic, complete with the epic threat, "So run, you cur, run! Tell all the other curs the law's comin'! You tell 'em I'm coming--and hell's coming with me!"

Sickness is ugly too. Doc Holliday spends the whole movie sweating and pale, falling over and coughing up blood. He needs to rest. He doesn't want to rest. Yet in spite of all that, he's mythic. Epic. He's dying, but he's in his prime.

There's something immensely powerful in that tension. Human, yet mythic. Frail, yet powerful. I love it very, very much.

I maintain that the 2005 Pride and Prejudice is the superior adaptation of the source material, even if it's not strictly the most faithful to the text of the book or the technicalities of the period. I got in multiple arguments with my professor on this point when I took and Austen and Bronte course.

The 2005 adaptation dials in close to the inner lives and messy relationships of its characters and never, never lets go. Elizabeth is intelligent and headstrong, yes, but the quiet moments of contemplation, reevaluation, sadness, and forgiveness are where the story of Pride and Prejudice really lives.

Austen wrote a profound intimacy between Elizabeth and Jane modeled after the intimacy she shared with her own sister. She wrote a father/daughter relationship between Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet that has so many layers to it: Lizzy is his favorite, the daughter who is most like him, yet he does wrong by his family as often as he does right. Elizabeth has a very clear-eyed view of her father, as much as she loves him. Ditto with her other sisters, and even her mother, who for all her silliness is actually desperate to ensure safe futures for her daughters. All of this is captured so beautifully in the 2005 version, while even the much-lauded Collin Firth adaptation tends to lose track of its characters' heartbeats, if that makes sense.

I could cite so many examples, but I think the sequence where Elizabeth returns home from Rosings is the best to demonstrate what I mean. Linked here.

Elizabeth and Jane discuss their respective trips. Neither is entirely honest with the other. Both are aware of this fact. They do not press each other. They are cautious and gentle with one another, but both look a little sad.

Kitty and Lydia and Mrs. Bennet are, yes, a little silly, but we understand them. Their motivations are clear. They are loud and a little obnoxious, but we feel Mrs. Bennet's fear, Lydia's desire to be important, Kitty's desire to be like Lydia.

Elizabeth and Jane discuss in an undertone while the others make a fuss. I love that.

The scene with Elizabeth and her father is absolutely flawless. We can see both sides, but we understand that Mr. Bennet does not know or care for his younger daughters as Lizzy does. "We shall have no peace until she goes," says Mr. Bennet. "Peace?" retorts Lizzy, "is that really all you care about?"

Mr. Bennet rather callously predicts that "[Lydia's] stay in Brighton will teach her her own insignificance." Elizabeth correctly predicts that Lydia is too easily led and will come into danger in Brighton and that Kitty will be in danger too out of her desire to be like Lydia. We see that she is right and her father is wrong. Yet it's also noteworthy that Lizzy and her father argue like equals. They take one another seriously and it's obvious that they care for and respect one another very deeply.

And then we get one of my favorite little scenes in the whole film: Elizabeth and Jane are lying in bed together in the dark of the night. The candle still burns.

Elizabeth, very softly and with a great deal of sadness: I saw Mr. Darcy when I was at Rosings.

Several beats of silence pass.

Jane, also speaking very softly: Why did you not tell me? Did he mention Mr. Bingley?

Elizabeth sighs

Elizabeth: No...

Another moment of silence. Lizzy rolls over and blows out the candle.

Elizabeth, in the now total darkness: No, he did not.

This is the heart and soul of the story. These two sisters, their difficult romances, secrets whispered late at night. Coming to understand one another. Coming to understand the men they love. Hoping against hope.

The transcendent beauty of the story of Pride and Prejudice is very simple: What if people are not what they seem? What if the man who was rude to you is good all the way down, and the handsome officer is a cad, and even your favorite sister has hidden depths? What if sometimes we get second chances at really seeing one another?

The 2005 adaptation captures this essence as well as I can imagine it ever being captured.

#ask me hard questions #thanks for these questions! I really enjoyed answering them #also thanks for being patient with me i know i took forever to answer

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lovediva013 · 6 years ago

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Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro shirt

I confused, he could not hear me explain and said Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro shirt. I married her not to let her die to teach with my mother. But I was very sad, I was in pain, how could I live, maybe my neighbors knew, at 5 am. So I went to the market to buy things, cook porridge for me to take my children to go to work then go to work. In the afternoon, if many people only eat a piece of bread, they will cook rice in the afternoon and come to pick up their children. My family does not teach like my family. But even my mother taught me very carefully so my parents If my husband said anything, I would either be silent or receive a mistake about me, so I would be too sad to hide in the toilet. But now even my husband does not understand, I think for myself what to continue to do? Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro shirt, hoodie, sweater and V-neck t-shirt

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Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro Sweatshirt Best Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro tshirt My children, I am too selfish. But now I only wish that if Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro tshirt were not born and you were not the only daughter of your grandparents, perhaps you are ready to leave now. My baby boy married my daughter. The result is like Curly Bill Brocius Tombstone well bye retro shirt. Dear baby, listen to my mother, baby girl doesn’t like my father. So I meet any pet stories about that nest. Curly Bill says nothing is perfect. Now 2 babies bring 2 more babies to live separately.The farther away from parents is, the better. Take care of yourself. But they are big and educated, they have officials, but like those who run points, they are not equal. What youth is boring. Read the full article

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tshirtonline79-blog · 6 years ago

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storehottrend79-blog · 6 years ago

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curlysgirl0202 · 1 year ago

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My opinion is he probably was not bad...The biggest issue for me would be his breath, which probably wasn't the freshest since people didn't regularly brush their teeth and he liked whiskey and smoking cigars. In addition, he probably didn't make out that much. He relied on the world's oldest profession since women were scarce.

Because his mustache is well grown in, it would probably tickle your lip and if he can get a rise out of you, he'll start kissing your neck so he can tickle you and get you squealing.

Overall, he may need to learn a little about kissing and start becoming more aware of his not so fresh breath 🌟

#curly bill stories #curly bill tickling #tombstone movie #tombstone cowboys #stories about curly bill from tombstone #stories about tombstone characters #curly Bill stories

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shirttrendingstore-blog · 6 years ago

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tshirtfunny79-blog · 6 years ago

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cyberleaf69 · 6 years ago

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THEM WAS THE GOOD OLD DAYS

There's a fly buzzing around me, as I pen my tiny tale of woe. She came in yesterday, when it was warm enough to leave my door propped open all day long[JAN 8]. Today, the high temperature[and low] will be in the 50's, and the door is shut tight, and my heating-unit set on 78 degrees. Her buzzing sounds angry, because she cannot find a way out. She also cannot find anything in here that smells dead, to lay her eggs on[it has been so pleasant, weatherwise, this entire past week, that I didn't wear any socks][my two-pair of dirty unders are apparently unsuitable][that is what KANDY thought too].

I long for those good old days[a frequent pastime & source for many a STORY], before folks had contracts with pest-control services. Back them days, it was strictly hand-to-hand combat,

and windows and doors weren't sealed against invaders, quite as effectively[remember putting a blanket or towel at the front door, to keep Jack Frost on the other side?]. First line of defense was a can of RAID[advertised on black&white TV-screens about the size of the full-color LED-display on your SmartPhone, using animated spray cans with biceps, and cocky-roaches that couldn't get away fast enough, ending up supine, with X's for eyes,

or shown beneath tombstones with humorous inscriptions]. Then, HotShot came along, and them cocky-roaches quit even trying to run off! Both products belched out streams of toxic aerosol, and left oily residue on everything in your house.

Even in those wonderful 1950's, it was them old folks[and country folk still without TV] that had got things figured out. At the corner store, they had curly streamers, thumb-tacked to the ceiling somehow, dangling down with swell-scented adhesives on the brown paper strip. You could see how good they worked, and little boys like me, sometimes counted them fly-bodies out loud for them lady-shoppers in the store. On a good day, you'd spy one that just got stuck up there; hear her buzzing in anger too, or wiggling whatever parts that weren't stuck good yet!

But trappin's for lazy folks, or for busy store-owners cuttin' pork chops, or ringin' up sales on a register, what was hand-cranked. But even them stores, what didn't use them, sold what a real man wielded in his own home. You bought new ones, two at a time. Them handles was made like them wire clothes-hangers, that piled up at your place, because the dry-cleaner kept delivering new ones twice a week, with your Daddy's work-clothes hangin' on 'em. One mis-calculated swat/swing, could ruin the weapon, and that's why you needed a spare handy. If you threw a battered one away, and you didn't forget you done it, you bought two more on your next visit[to count all them dead flies again; guage how things was going down to the store].

They was sellin' plastic fly-swatters by the time I come along, but ever-so-often, at a country store, up at the lake, where you could buy wriggly bugs and slimy worms and such, that they'd taken great pains to keep alive, and in perfect ass-hauling condition, you'd find a rack full of the real McCoy's. They sold good out in the country, and the clerk kept a private stock of them swatters, just for the locals what depended on 'em. He knew some city-slicker would spy that rack of deadly-weapons, and peel-off enough new bills to buy every 'last one.' That's why the price was double what they charged neighborly-folk; and them old boys in rings around the centrally-located pot-belly woodstove got a good laugh out of it, every time they sold outta them swatters.

For a bright young feller like me, they'd sometimes demonstrate the killin'-power them weapons had in 'em, and their personal efficacy, when armed with one. I got a thrill beyond compare, when one of them codgers quit his whittlin' for a spell, and commenced to battin' them green blow-flies right out of the air, just for my entertainment.

You gotta be quick, and them fellers was! They had deadly aim with that bakky-juice too, when they spied one a them cocky-roaches restin' on the floor someplace nearby!

Attached to the coat-hanger wire-handle, at the business-end, there was a 3"X4" rectangle of screen-door wire-mesh, what lets the air pass through, so you don't blow that sucker outta the way, like you will with a newspaper or magazine. They hand-stitch a red ribbon around the edge, so the mesh don't unravel itself. They's all made in America, and always in small towns where there ain't much for work. You pretty-much use scraps of screen-wire, thread & ribbon to make them; summa that comes from fixin' doors and windows in the Spring[I've even seen rusty taken-down screens recycled for these old-timey swatters]. "A country boy can survive!" Keep your whole family workin', if you was born with a entrepreneurial spirit!

I've seen them chaw-spittin' old men hang that swatter, now with flies stuck on it, back where them city-slickers can buy a used one for double the price of a new one; they'd wink at me, sayin,' "That'll show them strangers how good they work!" It was watchin' these old fellers, how I learned all the things you can git a barn cat to do with one a them swatters too!

????? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co6tQqyjTTM - slo-mo swat https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=otqcVG-nJGI - swat science https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHAmb8fIH-o - barn cat? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fFR2VABpk4 - improved technique? https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/29/science/cockroaches-dying-belly-up.html - belly up?

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curlysgirl0202 · 7 months ago

Text

JOHNNY RINGO/READER STORY CONTINUED...

"Please come this afternoon, Johnny!" You plead.

Ringo looks at you and then turns away.

"Why do you care so much when nobody else does?" Ringo asks you. "You're running a fool's errand waiting around for someone like me."

He shakes his head, gazing at you and the innocence that surrounds you, although you endured horrors during and after the war.

"Johnny, just come for a short while?"

"Sure. Then maybe you'll learn you're wasting your time." He looks down. "You don't know what I've done..." He whispers, almost to himself.

"Johnny, I know about Quantrill! I know about you and Jesse and Frank James!"

Ringo looks at you, uncertain of what to make of your knowledge of his past.

Ringo nods slowly. "That ain't the worst part," he grumbles.

"The Hoodoo War? The Youngers? Johnny, I know. Did you know Doc Holliday is wanted in Dodge for slicing a man from his chest to his..." You put your head down.

Johnny Ringo takes a long look at you. He touches your face and rings your chin with his thumb. His large, calloused hand feels the softness of your skin. He loves the way the light catches the highlights of your hair and gold flecks sparkle in the sun. He knows at that moment, he's never seen a more beautiful woman.

"Doc has a death wish," Johnny answers, gazing at the vast frontier. "I'm sure we'll share a room in hell." Johnny's eyes are still surveying the area.

Unfamiliar emotions creep into Ringo's heart. Your softness and naive nature make him feel vulnerable and a bit uneven. He didn't want to appear weak or lovesick in front of the other Cowboys.

"Women sure are a thing of wonder!" Curly Bill declared on many occasions. "But they make a man weak!"

And Curly Bill was right; women can ease the burden of loneliness men like Ringo endured. But only for a short time and probably because they either needed to accommodate other customers or because they simply lost interest. Whores don't participate in charity and they expect to be well paid for their services.

"You should go home. You shouldn't be here," Johnny tells you, but you hear the longing in his voice. "You're too good for this place. Why would you ride out here anyway? Nothing but a bunch of smelly cowboys!"

You move closer to Johnny and to your relief, he doesn't back away.

"I wanted to know why you just left!"

"Because I'm not good enough for you! Nobody around here is."

Your heart sinks.

"No! I'm not!" You declare.

"Please keep your voice low," Johnny pleads. "I don't want them asking questions about you. Damn fools," Johnny grunts.

"Tell my why you-"

"Left?" He responds. Johnny rubs the back of his neck. "Seeing you lying there looking like some sort of forbidden fruit. You, you...You looked so perfect. So sweet and pure. How could I touch you? I don't deserve to touch you!"

"Johnny," you whisper, covering your mouth with your hand. You struggle to understand this man standing in front of you.

He cannot stand to see you in any pain or distress. "See, I told you. You hang around me, you'll get nothing but trouble. Nothing but danger and trouble will come your way!"

You begin to turn away to leave, but you know you must stand your ground. "That's why? Johnny, I wanted to be with you!"

Curly Bill stands up to stretch out and looks over at you and Johnny. He adjusts his hat and returns to working on helping Pony fix a wheel on the chuck wagon.

Johnny Ringo looks at you and your sincere words touch him deeply. His upbringing and his mother telling him over and over that he must be a good Christian gentleman.

"If you're a Christian gentleman, it will open doors for you, Johnny," his mother would say. "You must become educated and do not let the ways of the world corrupt you."

"You'll be disappointed. Like everyone else," Johnny answers.

You walk close enough to him that your bodies are almost touching.

"Just come to my home later. Please?" You plead. "Just for a visit. Without anyone there. Just us." You put your hand out and take his. He almost pulls away, but savors the softness of your touch.

Johnny nods and then turns away. "I'll be there," he sighs.

You walk fast towards Daisy. After you mount up, you shout,Giddyap, girl!" You ride fast back to your cottage and once Daisy is secure, you head into your home where you freshen yourself for Johnny Ringo. After washing up, you brush your hair, apply some lotion and body spray and wait for your cowboy.

Johnny Ringo returns to his tent. He smiles to himself briefly. Your determination to win him over touches him deeply and he wonders what you see in him. Women always seemed happy to see Johnny and his gentlemanly qualities made him a favorite with the ladies. However, those ladies were often associated with prostitution. Women of the night who offer comfort to lonely outlaws don't ask questions, don't care how much whiskey you suck back or where you come from. Keep the cash flowing and they'll show genuine concern; something Ringo can't seem to live without.

Curly Bill saunters over and flips the tent flap open. "What's that all about Juanito? Can't have a little beauty like that coming over here around these boys! She oughta know better!" Curly Bill admonishes.

"I didn't send for her," Ringo says, feeling annoyed at Curly Bill's curiosity.

"A face like hers could stop a stampede. Or start one! She's gotta know we can't have a distraction like that! You know how them boys are! Specially the Clanton's and McClaurey's!"

"Quit wagging your tongue, Bill!" Ringo barks back. "We could use something soft around here. Get a break from the stink of horse shit and you smelly cowboys!"

"You stink just as bad, there, Johnny!" Curly Bill reminds him as he swaggers back to where he was earlier. He shakes his head while walking towards the picket line of horses.

"Women..." He mumbles under his breath.

Johnny takes his boots off and shakes the dirt out. "Johnny, if the law don't catch up to you, the smell of your feet will." He changes his socks and puts his boots back on. He wants to feel and look his best for you. You deserve better than a stinky cowboy. He combs his hair and puts his hat back on.

Without saying a word, Ringo heads to the picket line. He carefully saddles his horse and heads to your quaint and modest cottage.

Johnny trots out of the Cowboys camp and rides full gallup to your home. He feels the wind in his hair and the feeling of a strong horse between his legs. He tightens his grip on the reigns.

"Giddyap!" He shouts, and spurs his horse into a run.

You can hear the sound of Johnny's horse approaching and you check your face in the mirror one last time. You rush to the front door, but decide to practice patience.

Your heart skips a beat when his knuckles tap your door.

You open it slowly. He sees you, dressed in a pink blouse and tan colored skirt and in bare feet.

He can feel his neck turn hot and flushed when he looks at you.

"Welcome, Johnny," you say softly, a shy smile decorating your face.

Johnny Ringo takes his hat off and enters your quaint home. "This is a nice little place. You must do well as a waitress."

You close the door and smile up at your cowboy.

"I do alright. Tips help."

"I'm sure you do well in that regard. Specially with the menfolk." Johnny can feel his face grow red as he regrets giving you the compliment. "I didn't mean it like that. You're just a special lady. That's all."

"I know what you meant, Johnny. No need to explain."

Johnny smiles freely and realizes how much he admires how free you are in life. You don't scoff or wait for him to explain himself. You just accept him. And understand him. Johnny rocks back and forth on his feet. He stands, with his hat in his hands.

"Here, let me take that," you say. You pull a chair out and he curses himself for not reacting sooner. He sees a vase of fresh flowers resting on your small table and he clenches his jaw. In his rush and nervousness, he didn't bring anything for you. He looks down and then back at your beautiful face.

"What's wrong, Johnny?" You inquire.

He shakes his head. "Just...I can't believe how pretty you are," he says, suddenly feeling foolish again.

You smile sweetly. He moves closer to you, his slurs echoing on the wooden floor. "Please have a seat, Johnny! Do you want some tea?"

Johnny doesn't respond right away.

"How about a little whiskey? I have some!" You annouce happily.

Johnny smiles and lowers his head, feeling a little foolish that he'd rather have whiskey than tea.

"Please have a seat!" You say. Johnny watches you move around the kitchen, smooth in your bare feet.

You grab two plates, two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. You then reach up and take a freshly baked pie from the cupboard.

"I hope you're hungry! I baked a pie very early this morning."

Johnny adjusts himself in his chair and watches you play the hostess so gracefully. You cut two slices, lick your thumb and place the dishes in front of you both. You take a bite and then Johnny, feeling awkward, picks up the fork and takes a bite. The sweetest of the pie, mixed with hints of cinnamon and butter melt in his mouth. He savors the richness of the dessert and slowly sips his whiskey.

"It's really tasty," Johnny remarks, causing you to smile.

"Thank you!" Through the open window, you can hear the whinnying of the horses and you get a wiff of the sweet aroma of wildflowers that flow through the soft afternoon breeze. A relaxed feeling washes over Johnny Ringo in a way he's not familiar with. He takes another bite of pie.

"Hard to believe a woman like you isn't settled," Johnny tells you. "You're a hard working lady. And you can bake." Johnny takes the last bite of his pie. "Hard to believe you're not attached."

Johnny suddenly cringes, feeling awkward. "I didn't mean it like that," he finishes. He takes a sip of whiskey and glares out the window.

"It's just, you're different...I could see that when you were serving us. Curly Bill likes to get a rise out of people." He finishes off his pie and pushes the plate aside.

"More?" You ask, licking your fingers in an almost child-like manner. Ringo lowers his head and grins.

Why is she not with anyone?

He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll take a piece back to camp," he says. "All the boys will be jealous," he attempts to lighten the mood.

"Curly Bill did say he was sorry," you mention.

"Yeah, old Curly just talks. He prefers it when people are afraid of him. He likes throwing his weight around. And often, people move out of his way. But then there's someone like you who just offers kindness. It's not something we Cowboys are used to."

You smile, remembering how nervous and out of place Curly Bill looked when he apologized to you.

"At least he was decent," you say.

"Curly Bill is one of the toughest and bravest men I know. And he's loyal as all hell. He's skeptical of any kindness. Especially from a beautiful woman," Johnny blushes, but doesn't care.

"Curly Bill Brocius is someone who can make you laugh when you're down."

You nod your head, showing you can picture that about the old rustler.

"He wants to settle down someday. He's talked about that. A part of him may be envious I'm seeing you." Ringo smiles. "He thinks he's a lady's man. And sometimes he does lay that old charm down. But mostly he's just as awkward as any cowboy." Johnny lets out a sigh. "He'll always have your back. He's damn loyal and he demands loyalty in return." Johnny adjusts himself in his seat. "I promise he didn't mean any harm."

"I've had my reconciliation with Curly Bill and he was quite the gentleman about it. In fact, I was surprised considering how gruff he was during our first encounter." You draw circles around your plate. "I'm glad he said something."

"Curly's not all bad. He's just got an odd way of showing his feelings." Ringo scratches the back of his neck. "He's someone I can always count on that's for sure."

"Sounds like you two are close," you say, playing with your pie slice, poking it with your fork.

"Yeah, you could say that," Johnny answers.

"This place. This territory. It's really not safe for someone like you." Johnny tells you while he's fumbling with the fork.

"I plan on staying," you tell Johnny. He nods.

"I believe that about you," he answers. "You're a brave lady. Coming out here by yourself."

"Josephine Marcus did it," you respond.

"She came with a theater troupe. And she's a whore." Johnny sucks back his whiskey.

"I..." Johnny says your name. "I'm sorry. You're a lady. I shouldn't talk like that. Josephine isn't a lady..." Johnny says, gazing out the window at the sound of his horse.

You lower your head. You've seen Josephine and how she vies for attention from the Cowboys. Although they enjoy the company of a beautiful and sophisticated woman, Josephine always seemed more childish; a woman who simply lives in the moment, waiting for the next big adventure...Or man to help finance her lifestyle even though her father often sent her money. Her appetite for the finer things hungered for lavish gifts, dresses and jewelry. Johnny notices the striking contrast between you and Josephine; Josie's goals include enjoying life and multiple relationships, sometimes at one time. You see the world through the lens of loss and longing. You long for the calm of nature, the babbling of a brook or stream, the way the sunlight dances on the water in the middle of the day. These things set you apart from women like Josie, who wouldn't want to waste her time hiking or reading about fossils like you do. You find joy in simplicity and Johnny Ringo adores you for that.

"Isn't she with Wyatt?" You inquire.

Ringo shakes his head. "I don't know. I think she's playing Behan and Earp. Although I'm no fan of the Earps, Wyatt is a better man than Behan. I don't dislike Josephine. I don't trust loose women."

You nod your head. You came into Tombstone alone and the rumor circulating included the fact that you didn't have a man at all...Or maybe the men of Tombstone just hoped that was the case.

Johnny sighs and looks at you. You're drawing shapes on the table with your finger, waiting for the awkward silence to end when you think of something to say.

"Are you planning on staying in town long?" He finally manages to ask.

"As long as I can. I'm lucky I got a place to rent at least. I was getting tired of staying at the hotel although it was convenient for work."

"As for me, I sleep under the stars like most cowboys," Johnny answers, almost embarrassed that he sleeps in a tent while you're renting a cottage.

"It's not that I don't or want..." He fumbles with his words. "I guess I prefer the open range to the confinements of a room."

"Well, if you're driving cows, you don't have a choice." You tell him.

"Yep..." He agrees, ashamed to tell you the cows he drives are stolen. He dismisses it for a moment, simply wanting to enjoy you and your company.

"It ain't all bad," Johnny says, wiping his mustache. "It's actually peaceful sleeping under the stars. Even when we got a bunkhouse, most of Curly's boys still prefer a bedroll out in the open."

"Well, I've certainly spent nights in the cold too. Especially right after the Yankees burned everything." You let out a sigh. You also dismiss your memory in exchange for some time with Johnny Ringo.

"Would you like another slice of pie, Johnny?" You ask.

Johnny looks at you for a moment, just taking in your beauty. "No, ma'am," he answers.

Johnny Ringo begins to feel awkward. He shifts in his seat. His eyes wander away for a moment and when they return to you, a sadness shows in them. Johnny lets out a long sigh.

You begin clearing the plates and tea cups.

"Would you like some more whiskey?" You ask.

Johnny nods.

"You're a beautiful woman," Johnny declares, feeling his face grow red from embarrassment.

"Thank you, Johnny!" You answer, feeling elated.

"Not just that." Johnny looks down at the empty shot glass. You fill it and he puts his fingers on the rim. "Thank you," he says sincerely and softly.

"You're welcome." You respond.

"Not just that. You're a special lady," Johnny contio, feeling a bit more confident.

You lower your head and chuckle.

"It's true," he tells you. He's tempted to reach out and take your hand, but doesn't want to seem too forward.

"Johnny, you too," you answer.

Johnny almost laughs out loud. "I don't feel so special," he admits.

"I reckon you don't think so. I can see that in your eyes, Johnny."

He quickly turns away from you, his shame falling over him. He rode with Bloody Bill Anderson and killed a Yankee soldier who was younger than himself. Ringo will never forget the sense of shame and sadness he felt when he saw that Yankee kid die. Johnny Ringo can feel his fear and guilt weigh down on him. So much so, he wouldn't be able to stand if he wanted to.

He was just a kid...Ringo thinks.

And Quantrill shouted for me to fire my pistol. I didn't care if I missed or what Quantrill would do as an admonishment for my bad aim...So, I fired it right into his chest. I swear I saw his ribs burst out! Ringo rages in his mind all while staying stoic...

He shakes his head. "I wasn't always..." He says your name, while he sucks back his guilt.

What did those Yankees do to you?! You scream in your mind.

Johnny starts to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He cannot comprehend why a woman like yourself works as a waitress in one of the toughest boom towns in the west. And why you chose to risk so much when you could be enjoying life with a husband who can provide you with everything you deserve.

Ringo shakes his head.

"A Union soldier came to our farm dressed in a Confederate uniform," you begin. "After we fed him, he revealed himself and proceeded to gather whatever he wanted from my mother." You gaze down at the table.

Johnny's gaze meets the floor and then he looks back at you. The way your eyes light up and the sweet smile on your face tell a different story. A story where none of those atrocious things happened to you... Because when Johnny Ringo looks at you, he sees the light in your eyes burn with a resilience he felt he lost.

"How'd you keep smiling?" Johnny asks. "Everyone I know is downright bitter. Having to start over so many damn times." Ringo clears his throat. "No offense, ma'am." His gentlemanly manner shows at that moment. His respect for you is so strong, he doesn't want to cuss in front of you!

You smile and begin to move your hand towards his. When you touch his hand, he quickly jerks it away, his feelings of inadequacy keeping him from enjoying this moment. He sees the look of disappointment in your eyes and he curses himself.

"I didn't mean anything, Johnny," you say, your voice is full of genuine concern.

He shifts again and looks down at the table.

Johnny sighs. He doesn't feel worthy of your touch...

Curly Bill wouldn't hesitate with you, Ringo thinks. If old Curly knew a lovely lady like yourself showed any interest, the old rustler would be laying on the charm!

"I've taken up enough of your afternoon," Johnny says, slowly getting up, feeling the sting of being forced to leave your presence.

"No, please stay, Johnny," you plead, that genuine concern he loves in your voice.

Ringo looks at you and can't believe someone so special would desire his company. He lets out a small, but hopeful smile.

"You don't give up easily, do you?" He asks, almost smirking.

"No," you answer. Then you shake your head. "I'm a rebel like you," you say softly.

"Reckon that's something we have in common!" Johnny answers, feeling slightly more comfortable.

You reach your hand out and this time he takes it ..

He can't believe how soft your hands feel in his rough and calloused ones. He recalls the time he enjoyed intimacy with you and he can feel the tugging of his shame on his heart.

You pour two glasses of whiskey and you lift your glass and say, "here's to you, Johnny Ringo!"

Johnny smirks and takes a drink. Then he lifts his glass and says, "here's to the most beautiful woman I've ever met." He clinks his glass and sips his whiskey, wishing he never said that.

Johnny Ringo begins to feel tipsy. He worries he may lose control with a woman like yourself. Because he can feel the effects of the rotgut whiskey, he starts to fear he will quickly lose control. He clenches his fists and tries to regain his self control, all maintaining a stoic demeanor.

"Johnny," your voice is full of sincere gratitude.

"It's true. I can't imagine why you'd want to waste your time with someone like me." Johnny finishes his whiskey and glances out the window. He's torn between wanting to leave and feel the safety of solitude and the other part of him wants to take you in his arms and kiss you...Then make love to you. He wants to feel your body trembling against his while he brings you pleasure. When he visualizes having you in an intimate setting, he becomes overwhelmingly aroused; he also experiences a strong sense of shame for seeing you in such an intimate setting.

Johnny stands up and barely manages to release the words:

I should go...

You stand in front of the Shakespearean quoting gunfighter. You're no stranger to adversity and as a proud Confederate, you saw your world sink to its knees and everything your family built dissolved in just a matter of hours when those dirty Yankees plowed through the villages.

Your eyes lock with Johnny's and the two of you move close. Johnny Ringo pulls you close and lifts your chin. He slowly and smoothly with the overwhelming touch of a gentleman kisses you.

You wrap your arms around him the two of you fall into a sweet embrace. Johnny sees a million stars while kissing you!

For the first time in what seems like forever, Johnny Ringo feels a peace wash over him; the dam that blocked his heart breaking down from your genuine love for him. When the two of you pull away, his eyes lock with yours.

"You're something else, you know that?" His soft voice flows through your welcoming ears.

An overwhelming sensation floods your soul and you find it difficult to speak. "Johnny," you whisper.

Johnny says your name while he removes a strand of hair away from your face.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he says softly, kissing your forehead.

"I think I should head back before Curly Bill's crew starts wondering," he says with longing in his voice.

"Please don't go," you plead.

Johnny sighs, feeling his manliness throbbing. All he wants to do is make love to you, but he's torn. His tendencies to value women creeps in and he refuses to treat you like a chippie or a prostitute. He would like to plan a special encounter with you that includes the respect you so richly deserve.

Johnny looks down at you.

"I promise I'll be back." He says firmly. "And," he begins, holding his hat in his hands. "If you see me on the street, you don't need to talk to me...I wouldn't want anyone thinking anything about you that isn't true." He looks down in shame. For you to remain discreet because of him causes him great discomfort.

"I'll be very proud to speak to you," you answer.

Johnny blinks, not believing your words...He stands and looks at you.

"You would?" He asks.

"Of course I would!" You respond with that smile he loves!

Johnny smirks, still not believing the perseverance you've demonstrated. Most women wouldn't handle themselves with the grace and integrity you do. And to tolerate Curly Bill's harshness only to accept his sincere apology shows the depth of your care.

"That means a lot...More than you know. But for your own safety, be careful. They'll be plenty of folks out to tell you to stay away from me." His eyes grow sad again. He takes your hands and almost absent mindedly kisses them. Your heart soars. Then you take his hands and kiss his knuckles. He tries to pull away, almost in shame. His hands killed...His hands shoveled manure, robbed and rustled cows.

"You don't have to do that..." He says, his voice fading to a whisper. He pulls his hands away in shame.

"I want to," you respond.

He shakes his head while gazing at the floor.

"You're really special, you know that?" He finally says. "You really care, don't you?" Johnny Ringo feels a warmth flow through his body, so comforting, he feels unsettled and confused. His heart wrestles with the powerful emotions you stirred in him.

Johnny gazes into your eyes, the raw emotions flooding through him. He cannot recall a time when he felt safe, warm and welcome. He longs for your touch and the softness you demonstrate. He imagines touching your soft skin, letting his fingers explore your body while he takes his time soaking in your beauty, kindness and grace.

To your surprise, Johnny pulls you close, cups your face and kisses you passionately. You wrap your arms around him and the two of you become lost in the purity of the moment. He pulls away and kisses your forehead.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Johnny looks into your eyes with his intense gaze telling you if he stays, he may lose control...You nod. He mounts his horse, tips his hat to you and rides into town for some whiskey.

You look out the window and breathe in the fresh air. You ruffle your hair and smile to yourself. You embrace your small triumph that you got Johnny Ringo, the deadliest gunfighter since Cole Younger to drop his guard just long enough for a kiss. You can still feel his lips on yours and the softness of his mustache, the aroma.a of horses in his clothes and the way he looked into your eyes when he said, "thank you..."

You let out a chuckle to yourself. Then you head outside to take care of Daisy.

"Hey girl... Guess what?" You ask, nudging her nose. "He kissed me..." You brush her coat and change her water and spend the rest of your day off planting in your garden and doing laundry. All before you take a bath and prepare for your day back at work tomorrow.

While you busy yourself planting carrots, peas, potatoes, green beans and onions, Ringo walks with his signature gait towards the Dragoon Saloon.

"Evening, Ringo," drawls Crooked Jay while he fills glasses for thirsty customers.

"Whiskey," Ringo says, his voice just a bit lighter. Jay glances over, noticing the subtle change in Ringo's demeanor. "You're looking a little flushed, cowboy, what's with that? Better be careful you don't show it too much 'round here. Folks'll be wondering why you ain't somber." Jay pours whiskey.

"Nevermind, Jay" Johnny answers. "Just been in the sun too long."

"Zat so?" Crooked Jay answers, spitting on the floor. Ringo glances over. "There's a spittoon for that. You really gotta spit on your own floor?" Ringo shakes his head.

"Hell, it ain't no matter. Most folks miss that damn bucket anyhow. Ain't nothing..." His voice fades to a whisper while his greedy fingers grab the pennies and quarters Ringo put on the bar.

"Got a new chippie," Jay says, sticking a half chewed cigar in his mouth. He gnaws the cigar while he takes more orders for whiskey and beer.

"I ain't interested, Jay," Johnny answers, staring into his glass. He begins to feel that familiar dark sensation creep through his body like a damn curse. He lowers his head and remembers he didn't feel that darkness at all while with you...

"You ain't even seen her yet. Come all the way from New Orleans. That don't make no damn sense." Jay shakes his head.

Does it really show? Ringo thinks to himself...The time he spent with you clearly shows on his face. He cannot recall a time when he felt more alive than when he kissed you. At the same time, the last thing he wants is for folks to see him going soft. Enemies can sense when a man starts to lose his tough edge and nothing can weaken a man more than a beautiful woman...

"Aw, come on son," Crooked Jay answers. "Her name is Selena. She's been busy giving boys like you a taste of home sweet home. Hell, she'll make ya feel human again!"

Johnny sucks back his whiskey. "I said no, Mr."

"Suit yourself, cowboy. Y'all missing out!"

No I'm not... There's no one like YN..." Ringo says to himself.

Johnny puts a few coins on the bar, adjusts his hat and leaves. Your face appears whenever he closes his eyes. He smiles to himself while walking to the livery.

He saddles his horse and heads back to camp.

"There he is!" Ike Clanton drawls, stumbling, holding a bottle of whiskey.

Johnny dismounts at the picket line and moves toward his tent.

"You all done with that little cunt we saw earlier?" Ike takes another swig of whiskey.

Before Ike can say anything else, Ringo throws a punch at the smaller cowboy. Ike stumbles backwards. He shakes his head to get his bearings.

"What the hell that for?" Ike groans.

"You ever talk about her like that again, I'll kill you, Ike!" Johnny growls.

"Calm down, Ringo!" Ike snaps, holding his cheek and wiping blood from his lips. Billy Clanton rushes over and helps Ike to his feet. Johnny stands almost motionless, ready for a confrontation. Your beauty burned on his brain softens him minorly. He knows he can bust Ike up on Ike's best day.

"Go easy, Ringo!" Billy Clanton barks.

"Stay out of this!" Johnny grunts. Johnny's intense and dark gaze pierces both Clanton brothers. The boys back away, knowing how unpredictable Johnny can be, especially when a woman is involved.

Curly Bill, along with McMasters and Stilwell swagger over.

"What the hell's going on here?!" Curly Bill shouts.

"Y'all cool off!"

Johnny's eyes stab Curly Bill with such intensity, Curly Bill adjusts his hat and puts his hands on his hips.

Curly Bill signals for the Clanton's to back away, they retreat towards the chuck wagon. Stilwell and McMasters look at Curly Bill, curious as to how he'll handle the situation. Their gazes move from Ringo to Curly.

"That's what women do," Curly Bill begins. "Especially a beautiful one like her. They make a man lose his head real quick."

"Enough, Bill," Ringo answers. Without looking at anyone, Johnny heads to his tent. Thoughts of you whirl through his mind. He can see you eating pie with him, your sweet smile breaking his walls down and oh, that kiss! Johnny composes himself and retreats to his tent. He can feel his body throbbing and he closes his eyes while sitting up, looking out the open flap. He imagines you riding into camp and surprising him by sneaking into his tent. The two of you make love without guilt or shame. He can feel your warm body close to his and he knows he needs to relieve himself at some point.

When everyone is sleeping, Johnny begins to decompress his insatiable appetite. While he massages himself, he sees your face through a frame of exploding stars. He relives the moment of the kiss you shared before he feels an explosion of ecstasy. Johnny suddenly feels guilty for participating in such an act, but you have driven him to a place where he feels wonderfully helpless to stop your pursuit of him. He carefully cleans himself up and falls into a deep sleep.

The morning sun bathes you while you sleep and you stir at the sound of Daisy whinnying in her stable. You slowly rise and stretch, making some coffee and engaging in your morning routine.

After Daisy enjoys her oats, you brush her down. You wonder what work Daisy did before as quarter horses were usually for work; in fact they were favored by cowboys.

"It's happening, girl!" You whisper. Once Daisy is hitched and ready, you head to work for the breakfast rush.

When you get to work, you notice Big Nellie stroking the back of one of the customers while she helps herself to the leftovers in his plate. You roll your eyes and wonder how a woman could let herself go like that.

Fatty emerges from the kitchen, holding three steaming plates of eggs and hotcakes. He places the dishes on the table, mops his face with his apron and nods at you.

"Thank goodness you're here!" Fatty exclaims. "Been busier than usual! And of course Big Nellie does nothing! Nothing but eat the leftovers! She eats the free chuck and Emmett wonders "why am I losing money?!" Fatty shakes his head and scurries back into the kitchen. You put your things away and prepare yourself.

"What can I get you?" You stand before a group of men you're unfamiliar with.

"Name's Morton," one of the men declares.

You nod,. smile and take your pencil and pad out.

"What can I get you gentleman?" You ask, ready to take their orders.

"You can start by getting us some coffee! We'll all take the same. Three orders of steak , eggs, biscuits. We'd like some honey on them biscuits!" Morton demands.

You take their orders and head to the kitchen.

Fatty looks at the dining room. "Mary, mother of all that is holy!" Fatty grasps the necklace he wears around his neck.

Morton, the same man who helped LG Murphy shoot and kill John Tunstall. The man who targeted Tunstall's regulators after Tunstall died.

"What's wrong, Fatty?" You ask

"That man...He and LG Murphy destroyed Lincoln County," Fatty lowers his shaking head.

"I heard about that!" You respond. "Those bastards shot John Tunstall right in front of his Regulators! Then Billy the Kid went on a rampage with those boys."

"Yes. Haven't an idea why they're here in Tombstone when they should be in New Mexico!" Fatty answers, shaking his head.

"I just took their orders," you respond.

"I'll assist them, young lady," Fatty says, wiping his head with his apron. "Or Big Nellie. She don't seem to be afraid of anyone!" He finishes, fidgeting with the stings on his apron. You smile back.

"Maybe they'll be on their way. Stage comes tomorrow and the train leaves for San Francisco tomorrow afternoon."

"Quit jawing! Get our coffee, girl!" Dalton shouts in your direction.

Trembling, you return to their table. "Yes, of course!" You tell them.

"You forget already?" He fires at you.

"No...I just..."

"Well, quit that damn stammering and get back to work!"

At that moment, the jingle of spurs can be heard. You turn and see Curly Bill Brocius walking in, Johnny Ringo following closely. Billy Clanton strolls in with Ike behind him and McMasters follows slowly.

"Well,that ain't no way to talk to a lady!" Curly Bill growls.

Dalton turns to look at the menacing group of Cowboys.

"Name's Curly Bill Brocius. I run these boys and this damn town. This here is Johnny Ringo. I'm sure you heard of him, ain't ya?"

Dalton and his men freeze and look at each other. Coming face to face with Curly's Red Sash Gang causes the men to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

Johnny winks at you, letting Curly Bill handle the situation. He stands cold, calculating and eerily quiet, letting his stone cold expression, icy blue eyes and reputation do the talking.

Curly Bill tips his hat to you and stands confidently, his arms crossed over his chest as if daring the Dalton boys to do something.

"YN is a special lady around here. Just ask Ringo right here," Curly glances at Johnny who hasn't moved.

"We weren't bothering her none," Dalton drawls.

"That wasn't what I saw, boy!" Curly barks back. At that moment, Barnes and Stillwell strut in, Barnes, with a shotgun nestled in his shoulder smiles at the Dalton's and Stillwell stares with cold eyes.

Curly Bill looks at you. He admires your tough, yet gentle spirit. The way you remained stoic even when he behaved like a horse's ass. But Curly Bill Brocius values loyalty and you demonstrated that to him when you accepted his sincere apology without admonishments or harsh words. And how you clearly care about Johnny Ringo, one of their own. The Cowboys protect their own and anyone associated with them.

"Well, there's plenty of restaurants 'round here!" Curly Bill grumbles in a low voice. "Sides, this here is our table anyhow and YN always takes care of us boys! Y'all go on now." Curly Bill's voice carries a warning. "This ain't New Mexico, boy!"

The Dalton boys stand, clearly outnumbered.

The moment they stand, Curly Bill eases his form into the seat before the Dalton's reach the door.

Curly Bill smiles at you and the exchange between the if you shows that your safety is insured when they're around.

"You alright?" Johnny asks, concern in his voice. He puts his hand on the small of your back. A desire to fall into his arms overwhelms you. You gaze up at him. "Thank you," you whisper.

Johnny smiles down at you and brushes the hair away from your face with a gentle hand.

"What can I bring you gentleman?" You ask while the other Cowboys take their seats.

"Coffee, YN," Curly drawls, feeling proud that he came to your rescue.

"Absolutely!" You tell him.

"Thank ya kindly, darlin'," Curly Bill answers.

"Ya ever find yourself in a situation like that again, you just tell us," Barnes adds, taking a seat.

"I really appreciate that," you respond.

"Well, anyone who can put a smile on Ringo's face must be something special," Barnes continues.

You can't help but smile. Johnny looks down and then back at you. He nods and smirks just enough to let you know he'll always have your back.

When you return with a tray of hot coffee, you take their orders.

Curly Bill goes first. "Got lucky at poker again last night! I'll take a steak, two eggs and biscuits."

"Of course," you answer, happily. Curly Bill's demeanor is a stark contrast from the first time he and his cowboys were in the restaurant.

The others order hotcakes and fried potatoes and bacon. You take their orders and head to the kitchen.

Fatty busies himself cracking eggs and flipping hotcakes when you return. "The Dalton's left!" You announce, your eyes beaming with relief.

Fatty pauses and wipes his big face with his apron. He heads to the dining hall and sees the Cowboys sitting where the Dalton's were

"Howdy there, partner," Curly Bill says. "Don't fret over them boys. They was dumb enough to bother the lovely lady here. I reckon they won't be bothering her again. And as long as we're having meals here, they won't bother any of you neither. Dumb bastards think they can talk to Johnny's girl like that."

Johnny feels a surge of pride. He's glad to see his Cowboys can embrace you and even go out of their way to protect you.

You hum to yourself while walking to the kitchen. You hand Fatty their orders and the large cook starts frying some steak. He orders Big Nellie to chop more potatoes. Big Nellie cuts up potatoes, onions and peppers. Nellie fries up the home fries and dumps some on a few plates.

Big Nellie cuts up more potatoes and peppers and onions so the restaurant staff could stay on top of the breakfast rush.

You return to check on the Cowboys and refill their coffee cups frequently so they don't need to ask. You bring a basket of warm biscuits and soft butter. "These are on me today!" You declare.

"Well, ain't that real nice," Curly Bill answers, helping himself to a biscuit. He takes a big bite and winks at you. You smile and return to the kitchen.

You notice out of all the patrons, the Cowboys keep their wide brim hats on while inside; something considered rude by certain societal standards. However they're a group that makes up their own rules and you appreciate that. After all, you left Missouri to head West for a taste of adventure.

More hungry customers walk down the stairs and take seats at the tables covered with oil clothes. Others enter through the front door. You greet them, while brushing hair behind your ears. You wipe the sweat off your head, take a breath and happily take their orders. Knowing the Cowboys sit close by, watching carefully, you breathe a little better.

Johnny watches in awe while you gracefully move through the restaurant, taking several orders at once, walking in and out of the kitchen, carrying a large, round platter with several steaming hot dishes of delicious delights including waffles, omelettes, sausage, oatmeal and fresh baked treats such as pies, doughnuts and sweet rolls.

You bring the Cowboys their orders; steaks cooked rare, pancakes, bacon, fried potatoes and sausage. You return to fill their coffee cups and ask if they need anything else.

"Just keep giving us that sweet smile," Barnes answers, his mouth full. The Cowboys eat quickly and clumsily, clearly showing their lack of decorum. All but Johnny, who chews his food and enjoys his food slowly. During a drive, cowboys do their best to not overindulge. Not much worse than riding on a full belly. However, when they were in town taking a break from driving cows, they ate freely, enjoying it as much as they could.

You find it charming. Watching Curly Bill takes big bites of steak with one fork and biting into a biscuit right after. He pauses just to sip his coffee and then goes back to happily digging in. They eat like no one is watching or they simply do not care, probably used to being gawked at. For these hardened men, the opinions of most people didn't affect them much.

You clear several plates. Big Nellie, who moves slowly by choice gives you a frustrated look. You hand her a plate of half eaten pancakes and she delightfully digs in while walking to the kitchen.

"Go easy, Big Nellie!" Curly Bill bellows, lighting up a cigar. "Save some room for the free chuck!"

With her mouth full, Nellie responds, "I'll be hungry again by then." She retreats to the kitchen. Curly Bill looks at you and smiles.

When you walk by, he brazenly takes your arm gently, but firmly. He knows not to scare you or upset you; he's a cowboy and doesn't possess the best manners.

"It's about time we lonely cowboys had something pretty and sweet to look at."

"Oh, Curly Bill!" You answer, chuckling. He lets go of your hand.

Curly Bill says your name. "I mean that. It ain't everyday someone makes this old cowboy feel appreciated."

You smile. Johnny Ringo nods at you recalling his intimate time with you. He face burns red but he composes himself. "You sure know how to make a man feel good," Johnny adds, his voice above a whisper.

Your eyes widen at Johnny. His gaze is so intense, it burns right through you. The Cowboys exchange glances, smiling at each other or shaking their heads in disbelief.

Johnny's got a soft spot after all...

"She sure is something..." Billy Clanton says, feeling like a silly school boy. "You sure got lucky there, Johnny." The younger cowboy shows some concern for Ringo's response, recalling how Johnny handled Ike when Ike disrespected you.

"Aw, hell! I didn't mean nothing by that, Ringo!" Billy Clanton says. "Just that we should all be so lucky. That's all..."

Johnny smiles in a way that shocks the Cowboys. They glance at each other.

Johnny Ringo smiling? The Cowboys ponder.

Curly Bill speaks up. "Aw, come on, son! You're making us all look bad! This lovely little lady puttin' a spell on you, boy?"

Johnny Ringo looks right at you. "Reckon she's putting a spell on me. I can't remember the last time I felt..." He pauses. "Alive," he whispers. He almost regrets saying it, but at the same time, he doesn't care.

You can't help but smile wide at Johnny's confession. He stares at the table, trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling that comes with his acknowledgement of his feelings.

"Well, I think other customers are in need of some of that charm," Curly Bill grunts. "We'll take a little more coffee, you don't mind," he finishes.

"Of course! Anything for you boys!" You respond, rushing to the kitchen. You return and fill their coffee cups.

"Mighty nice," Ike Clanton says, wiping food off his beard.

Curly Bill and the other Cowboys pay for their meals and hand you a big tip. Not only did they protect you, they ensured your service was appreciated.

Curly Bill lightly touches your chin before winking and heading to the door, his spurs jingling.

Johnny stands before you. His intense desires to hold you overwhelm him. He brushes a hair away from your face. He glances at the glistening sweat that lays on your chest.

"I'll be seeing you," he says, his voice just above a whisper.

"When?" You ask.

Johnny looks around, a few customers look over with curious glances. He doesn't want them talking about you. He nods, a silent agreement between you two. You watch the gunfighter walk away with his signature gait.

Big Nellie bumps into you. You turn and she scowls at you. She begins gathering the Cowboys plates and dishes, along with the empty coffee cups. "They didn't leave anything!" She growls. You sigh, working with her really tests your nerves.

The hotel restaurant closes after breakfast at 10 and doesn't reopen for lunch until 12. While people move about in the lobby, you head to the kitchen to help wash dishes and help prepare lunch.

"Stop eating, Nellie!" Fatty complains. "All she does! And Emmett asks me why we lose money!"

"Plenty of men around here think I'm pretty!" Nellie answers, her mouth full.

"If you're not going to help YN, please go sweep or something!" Fatty groans.

"It's time for my break anyhow!" Nellie announces while her big gerth is moving towards the front door. She heads to the ice cream parlor. She takes a broom and sweeps up, hoping for a free scoop. Bonney shakes his head and offers a vanilla cone. She downs it before returning to the hotel kitchen.

It's clear she's envious of your beauty and grace, but knows she can't compete with you. After almost two hours of washing, chopping and mixing, Fatty allows you a small break. You fix yourself a small sandwich and eat it, washing it down with coffee.

"Thank you!" You say. "That hit the spot."

"Well, let's get ready for lunch. I already hear people walking over," Emmett answers.

Fatty fries up some chicken and you busy yourself mashing potatoes and checking the oven to see if the biscuits are ready. "A few more minutes," you say. You throw your towel over your shoulder and blow air out of your lungs.

Fatty asks you to mind the gravy and ensure it doesn't boil. You stir the gravy, the smells flood the kitchen, giving the aroma of a Thanksgiving feast.

Nellie takes green beans out of a pot of water and puts them in a large bowl. She adds salt and pepper and mixes the beans well. Fatty takes a roast from the oven and begins carving it up with the speed of a seasoned cook.

You move to the counter at Fatty's request, you chop tomatoes, lettuce and fresh cucumber. Then you make a dressing with whole milk and mayonnaise, adding salt and pepper.

Emmett opens the restaurant and several people enter, sitting at various tables.

You move through the tables.

"Good afternoon," you say in a friendly voice. "For lunch we have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, a roast, gravy, salad and biscuits."

People place their orders for beef or fried chicken and you happily serve up their plates, carefully putting the same amount on each dish. You put four plates on a round platter and provide hungry customers with lunch. The rush lasts two hours and a few minutes before once again, Emmett closes the kitchen, allowing the staff to rest and prepare dinner.

Dinner doesn't start for three hours so you take a break to refresh yourself. When you exit the hotel, you hear the jingling of spurs. Then Johnny Ringo moves towards you. He says your name and smiles at you.

"Johnny!"

He motions for you to meet him behind the hotel without the prying eyes of witnesses.

To your surprise and delight, he cups your face and kisses you passionately. The two of you share an embrace of romance as intense as Johnny Ringo himself.

"I couldn't wait to do that!" He confesses.

You return his affection, wrapping your arms around him. He puts his forehead against yours. "You...you don't seem real," he whispers.

"I am," you acknowledge. "And I want to be here with you."

Johnny kisses you again. "Now you get back to work," he teases, patting your behind with an open hand.

"See you later, cowboy," you whisper, blowing him a kiss. He shakes his head, not believing his luck.

His moment of happiness grows dark when he hears the booming voice of Wyatt Earp who walks quickly towards him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Ringo?" Wyatt demands.

"What's it to you, Earp?" Johnny asks, looking squarely at the lawman.

"Everything here concerns me and I won't have you taking advantage of her. Or any other decent woman around here. There are plenty of whores to go around for a man like you. And your friends!"

"What can you do, Earp? Maybe you should stick to lawing, not bothering citizens here," Ringo's tone is cold.

"Don't tempt me, cowboy! We've had enough of your kind!"

Ringo looks Earp up and down, the realization of his words hit Ringo hard.

"You could put her in serious trouble," Wyatt growls. "You're not concerned someone may exploit her to get back at you? You're walking a fine line."

"So are you, Earp," Ringo answers, implying Wyatt's relationship with Josephine Marcus although Maddie Blalock still resides with him.

Wyatt's eyes turn to ice, his piercing glance burning through Johnny. Johnny's head, still reeling from the kiss, feels vulnerable, but does his best to maintain his tough disposition.

"Stay on your own side of the street, Earp," Johnny answers, looking away.

Wyatt watches the gunfighter leave. He shakes his head and wanders towards the Oriental.

When Wyatt enters the saloon, he takes his hat off and demands a cigar.

"What's the matter, Wyatt?" Virgil grumbles, counting receipts.

"That damn Ringo!" Wyatt snaps. "It would be a damn shame if she ran off with him!"

"Well, not much you can do, Wyatt," Morgan answers, his feet up while he leans back in his chair, his hat over his eyes.

"We're supposed to keep the bad elements out of here!" Wyatt snaps.

"The Cowboys keep this town alive, Wyatt," Morgan says. "Unfortunately..."

"I need to warn her. Let her know what she's getting into with that scum!" Wyatt pumps beer into a glass and takes a seat. "How'd we do?" Wyatt grumbles, gazing at the receipts.

"Good. Business keeps flowing. We'll soon have enough to open our own place," Morgan chuckles.

Wyatt nurses his beer.

The brothers spend the next hour counting the remaining receipts and checking to ensure plenty of booze occupies the shelves along with the beer pumps. Wyatt looks out the window and can see you run up the steps of the hotel, ready for the dinner rush.

Fatty stirs the beef stew he prepared and asks you to make biscuits. You nod, smile to yourself and get to work mixing flour and eggs together. Big Nellie busies herself preparing a vegetable salad, she opens the pot of stew and helps herself.

"Big Nellie!" Fatty whines. "There some roast left from lunch! And I put out some beans and tortillas!" He points to a corner of the kitchen where a plate of warm tortillas sits next to a bowl of beans. Nellie huffs and continues working on the salad. Fatty shakes his head and looks at you with gratitude. You work hard and wait for your breaks. You return the nod and get back to scooping biscuit batter into a muffin tin.

Emmett steps outside to smoke a cigarette and you can hear voices, but you cannot make out what they're saying. At one point you hear your name and your heart sinks when you hear a man say, "that damn Ringo!"

Your heart sinks... The smile that adorns your face disappears and you find your knees shaking. You recall Johnny telling you the risks of associating with him and how dangerous Tombstone can be. You feel flushed, your pulse racing. You want to bury your head and cry...

Emmett returns and keeps the door open for customers. You take hot biscuits out of the oven and put another batch in. While putting biscuits into small baskets, you hear Emmett approaching.

"People ready to order," he announces. He glances at you as if to say something, but when Big Nellie pushes past him he simply nods and says, "thank you."

He knows something...You say to yourself. You feel flushed and hope it doesn't show while sucking back your urge to cry.

Once the baskets have enough biscuits in each, you head to the dining area, doing your best to keep a smile.

"We have beef stew, salad and of course biscuits," you say to a group of people gathered at one table.

The dinner rush keeps you focused, but you know you must ride out to the camp to see Johnny.

At camp, Johnny retreats to his tent to calm his aching heart. He knew trouble would come your way if you were associated with him. He curses himself for kissing you behind the restaurant, but he couldn't resist. The sweat glistening on your chest, your longing and loving eyes, the way your bosom rested on the tight fabric that keeps them a secret...

He lets the air out of his lungs in a disappointed sigh. He comes to hate the name Johnny Ringo all over again. That name, that fierce reputation became such an obstacle in his life; he could barely hold onto what little he still had left. He tells himself that love can conquer, but his world and his experiences leave him with little hope. He can't imagine you sneaking around, risking your own safety for him. Although he would never allow any harm to come your way, upeople of Tombstone could run you out of town, you could lose the cottage you saved up for, your reputation forever ruined because of your association with Johnny Ringo...

Ringo looks over a few other Cowboys. Some chop wood for the fire, others brush down the horses while some relax with whiskey and a smoke. Curly Bill notices Johnny's demeanor and heads to the tent Johnny used to shield himself from others.

"You alright, boy?" Curly asks, his cherubic face grinning.

"Damn self righteous sons a bitches!" Ringo grunts.

"Hell, Johnny! What happened?" Curly Bill is still holding the tent flap open.

"I shouldn't have touched her!"

"What the hell are you going on about?" Curly Bill drawls. "That sweet little thing at the hotel? Hell, she didn't seem bothered by you at all!"

"I kissed her...I thought nobody was around." Johnny tosses a book aside, trying to shake his anger.

"Aw, come on, son!" Curly Bill drawls. "Can't be as bad as all that!"

"Wyatt Earp told me to stay away from her!" Ringo barks. "Damn slugs!"

"Reckon that don't make no never mind!" Curly Bill chuckles. "They can't do nothing anyhow! Sides, Wyatt's got enough trouble with Holliday and Josephine Marcus. Hell, he ain't no saint!"

Johnny lets out a sigh of relief. He knew Curly's words hold some truth. Wyatt should focus on the two women he's playing and his questionable relationship with Doc Holliday. However, Johnny's haunting past creeps in whenever he feels the slow release of the chains that have bound him up for so long. When the prospect of something wonderful reveals itself, he finds himself questioning his worth.

When your shift ends you head to the livery. Amos is sitting on the ground, reading a dime novel. When he sees you, he quickly stands and adjusts his hat. "Mighty fine day, ma'am!" Amos declares, moving to retrieve Daisy for you."

"Amos," you begin. "Did...Did Johnny, Johnny Ringo pick up his horse earlier? I mean, did you keep his horse here?"

"Matter of fact, I did, ma'am! He sure was sour bout something."

"Did he say anything?" You inquire.

Amos scratches his head, "not that I reckon. He's usually real quiet." Amos hitches Daisy for you with the ease of someone who'd been working with horses his entire life. He checks the cinch and helps you up.

"Well," he starts. "Wish I could help you, ma'am, but with Mr. Ringo, it's all just a how do ya do. I'm guessing he ain't one for conversation."

You smile at Amos and hand him a five cent tip.

"Much obliged, ma'am!" Amos declares. He sits back down and continues reading his book.

You begin riding towards the Cowboys camp, but decide to return home first. You don't want to overwhelm Johnny. But you're desperate to see him.

Once Daisy is happily secured in her stable, you head inside to wash up. You recall the glare in Emmet's eyes. You hope he didn't intend to warn you about the dangerous and unpredictable man that is Johnny Ringo.

You can hear Daisy whinnying outside as if she's connected to your devotion to Johnny. Her restlessness stirs something in you.

After you wash up, brush your hair and apply some color to your lips.

"Come on, girl," you hum, saddling Daisy.

"Gidyap!" You shout, running the quarter horse through the brush and wildflowers that decorate the canvas of the Tombstone.

Curly Bill looks up from his drink when he sees you riding into the camp. Some of the Cowboys stand and take their hats off as it's not common to see such a beautiful woman in their presence.

"Y'all calm down now!" Curly Bill demands. "She ain't here for y'all to gawk at!"

Curly Bill approaches you and helps you off your horse.

"What are you doing here? Not that it ain't nice to see you, but this place isn't a place for a lady like you!" He takes his hat off and rocks on his feet unsure how to handle someone so lovely in the presence of a bunch of smelly cowboys with little manners.

"You're here to see Johnny, ain't ya?" He ponders, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Wait here," he drawls. Curly Bill glares at some of the curious cowboys who haven't met you yet. "Get back to what you were doin'! This don't concern any of you!"

Johnny hears the booming voice of Curly Bill and exits his tent. He can see you standing several feet away. He quickly rises to his feet, adjusts his hat and moves swiftly to where you're standing.

Curly Bill winks at you and leaves you and Johnny alone.

Johnny approaches you. "This place is dangerous!" He says. "You shouldn't be here."

"Johnny! I saw Wyatt talking with you! Is that what's bothering you? I asked Amos if-"

Johnny cuts you off. "You asked the stable kid about me? Why? You could have asked me yourself."

You shake your head. You notice how Johnny pulls away whenever he feels the slightest threat to his union with you.

"Johnny! Please!"

"Don't draw attention to those slugs!" He says, trying to walk away from you.

"Really? You're going to pull away from me again?"

Johnny slowly turns. "Ain't no use," he mumbles.

Before Johnny can turn away, you stand your ground. "You know... Maybe you're right, Johnny!" Your frustrated voice manages. "I'll go waste my time somewhere else! Would that make you happy? Huh?! Fine!" You turn, mount Daisy and ride off, the strong quarter horse kicking up dirt. Johnny stands still, stunned by your dramatic exit.

Did I just lose her? His mind screams.

Curly Bill saunters over. "Well that sure was a hell and Jesus, Johnny." Curly Bill crosses his arms and shakes his head.

"Not now, Bill," Ringo drawls, looking away.

"You're a damn fool, Johnny!" Curly Bill admonishes. Lettin' that little girl leave here like that! Johnny, I ain't got no feeling now over this. You got a chance at love! A chance most of us boys will never get! And you toss it away like a dead poker deal." Curly Bill turns and leaves, shaking his head. He moves to face Johnny one last time. "Iffin' I had an angel like that, I'd never let her go." Curly Bill shakes his head again. "Damn fool! Most men I rode with would kill for a chance to be with her! She's right to leave! Damn fool!"

Johnny stands in shock; pity from people, especially women flowed when Johnny's darkness overtakes him. Your choice to turn and go leaves him speechless. The shame he would normally feel isn't present; something else...Your departure, your words and the harshness in your voice. For the first time, he sees a person, a woman who refuses to tolerate his self hate. He feels challenged... Unsettled... Embarrassed.

He feels like a damn fool. He never should have let you go.

Curly Bill shakes his head and walks back to the chuck wagon. Johnny can hear the big rustler talking, but can't make out the words. A few cowboys look over at Ringo and shake their heads, exchanging confused glances. Some throw their hands up in sheer frustration.

Johnny, who usually swaggers through camp, evoking fear and uncertainty due to his volatile nature suddenly feels weak. He retreats to his tent and drowns his sorrows and loses with a full bottle of whiskey. He removes the cork and tosses it, knowing he'll finish the bottle within a short time.

Johnny begins to feel the effects of the rot gut and feels his eyes grow tired. He takes a breath and feels his throat tighten. Your face appears in his mind and he wipes tears before they can fall.

Once he drains the bottle, he falls asleep.

He relives the moment you rode off. In his dream, he mounts his horse and follows you. He yells your name and finally catches up to you.

Once you both come to a stop, he pulls you onto his animal. "Don't go...I was a fool!"

Then he sees your face twist into anger and frustration and he awakens, kicking the empty whiskey bottle. He hears the crackling of a dying fire and the snoring or farting of his smelly companions. He stumbles towards the chuck wagon and fumbles around for more whiskey. He sloppily tosses things around, not caring about the noise he's creating. He discovers some full bottles of whiskey. He grabs one and indignantly uncorks it, once again throwing the cork aside. He downs some before retreating back to his tent. Johnny moves in a clumsy manner, feeling the weight of shame; his darkness caused him to lose the one person who ever truly cares. Your willingness to work as a waitress, rent a cottage... Tolerate stinky patrons trying to get a rise out of you...All for him.

Johnny Ringo feels such a sense of shame and regret, he doesn't know what to do. His cowboys will admonish him for being a fool, Wyatt Earp proved his point to you and the worst thought...He may never see you again.

You ride fast back to your cottage, Daisy kicking up dust. You suck back to your tears and grow a determination to not let Johnny's brooding rejection get to you.

The wind flows through your unbound hair. The feel of Daisy between your strong thighs feels free and wild, just like your spirit. When you reach your home, you dismount, remove Daisy's saddle and brush her off before preparing grains for her.

"That man!" You groan to your horse. "I won't leave! I won't let him think he got to me like that!" You wipe your tears and stomp up the stairs to your house. You slam the door and lean against the wall. Tears stream down your face and you cover your face while you cry over Johnny Ringo...

"You bastard!" You shout. "After what I did for you!!" You sob, your words coming out slowly. You pick up a tea cup and throw it against the wall. "Son of a bitch!" The cup smashes against the wall. You sink to your knees and allow yourself to fall into your sadness. You release the tension and hurt in your heart. You bury your head in your knees while you sit against the wall, tears streaming down your face. You hold your knees tight and visualize the day he kissed you and the sincere gratitude in his voice. And for him to show such coldness towards you leaves you feeling empty and lonely...The two emotions that rule the Wild West.

You can hear Daisy whinnying in her stable and you lift your head and wipe your eyes. Her noises remind you of your new life here. You came for adventure and excitement and perhaps you will experience those things. But your heart yearns for Johnny Ringo with such a hunger, you can't seem to satisfy it without him. The way he lifted your chin to kiss you, how he protected you from the Dalton's...

"Wyatt Earp," you grumble. "You no good son of a bitch..."

A determination to win Johnny back grows in your heart. You stand and run your hands through your hair.

"I'm not giving up," you whisper. "I didn't come here just to turn around...But hell if Johnny thinks I'll make this easy for him!"

Johnny awakens, his head throbbing. He kicks the empty whiskey bottle and peeks out his tent. He can see a few cowboys gathered by the chuck wagon waiting to refill their coffee cups and get some grub. Some cowboys are lazing in their bedrolls, their feet up.

Johnny feels his stomach grumble. He indignantly stumbles towards the wagon. He grabs an empty cup and pushes his way through some of the men standing there.

He can hear some whispers, but can't make out the words...

They're laughing at me... Johnny thinks. He shakes his head, but says nothing. Pony pours coffee and hands Ringo a plate of beans and bacon along with a couple of biscuits.

Johnny retreats into his tent with his meager breakfast and coffee. He eats quickly, hoping to ease his hangover. He can't remember a time when he felt such emptiness and disappointment. He can't shake the look of disgust in your face. Normally his darkness evokes pity from women, but your intolerance hits him like a ton of bricks.

Johnny can hear Curly Bill's booming voice. "Grub smells mighty fine, Pony! Fix me a plate, would ya? More coffee too!" Curly Bill takes his hat off and runs his hand through his hair. He cuts in front of the other Cowboys and takes the plate Pony prepared for him.

"Much obliged, Pony," Curly drawls, taking a seat. He looks over at Ringo's tent and shakes his head. "Damn fool," he grunts.

While the Cowboys enjoy their meager grub, cigars and night time music, Ringo remains in his tent. He comes out to get more whiskey or coffee or smoke a cigar, but keeps to himself in his typical melancholy demeanor. The Cowboys refuse to entertain his darkness; they know he's a fool for letting you go and he's drowning his self pity in whiskey and sleep.

"What's with Ringo?" Billy Clanton asks. "Seems more quiet than usual. Is it that cute little thing from the restaurant? She sure rode outta here like she was mad as hell about something!"

"Let him be," Curly Bill growls. "He knows he's a damn fool. Iffin' he wasn't my friend, hell! I'd be looking to get her attention!" Curly Bill cleans his plate and gets a few more biscuits.

"Well, he ain't gonna ruin our fun tonight," Curly Bill bellows. "And we can always ride into town for some more party! But right now, I wanna eat!" The old rustler sits back down, puts his feet up and munches his cowboy chow.

"Matter of fact...I got $20 left! I'm gonna play me some poker! Maybe I'll play a little faro with old Wyatt!" Curly Bill declares. "Then I'll get a taste of home sweet home with one of them sportin' ladies!" Curly Bill puffs his cigar, blowing the smoke out with a satisfied grin.

While the Cowboys soak up the night life, you drown your own sorrows in a bottle of wine you picked up. You prepare a plate of cheese, fruit and dried meat and sip through your tears. You shake your head while munching some crunchy bread. "Can't believe him..." You mutter to yourself. You gaze out the window while chewing a piece of cheese. You finish your glass and pour another. All your encounters with the gunfighter dance through your head. His intense gaze, how he protected you, how he passionately kissed you. The short, hey highly sexually charged moments.

"Before you ran off!" You moan, sipping your wine, feeling your head spin. You rise from your chair and open a drawer near the water pump. You pull out a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches. You don't normally smoke, but usually keep a pack on hand. You recall many moments during the war when you indulged in a cigarette... After lighting it, you sit at the table and continue nursing your drink. "No wonder you're not with anyone! What woman would want to deal with you!" You moan, smoke escaping your nose and mouth. You flick the ashes on the floor and brush them away with your boot. "Just wait, Johnny," you sigh, lifting your head, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "Watch how fast I move on!" You take one last drag of your cigarette and light another.

"Shit..." You mumble to yourself. You finish another glass and pour some more.

The following morning, the sound of Daisy whinny awakens you. You're relieved you don't serve breakfast today; you're scheduled for lunch and dinner so you could sleep in for a little while. You throw the covers off and walk towards the window. The sun bathes the room with hopeful warmth. You gaze at the trees, the wildflowers and the hills that twist towards the sky. The soft song of birds, frogs and crickets floods your room. You hold your arms to stay warm and paddle to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. While the water is heating on the stove, you put your boots on and head to the stable to care for Daisy. You whistle while you prepare her grains and refresh her water. You kiss her head and sigh. "I won't let him break me, girl! I won't let him see me beg!"

Daisy whinnies to show her approval. "Don't fall in love, Daisy!" You tell her. Then you suck back to your house for coffee and breakfast. After you finish your bacon and biscuit, you get yourself dressed.

You gaze out the window and look at the area you marked off for a garden.

"Let's plant carrots, green beans, peppers, onions and peas!" You hum to yourself. "Soup sounds great!"

Once Daisy is hitched to her carriage, you, with a happy, yet heavy heart head to town. At the general store, you purchase seeds for your garden. You smile at everyone, embracing your new found sense of happiness separate from Johnny Ringo. You want him to see you thriving and content.

The hotel restaurant buzzes with hungry patrons when you arrive. After securing your apron, you head to the dining area with a full pot of coffee.

"Good afternoon!" You say with a happy smile. "Our lunch special is lamb chops, red potatoes and coleslaw. And of course bread and biscuits!" You pour coffee into cups and move gracefully around the kitchen, refusing to allow Johnny's storm to rain on your day.

While you work through your day, you keep your mind focused on serving and cleaning, but you also glance out the window to see if Johnny is anywhere in sight. You don't see him and your heart drops. You remember your promise to yourself.... You'll stay and prove to Johnny Ringo that you're stronger than you look!

At the Cowboys camp, Ringo finally emerges from his tent.

"Well, look who's gracing us with his presence today," Curly Bill drawls, leaning over, sipping coffee while he sits on a log. "Done feeling damn sorry for yourself?"

Ringo ignores Curly Bill and stumbles to the chuck wagon. He moves past Pony and serves himself breakfast. Johnny sits at the makeshift table provided and begins eating, not realizing how hungry he is. He fills his coffee and gets more. When he's through devouring his merger cowboy breakfast and coffee, he heads to where his horse is.

"I don't think she wants to see you!" Ike Clanton chuckled, enjoying getting a rise out of Ringo.

"Going to town for a bath," Ringo responds. "Any objections?"

"Hell no!" Curly Bill remarks. "You're stinking up this camp with your attitude and yourself!" Curly returns his attention back to his coffee and breakfast. He shakes his head. "He thinking he's gonna walk up to her and tell her he knows he's a damn fool?!" He comments.

"Well, maybe it is just for a bath, boss," Billy Clanton says.

McMasters shifts in his seat. "What the hell is he thinking? Letting her go like that?"

Johnny Barnes hands his empty plate and coffee cup to Pony, who's heating water to wash dishes. "That little lady is the prettiest damn lady in Tombstone and ol Ringo got closer to her than any of us could. He sure is a fool for letting her go. He's got too much crammed in that head of his."

"He thinks too damn much and that ain't good for a man!" Curly Bill grumbles.

When Johnny Ringo rides into town, he makes a point to check the livery for Daisy.

"Morning, Mr. Ringo!" Amos drawls. "Mighty fine day!"

Ringo sees Daisy and knows you're working the breakfast shift at the restaurant.

"I'm getting real good with this pistol!" Amos brags. "Be as fast as Cole Younger soon!" Then Amos frowns. "Reckon it's something you rode with the Youngers! Ain't well for them being at Stillwater and all while Frank and Jesse James made it out alright!"

Ringo barely hears him. He can almost smell your sweet perfume.

"Personally, I wouldn't be able to go without women that long," Ringo answers. "Rather die." Ringo looks out towards the landscape as if talking to the wild frontier itself.

"Have a good day, Mr. Ringo! I'll take real good care of your horse for ya! Mighty nice horse."

Ringo tips the kid and heads to the bathhouse. He soaks in the hot water while thinking about breakfast. Ain't no harm in a man enjoying a warm meal that's not beans or bacon with hard biscuits.

He lights a cigar and recalls the conversation he had with you. How he let you slip right through his fingers out of pride and his self loathing. Maybe be can win you back..

Once he feels he'll be as clean as a cowboy can be, he picks up clean clothes while he's laundered. He heads to the restaurant, he's heart pounding against his chest.

Once he enters, he can already feel your presence. He doesn't bother looking at anyone. He takes a seat and turns the clean, empty coffee cup right side up.

You come through the kitchen, holding a pot of fresh coffee. You appear more beautiful and more desirable than before now that he feels he's lost you.

His heart sinks when you refuse to look at him. You pour coffee into his cup without saying a word.

He says your name, but you ignore him, feeling a sense of triumph.

I won't let him break me this time...

"Have a look at the menu and I'll be right back. Our special today is chorizo with eggs."

"Well, I was hoping I could -"

You cut him off. "I have other customers waiting," you respond, your voice cold. So cold, it cuts through to his heart which falls at your words.

"Other customers...* He grumbles as she walks away. You referred to him like anyone else; no longer that special man that you risked so much for; a man that you believed in so much, you work as a waitress, tolerating drunken men and a gritty atmosphere. Saving up your money to rent a cottage and buy a horse. You probably scrub the floors of the restaurant while it's closed or wash dirty dishes just to stay close to him. And he went and let you go and now he really feels the sting of the absence of your warmth. He feels tempted to get up and leave, but his pride keeps him grounded.

You return and take his order. "What will it be?"

"It's a little slow, have time to have some coffee?" He asks, his head down.

"Oh no, Johnny. Why would I want to waste my time with the likes of you?" The coldness in your voice breaks his tough demeanor. He smirks without looking up.

"I'll get the special, I guess." He finally says.

Without a word, you leave and head back to the kitchen.

Johnny Barnes and Frank Stillwell enter the restaurant. They find Ringo and sit down with him.

You return with the coffee pot and Barnes tips his hat. "You're prettier than I recall," Barnes says. "What do you think, there, Ringo?" Barnes, clearly taking a jab at Ringo laughs under his breath.

"And you're cuter than I recall, Mr. Barnes!" You respond with enthusiasm.

You pour more coffee, still ignoring Ringo, who can't bring himself to look at you. But jealousy creeps through his veins like a poison.

Barnes laughs sheepishly. He sips his coffee. "What do you think, Ringo?" Barnes asks. "She sure is a lovely little lady!"

Ringo smirks, but doesn't meet anyone's gaze. Stillwell, known for being dark and quiet nods his head without an expression.

"What can I get you boys?" You ask, taking your pad and pencil out.

"Steak, two eggs, two biscuits. Honey on them biscuits," Stillwell groans.

"Steak, two eggs, two hot cakes and bacon and sausage!" Barnes says, sipping his coffee. "Getting tired of Pony's chuck, Barnes remarks. "Sides, you're a lot prettier than old Pony!"

"You're too kind," you answer, collecting their menus.

"Be back with your orders, boys!" You turn and leave, not even acknowledging Ringo, who just stares at his coffee cup, his smirk barely noticeable now.

"Good coffee!" Barnes announces. "Can't wait for that little lady to refill them cups, huh, Ringo?" Barnes teases, knowing it's getting to Ringo.

"I suppose," Ringo snorts.

When you return, you place their orders in front of them. "Be right back with that honey!" You tell Barnes.

"Gimme a couple of them sausages," Stilwell asks, looking at his plate.

"Of course!" You head back to the kitchen, surprised at how calm your heart feels. You refuse to let Ringo's dark and brooding demeanor break you down. You feel a strong sense of triumph, knowing your indifference may drive him wild, although he'll maintain his stoic disposition.

When you return, Barnes tips his hat. "Mighty good eats, ma'am. I reckon I'll be enjoying breakfast in town more often, what do you think, boys?" He leans back.

Stillwell grunts while cutting his sausage and Ringo just smirks, barely touching his breakfast. Ringo sips his coffee, but it's gone cold while he sits there brooding.

You pour coffee into his cup and he nods his head.

"Anything else I can bring you?"

"That sweet smile, lady," Barnes says, feeling mighty proud of himself.

"Curly is right. You are a damn fool, Ringo. Letting a little girl like that slip away.

Ringo flashes Barnes a sinister glare, his eyes full of something Barnes couldn't quite read.

Stilwell finishes eating and sits back, lighting a cigar, not caring about the smoke floating through the restaurant.

Barnes pays you and gives you a nice tip before lighting a cigar. Stilwell throws some money on the table. He tips his hat and utters, "much obliged, ma'am."

"You mind telling me what that was all about?" Ringo scowls at you.

"What, Johnny?" You ask, fumbling with the dishes. Johnny takes her wrist. He releases it and leans back.

"Why would I want to waste my time with you, Johnny? You said it yourself. You're no good, remember?"

Johnny looks at you, his eyes full of a dark regret. You're slipping through his fingers.

"I'm done playing these games with you, Johnny. You made it clear to me!"

Johnny opens his mouth to speak, but he can't find the right words. In the past, women pursued him regardless of his dark and brooding nature. But you refuse to play by his rules.

Big Nellie hobbles over, her belly falling below the belt that keeps her skirt up.

She scowls at you before asking Barnes and Stillwell if they're done.

"As done as can be," Stillwell drawls, puffing on his cigar. "Reckon I'm through!" Barnes winks.

Ringo says nothing. He pushes his plate of half eaten breakfast away and smirks.

Nellie grabs Ringo's plate and starts stuffing chorizo and biscuits into her mouth while she struts back into the kitchen. Fatty comes out, wiping his face with his apron. He scolds Nellie, "why you eat off the plates in the dining room? Can't you wait until you're in the kitchen!"

Nellie scoffs and shrugs, continuing to eat the leftovers. You roll your eyes and gather other plates.

"Real nice smile you got!" Barnes says to you.

"Thank you, Johnny!"

Ringo cringes at the sound of his name on your lips. He fears he'll never hear you talk sweet to him again.

He stands up and heads to the door, not saying a word.

"Old Ringo's got his head on something, what you think, there, Frank?" Barnes chuckles.

"He ever not like that?" Stilwell remarks, taking another puff of his cigar.

*Reckon he ain't," Barnes answers.

Both men stand. Stilwell tips his hat to you, but says nothing. Barnes does an over exaggerated tip of his hat before strutting out the door after Stilwell.

"That's the cutest damn waitress I think I ever saw!" Barnes declares.

Ringo makes his way to the exit with his signature gait. He methodically adjusts his hat before leaving.

"He's always got his head on something!" Barnes says in a low voice. "What you think there, Frank?"

Stilwell sucks his cigar while nodding and adjusting his wide brim hat.

"Reckon there's more to do here," Stilwell remarks. Barnes tips his hat to you. "Good day, there pretty lady!"

"Good day to you!" You return the gesture.

You head back to the kitchen to retrieve more orders and feel a strange sense of peace. While putting food on plates and refilling coffee cups, you saunter through the restaurant, feeling proud for standing your ground and not letting Johnny Ringo get to you.

Johnny Ringo experiences it differently; he's not used to women ignoring him like that, especially when he falls into his dark and brooding moments. You stand your ground and that's something he begrudgingly respects. He kicks a few stones while walking towards the Dead End saloon.

Johnny makes his way through the batwings and heads to the bar. Annie is talking with a few patrons while she keeps the beer and whiskey flowing. Johnny notices her grab the tips on the counter and stuff them in her bosom. He lets out a sigh, your face floods his vision. Your expressive eyes, full of genuine concern, your soft hair that fills his nostrils with a heavenly aroma. The gentleness of your touch and your unwavering devotion. Until he rejected it because of his guilt and shame. And now he sits at the bar with a dreadful understanding that women like Annie are the best it's ever going to get. His heart sinks while he recalls how you said his name, but you directed your attention to Barnes. He can still feel the sting. He fears he'll never hear his name fall from your lips with such softness.

"You look like you could use a friend, cowboy," Annie remarks, putting a shot glass before him.

"Annie, I ain't in the mood," Ringo answers.

"Then you best take it somewhere else!" Annie snaps.

"I'm drinking hootch, I can be here," Johnny barks back. He downs his shot and pours another. Your face flashes through his memory; your sweet perfume teases his senses. He leans forward, his elbows on the table.

"You can't throw me out long as I'm spending cash in here. And I plan on spending plenty!" He takes another shot, hoping his senses will deaden soon. He fears the whiskey won't help him escape his fear, but make it worse. At this moment, he doesn't care.

"Just keep that rotgut coming, Annie!"

Annie leans forward, showing off her merchandise. "Don't get too sauced, Johnny," she scowls. "Would hate for Injun Buck to throw you out!"

Ringo scoffs while Injun Buck, the bouncer steps forward.

"Think it over, cowboy!" Annie fires at him. "You know damn well what women are for so you can stop acting like you don't!"

Johnny Ringo doesn't meet her gaze. His hands twitch while he pours another shot.

"There's plenty of men for you, Annie. You could retire in another year, busy as you've been."

"Damn right!" Annie fumes. "I may be a whore, but I'm a damn hard working one." She turns away. "You should know!" She howls, reminding Ringo of their times together. Annie could ease a man's stress with her strong legs and understanding of a man's body. Johnny recalls the evening she told him, "we're getting along mighty fine, Johnny. Ever think about me becoming a respectable woman?"

Ringo remembers how he laughed and then made love to her again. Now she stands behind the bar, clearly sore that he refuses to utilize her services.

Ringo leans forward on his elbows. "Can't a man drink in peace?"

Annie throws a rag aside and adjusts her dress. "It's that waitress, isn't it?" Annie inquires, pouring herself a shot. She downs and stares at Ringo. Annie laughs indignantly. She slams the shot glass down and shakes her head. "It's her, isn't it? Well," she says the words pouring like syrup. "Big Nellie's been in here. She told me you've damn near lost your mind over YN... She's got a price on her ass same as every other woman!" Annie says, pouring herself another shot. "Well, who would have thought Johnny Ringo, deadlier than Pat Garrett would turn into a lovesick calf all over a waitress!"

Ringo does the best he can to remain composed.

He stares at his whiskey. "Lucky you ain't a man.."

"I guess so. And lucky for you, I ain't as expensive as a respectable woman. Admit what you are, Johnny. Accept certain things. It ain't gonna get much better, cowboy!"

Johnny clenches his jaw and down another whiskey. He holds the bottle, contemplating if he wants to pour another or just take it with him back to camp. He knows he'll finish this bottle thinking about you and buy another and drink himself into a stupor so he doesn't remember you. Remember how loving and tender you are. The way you rode out to his camp to confront him, how you stayed and was willing to work as a waitress... Just for him. And he tossed you aside. Now he sits, drinking himself into oblivion, wondering if he could ever win you back.

Johnny sucks back a shot. *What do you know? The business you're in," Johnny says in a condescending way.

Annie smirks. She leans forward. "My family was murdered by Yankee soldiers and after two soldiers had their way with me, they left me for dead..."You don't know me," Annie says in a chilling tone.

"This ain't easy country," Johnny answers. "Cole Younger's mother set fire to her own house...I saw John Younger murdered. My mother died after Yankees raided her house. I got there too late .."

"See, we all got our demons, Johnny. Just forget about YN."

Johnny tosses some money on the bar and leaves, taking the unopened bottle of whiskey with him.

"You know where to find me, Johnny! Let's see you get one better!" Annie shouts as Ringo exits. He heads to the livery.

"Mighty fine afternoon. Almost evenin'," Amos declares. "Reckon I'll get your horse for ya." Amos adjusts his hat and heads out to retrieve Johnny's horse.

Rage floods through Johnny's veins, burning through him like a wildfire that nothing could extinguish. He decides to head back to camp. When Barnes returns, Ringo will make sure that damn wretch doesn't talk to you anymore.

Johnny checks the cinch.

"I saddled him real good for ya, Mr. Ringo. Ain't no need to check nothing."

"It ain't personal, kid. Just a habit..."

Johnny turns his horse and rides back to camp. The late afternoon sun bathes the camp in its glow. The heat causes the stench of body odor, horse shit, tobacco and stale beans to rise up. A stark reminder of the dire situation the Cowboys face. If the Earps have their way, his future looks meek. Those brothers could force the Cowboys out of town or worse.

The Clanton's ride behind up behind him. Johnny slows his horse and watches the two trot to the picket line to keep their horses.

Johnny Ringo dismounts and secures his horse. He pulls out a cigar, lights it and sits at one of the makeshift tables. Careful, he uncorks a bottle of whiskey. He indignantly sips it, seething with rage.

"Where's Barnes?" He groans.

"At the hotel," Ike grumbles, stumbling towards the bucket of washing water. He dunks his head in, pulls it out and shakes it off like a mangy dog. Then he shoves tobacco in his mouth, chewing slowly. A stream of brown spit flies from his mouth. Ringo gives him a disgusted look. When Ringo falls under these spells, the Cowboys know to stay clear.

"What's he doing there?" Johnny asks, gazing out at the frontier before them.

Billy and Ike glance at each other with uneasy looks.

"What's he doing there, damnit!" Johnny barkes.

"Talking to that there waitress, that's all. Ain't nothing," Billy drawls, dropping his saddle on the ground and leaning against it.

"Hell it ain't nothing! That little weasel talking to her..."

"Thought you was through her anyhows," Billy grunts.

Ringo scoffs at the younger cowboy. Ike nudges Billy, reminding him not to push Johnny Ringo.

"He puts his hands on her, he's a dead man..." Ringo's words hang in the air like the stink of a corpse rotting in the sun. "Damn fool," Ringo whispers. He's referring to himself as much as he is Barnes.

The McClaurey's ride in, Frank riding in front. Tom trots past and pickets his horse first. Frank tosses his saddle on the ground and kicks it against a rock.

"What's with Ringo?" Frank asks, lighting a cigar. He hands on the top while puffing out a funnel of smoke.

"What you think?" Billy Clanton groans. He keeps his voice low. "Somebody better tell Barnes fore he gets back "

Just then, Stillwell and Barnes return. Ringo clenches his jaw, staying composed, although his heart races and his rage grows.

Barnes, after taking his horse to the picket line, saunters over to the other Cowboys.

Ringo slowly, methodically, with the experience of a seasoned gunfighter and guerilla, stands before Barnes. Ringo crosses his arms and stares the younger cowboy down.

Barnes back up just a bit.

"Ringo? You ain't sore over that little waitress, are you? Thought you was done with her!"

Ringo's eyes turn icy while his rage burns through him.

"She don't mean nothing anyhow! Hell, she came here for you and you done told her you wasn't interested! She's fair game now!"

Before Barnes could say another word, darkness came over him while he saw hundreds of stars. When he shakes his head and realizes Ringo just punched him, he stumbles backwards.

"Stay away from her, you hear?!" Ringo growls.

Johnny Barnes slowly stands, wiping blood from his mouth. He knows not to make things worse with Ringo.

Curly Bill hurries over, taking long strides.

"What the hell is going on here!?" He shouts.

"Cool down, son!" Curly Bill scolds Ringo. "You made it clear to her you ain't interested! You ain't got no beef with Barnes here! We got enough trouble with the law 'round here! Don't go making it worse!"

Ringo stares Curly Bill down, but the big rustler doesn't back down.

Johnny Ringo stands, knowing he can't an escalated it things although he wants to bust up the entire camp.

Barnes stumbles to his feet. He wipes the blood from his lip. "Jesus," he mumbles.

Curly Bill shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips.

"Juanito," he stumbles.

Ringo sees Barnes bleeding. It doesn't do much.

"You talk to her again, you'll be picking your teeth up off the ground, you no good slug!" Ringo bellows at Barnes, who's wiping blood off his lips.

Barnes turns. "You're losing your damn mind, Ringo!" Barnes shouts. "She ain't yours! She ain't nobody's! And iffin' I want to talk to her, I am!"

"I guess you didn't hear me," Ringo says, locking eyes with Barnes.

Ringo moves to charge at Barnes, who moves out of the way quickly.

Curly Bill grabs Ringo by the collar and shoves his head into a large bucket of washing water. Then Curly Bill tosses Ringo aside. For an older Cowboy, Curly Bill could still take down a man twice his size. The Cowboys saw Curly Bill fight plenty of times; the old rustler was quick and fearless, throwing a man to the ground with a few swings. Ringo knew not to get into a scuffle with Curly Bill.

"Damn sons a bitches!" Ringo groans, drool falling from his open mouth. *Ain't none a you good enough! At least I saw that!" Ringo runs his hands through his damp hair and staggers to his feet. He looks at Curly Bill, but hesitates as he almost falls backwards.

"Don't ever do that again, Bill!"

"I'll do whatever damn thing I gotta do to keep this outfit!" Curly Bill shouted. "And right now, y'all need to cool off, Ringo! You taking this thing with that little lady too far now! Ya told her you don't wanna see her, that ain't no one's fault! It don't make no nevermind now!"

Johnny Ringo sits back down, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Then he slowly stands, puffing his chest out, attempting to maintain some stoicism. He puts his hat back on and adjusts it just right. Then he fumbles indignantly through the drawers of the chuck wagon until he finds bottles of whiskey. He grabs one, pulls the cork out with his teeth and takes a swig.

"Drink or off, hell, sleep it off, son!" Curly Bill growls.

Ringo retreats to his tent. He tosses the cork aside and continues to nurse the whiskey. It burns while it splashes against his throat. He swallows hard. He can hear Curly Bill's voice boom over camp. "Damn fool! Spendin' too much damn time readin' and thinkin'! That's his damn problem. He was alright with hisself before that little lady showed up. Playing with his head! Iffin' if I was Ringo, I'd already have that woman right here with me! Or away from you smelly cowboys! I'd never let her outta my damn sight. I'd be keeping her real close! Wouldn't let other fellas near her. She'd be real safe with me! Ringo pissing away something real good thinking he ain't good enough and all! Don't make a lick a sense!"

Ringo drowns out Curly's words while he continues to pound whiskey. Johnny pulls some paper out of his journal and begins to write...

YN,

All my life I've been searching for something I could grab onto. Something I could keep and hold...For all my life. Then when you smiled, the darkness in my heart felt a slow ember burning. I am reminded of the blood on my hands and my name. Not fit for a woman like you. No matter how much I want you, I cannot keep you from the life you truly deserve.

Love,

Johnny Ringo

He folds the letter and keeps it in his pocket. The tears flooding his eyes cause the area to grow blurry. He quickly wipes his eyes and gazes at the frontier around him. He wants to storm that damn restaurant, take you out of that kitchen and ride away with you.

We could live out in the desert for a day or two, I'd keep us safe from grizzlies and those red devils that dominate the sand. But then she'd see how I live...I ain't got nothing to offer her...

And his dream fades like cigar smoke in a saloon.

Johnny's eyes grow so weary from the rot gut and the memory of you pouring coffee for Barnes. He closes his eyes and begins to dream...

He sees you in a flower field; you're twirling along with the dandelion fuzz and butterflies that whirl with a soft breeze. You turn and you see Johnny standing there. Without hesitation, you run towards him and before he can feel you fall into his arms, you turn away and fade into the sun...

Ringo awakens and kicks the dirt around him. He can feel his mind and heart sink into a dark place again...The fear of losing you becomes clear and real...

You awaken to the sound of birds singing while the flow of a warm breeze moves through the trees. Johnny Ringo's face appears in your mind and you turn your head away, letting a tear fall from your tired eyes. You still can't believe Johnny tossed you aside after everything you experienced together.

Your bare feet hit the floor and you stretch and prepare for your day. Another one of taking orders and serving up chuck at the hotel restaurant. Once dressed and ready, you head out to hitch Daisy. Daisy greets you with a whinny and her head bops in genuine excitement.

"Oh, Daisy!" You allow her warm fur to wipe your tears and she moves her head towards yours. "I'm leaving! I'm going! I never should have come here!"

You suck back your tears and get Daisy hitched. The ride into town seems longer now and you barely notice the carpet of wildflowers busting through the ground.

You sob all the way to the hotel. People move up and down the street, men carry sacks or saddles, women carrying baskets and gentlemen and riff raff alike strut down the sidewalks, looking for entertainment.

Amos is reading a dime novel when you approach the livery. He quickly stands and adjusts his hat.

"Mornin', ma'am!" He drawls, tucking his shirt back in his pants. "Mighty fine too, I reckon."

You smile and allow Amos to take Daisy.

"You alright, ma'am? You look kinda down?"

"Just didn't sleep well."

"My ma says I got a real knack for readin' folks. When they're having a bad day and all!"

"Your ma's a smart lady." You chuckle.

"Reckon she was! Till the pox got a hold of her. Hell, ain't much happy 'round! Sorry for proddin'. I'll take care of Daisy for you!"

You nod and walk slowly up the steps to the hotel restaurant.

A few people sit at the tables, enjoying coffee or reading the newspaper.

You can hear Fatty singing in the kitchen. You wander into the kitchen area and wrap your apron around your shoulders and waist.

You gaze at the small chalkboard to check the special.

"Hotcakes and sausage."

Fatty flips pancakes while turning sausage links over in a sizzling pan. You hear more people enter, you grab your pad and pencil and head to tables. Patrons order the usual; steak, eggs, biscuits and honey. Others order the hotcakes special and some just eggs and bacon.

You bring steaming plates of breakfast to the hungry customers and hope the day moves quickly.

In the kitchen, Fatty shouts at Big Nellie, "can't you wait until after breakfast?" You see Nellie helping herself to fresh pancakes, folding them in half so she can eat them quickly. You scoff under your breath.

"We need more biscuits, Fatty," you tell the older cook.

"How can I make biscuits when Big Nellie is eating half the hotcakes?! You see how much work I have to do? Make pancakes, make sausage, cook steak and eggs!"

You shake your head. "Damnit, Big Nellie! Put the plate down and get to those biscuits! I've got a lobby full of people to take care of!"

Big Nellie backs away for a moment, taken aback by your sudden aggression.

Big Nellie measures flour, mumbling under her breath. You grab a full coffee pot and move around the kitchen, pouring hot coffee into cups. Customers tip their hats or nod with gratitude.

When you return to the kitchen, Nellie avoids looking at you. Fatty wipes his fat face with his apron and nods.

"Two more specials and one steak and eggs, biscuits and honey!" You respond, placing dirty dishes in the sink.

"Another few people just came in!" You tell Fatty, who is mixing pancake batter.

Nellie places hot biscuits on a large plate and you grab three, placing them on the plates you're taking to the restaurant.

"Here you are!" You declare to the customers who smile and nod.

You gaze out the window, wondering if Johnny Ringo will find a reason to enjoy breakfast at the restaurant. But you just notice the usual bustle of townspeople moving through town. You blow the air out of your lungs, run your hands through your hair and move back to the kitchen to gather more orders.

Emmet lights up a cigar and puffs on it while closing the door to the restaurant. You survived the breakfast rush and sit at a table, nibbling a biscuit while sipping coffee. You can feel your heart sink. You suck back your tears and finish off your coffee. The idea of taking the next train out grows more appealing.

Serves him right! You think to yourself.

You recall the moments you enjoyed together. How he opened up to you and the intimate time you shared. How he kissed you and made you feel like the only woman in the world. His tender touch and the perfect love you thought you shared. He came to your cottage and enjoyed pie with you. Then he discarded you; using his past and internal darkness to throw you aside so he can wallow in his own self pity. You showed him he didn't need to experience fear or guilt when in your presence. You showed him devotion and perseverance; you worked at the ice cream parlor, then the restaurant until you saved enough dough to buy Daisy and rent that cottage. All so you could show him how far you would go to show your love.

And he threw it away...

You fear you won't see him again and that hits you harder than anything...

"Oh, Johnny..." You whisper.

Fatty comes to your table. "I need your help in the kitchen. Big Nellie just eats the leftovers!"

"Sure," you respond. You take your plate and coffee cup to the kitchen. You check the bread dough and it's rising beautifully. You take the dough and make a few loaves for the oven.

While fresh bread bakes in the oven, you help Fatty prepping with chopping vegetables for a stew while Fatty cuts up fresh beef.

Big Nellie returns from the ice cream parlor, her mouth full of strawberry ice cream. You roll your eyes and return your attention to the vegetables.

"Check the bread, Nellie," you say in a commanding voice. Nellie moves through the kitchen, finding her apron and tying it in the back. She still seems sore from your admonishment of her laziness from the morning. But she gets to work on the bread.

Fatty takes a piece of chalk and writes the lunch special on the chalkboard.

Lunch Special:

Chicken and dumplings.

"I'll get started on the dumpling, Fatty," you declare, hoping the businesses of your work will distract you from your thoughts about Johnny...

Outside of Tombstone, Morton and Dalton sit outside a shack.

"That damn Johnny Ringo owes us money and we'll either get it or beat it out of him!" He drawls while a cigarette dangles from his mouth. Morton, a tall man with deep blue eyes and dark blond hair, gazes into the small fire burning. "Word has it he likes to be alone sometimes. Away from those damn cowboys."

"You ain't afraid of Curly Bill Brocius or Frank Stillwell?" Dalton asks, his gaze on the frontier. Dalton, although shorter than Morton held himself with great stature. His dark eyes move over Morton while he chews a toothpick. His worn face shows the lines of violence and vengeance.

"Not if we get all the boys together!" Morton grunts. "The sooner the better! Get some scouts to follow that gunfighter around. He'll slip and when he does, we'll be ready for him."

Dalton nods and tosses his toothpick aside. Then he grabs a bottle of fire water and uncorks it slowly. "We'll bleed that money out of him." He says cooly.

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curlysgirl0202 · 10 months ago

Text

Request for a Story:

(reader) Searching for A Social Group Outside of Her Friends... Despite the Earps Repeated Warning About the Cowboys, the Reader Persists, Much to the Shock and Astonishment of The Cowboys and Everyone Else in Town...Is the Reader Up For the Challenge?

The Arizona wind whipped through town in the early afternoon. Dust flooded the area for a moment, the townspeople taking refuge in saloons or in their homes. The Cowboys, who's been on a number of dust infested cattle drives endured it with little effort. They simply played cards, visited the parlors or drank their loneliness away at one of the many whiskey houses.

After a few days, the wind died down and the residents of Tombstone once again flooded the streets and many establishments the up and coming boom town had to offer. Among other things, Tombstone residents boasted of a public library, theater, art museum, stationary, several liveries, two grocery stores that sold fresh fruit and vegetables, a wine and beer shop and several custom tailors and custom dress making. In addition, there were several parlors where men could drown their loneliness in booze and a meaningless yet pleasurable encounter.

One Saturday afternoon, the stage stops at the Grand Hotel, a favorite spot for the Cowboys. A few people exit the stage.

Then you emerge like a butterfly from her chrysalis; beautiful and delicate with just a touch of roughness.

Johnny Ringo takes a drag of his cigarette before his eyes fall over you and your wonderful curves. His eyes, usually full of brooding turn softer. He tosses the cigarette and takes his hat off, hoping to get a better look at you.

"Well, ain't she a sight for sore eyes," Curly Bill remarks, leaning against a post.

A few other cowboys gather.

"Maybe she's with the theater," Stilwell adds. "Pretty. Real pretty." He goes back to sharpening his knife while he sits on the sidewalk, his legs crossed while he leans against the wall.

Ringo says nothing, he just allows himself to soak up your beauty as beautiful things were uncommon in the town too tough to die. In Tombstone, women were as scarce as daisies in winter and until now, Josephine Marcus was considered the most beautiful woman in town.

That's about to change... Ringo says in his mind. Still in somewhat of a trance, Johnny watches you.

Ike Clanton nudges his younger brother. "Ain't she something. A ramera maybe?" Both brothers laugh.

Ringo, a gentleman flashes them both a look. Ringo holds women in such high regard, he considers them angelic beings who can save a man's soul.

"Nah, she ain't no whore," Curly Bill answers. "I can tell. What do you think, Ringo?" When Ringo doesn't answer because he's distracted by you, Curly Bill chuckles.

"I think Johnny might be a wee smitten with this newcomer!"

Johnny turns and looks at Curly. "She's alone. Unless she's meeting someone here. This is a dangerous place for a woman."

"Hell, Juanito. Guess we got ourselves a mystery here," Curly drawls.

The Cowboys watch while you gather a few things and head to the hotel.

Johnny Ringo instinctively tips his hat to you, but maintains his gunfighter persona. He's got a reputation as a feared outlaw and won't let his guard down.

The other Cowboys watch, nodding their heads.

"Howdy, ma'am," Ike Clanton says. You smile and move past them, your perfume intoxicating. The blue and white dress you're wearing hugs your figure just right and your hair is unbound and flows past your shoulders.

During the war, you lost your parents and your sisters and brothers became scattered around Missouri and Kansas, trying to evade the Yankees that still pursued Confederates and like the Cowboys, you're a proud rebel. Your decision to come to Tombstone was not an easy one to make. You could stay near Lars, close to your brothers or move to Liberty, Mission to be close to your sisters. You wanted to free yourself from the memories of the harsh war, just like the Cowboys. No reminder of any kind that everything has been taken from you by the dirty Yankees.

You walk up the steps to the hotel and explain you sent a telegram a few days prior to secure a room until you could find more suitable housing.

John Behan strolls up to you and removes his hat.

"You must be new here. Allow me to introduce myself. John Behan, town sheriff." He smiles, his eyes dancing. "What brings a lovely lady like yourself here?"

"I'm in need of a fresh start," you respond.

"Fresh start?" Behan chuckles a bit. People come to Tombstone to get rich, work as miners or gamble their time away. "And where's your husband?" He asks, taking a drag of his cigar.

You shake your head. "I'm alone."

Behan's dancing eyes grow wide with concern.

"Alone in a town like this? Not wise, ma'am. Whatever you need, you can find me at the sheriff's office. I'll help you become acquainted with some of the more decent folks here," Behan suggests, eyeing the Cowboys.

You pick up your suitcase.

"Here, let me help you with that," Behan suggests, putting his hat back on.

"No, I can manage," you answer with a half smile. You head up the stairs and pour some water into the basin near the bed. You wash your face and change your clothes. Although it's the afternoon, you're exhausted from your trip. You took the train from Missouri to Tucson and then rode the stage to Tombstone.

You fall onto the bed and settle into a secret dream.

When you awake, you gaze out at the night life in town. You can hear the hooting and hollering from men riding up and down Allen Street, their pistols blazing. You pull your blanket tight around you. Fear creeps into your heart and you grow increasingly concerned for your own well being.

Your exhaustion prevents you from heading downstairs. You fall back to sleep and awake the following morning.

The sounds of patrons sitting in the hotel restaurant for breakfast stirs you in your sleep. The walls are so thin, you can hear the clinking of silverware and the murmuring of the people downstairs. You quickly get yourself together, putting on a pink and cream colored dress. You're not one for bonnets or hats, you prefer to keep your hair down.

"Good morning!" The hotel owner announces. "Please sit and have some breakfast!" He heads to the kitchen and then back to the front desk. You can hear the cook singing in the kitchen. The old fellow comes out, mopping his sweaty face with his apron.

"Fatty, the cook gathers some dishes of the patrons who have finished their meals.

"Why do you pay them when I do most of the work?" Fatty barks at the hotel owner.

Emmett Steele, the hotel owner folds his arms as he doesn't like Fatty making scenes or complaining to the customers.

"Help out Fatty, Big Nellie," Steele says to a waitress who's flirting with some of the male customers. Nellie, a woman with considerable girth begins collecting dishes. She takes a half eaten biscuit and shoves it in her mouth while walking to the kitchen. You can hear her and Fatty talking, but you can't make out their words.

Big Nellie approaches your table, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Yes?" She asks.

"Eggs, bacon and biscuits," you order.

Nellie nods without a word and heads to the kitchen. She returns with a coffee cup and pours coffee in the cup.

"I'd like some cream and sugar, please," you request. Nellie nods and returns to the kitchen. She emerges in a few moments, carrying your meal on a tray along with a small cream pitcher and a sugar bowl. She places your breakfast in front of you. You eat quickly, hungrier than you realize. You sip the strong coffee and finish eating, sopping the last of your eggs up with a biscuit. You lick your fingers and then look around. Some folks stare, wondering why a woman would be in such a place alone. You smile as a gesture of your friendliness.

After finishing up the rest of your coffee, you place a dollar bill on the table. Big Nellie quickly grabs the money along with your empty plate. As you walk to the door, Curly Bill and Ringo walk in for breakfast.

Johnny Ringo stands, his demeanor one of intimidation while Curly Bill is a little more jovial.

"Well, good mornin'," Curly says, tipping his hat. He and Ringo find a table and order a large breakfast of hot cakes, eggs, bacon and steak. Pony Diel, who usually runs the chuck wagon didn't prepare breakfast that morning as he was sleeping off his barrel fever. And the fact that both Ringo and Curly got lucky at poker the night before and wanted to spend their winnings in town.

They both ate their breakfast without talking. They sipped coffee in between bites and Big Nellie couldn't keep their coffee cups full. After eating, Curly Bill lights up a cigar and blows the smoke slowly, almost methodically. Big Nellie came to collect their empty plates, looking disappointed that they didn't save any leftovers for her.

"Sorry, Big Nellie," Curly drawls. "Maybe next time. Sides, you know Fatty always serves up free chuck. Beans and tortillas! Everyday!" Curly Bill chuckles. He'd seen Big Nellie stuff herself with two, sometimes three helpings from the chuck Fatty provided. Looking as happy as a pig in mud, Big Nellie indignantly fed herself. And yet, she still got requests for after hour services she provided upstairs.

Big Nellie turns and heads to the kitchen.

While Curly Bill and Ringo walk through Tombstone with their bellies and pockets full, you are walking by the ice cream parlor and you notice a help needed sign. You enter the shop and walk to the counter.

"Well, stranger, what can I whip up for you? We got strawberry, chocolate and vanilla of course. We also have lemon and-."

"I saw your sign and I'll take that job!" The man behind the counter pauses for a moment. He twists the ends of his blonde, curled mustache.

"When can you start?" He asks.

"Now," you reply.

"Name's Jim. Jim Bonney. No relation to William Bonney."

You smile. "YN," you answer.

"Let's get you an apron. Job pays a dollar a day."

"Perfect," you answer. You want to save as much as you can so you can rent a small cottage outside of town. You think about growing a vegetable garden and enjoying the fresh air and peace, away from the bustling boom town. The hotel charges twenty five cents per day so you can easily save up.

Jim shows you where the supplies are, gives you a short tour of the place and trains you on the register. You pick up everything like a champ, learning quickly. You grew up on a farm so you're accustomed to hard work and long hours.

Then the war hit.

You snap out of your momentarily lapse and begin taking orders. The ice cream parlor is always packed, a long line sometimes reaches the door. But you keep working, much to the amazement of Jim who sees you as a fast learner.

At the end of the day, Jim tells you your shift is over. Big Nellie helps with clean up in exchange for the free scoop of ice cream Jim offers in exchange.

As time goes on, you begin to notice some regular customers. Even a few Cowboys come in. They're surprised to see you working there, but then they realize they have more reasons to enjoy ice cream.

"You know that little cutie we saw coming off the stage?" Barnes asks.

Ringo lifts his head, knowing Barnes is referring to you.

"Who could forget that little girl?" Curly Bill drawls, adjusting his hat. "She's got a face that could stop a stampede."

"She's working at the ice cream parlor now."

Ringo, who's usually quiet, ponders the possibility of getting to know you by becoming a regular customer. Besides, ice cream is wonderful on the hottest days.

"Guess we're gonna have to go get ourselves some ice cream, boys!" Curly guffaws. He looks to Ringo who seems lost in thought.

"Whaydya say, Johnny?"

"Sure," Ringo responds.

On this Wednesday afternoon, the crowd died down and you work on odd jobs such as sweeping or cleaning or checking on supplies. You hear the sound of spurs echoing on the wooden sidewalk and you turn your head to see Curly Bill swagger in, he winks at you. Johnny follows. When he sees you, you appear more beautiful than he recalls.

"Well, there's that ray of sunshine," Curly Bill chuckles. You smile, enjoying his charm.

Curly Bill stands tall, exerting his authority and strength. He knows most folks are afraid of him and to his delight, he sees some fear in your demeanor. He wears two gunbelts, one pistol resting on each hip, only adding to the ferocity of his appearance. The only other gunslinger you heard of that sported two pistols like that was Billy the Kid, an active participant in the Lincoln County War between John Tunstall and the Murphy Dolan faction. After Tunstall was shot to death by Murphy men, Tunstall's regulators, led by Bonney sought revenge.

Curly Bill enjoys the intimidation he evokes in you, knowing his presence is threatening. He folds his arms, taking in the flattery he's receiving from your fear.

Johnny Ringo stands tall and silent. He tips his hat to you and you nod.

"What...What can I get you, you ask, your voice shaking.

Curly Bill winks at you. "Well now, let's see," Curly mumbles. "First, what's your name?"

"YN," you respond.

"Mighty nice to meet you. I'm..."

"Curly Bill Brocius," you finish. He smiles wide, knowing you're aware of who he is.

"And this here is Johnny Ringo." Curly says.

Your eyes grow wide with fear. Johnny Ringo, fearless gunfighter with better aim than John Wesley Harding and Billy the Kid. A brooding man with a darkness that swelled inside of him. A darkness so intense, he felt choked by it often. When he fell into the depths of his own madness and marriage of guilt and shame that swirled in him, only a woman could pull him out of it.

Ringo sees your apprehension and curses himself. He was a gentleman born, he treated women with such dignity and respect, that his cowboys knew never to disrespect women if Ringo was within earshot. Like the time Ike Clanton remarked, "You boys see that little cunt from-"

"Damnit, Ike!" Ringo growled. "You keep talking like that, I'll bust you up!"

"Sorry, Ringo. I forgot how sensitive you are about that. Women and all " Ike answered.

From then on, no one dared speak poorly about women.

"We heard there was a lovely lady working here. And the talk around town is true." Curly Bill says.

Johnny nods.

"How about two chocolates," Curly suggests.

"Of course. Would you like a cone or would you prefer scoops in a bowl?"

Curly Bill looks around. Many patrons are enjoying their rich dessert while some are leaving, licking their cones.

"Two cones," Curly answers.

"That's twenty five cents," you tell them, your voice shaking a bit. Curly Bill chuckles to himself. Ringo enjoys dominating other men, but was awe struck when it came to the softer sex.

You give them their treats and Curly Bill gives you a crisp one dollar bill. Since his luck came through the previous evening, he felt it was only fitting to enjoy the town.

"Keep the change," Curly Bill tells you. He winks and walks out of the parlor.

"Thank you," you say to Ringo, your voice barely above a whisper.

Curly Bill devours his ice cream in just a few bites while Ringo savors his a bit longer. His mind goes back to your face and that there's something wildly different about you. It's more than your spirit of desiring some sense of independence in the changing new world since the Yankees won the war. Boom towns seemed to be the last place in the country where lawlessness ruled and for a single woman to make a living in a boom town seemed unusual. Especially one so beautiful.

You lust for adventure; you saw your whole world fall apart during the war. Your brother, Franklin died at Gettysburg and your parents were shot to death by Yankee squatters. You heard stories of Confederate women being forced to set their own houses on fire. The rebels all over the South revolted. Jesse James was one of the more formidable enemies of the Union. He, his brother Frank and the Younger brothers formed a gang of guerillas once ruled by Charlie Quantrill. You heard about how Quantrill and the James Younger gang rode into Lars, Kansas, sporting a black flag. They killed hundreds of Jayhawks that day. The war left the South broken with little opportunities. Unless you wanted to surrender to the dirty Yankees.

You decided you didn't have much else to lose so you may as well see for yourself what all the buzz meant regarding these up and coming towns. And Tombstone was more docile than Dodge or towns in Abilene, but still contained its fair share of violence. Now with the Cowboys and the Earps at odds with each other, it only added to the constant conflict.

But here you are, taking orders for ice cream cones and scoops, using it as an opportunity to meet some of the residents of the boom town.

After Johnny and Curly Bill finish the cold and rich dessert, they head off to the Dead End saloon, located at the end of Allen Street. It stood as one of the oldest saloons in the area, but drinks were cheap and the Cowboys weren't picky about the rameras.

"Women sure are beautiful!" Curly Bill declares, slapping Ringo on the back while they sit at the bar.

Johnny can't get your face out of mind. He sips his whiskey slowly, almost methodically while Curly and a few other cowboys flirt with the whores who gladly showed their merchandise.

Ike Clanton downs his drink and pulls a few bills out of his pocket. Ellen, one of the older prostitutes moves towards Ike who follows her upstairs, watching her hips sway. He wipes his beard and heads inside one of the rooms for Ellen's special treatment.

Curly Bill, Stilwell and a few others continue drinking and talking for a little longer. Then they took, followed the women upstairs.

Annie, one of the other whores was wiping down the mahogany bar and she glances over at Johnny. He motions for another whiskey and she brings him the bottle. He downs two shots and then stares out the window as if waiting for something.

"You alright, cowboy?" She asks.

"Please don't call me that," Ringo requests gently.

Annie nods. "You just look as though you forgot what women are for," Annie remarks.

Ringo looks at her.

"Ever think about someone special?" He asks.

"If I did, I wouldn't be doing this job!" Annie answers, laughing in an unlady-like manner.

"Come on upstairs, Johnny. Let me remind you what women are for."

Ringo is tempted. He values women and is nothing without their touch. But he can't get your face out of his mind.

"Maybe some other time." He remarks.

"Well, if all you're gonna do is drink hootch, you should take it somewhere else, Johnny." Annie reminds him.

Johnny takes one last shot and heads to the door. He goes to the livery where Amos, a kid from New Mexico is practicing with his shiny new pistol.

"Saddle her for me, Amos," Ringo requests.

Amos puts his gun back in the holster. "Hey, Mr. Ringo? Did Curly Bill really ride with Billy the Kid like he said? You think I'll ever be that fast?" Amos' eyes light up. Ringo chuckles at the site of the awkward kid who had dreams of being a gunfighter.

"Hell, I don't know when Curly is spinning yarn or telling the truth. He's a damn good storyteller though. I'll give him that."

Amos secures the saddle and Ringo inspects the cinch out of habit. "You've done good, Amos." Ringo gives the kid fifty cents.

"Well! Much obliged, Mr. Ringo!" Amos declares.

Ringo heads back to camp to spend some time alone. Your face in his brain and with every step, his heart aches more. He cannot understand the intense hold you have over him. He's seen pretty faces before. But something about you seemed strange and mysterious. He wonders what losses you endured under the Yankee oppression. His thoughts go back to the farm he grew up on. How his mother, so strong and beautiful picked up the pieces of their shattered lives after the death of Johnny's father. His mother often sat, a Bible in her lap and she would recite silent prayers. Time showed kindness to her; she maintained her beauty even though she worked tirelessly.

Ringo admired his mother and her strength. She expected all of her children to attend church every Sunday and Bible studies during the week. The scriptures tore at Johnny's aching heart that longed for life beyond the confinements of farm life.

Then he had a chance to attend a few semesters at a college in Kansas. His journey to the school seemed so long and lonely and he almost missed the farm. He studied for long hours, the sciences proved more difficult than literature. When not studying for the next chemistry exam, he would read. He blew through Shakespeare's plays and sonnets and also enjoyed Homer's work. He recalls reading about Sirens; beautiful women who presented themselves like angelic beings before they devoured unsuspecting sailors. He entertains the idea that you possess the qualities of a Siren. His mind spins when he thinks of you and can feel weakness creep into his soul. He shakes his head.

"Come on, old cowboy," he tells himself.

His thoughts return to the present. He pickets his horse and grabs a bottle of whiskey and lets the strong, burning drink move down to his belly. Two things he can't seem to live without: women and whiskey. He leans against a few rocks and sips his drink. A few Cowboys return, looking to get some sleep. The hot Arizona sun begins to melt behind the mountains in the distance. Ringo closes his eyes and falls into a dream.

In his dream, the sun's almost blinding light surrounds him in a blanket of warmth. He feels his heart lighten. In a soft breeze, he can hear your voice..."Johnny," just above a whisper. He looks at the large boulders and the trees that frame the spot he's in. He follows your voice to find you.

"Johnny, I'm here and everything is alright," you say, brushing the hair away from his face. Standing so close, he pulls you towards him and when he moves to kiss you, you disappear, leaving him with an ache in his heart. Dark clouds swell around him and cold rain begins to beat down on him. He wakes up panting.

"Holy Father of sinners," he says softly. He retrieves a pencil and some paper he's been collecting. He writes an entry in a new journal.

YN came to Tombstone and changed everything. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I can't get her out of my racing mind. I resolve to have her. One way or another...

He tries to continue writing, but the words don't come to mind. His thoughts are like leaves in the wind that cannot settle. He wonders what you're doing and every time he closes his eyes, he's tormented by your sweet face and adventurous spirit.

He continues drinking, hoping it will numb his feelings.

You finish up your shift, collect your earnings and head to the hotel restaurant. They're still serving supper and you take a small table for yourself. Not in the mood to socialize, you eat by yourself, another trait not seen in many people. Your comfort with yourself seems odd and unusual, but inspiring all at the same time. You simply enjoy your meal while reading a book or the Tombstone Newspaper.

Big Nellie collects your plate and you give her twenty five cents which she grabs with her greedy fingers. You let out a sigh and head upstairs to bed. You fall asleep while reading. When you wake up the following morning, you realize you don't work that day so you decide to spend some time seeing the sites of the town.

You purchase a new dress; a plain brown skirt with a pink shirt with ruffles. "You look lovely, Mrs. Trask, the dress shop owner says. "We also have material if you want to make your own dresses. Can I show you?"

You shake your head and smile. "Just another shirt maybe."

"Certainly, dear." She returns with two blouses; one periwinkle blue and the other a plain beige. You purchase the items and then head to the stationary to look around and at the small music shop. After that, you decide to treat yourself to a drink. You enter a saloon and all eyes turn to you. A woman alone in a saloon usually meant she provided special services, but many folks have come to know you from the ice cream parlor.

You can hear the jingle of spurs and you turn to see Johnny Ringo walking in, following Curly Bill.

"Well, ain't this real nice, Johnny," Curly Bill nudges Johnny who sees you and can feel his face grow red. You turn and your heart skips a beat, partly from the fear they evoke and partly because you find yourself drawn to the Byronic Johnny Ringo.

"What's a pretty lady like you doin' here?" Curly Bill asks.

You stumble over your words and Curly Bill winks at your vulnerability.

Johnny Ringo leans in and asks, "please let me buy you a drink." He immediately regrets asking, but to his surprise, you say yes by nodding your head. Curly Bill, seeing Johnny's feelings, heads to the bar, leaving Johnny alone with you.

"This isn't the safest place for a lady," Johnny says in a low voice. "Not one like you. You should allow me to escort you. It would be my honor." He swallows hard, hoping you don't reject his concern.

You smile at him. "I appreciate that, Johnny." You answer.

While you sit through an awkward silence, you ask him where he's from.

"Texas," he answers. "You?"

"Missouri. Lost our farm when Yankees came through."

Johnny nods, understanding full well the loss the war created. "Us too," he says softly. "It seems so long ago, but it also feels like it just happened," you admit. Ringo nods.

"What are you drinking?" He asks.

"Maybe a glass of red wine." You answer.

Johnny motions for the bartender and asks for the best red wine in town. A few moments later, a waitress returns with a glass of red and a bottle of whiskey for Johnny. He looks over at Curly Bill z who's practicing his charm on the saloon girls.

"Old Curly thinks he's a lady's man," Ringo chuckles to himself.

While enjoying the company of Ringo, Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday walks in, their eyes narrowing in on you.

Wyatt comes to the ice cream parlor often so you're already acquainted, but you haven't met Doc Holliday.

"What do you think you're doing, Ringo?" Wyatt grunts.

He feels a hot redness move from his belly to his head.

"Earp," Ringo responds.

"Maybe you should take it somewhere else, Mr. Ringo," Doc drawls, taking a drag of his cigarette. His dark eyes look sunken against his pale, almost gray skin.

"He's here because I asked him to join me," you respond, doing the best to keep your cool.

"Ringo?" Wyatt demands. "You think I believe that?"

You understand the dilemma of the moment and because you like Johnny, you want to defend him.

"It's true, Wyatt," you answer, your voice with more confidence.

"I'll be watching, cowboy," Wyatt remarks before heading to the bar for a beer.

Ringo feels a rage swelling in him and humiliation he just endured proves too much.

"I should go. You should go." He says, his voice full of sadness. "You shouldn't be seen with me. It could give people the wrong impression."

His eyes, so full of confusion look down in shame. His guilt bubbles to the surface, reminding him he cannot ever be with someone like you.

He turns and leaves...

You let out a sigh. Curly Bill heads upstairs with one of the whores just as Wyatt and Doc approach you.

"YN, don't you know who that is? That's Johnny Ringo and if you're smart, you'll stay away from him. Trust me, that man is nothing but trouble. Nothing..."

"You need to ponder the consequences of such an association, my dear," Doc coughs, his blood shot eyes taking you in. "Not that I blame that worthless gunfighter. You're as lovely as a Georgia peach."

You move past Wyatt and Doc.

"YN!" Wyatt calls. "Stay away from him!" Wyatt catches up with you. Doc trails behind, his sickness making it difficult to walk quickly.

You turn to face Wyatt. "You don't know him!"

"I know the type. I've dealt with them long before my time in Kansas! He's nothing but trouble and you'll regret ever associating yourself with him. Take my word for it! I've locked up plenty of men like Ringo!" Wyatt grunts.

Doc Holliday finally reaches them. "Forgive my pace. As a Southern gentleman, I am quite lazy." Doc begins coughing, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and covers his mouth. He notices a small drop of blood on the handkerchief. He crumbles it up and puts it away.

"Wyatt is correct in his assessment of your gunfighter friend," Doc agrees.

"Why can't I judge for myself?" You demand.

"That's a sharp tongue you got there. You'd best stay out of trouble!" Wyatt demands.

You turn to see if you can find Johnny. He's leaning against a post, lighting a cigarette. He sees you coming closer and he puts the cigarette out.

"Johnny," you beg. "Why did you just run off like that?" You're almost out of breath.

"You shouldn't be seen with me," he tells you, his eyes full of shame and sorrow. "You're too special for this town. You should go back to where you came from!" You can hear the pain in his voice. He tips his hat to you.

"Good day, ma'am."

"Johnny! Wait!" You exclaim. A few townspeople look at the scene in shock, shaking their heads.

"Johnny!"

Johnny Ringo turns to you. "YN, you can't just run up to me like that. Don't you know how dangerous this place is? Besides, reputation is everything around here. I'd hate to see you branded with a reputation because of your association with me." He takes his hat off. "Trust me, I'm not worth your trouble." He looks intently into your eyes as if waiting for something.

"Can we just take a walk?" You suggest. "Just talk?"

He shakes his head. "I don't want anyone to think you're with me. It won't go well for either of us. That I can promise." You watch a tormented Johnny Ringo walk to the Silver Palace saloon.

You can feel your heart swell with defeat and sadness. You know what he's telling you is true; Tombstone was a town where reputation meant everything and once you've been branded it ain't easy to change what people think.

Ringo doesn't want anyone associating you with the red light district. He feels the special spirit that flows from you is too beautiful. Too important and he knows he could never forgive himself if anything happened to you.

You slowly walk back to the hotel. You decide to count what you've earned and start looking for a more permanent residence.

You head to the local real estate office. Bob Miller, an investor puffs on his cigar while shuffling through papers. He was a short and heavy set man who was always wiping his sweaty head with a handkerchief. You enter and he looks up and puts the papers aside.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" He asks, surprised to see a woman standing before him without a man.

"I want to see about renting a small cottage. Just one bedroom."

Bob stands, puffs his cigar and pulls his pants up as they're always hanging below his large belly.

"Your husband isn't here with you?" He asks.

"No. I'm not married. It's just for me."

He glances at you, his eyes wide. "Well, the bank doesn't loan money to women and well, we never had a woman renting anything here by herself. You fixin' to stay here for a while?"

"Yes. My business is my own. I-"

"Hold on, little lady. You plan on starting a sporting house? With one bedroom?"

You give him a confused look as he is implying you're a prostitute looking to rent a house and convert it to a house of ill repute.

"No. I work at the ice cream parlor. I just don't want to stay in town. That's all!" You clarify.

He continues puffing his cigar, looking a bit restless. "I've got a few little cottages open. But for me to take you without a husband... Well, I just don't know about that."

"Just tell me where it is! I can meet you there."

He looks over at you. He sees your desperation.

"Four fifty a month. I'll need the first month's rent in advance. Place hasn't been properly cleaned yet."

You open your purse and hand him a ten dollar bill. Since you began working, you've managed to save forty five dollars.

Bob checks the bill and puts his hat on.

"Ride past Oak Hill, I'll meet you at the pond." He tells you.

"I don't have a horse yet," you tell him. "Haven't had the need just yet."

"Well, Jack Pierce owns the livery. You can ask him to show you a few good animals. He's got a few geldings you might be interested in."

"Alright," you answer. "Thank you. I'll meet you at the pond."

Once you secure a home, you decide you'll purchase a horse and a good saddle.

Johnny Ringo stands at the bar and orders whiskey. He downs two shots and then pours another, wanting to sip it slowly. He feels like a fool for letting you go. His protective side showed itself; he's a pure gentleman and would do anything to feel the comfort of a woman's touch. And for her to show any signs of concern ignites a fire in him so strong, even Wyatt's icy blue stare could melt it.

At the Silver Palace saloon, Johnny is drowning his sorrows with whiskey and poker. He'd been lucky so far; a full house, two pairs of Jacks and three of a kind. He downs his last shot, collects his winnings and moves towards the door. Before he can exit, Wyatt, Morgan and Virgil walk in. Ringo Ringo tips his hat and moves past them.

"Not so fast, cowboy," Virgil warns.

"A man can't drink and play poker around here?" Ringo barks back. He's drunk, stumbling around.

"You can play all the poker you want and drink yourself into the grave for all we care," Morgan interjects.

"Stay away from YN," Wyatt demands.

"I told her already! You self righteous sons of bitches!" Ringo's head is spinning.

"Good. We have enough trouble around here with your kind!" Virgil groans.

"What about your kind?" Ringo asks indignantly.

"Sober up, cowboy!" Wyatt warns.

At that moment, Doc Holliday strolls in.

"Well, Mr. Ringo. Evidently you have succeeded in the task of making a complete fool of yourself."

"Damn you to hell, lunger!" Ringo spews.

"I reckon I just might," Holiday answers sarcastically.

Wyatt takes a hold of Ringo and tosses him aside. Ringo stumbles and hits the floor, an intense rage burning inside of him. He desperately wants to fight Holliday, but even in his drunken state, he has enough sense to know he's slower and Doc's hands were steady even after he's downed enough whiskey to kill a horse.

Ringo pulls himself to his feet. He turns and leaves quickly, not wanting to get into a shootout. In his frustration and anger, he can see your face and it fills him with a mixture of joy and sadness. Joy that he knows you and sadness in the reality that he can never have you.

He kicks the dirt while he goes to find Curly Bill who's enjoying moonshine with Claudia, the ramera he was with.

"Juanito!" Curly Bill bellows when Ringo enters the place.

"Meet Claudia," Curly says, tapping the woman on the behind. "She'll take real good care of you! Won't you, sweetheart?" Curly Bill winks at her.

"Of course, Johnny. Tell me what I can do for you."

Ringo looks away and heads to the bar.

"Aw, come on, son!" Curly Bill grunts, taking a shot of moonshine. "It ain't nothing!"

"Maybe next time," he says.

Curly Bill knows not to push Johnny. He watches his friend suck back shots at the bar.

"What's gotten into you, Ringo?" Curly inquires, motioning for the bartender.

"Don't ask, Curly. My head ain't straight."

"Of course it ain't! All them books you're always reading. I sure as hell wouldn't waste my time reading!" Curly Bill declares, guffawing loudly.

Johnny smirks. "It wouldn't hurt for you to spend a little time learning," he groans.

"I know all I need to know, Johnny! My game is rustling cows and horses too. Hell, I don't need to read old Willy Shakespeare for that. You may be smarter and well better lookin' than Old Curly, but I'm as tough as they come." Curly Bill sucks back his drink.

"You ain't still thinking about that little lady from the ice cream parlor?" Curly asks inquisitively.

Johnny turns and gives Curly a look. "You wouldn't understand," Johnny says.

"Johnny, I understand that women like Claudia over there are the best it's ever gonna get for us. May as well enjoy it while you can!"

Ringo stares Curly Bill down, knowing the big rustler was right.

"Ringo, Tombstone is a dangerous place and it ain't no place for a lady like that. You'd be doin' nothing but protecting her. What would folks around here say? You'd have those damn Earps breathing down your neck all the time and everyone here would assume she's a chippie. If you care about her, you won't get involved with her. She'd just break your heart anyhow."

"Enough, Curly." Ringo groans.

"Alright, son. Just giving ya some friendly advice is all." Curly turns and looks at the saloon and the patrons filling up the place. "Women are wonderful, ain't they Johnny?" Curly laughs.

"Yes. They are, Curly. They sure are." Ringo takes the bottle and heads to the door. He moves through the batwings and heads to the livery. Amos is, as usual practicing with his pistol.

"Saddle her, Amos," Ringo says calmly.

Amos replaces the gun in the holster. "Sure thing, Mr. Ringo!" The kid answers. "I'm gettin' real good with this here pistol! I might be faster than Charlie Quantrill someday!" Amos looks confused for a moment. "Hey, was Jesse James as fast as Quantrill?" Amos asks.

Ringo shakes his head while checking the saddle.

"I don't know, kid. I used to think I knew. Keep practicing. You never know when you're gonna up against someone real fast." Ringo tips his hat and spurs his horse along. "Come on, girl. Take this old cowboy home." He laughs. "Home?" The only home he ever had was in Texas. He headed back to camp. A few Cowboys were there, firing shots at empty whiskey bottles. They nod at Ringo, acknowledging his presence. Johnny takes the bottle of whiskey and sneaks away into his tent where he can experience solitude. He begins to write in his journal...

She doesn't know how dangerous it is around here. She's naive and lovely. I'm not sure why I can't stop thinking about her. I want to be the man that protects her. Perhaps I could take a walk with her...

Ringo closes his journal and tosses it aside. He holds his head in his hands, unable to shake the intense hold you seem to have over him.

He falls asleep and enters into another dream. This time he feels the oppression of the Union in his heart. He can see a house on fire. He covers his mouth to avoid the smoke and moves towards the house. Then he sees you...

"Johnny!" You scream. "Help me!" You run towards the front door, but it collapses before Johnny can save you. He awakes, gasping for air.

"YN!" He looks around. Then he realizes his reality.

Johnny rubs his temples while he sits up. He wishes he never saw you set foot off that stage...

You and Bob plan to meet at the cottage that afternoon so you gather a few things together and walk to the pond located just south of Oak Hill. When you arrive, the cottage looks somewhat new and there's room in the front for a small vegetable garden. You envision yourself pulling weeds out in between small rows of potatoes, zucchini, carrots and onions. You smile to yourself. With a location outside of town, you keep your fingers crossed that Johnny Ringo will come see you. You know he cares for you and you feel a rush of warmth and excitement flow through your body when you see him. If you could just break through those walls he hides behind...

"Ah, there you are." Bob pulls in the reins on the horse pulling his small, black carriage. He hops down, almost losing his balance and you can't help but laugh at the scene. He wipes his head with a handkerchief and grabs a small stack of papers. He pulls a key out of his pocket and leads you up the small stairs to the front door. The heavy door swings open and you both walk in, the door creaking.

It's perfect! You smile to yourself.

A round throw rug with dark patterns lays on the wooden floor and the kitchen is to your left. A small vase of silk flowers rests on a small table with four chairs and just past a small hallway lies the bedroom. A well furnished room with a twin bed decorated with a white and blue bedspread and a bookshelf is located on the wall near the door.

"Well, like I said, it's small. Perfect for a person alone. Oh, he says, let's go over everything."

You both sit at the table, you move the vase to the small wooden counter. Bob takes a pen out of his pocket and shuffles through the paperwork.

"I can rent it to you for a one year lease. After one year, rent usually goes up a bit. But not much around here. Most folks stay in town."

After you sign the lease, Bob gives you a copy of the agreement and a receipt for the first month's rent.

"You can move in now." Bob tells you. He puts his hat back on. He fiddles with the reins of his horse. "I'd give you a ride back into town, but uh... Reputation is very important around these parts. Would hate to see a lovely lady like yourself the center of town gossip."

"I understand," you answer. Johnny already informed you about the importance of reputation in a town like Tombstone.

You enter the home and put away a few things. You didn't bring much with you because you figured you could purchase whatever items you needed. The place looks clean and well managed. No dust lies on the bedspread and some dishes occupy the modest cupboard. You check for silverware and find a few random spoons and forks. You pump some water into the sink and feel pleased you have water. You glance outside at the soil in the front and sides of the house. You decide to go into town in a bit to purchase some grub at the general store; some fruit, fresh vegetables, bread, fresh eggs, a small side of bacon and coffee. Then your next goal involves purchasing a reasonable horse. You know you'll need a carriage or little buckboard. You refused a side saddle some time ago and you fear what people will think of they see you riding without your knees touching.

You pour some water into a basin and wash your hands and face. While you're wiping your face with a towel, you think of Johnny and wonder what the cowboy is up to.

Johnny sits outside his tent, leaning on the chuck wagon. He sips his whiskey slowly and listens to the slow cackling of the fire. He tosses stones into the fire. His thoughts return to you and the day you ran up to him in the middle of the street. His eyes fall to the ground. He fears for your safety and also desires you; he can't remember when he wanted something so badly.

A part of him wants to go to the hotel, break your door down and take you, making wild love to you. Then when he allows his mind to imagine you struggling under him, he's filled with guilt and shame. He sips more whiskey and stares into the fire. Pony Diel is on the other side of the chuck wagon rolling dough into biscuits. He whistles to himself, singing in between:

"I'm a good old rebel and that's just what I am...I'm glad we fought against it, only wish we'd won." He continues whistling.

Johnny finishes the last line for Pony..."I don't need no pardon for anything I done..."

Johnny lights up a cigarette, using his boot to strike the match. He lets the smoke billow from his mouth in a small funnel. "What's for supper, Pony?" Johnny asks.

Pony chuckling. "Biscuits, bacon and beans. You expectin' something better? Go into town. Out here, it's cowboy grub. Take it or leave it. Should be ready in a little spell." Pony goes back to whistling while Johnny finds his Bowie knife. His toenails have grown to the point where his feet feel cramped in his leather boots.

He removes his boots and then his socks. He wiggles his toes and begins to slice each toenail carefully. Each cut reminds him of the different events he'd been through. He can hear Curly Bill's loud guffawing and the sound of Curly's horse trotting into the camp

"Hey, Billy!" Curly calls Billy Clanton.

"Yeah, Curly?" Billy asks.

"Picket my horse, will you? But don't ride him. Just walk him over."

Billy complies and takes Curly's horse to the picket line and removes the saddle.

"Well, look at that?" Curly chuckles. "Johnny Ringo, feared outlaw tendin' to his toenails!"

"Gotta do some grooming, Bill. Makes me remember I'm still human. Johnny looks down at his calloused feet, the balls and heels are dirty with deep cracks in the callouses. He finishes up.

"You got competition in the ugly feet department," Curly laughs. "I gotta tend to my own doggies soon. Your feet ain't as ugly as mine!" Curly grunts.

Johnny continues his work. "Nobody alive has feet as ugly as yours," Ringo reminds Curly Bill.

"I reckon so." Curly answers. "But hell, gotta tend to those little things. Even us outlaws gotta take care of certain things."

Johnny finishes up and puts his socks back on, then his boots. Curly Bill sighs and can feel his own overgrown toenails.

"Well, it's my turn, I reckon."

Johnny lights up a cigarette. Curly Bill takes his knife and then removes his boots. He shakes them out and then takes his socks off.

"Damn, Bill," Johnny remarks, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Make it quick before you stink up this whole place."

Curly Bill guffaws loudly while he begins the task of cutting his toenails. Scars from riding in rough terrain showed in the sunset. Curly wiggles his toes for emphasis. "These feet have been through a lot. They ain't tender, that's for sure."

"Ain't seen my own toes for a spell." His evens his jagged toenails so they don't snag his socks.

"Well, they ain't pretty, but they'll do."

"They're downright awful," Johnny answers, taking one last drag of his cigarette.

Curly Bill chuckles and skips his feet back into his boots, the familiar feeling of leather bringing him a hint of comfort.

"Juanito, you still thinkin' about that little lady? Not that I blame you. She's beautiful."

Johnny feels a pang in his heart. "Bill, she's gonna get me killed."

"I reckon. You start daydreaming about her when we're out rustling cows, you could lose your head real fast. You won't be fast no more."

"I know that," Johnny answers. "My hands aren't steady when I'm thinking about her. And that damn Doc Holliday. He can down enough rot gut to kill a damn horse and I've never seen hands so steady." Johnny shakes his head.

At that moment, Pony rings the chuck wagon iron. "Chuck's on! Come and get it!"

"Let's eat, Johnny." Curly Bill says.

The Arizona sun begins to set and the air feels still with the occasional breeze filtering through town. You walk quickly to the livery where Amos is sharpening a knife. When he sees you, he quickly puts the weapon away and tips his hat. His awkwardness due to his youth is endearing to you.

"Afternoon, ma'am? I don't have your horse. Least I don't remember putting up any horse for ya."

You shake your head. "I'm looking for Mr. Pierce. Id like to purchase a good quarter horse if you got one."

Amos shifts a little. "Yes, ma'am. We gotta a few quarter horses. I'll get Pierce for you. He's over at the assay office! I'll fetch him for ya."

When Amos returns, he follows Jack Pierce. Pierce, a tall man with dark features and wearing a new suit walks towards you. He tips his hat. You acknowledge him with a nod.

"We got a quarter horse, she just came in last week. You're just in time. You need a saddle too? I got a few used side saddles -"

"I want to purchase a small carriage and a traditional saddle."

"You plan on riding without a side saddle?" Pierce inquires, raising his eyebrows.

"I would like to ride the small carriage into town. There's a small area around the back of the ice cream parlor."

"Well, iffin' you ride in on your saddle, you can leave her here at the livery. Ten cents a day."

"Ten cents..." You ponder. With rent being $4.50 per month and another forty cents for the livery, you believe you can afford it. Since you plan on growing a vegetable garden, you wouldn't need to purchase too much grub in town. If you need, you can help yourself to the free chuck Fatty provides during the day.

"Do you have a carriage?" You inquire.

"Certainly, young lady. Come to the office here, we'll get everything in order for you."

Amos tips his hat to you as you leave. "Ma'am," he drawls.

"Get Daisy ready, boy," Pierce orders. "Get a saddle too. Check to make sure it's sturdy with a good cinch."

"Yes, sir," Amos responds. While Amos is busy with the horse and saddle, you follow Pierce to his small office. Pictures of Appaloosas and Arabians decorate the wall.

"Alright," Pierce begins. "Daisy is a reliable quarter. She won't give you any trouble. But I wouldn't enter her in any races anytime."

You chuckle under your breath. Pierce fills out a contract. You give him the money for the horse and agree to rent the carriage for five cents a day.

Everything is coming together. You say to yourself.

When you return, Daisy is secured to the carriage which only seats two people. It's a light brown color with beige trim. Nothing fancy, but good enough for you.

"Thank you!" You tell Amos, who blushes at your compliment.

"Sure thing, ma'am. Happy to help!"

You brush Daisy with your hands and she whinnies softly. "Come on, girl!" You mount the carriage and drive yourself home. Once you arrive, you unhitch Daisy and secure her in the small stable provided. The stable was built to house only one horse. You ensure she has oats and water before you massage her with a brush, talking softly to her. "We're gonna be friends, Daisy. You're going to help me win his heart, aren't you?" You smile to yourself. Johnny will see you as capable and independent now. And he won't have the fear of being together in town; he can easily ride out to your place to avoid public scrutiny. Your determination to secure a relationship with Johnny Ringo grows more intensely now.

You kiss Daisy good night and head inside. While in town, you picked up some grub so you fix yourself a little stew and tea and then get into bed, ready to start your day in the morning.

When you wake up, you can feel a soft breeze flow into the open window. You can hear Daisy neighing in the stable. The sky reflects in a bowl of blue with a few clouds moving slowly through the dying wind.

You rise, make yourself some coffee and prepare for your day. You ride your new carriage into town and unhitch Daisy, taking her to the livery.

"Ma'am!" Amos declares. "Nice to see you today! I'll take care of Daisy for ya."

You give Amos twenty five cents to pay for a few days and then give him a five cent tip.

"Much obliged, ma'am!" Amos says.

"Thank, Amos!"

While walking to the ice cream parlor, you see a help needed sign at the hotel restaurant. You decide to talk to Steele and Fatty while on your break to see if the job pays more than a dollar a day.

While scooping ice cream for patrons looking for relief from the heat, you hope Johnny Ringo comes in. Throughout the morning, you don't see him. You sigh, remove your apron and tell Bob you're taking your break.

You head to the hotel restaurant for lunch. Big Nellie is sitting at the counter, sopping up beans with a tortilla. She ignores you and continues eating, licking her fingers indignantly.

Fatty comes out of the kitchen, mopping his sweaty face with his apron. "Oh, Nellie! You keep eating, you ain't gonna be able to see your feet no more!"

"You should talk!" Big Nellie answers with her mouth full.

"You see?" Fatty tells you. "Stuffs herself all the time while I do most of the work!"

"Get a table ready for YN," Steele orders Fatty.

"Of course." Fatty answers. He brings you to a small table. "Special today, roast with mashed potatoes."

You gaze at the paper menu. "Light lunch, please."

"Of course! A special vegetable soup and a little salad. Sound good to you?" You nod.

After you finish your meal, you walk over to Steele.

"You're looking for help?"

"Yes," Steele answers. This place is getting busy and Big Nellie can't keep up with the demands. We need some assistance."

"What's the pay?" You inquire.

"Pay a buck fifty per day plus tips." Steele scratches his head and asks, "Beg your pardon, but aren't you working for Bonney at the ice cream parlor? You're looking for a change?"

"Something like that." You respond.

"Well, give Bonney a notice," Steele suggests. "He won't mind. Big Nellie is always available."

"Sounds reasonable." You say. "I'll let him know today. When can I start?"

Steele looks at you. "How about the first of next month?"

"Looks like I'll be seeing you next month," you say.

You walk back to the parlor full of excitement and a bit of apprehension.

You keep watching to see if Johnny comes in, but to your disappointment, he never shows. You hear plenty of commotion coming from the street and you can hear Curly Bill's loud guffawing while he struts down the street, baiting law enforcement officers to take his pistols.

At the end of your shift, Big Nellie comes in to help clean and get her free scoop of ice cream.

After you give Big Nellie a heaping scoop of vanilla ice cream, you remove your apron and go to where Bonney is counting receipts.

"Mr. Bonney, I have to give my notice. I've been offered a job at the restaurant."

Bonney removes his glasses and looks at you.

"Well, it sure was nice having you. But there's always Big Nellie and there's a couple of ladies from the sporting house that can help. Not as pretty as you, but I understand you need to earn a little more."

You nod. Nothing will stop you from positioning yourself in line so you can talk to Johnny Ringo. You know the Cowboys eat at the restaurant often so it's the perfect place for you to work.

"Thank you, Mr. Bonney." You tell him.

Bonney puts his glasses back on and returns to the business of counting receipts. He clears his throat.

"This is a growing town, there will be plenty of people looking for work. How about you give me one more week?"

"Yes, of course!" You respond with delight. You hang up your apron and head out the door.

It's all coming together! You say to yourself.

Your last week drags on, but your determination keeps you going. With each scoop, each end of your shift, you become closer to serving Curly Bill, Johnny Ringo and the other Cowboys that dine at the restaurant. You chuckle to yourself while working.

Johnny Ringo and Curly Bill head to the Oriental to play a few rounds of poker, hoping to get lucky.

Wyatt sits at the Faro table while Doc and Morgan stand around, watching.

Curly Bill and Ringo sit at the poker table with a few other patrons and start playing. The first round, Curly wins with a full house and the second round, Johnny gets three of a kind. Wyatt quietly observes the Cowboys, ensuring they don't start any trouble.

Curly Bill tips his hat to Wyatt.

Curly Bill's luck continues so he plays a few more rounds before lighting up a cigar.

"Well, guess I'm good at this game." Curly declares. Both Ringo and Curly head to the bar to order more whiskey. Curly looks around at the few sporting ladies.

"What are ya thinkin', Johnny?" Curly bellows curiously.

"How bout spending some of our ill gotten gains on some lady fun? Little taste of home sweet home?"

Ringo feels tempted and imagines holding you close. Every other woman would remind him of you and although he's desperate for a woman's touch, his throbbing masculinity is almost unbearable, he decides against it.

"Oh, come on, Johnny. Women are beautiful. Women make everything better, don't they?" Curly says low. Johnny nods and decides his bodily functions won't relent and with the mounting pressure laying on his mind, he knows a woman can release the rage that consumes him. He follows Curly Bill up the stairs. Curly guffaws while tapping the behind of the woman he chose to lay with.

Johnny knocks on a closed door and a Mexican ramera opens it.

"He follows her curves and although the room fills him with a rare sense of tranquility, he feels saddened that he cannot make love to you. He also hopes you do not learn of his tendencies towards prostitutes; the only women who seem pleased to see him. Even when he reeks of whiskey, they offer smiles and kind words. Women were the only people he knew that ever showed him concern; even if that concern comes with a price, he doesn't care that much. A woman who tells him to stay careful fills him with inexplicable joy and comfort.

"I'm Maria. Tell me what I can do for you."

Johnny takes his hat off and she moves closer. They fall into a passionate kiss and Ringo holds her with the intensity he would if you were in his arms.

After his rage is released through her affection, she lays her head on his chest.

"I need you, YN..." Johnny whispers.

Maria sits up and looks at him.

"She must be something special if I can't distract you from her." She tells him, her accent thick and barely recognizable.

"Si," Johnny says softly.

Maria returns to her position, enjoying the gentleman gunfighter. He strokes her hair and she moves her hand to touch his face and she feels tears at his temples.

"You are ok, senor?" She asks.

Johnny wants to believe she genuinely cares. He knows you would...But he embraces the illusion anyway.

Instead of answering her, he makes love to her again, wanting to experience the passion of a woman. The only passion worth risking everything for.

Johnny Ringo falls asleep while Maria rests her head on his chest. His dreams bring him little relief; he imagines you on top of him, your strong thighs keeping you well balanced. He brushes the hair away from your face and you look at him with desire. You throw your head back and let out a sigh of passion. He moves his hands on your body; cupping and caressing your breasts while you ride him delicately with just enough strength and pressure to drive him wild. You smile down at him before throwing him over so he's on top of you. He slowly removes the little clothing you still wear, licking the space between your bossom. He gently laughs while you enjoy the moment too. He spreads your legs apart and uses his strength to keep you still. While you lay in helpless delight, he gently tickles your flower until you burst with pure ecstasy.

When he awakes from his peaceful and amazing dream, he feels his heart pounding with intensity so great, he needs to stand up to shake it out of him. He moves to wash his face, splashing water on himself from the basin that's available. He glances into the small mirror provided and only sees the sadness in his eyes. The longing for the true love of a good woman. And the only woman he can dream of is you.

"Senor Ringo," Maria says.

"Can I bring you more pleasure? Can I help you forget YN?"

Johnny flashes her a look of anger. She backs away and Johnny softens his approach.

"Lo siento..." Johnny says, taking her hand and kisses it.

"Esta Bien," Johnny tells her, his eyes growing intensely sad, full of guilt and shame. He always carried a space of shame when he indulged in the pleasures of women.

Ringo allows her to pleasure him again. While she mounts him and brings him to the moment when he's fully released from his rage, he feels his heart swell with sadness. He allows his tears to flow. He closes his eyes and falls into a fantasy that his moment of ecstasy is brought on by your touch.

Ringo generously pays her and gives her a little extra for her discretion. He leaves, feeling less full of rage and frustration, but guilt and shame creep around his heart. He lets out a sigh and composes himself. He walks with his signature gait back to the livery.

Amos was sitting down reading a dime novel. When he sees Ringo, he immediately stands, adjusting his hat.

"Says here Billy the Kid shot a man from fifty yards away! You think I'll ever do that?"

Ringo smiles at the naive boy, who has dreams of becoming a gunfighter. "I don't know, kid. I used to think I knew a lot of things. But remember, people don't choose to become gunslingers. The gunslinger life chooses us."

Amos looks confused. "Whatchu mean, Mr. Ringo?"

Ringo shakes his head. Amos saddles the horse for Johnny.

"Nice quarter horse," Johnny remarks. "When she get here?"

Amos shrugs. "Little over a week ago. YN from the ice cream parlor is keeping her here."

"Is that so?" Johnny asks, his voice just above a whisper.

"Matter of fact, I reckon," Amos responds. "She sure is a sweet lady, ain't she?"

Ringo looks to the ground. "She is that," he answers.

"Well, she told me she's gonna be working at the hotel restaurant."

"When?" Ringo inquires.

"Day she bought Daisy. Sure is a nice horse."

"I wonder why she..." Ringo begins thinking. He and the Cowboys enjoy dinner at th toe hotel restaurant often. His heart skips a beat thinking about seeing her more regularly.

"What's that, Mr. Ringo?" Amos asks.

"Nothing." As always, he checks the cinch. After he mounts his horse he heads to camp.

The following morning, you wake up early, eager to start your first day at the restaurant. You make yourself a small breakfast and some coffee. Once ready, you go to the stable to retrieve Daisy. She whinnies and seems happy to see you. You talk to her while hitching her to the carriage.

"It's coming together, girl. I won't give up. Don't let me give up, girl!" You kiss Daisy in the nose. You decide to pick up some carrots for her after your shift ends. You enter the carriage.

"Giddyap, girl!" You say, your voice is full of enthusiasm. You ride into the busy town and you're a few minutes early. You survey the area, hoping to see Johnny Ringo. To your disappointment, he's not at the restaurant. You shake off your doubts and take Daisy to the livery.

"Mornin', ma'am!" Amos declares happily.

"Good morning, Amos." You give him a quarter tip.

"Thanks, ma'am! Come on, Daisy!"

You let out a sigh while hurrying to the hotel restaurant. When you enter, Steele walks over

"It's going to be real nice having you work here with us. Head into the kitchen, Fatty will show you the ropes. I reckon you'll learn quick."

Steele's prediction came true; you picked up everything quickly and after a few days, you were taking orders and ensuring patrons got their meals quickly. You and Fatty sometimes joke a bit and you appreciate the camaraderie.

At the end of the week during the lunch rush, Johnny Ringo, Curly Bill and a few other cowboys enter the restaurant. Their presence commands the attention of everyone in the area and Curly Bill soaks up the flattery he feels from the fear he evokes in people.

Your heart races with excitement and you head into the kitchen to catch your breath. You reach into your pocket and pull out a small tube of lipstick. You put a bit of color on your lips, fluff your hair and head to where the Cowboys are sitting.

Curly Bill asserts his dominance and authority, hoping you too show signs of fear, especially in the presence of his cowboys.

"Well, ain't you a sight," he drawls.

Your eyes show gratitude and you feel overwhelmed by your nervousness. Curly Bill smiles almost deviously. He nods, expecting your obedience.

"What can I bring you gentleman?" You ask, your voice shaking a bit. You try your best to maintain control, but the sight of Johnny Ringo along with the Cowboys fills you with a gear you weren't quite prepared for. You can see now why so many folks are truly intimidated by these men.

"Most folks don't have the guts to talk to us. Usually Fatty takes our orders," Curly Bill declares.

You feel your heart sink at Curly Bill's comment.

"I'm here to help Fatty," you answer, showing a smile.

Curly Bill folds his arms and sits back, enjoying the exchange. "That so?" He asks rhetorically.

You nod.

"Bill," Ringo begins.

"It's alright, son," Curly drawls. "Just making sure she knows who's in charge around here." Curly still sits with his arms folded. He can understand why Johnny is so smitten with you.

You look around the restaurant and notice other patrons waiting for your service.

"Why don't you look at the menu and I'll come back," you answer, your voice shaking.

Curly Bill nods. "But don't think we're friends." He growls.

"Bill," Johnny begins. "Let her be," Johnny says. Johnny understands Curly's need to dominate people and the need to maintain his reputation as a feared outlaw. Any sign of weakness could bring trouble to men like the Cowboys.

"Look at her smiling like she ain't got no care in the world," Curly continues. "Folks ain't nice lessen they want somethin'," Curly reminds Johnny.

Curly Bill already sucked back several whiskey shots before they came to the restaurant and the effects of the rot gut caused him to grow impatient and sometimes down right mean. Ringo hopes Curly Bill doesn't cause a scene and he also hopes you don't get your feelings hurt as that is a reflection on him.

Ringo feels torn; he understands the position he and the gang are facing by letting their guard down too quickly. He also cannot stand to see you afraid of him.

You return with a smile and a tray of coffee cups. You head to the kitchen and return with a pot of coffee and begin pouring coffee for the Cowboys.

"Thank you," Johnny says softly.

"Much obliged," Ike Clanton grunts.

The other Cowboys murmur their mild gratitude, still skeptical of your kind demeanor.

"You're very welcome," you say smiling.

Curly Bill leans forward. "You think you're better than us? Just going about like you ain't scared of anything?" He grumbles.

"I'm just here to serve you. Give you the best service I can." You continue smiling, hoping it will soften the rough exterior of this wild and dangerous group of gunfighters. But their skepticism of kindness towards them bubbles under the surface.

"As long as you know who's in charge around here and it ain't the law," Curly growls.

You nod your head and manage a smile, still trying to hide your fear.

"You got guts. I'll give you that," Curly Bill observes. "Most folks would have run for the door by now."

"Well then you would lose the opportunity for me to serve you," you respond doing the best you can to keep your emotions from flowing.

Curly Bill grins mischievously, hoping his reputation and larger than life personality is working on you.

Curly Bill sits back and looks you up and down.

"I reckon so. But we ain't friends," Curly declares.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, gentleman?" You ask, smiling as best as you can.

"You're nothing but a pretty face!" Curly Bill drawls. "You think you can stand here and not be afraid? Do you have any idea who we are?"

You nod your head. You suck back your tears. You also understand that Johnny doesn't want to start a situation he wouldn't be able to undo.

"Good," Curly says. "See? You ain't as fearless as you think you are!" Curly Bill slurs.

Your heart sinks.

"Come on, Bill," Ringo interjects.

"Alright," Curly Bill responds. He looks at you. "But this ain't over." He gulps his coffee and wipes his mouth with his large hand.

You return to the kitchen and burst into tears. Fatty comes over and puts a hand on your shoulder.

"I guess I shoulda warned you about those Cowboys," Fatty says with regret in his voice. "A pretty lady like you don't deserve that."

You resolve to regain your composure and your strength. You suck back your tears and run your hands through your hair. You nod. And the realization of the dangers of living in a boom town becomes clear. Far from the farm you grew up on you find yourself almost regretting coming here. But you see Johnny's face and you decide to keep going. In your defeat, you find the courage to face Curly Bill and the Cowboys.

You take a deep breath. Fatty gives you a reassuring hug and a pot of coffee. "Go refill their coffee, sweet lady." Fatty winks at you and mops his head with his apron.

You return to the dining area to refill their coffee.

"Your meals should be right out," you say softly.

Curly Bill, feeling pleased he's intimidated you, sits with his arms folded. He nods. "Good. You just walk around here without a care, is that it?"

"Mr. Brocius, is there anything I can get for you?" You ask. You look at Johnny, whose eyes glisten with concern.

"Thank you for your service to us," Johnny says.

Your heart skips a beat and you smile at Johnny.

"Well, ain't that real nice," Curly Bill responds with a hint of envy in his voice.

"You're welcome," you respond and with trembling hands, you pour their coffee.

"Not as tough as you think you are," Curly Bill grunts.

"Mr. Brocius, I'm not here to upset you." You say, a hint of fear in your voice.

"Then why are you here?" Curly Bill leans forward. "Just flash that pretty smile and serve people?"

"I'm just here to do my job."

"As long as you understand I'm the one in charge around here and iffin' you don't understand that real quick, you'll be walking a fine line."

Johnny looks at you and then back at Curly Bill. He doesn't want the scene to escalate with you getting hurt and he knows he needs to maintain his loyalty to Curly Bill and the Cowboys.

"You've been real nice and we appreciate it." He tells you. He puts his head down and then sips his coffee. You return to the kitchen and are able to carry four dishes at once. You walk over to their table, ensuring you serve Curly Bill first.

"Well, look at that," Ike Clanton mutters. "Carrying all them plates."

Curly Bill and the Cowboys begin eating and you return with two more plates for Stillwell and Barnes.

"Is there anything else I can bring you," you ask.

"Keep that coffee coming," Curly Bill answers, without looking at her.

"Of course, Mr. Brocius," you respond. You head back to the kitchen, tears welling in your eyes. The weight of the feeling of defeat lays upon you like a dark cloud. Fatty comes over with a cup of tea for you. "I'm really sorry, YN. Them boys...Well Curly Bill Brocius... he's a feared man. He don't trust easy.

You nod.

"There's somethin' else," Fatty continues. "Curly Bill has earned the respect of his men and he's earned the respect of everyone who's crossed him." Fatty wipes his head with his apron.

"But..they got heart." Fatty wipes his head again. He rubs his tired eyes.

"Curly Bill has a soft spot. Trust me. I know. You may already know how important reputation is around here."

"I saw nothing soft about him," you say. "He looks like someone I would never want to upset or..." You lower your eyes.

"I reckon you didn't..." Fatty replies. "Curly Bill went through some bad stuff after the war." Fatty places his hands on his hips.

"Almost got eaten alive by insects at a makeshift prison at a Texas Rangers camp. 'Those sons a bitches tied Curly Bill to a stake and left him there half the night! Old Curly had insect bites on him from head to toe." Fatty shakes his head. "You can understand why he's so cautious. And that ain't all. He and Dutch Martin were arrested in '79 by Texas Rangers. In the dead of winter, he and Dutch were tied up with their arms behind their backs so they couldn't warm themselves. Ringo was apprehended by a Union group and they tied him to a fence post and whipped him until he almost passed out." Fatty shakes his head. "Those Yankees took everything. They just kept coming, marching all over the South."

You nod your head slowly. You lost family during the war and your family is scattered. You never endured the torture Curly Bill and Ringo did. The Union was especially cruel to Confederate outlaws.

You gather yourself, run your hands through your hair and take a deep breath. "I'm not giving up," you tell Fatty. "I left everything behind to come here. I'm getting a taste of the west."

Fatty grins. He puts a supportive hand on your shoulder. "I reckon you are. Just keep up the good work. Curly Bill will soften a bit. He ain't all bad. You're a lovely lady and well, that's..."Fatty pauses. "Gives folks a reason to wonder. But I reckon you working here will help. You'll be able to meet folks around here."

You nod. You take the coffee pot and return to the dining room.

With a trembling hand, you pour coffee into the cups of the Cowboys.

"Much obliged, ma'am," Ike Clanton tells you.

You show an appreciative smile. "Of course."

Ringo hates seeing you in such a state of fear and knowing one of his own caused it, rips at his heart. "Thank you, YN. We all appreciate your fine service."

"Thank you, Mr. Ringo, you say, your voice low and your eyes to the ground.

"Johnny," he tells you.

Curly Bill smirks. "Well ain't that a fine how do you do?"

You return to the kitchen and come back with fresh, hot biscuits. Curly Bill eats without acknowledging anyone. Then he looks at you.

"Alright," he grunts, shoving food in his mouth. Johnny eats slowly in a more refined manner. Although his mother came from a farming background, she carried herself in such a way, she appeared sophisticated and elegant. She always enjoyed her meals slowly. And in some ways, you remind Johnny of his mother; underneath her delicate appearance, lived a woman of formidable strength and courage with beauty time couldn't alter.

You bring the Cowboys their tab; it comes out to $2.50. Curly Bill hands you a ten dollar bill and tells you to keep the change. A stark contrast from his behavior earlier. You wonder if perhaps Fatty was right and that a softer side of the big rustler would reveal itself. When your shift ends, you enjoy some soup before you go to the livery to retrieve Daisy. Your heart still aches from the harshness you endured under Curly Bill Brocius, but you know you cannot quit and allow him to push you out of town.

When you arrive at the livery, you see Johnny Ringo talking to Amos.

Johnny sees you and feels his face grow red. Your hair flows freely and your beautiful eyes seem to sparkle even through the dying sun. Johnny straightens up and tips his hat.

"Take care of her first, Amos," Johnny orders. "I'll get my horse after."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ringo!" Amos obliges. He heads in to retrieve Daisy. Seeing her brings you unexpected comfort and relief.

"Hey, girl," you whisper, kissing her on the nose. You hold back your tears that want to burst through your tired eyes. Seeing Daisy makes you feel like you're seeing an old friend who can offer some relaxation and relief from your stressful first day working at the hotel restaurant.

"Mighty nice horse," Johnny comments. "She really seems to like you, YN." He smiles a genuine smile at you.

"She's my only friend so far," you reply, regretting your comment. "I mean, I haven't had a chance to really make any friends yet."

"You've been busy since you arrived," Johnny comments. "First working at the ice cream parlor, buying a border and buggy and then putting up with the Cowboys during lunch today." He looks down at the ground and shuffles his feet as he does when he's feeling nervous.

"Yeah, I reckon so," you tell him. You let out a sigh and run your hand through your hair. Johnny fights his internal urges. The throbbing manliness of his body weakens his knees. He knows his face must be red and he's grateful for a shadow that stretches across his form, hopefully hiding his flushed demeanor.

Johnny clears his throat. "It's real dangerous here, YN. Keep your head about you. This town ain't fit for a woman like you. Big Nellie is one thing; she can handle herself well. But you... You're... Different," he finally manages to say.

"After the war, my family just scattered throughout the country, trying to repair their lives. Our farm is...Gone."

Johnny nods sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that," he offers a half smile.

"I guess I wanted a fresh start and I couldn't stay in Kansas. Everything reminded me of..." You pause.

"Yankee oppression?" Johnny finishes.

You nod. "Yeah. I would walk through town and see most of the buildings leveled. I wasn't going to stay there and try to rebuild. I needed to get away from all of it."

"And you chose the town too tough to die," Ringo says, forcing a smile. Johnny squints from the sunlight. "Trust me, Dodge is worse."

"That's what I've heard. I was never near Dodge City," you reply. "I'm hoping to find my way here." You tell him.

"I'm sure you will," Ringo responds. He looks around to ensure nobody is watching him interact with you.

"Well, I should get home. I'm doing breakfast and lunch tomorrow. I really need to get some rest."

"I thought you were staying at the hotel?" Johnny inquires.

"I was. I am renting a small cottage just about a half a mile from here."

Johnny raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

You stand a little taller, feeling confident that you're independent.

"Yes. I didn't want to stay in town. Where do you stay, Johnny?"

Johnny Ringo felt a lump in his throat. He doesn't want to tell you that he sleeps in a tent at the Cowboy camp and he's too ashamed to admit he can't usually afford to stay in town. He feels flushed again and anxious to be elsewhere before someone sees the two of you together and makes trouble for you.

"We got a shack about a mile from here. It's not so bad." He feels himself growing embarrassed. You don't push the issue since you understand how secretive Johnny Ringo can be.

"I should get home," you say to Johnny. "I just need to hitch Daisy."

"Let me help you with that," Johnny offers.

"Oh, Johnny! You don't have to!"

"It's alright. I've hitched plenty of horses." You walk together and Johnny hitches Daisy and then helps you into the carriage. He hands you the reigns.

"You take care of yourself, YN," Johnny tells you.

"Thank you, Johnny," you smile, feeling a little lighter and less stressed. "You're welcome. Get home safe."

You watch Johnny with his signature hair back to the livery. Your heart skips a beat while you relive the moment in your mind and your heart.

When you return to your modest house, you unhitch Daisy, ensuring she has water and grains. You brush Daisy and talk to her.

"This was a tough first day...I really like Johnny Ringo. I think he likes me too. I just don't know. Curly Bill treated me so badly and I am so afraid of that man! But then he gave me a very generous tip. I don't know, Daisy!" You start to cry a little.

Daisy brings you home and you unhitch the carriage, ensure Daisy has grain and water and head back to your modest home.

After a modest supper of meat and vegetables, you clean up a little, make yourself some tea and get ready for bed.

Johnny Ringo heads back to camp with a smile on his face. He relives the moment he shared with you. Seeing your beautiful eyes gazing up at him with concern and your clear devotion to him. He feels guilty over the scene with Curly Bill. He lets out a sigh and continues riding slowly. If he tries to intervene, Curly Bill with his unpredictable nature and dangerous tendencies could have caused further harm to you. The last thing Johnny Ringo wants is for you to leave.

He dismounts and tells Ike to picket his horse. Ike begrudgingly obliges. Johnny takes his saddle and rests it near his tent. He can smell the familiar aroma of beans, bacon and biscuits.

Ringo enjoys his food slowly, sipping coffee in between bites. He notices the sun falling behind the mountains and he laughs to himself that he rarely allows himself to delight in nature's wonders. He can still feel your presence and the aroma of your perfume still lingers in his nostrils. He takes a bite of biscuit and notices his mood starts moving in an upward direction. Normally, be would finish eating, grab a bottle of rotgut and retreat to his tent to either write his sorrows in his journal or escape them through old Willy Shakespeare. But on this early evening, he feels a renewed sense of peace. He looks over at Curly Bill, still a little annoyed for the way the big rustler treated you. Curly Bill could demonstrate charm and charisma at times and other times he feels an overwhelming need to assert his authority and throw his weight around. In Curly's mind, places like Tombstone don't suffer fools and if a person can't handle the harshness of such territory, they should head east where life is more predictable and safe.

Curly Bill viewed women in a way that usually included indifference; a means to an end. Women cured a man's loneliness and longing for human connection. In the end, Curly Bill possessed more of an unromantic view. Johnny figured it stemmed from Curly's past, present and his fierce reputation. Curly often pointed out that women cause a man weakness and if she's a beauty, the memory of her could make a man daydream and he could lose his cool, his mind...And his life.

And much truth came from Curly Bill's perception. Their line of work came with dangers such as rival gangs, Apaches or vengeful Commanches, grizzlies and other wild animals, rattlers and trigger happy bounty hunters. So, in a sense Johnny could appreciate Curly's perspective on women. He also feels Curly Bill can take it too far, especially if he perceives someone in a light that shows they lack fear of him or don't seem intimidated. He also possesses a side capable of strong feelings and Curly's loyalty was unshakable. Johnny knows eventually Curly Bill will give you a chance to show your own loyalty.

Johnny finishes his meal and lights up a new cigar, blowing the smoke in billows of tiny clouds that swirl through the stiff air. He can't help but feel a renewed sense of happiness. For the first time in a very long time, Johnny Ringo allowed himself to feel the warmth of happiness and he embraces this vulnerability with slow and steady steps.

"Juanito!" Curly Bill bellows, awakening Johnny from his peaceful moment.

"Curly," Johnny responds.

Curly Bill sits next to Johnny, holding a coffee cup full of whiskey. Curly sips it and grimaces. "Not sure where Pony found this rot gut."

Johnny looks forward, almost ignoring Curly's presence which poses a serious challenge; Curly Bill wasn't easy to ignore.

"Well, I reckon I took it a little too far with that lovely lady."

Ringo flashes a look at the big rustler sitting next to him, a look of disbelief.

"You always want people afraid of you. And most people are, Bill." Johnny speaks softly, enjoying his cigar.

"Too much damn tornado juice," Curly answers, trying to find an excuse for his obnoxious behavior. "Hits my head hard." Curly Bill let's out a sigh. He feels disgusted with himself when he's had so much and can't leave the damn fire water alone.

"Well, maybe you owe her the apology," Ringo suggests.

Curly Bill frowns. "Well, I guess."

"You ain't afraid, are you?"

"Me? Afraid of some pretty little thing like that?" Curly guffaws. Internally, he struggles with the idea of offering a genuine apology which would create a rare moment of vulnerability the big cowboy isn't used to.

"That'd be real fine, but not in front of any of you boys," Curly grunts. Ringo chuckles seeing a softer almost fearful side of Curly Bill Brocius.

The morning sun bathes your room with its welcoming of a new day. You push the covers off and let your bare feet hit the wood floor. You stretch and yawn while moving to your basin so you can wash up. You hear Daisy neighing a little. After a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs and a biscuit, you dress yourself in a modest beige skirt with a pink and white blouse. After brushing your hair, you head out to hitch Daisy.

"Good morning, girl!" You announce. You kiss her nose and she puts her head on your shoulder. "Today's gonna be better!" Once hitched, you ride into town and put your buckboard behind the hotel and walk Daisy to the livery.

Amos is sitting on the ground with his legs out and crossed at the ankles. He stands up and adjusts his hat.

"Mornin', ma'am," he says with enthusiasm. "I'll take real good care of her!"

"I know, Amos," you answer. Amos has been one of the few people in town who makes you smile.

When you enter the restaurant, Curly Bill is talking to Fatty while the Cowboys are outside, talking and puffing their cigars.

You pause in mid step at the site of the rustler. You lower your head.

"Good morning, Mr. Brocius," is all you manage to say.

Curly Bill pats Fatty on the back and moves towards you, your heart racing. You look around for Johnny, but you don't see him. You can hear the Cowboys laughing and talking outside. The restaurant isn't open for breakfast yet and you're wondering what Curly Bill wants from you. You fear he'll advise you to stay away from Johnny and then start mocking your fear.

He takes his hat off and looks around.

"Good morning," Curly responds, his voice low.

"Can I start an order for you?" You ask, your voice shaking a bit.

Curly Bill can't help but feel a pang of guilt for making you fear him so much, especially since you have shown kindness to him and his Cowboys.

"No, that's alright. I just wanted to say I owe you an apology for the way I acted the other day. I guess I ain't used to someone being so nice, especially someone as pretty as you." Curly Bill can feel his chest tighten at his vulnerability; he's not used to letting his guard down.

He's pleased when you smile and then look at the floor.

"I appreciate that, Mr. Brocius," you answer, the trembling in your voice diminishing.

"Call me Curly Bill! I think you earned that right, puttin' up with me and all."

You manage a smile and Curly Bill feels a sense of envy towards Ringo and perhaps that motivated his harshness towards you. You want Johnny Ringo and Curly, along with the other Cowboys can't help but feel a sense of jealousy. That Ringo can charm you, but they cannot.

"I...." You begin.

"You don't owe me nothin'," Curly Bill tells you.

You nod to show you understand. He puts his hat on and brushes a hair behind your ear. Your first instinct is to move away, but his presence commands respect and authority in a way unfamiliar to you.

"Johnny sure is lucky," Curly says.

"Johnny?" You ask, your face turning red. You didn't realize your affection for Ringo showed in your face.

"It's alright. I know Johnny likes you and well, you like him too, flaws and all. We should all be so lucky, huh?" Curly drawls.

You smile and Curly Bill winks at you before stepping out, the sound of his jingling spurs echoing on the wood floor.

Your heart feels lighter, but you still experience a sense of uncertainty. You watch Curly Bill meet up with his cowboys and they head down the street. You glance around, but don't see Johnny and your heart sinks.

Johnny Ringo sleeps soundly in his tent, letting the warm sun and soft breeze bathe him like a peaceful embrace. He opens his eyes and looks around. He can hear some cowboys talking or laughing while others do odd jobs such as gathering fire wood for their campfire, checking the shoes of their horses or boiling water to do some laundry. He exits his tent and stretches, feeling aches from sleeping on the hard ground all night. He moves slowly to the chuck wagon and sees Pony greasing one of the wheels.

"Mornin', Ringo!" Pony declares. "My hands ain't right for making no chuck right now, but there's some biscuits left. Got some jerky too."

Johnny pours himself a cup of coffee and grimaces. "It's damn cold, Pony," Ringo complains.

"Yeah, sorry," Pony answers, spitting on the ground. "Forgot. There's a little fire left there. You can heat it."

Johnny places his cold coffee near the dying fire. He uses a small washcloth to hold the handle that grew hot from sitting near the fire. He sips it and then grabs a couple of biscuits.

"Where's Curly?" Johnny asks, without looking at Pony.

"Said he had to take care of something in town." Pony answers, shaking some grease off his hand.

""Damn, ain't got no washin' water!" Pony growls. "Hey, Claireborne!" Pony shouts. Billy Claireborne looks up. "Fetch some washin' water!"

Claireborne puts his coffee cup down, grabs the bucket for washing water and heads to the river that flows near the camp.

"Hurry up boy!" Pony grunts. Claireborne looks back and then shakes his head.

When Claireborne returns, he places the bucket of water near Pony.

"About time!" Pony frowns.

"Shoulda fetched the water before you started greasin' that damn wheel!" Claireborne answers.

"You wanna eat, adjust your attitude, son!" Pony shouts.

"You overheat the coffee and the biscuits are like rocks sometimes!" Billy Claireborne fires back.

"I reckon you'd be a better cook?" Pony challenges Claireborne.

"Calm down, Pony," Ringo commands, sipping his coffee and chewing on a biscuit. "Sometimes your biscuits could break a man's teeth, Pony." Johnny dips the stale biscuit in his coffee to soften it. He laughs to himself while he enjoys the improvisation of dunking a stale biscuit into warm coffee. It seems something you would do.

"Curly's in town, you say?" Ringo inquires, squinting from the morning sun.

"Yep," Pony says, washing the grease off his hands. To Ringo's disgust, Pony takes the greasy water and throws some on his face. Ringo shakes his head at the level of how uncivilized his comrades are.

"Well, I'll be damned," Ringo whispers.

"What's that?" Pony asks.

"Nothing. I'm going into town to get some breakfast," Ringo smiles, thinking about enjoying a meal at the hotel restaurant.

Ringo saddles his horse and spurs him into town. He rode fast, enjoying the wind against his face and the feeling of a strong horse between his legs. This carefree and often lawless life became the only existence he knew. An untamed way of living without the restrictions of law and order. And his brotherhood with his cowboys gave him a sense of belonging, a part of something that wouldn't condemn or admonish him in the way society and even his family did.

Johnny slows his gelding and walks to the livery. He sees Daisy and relief floods through him; it was the proof you're waiting tables at the restaurant.

"Well, howdy, Mr. Ringo!" Amos announces, holstering his shiny pistol.

"Good morning, kid," Ringo answers, a hint of excitement in his voice. Excited to see you.

Amos takes the saddle off the horse and watches Ringo cross the street with his signature gait.

Ringo looks around and sees a few of his red sash companions scattered throughout town. Some of them were lounging near one of the hotels while others chatted with prostitutes, some lighting up cigars. He doesn't see Curly Bill, but can hear his loud guffawing coming from one of the saloons. Johnny decides to let his companions be while he gets some breakfast and a moment or two with you.

Johnny Ringo walks into the restaurant and waits to be seated. Fatty, who is making bacon and biscuits and frying eggs winks at you.

"There's fresh coffee!" Fatty announces. "You take some coffee to Johnny." Fatty returns to cooking and calling out orders. Big Nellie helps out when she can, taking orders and serving up plates. She considered leftovers a reasonable tip most of the time, but also grabbed change with her fat, greedy fingers.

"Good morning, Johnny," you say kindly, pouring coffee into his cup.

"Good morning to you," Johnny responds with a playful tone in his voice.

"It's wonderful to see you," you answer, suddenly feeling foolish. Johnny notices your apprehension and puts his hand on your arm. "I feel the same way about you," Johnny tells you.

"Johnny..." You whisper softly.

"What time do you get through working?" Johnny asks, his eyes meeting yours.

"I'm off after lunch," you tell Johnny, your voice is low.

Johnny takes your hand much to your surprise. "Take a ride with me later," he entreats.

"Really?" You ask, your beautiful eyes full of wonder.

Johnny smiles.

"Take Daisy home. I'll meet you there so no one sees us leaving together."

You nod to show you understand his need for discretion. He tips his hat and walks across the street to find Curly Bill.

You rush to the restaurant, your heart pounding with anticipation and delight. You serve the hotel guests and other patrons with a renewed spring in your step. Finally, you will gain the opportunity to spend time with Johnny Ringo.

Fatty looks over at you and wonders what caused your sudden shift in demeanor. You always exchange pleasantries and smile often, but today that smile seems like a door to a secret world. In a town like Tombstone, people didn't smile unless they greeted another resident and even then, people usually nodded, tipped their hats or said, "how do you do?" But your smile was contagious today and Fatty couldn't help but wonder.

Big Nellie clears plates, sopping up gravy with leftover biscuits, in such an indignant manner, you feel tempted to learn of her upbringing. She hardly spoke and often took breaks. She and Fatty talked in the kitchen, sometimes laughing, but you could never make out the conversation. Tombstone was a lonely place and people looked for relief from it any way they could.

Nothing happening in town can bring you down today. You move quickly and happily through the restaurant, taking orders, clearing tables and even helping out in the kitchen washing dishes.

You take a break while waiting for Emmett to open again for lunch. The day moves slower than you'd like; your mind goes to Johnny Ringo whose company you will get to enjoy later. The clock seems still and barely moving.

When the oil cloth table cloths are wiped down and Fatty is preparing meals for lunch, your heart swells with so much anticipation, you can hardly contain your smile.

Several people enter the restaurant when Emmett reopens for lunch. You quickly move to the door, seating the guests and offering menus.

The menu features beef stew with biscuits, fried chicken served with mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits and green beans, rice and beans were usually on the menu everyday and there's also fresh fish served with vegetables. Quite often, oysters are featured on the menu also.

While you kept yourself busy serving lunch, Johnny went to a bath house. He paid for his hot water, towel and soap while thinking of you and how he loves having a reason to indulge in a hot bath. Ringo smiles while he scrubs his feet and toes, wanting to present himself in a way he feels you deserve. Johnny soaps up his arms and chest, throwing the small bar of soap in the air and catching it like he's a young boy again. The young boy girls at church would gawk at; Johnny Ringo, the mysterious boy who seemed under a spell of darkness that wouldn't relent. A man who struggled with his faith, guilt and shame that seemed to wrestle constantly with neither side winning; just a constant struggle. He lets out a sigh before rising out of the wooden tub, taking a hold of a towel. After he washes up, he puts on clean clothes and heads to the barber for a shave.

You continue glancing at the clock that sits in the corner. Time still moves slow, but steady. When your shift ends, you, like Johnny, take a bath in town, put on a new dress; a pink and black simple skirt with a matching blouse. You put some color on your lips, your heart racing and head to the livery. Amos tips his hat.

"Well, howdy, ma'am! You sure look nice today."

"Afternoon, Amos." You smile, handing him fifty cents for a tip.

Amos retrieves Daisy for you.

"Real fine horse," Amos says, leading Daisy over to you.

"She really is!" You answer, bringing Daisy to your small carriage.

"See you tomorrow, Amos," you tell him before heading to your cottage to wait for Johnny Ringo.

You race towards your cottage, the wind blowing through your hair. Daisy whinnies and gallops gracefully. The moment you reach your home, you get busy ensuring Daisy is unhitched and has grain to eat. You wipe her down with a brush, kiss her on the nose and rush into your house to get yourself ready. You choose a royal blue blouse with a light brown skirt. After applying some color to your lips and brushing your lovely locks, you gaze out the window to check if you see Johnny riding over.

You hear the distant sound of a horse galloping and when you look out your window, you see Johnny Ringo riding at full gallup towards your cottage.

You hold your heart while you lean against the wall, letting a deep breath out. You do your best to remain calm, despite your excitement. You take a few deep breaths while listening to the horse approaching. The footsteps of the heavy hooves begin to slow as Johnny approaches you.

You check yourself in the mirror near the water basin and smile to yourself.

Your heart skips a beat when his knuckles knock on your door.

You open the door to find Johnny Ringo, the deadliest pistoleer since William Bonney and Charlie Quantrill."

Johnny takes his hat off the moment he sees you. He looks down and then back at you. An overwhelming sensation of passion and shame start to wash over him. Your soft hair, the way the sun hits your eyes and creates a heavenly glow...

Johnny feels his neck grow hot and flushed at the sight of you. He slowly exhales, allowing himself to gain control over himself.

"Johnny!" You exclaim.

Ringo looks to the ground,still holding his hat. Your excitement upon seeing him fills him with a sense of warmth and comfort with a hint of excitement.

"Well, howdy, YN," Johnny finally says.

Your heart pumps so lively inside you that you fear Johnny may hear it. You open the door further to allow Johnny into your house.

"Thank you," he says. He looks out the window, sighs and then looks back at you. He feels foolish for not bringing something for you, even if just a bouquet of flowers. He came empty handed and he suddenly feels flushed and embarrassed.

"What's wrong, Johnny?" You ask with sincere concern.

Johnny Ringo shakes his head and smiles. One of the elements about you that he loves involves your sweetness, gratitude and how easy you are to please.

Johnny looks at the floor. In his rush to see you, he forgot to bring something for you to show his growing affection.

"It's just that uh...well," he rocks back and forth on his feet.

You move close and hug him tight. His bodily functions betray him and he experiences a throbbing he can't control and hopes to God you don't notice his sudden loss of self control. He takes a deep breath and sighs, absorbing the wonderful sensation holding you brings him.

Your body aligns with his and for a moment, no violence or war or oppression can separate your dedication to each other.

"I should have brought you something... Flowers...I guess I couldn't wait to get here," Johnny answers.

"Then it would have taken you longer to get here!" You answer with enthusiasm.

Johnny pauses and then smiles a warm and genuine smile. Your words wash over him like a sweet rain storm.

"You sure got a way with words, YN," he tells you. "Makes a fella feel appreciated.

You chuckle softly, the realization of Johnny Ringo in your home causes your heart to burst.

"Well, how about a ride?" He suggests.

"Perfect!" You answer. " Then you can take your time picking me some lovely wildflowers!" You grin mischievously.

Johnny, without thinking, cups your face. He moves to kiss you, hoping he's not being too forward. He pauses and simply looks into your eyes.

"Only the prettiest flowers for the prettiest lady!" He answers, guiding you by your hand.

Johnny mounts his horse and then pulls you up so you sit comfortably behind him. You lay your head against his back and you seem to fit perfectly. He loves the softness of your form against him.

The light trot turns to a gallop and the feel of the wind against your face, blowing your unbound hair wildly around your head.

The warm breeze and aroma of wildflowers that are framed by Palo Verde trees paints a landscape so oddly different from the bustling town.

Johnny Ringo turns to check on you. "You're awful quiet back there, YN. You doing alright?"

You squeeze Johnny tight, kissing his ear which causes him to flinch and then chuckle softly.

"I take that as a yes," he smiles, finding your vulnerability irresistible.

"Oh yeah, cowboy!" You answer. "Let's keep going!"

"Yes, ma'am," Johnny replies, spurring his horse who breaks into a run. The air feels sweet and the wind blows past the both of you and dkr that moment, you and Johnny feel more than just a connection; an interloping journey of love seeking and a release of all the pain that stirs in the hearts of those brave enough to pull through the war. Ringo's heart swells with pride and fascination at the wonder he's sharing with you. No admonishes or harsh words flow from you. Only the admiration and wild attraction the two of you share.

Johnny slows the horse to a slow gallup and then the horse fades into slow gait until Johnny pulls the reigns in.

"Well, my lady, here we are."

You look around and see a small body of water; beads sparkle and dance on the surface while the leaves on the trees shake to the ground. The warm sun feels like a friendly hug rather than the impending heat that's usually felt in the hotter months.

Johnny gets down and instinctively helps you off. You stumble a bit, holding onto him for balance. He holds you close, giving you reassurance.

"You alright, there?" He asks.

You look up at him, his eyes wide with amazement and a touch of apprehension and shyness. Johnny never encountered these feelings when laying with the calico queens, but something about your smile awakens something in him he cannot reconcile. The stark contrast of his rough and dangerous life to holding a beautiful woman who's shown incredible perseverance and loyalty just to get close to him. He feels a mix of excitement and a sense that he doesn't deserve you.

Your eyes stay fixed on his and he can feel his throbbing masculinity grow more intense. He wants to back away from you in shame that he couldn't control himself. But when your blouse falls off your shoulder and reveals a hint of skin, Johnny's demeanor grows weak and he almost stumbles. Before you can say anything, he cups your face and kisses you so gently, it even surprises him.

Your lips feel soft, the way he imagined they would. He can taste hints of strawberry and mint on your lucios lips.

When he pulls away, you see the vulnerability in his eyes; the vulnerability he tries so desperately to conceal behind his dark and brooding demeanor. But today, he feels that dark cloak fall from his strained mind. He takes your hands and kisses them passionately.

Johnny Ringo looks down at you and he feels your body trembling. He kisses your head. He then moves and gets a blanket from his saddle bag.

Johnny puts the blanket down and then pulls you close. He lays down near you, your body still shaking from receiving a kiss from Tombstone's deadliest man.

While you lay on your back, he slowly, but carefully begins to undue the buttons on your blouse. To your own surprise, you allow him to continue, knowing how primal a man like Ringo can be. While he caresses your breast, he kisses you again, sending spasms through your body. You gasp in delight and he smiles. The weakness enveloping your body prohibits you from moving. Johnny whispers in your ear, "you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He continues caressing your breast, moving his hands in a surprisingly delicate motion.

"Johnny," you whisper. You try to sit up so you can kiss him, but a spell of pure love embraces you will not allow you to surrender to your desire.

"Shh," he whispers, kissing your trembling lips. He wonders if fear stirs within your heart; fear that his dangerous and unpredictable personality will surface and perhaps take you against your will. That he may dominate you in the heat of ecstasy and hold you down while he explores your body.

He takes your hand and kisses it reassuringly.

"I'll stop..." He whispers, feeling his body throbbing.

Johnny Ringo composes himself, taking a deep breath. "I just want to feel close to you," you tell him, your heart suddenly swelling at your own weakness and fear. Johnny could easily become lost in a woman like you; lose his grip on himself and without focusing on the consequences of his haste to have you.

Johnny sits up and sighs. He slowly and sweetly buttons your blouse, his hands shaking from the intense interaction he just shared with you.

You regain your composure and touch his back. He takes your hand and holds it, turning his face away from you in shame and guilt.

"Johnny," you say, your voice barely a whisper.

Ringo takes his jacket and wraps it around you in a loving way, like he's shielding you from the world. You touch his face and notice the tears in his eyes. His inner conflict speaks so loudly, you shiver.

"You deserve better than this," Johnny says, his voice almost breaking with emotion. "Better than a roll on an old blanket with some dumb cowboy who could never be good enough for you!"

You finally sit all the way up and can feel your heart sink in defeat. But you also understand the complexities of a man like Ringo. He can't bring himself to treat you in any other way, but in the way he feels you deserve.

Johnny composes himself and puts his arm around you while you lay your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, YN. Sorry for bringing you out here like you're some damn ramera!"

"Johnny, I was...Am overwhelmed. That's all." You reassure him.

"All the more reason to take better care of you. I won't ever let anyone think bad of you. They can think what they want about me! They already do." He tightens his grip on you, but in a soft way. " But you...To have yourself caught up in a...a.."

"Wonderful man?"

His eyes dart towards yours. "You say that because you don't know. You don't know me. Don't know who I rode with!"

"Johnny," you begin. "Please let me care for you."

"Why? So you can be disappointed like everyone else in my life?" He looks down and shakes his head. "I'm so damn stupid, I almost..."He looks at you, his bottom lip trembling, almost unnoticeably, but you understand he's a conflicted man.

"And to think I actually contemplated just touching you," he says softly.

"Johnny..." You whisper again.

Johnny stands and lifts you by your hand so you can stand. He folds up the blanket and puts it away. Then he lifts you up and carries you to his horse, feeling he needs to make it up to you...Show you he's more than some worthless gunfighter and outlaw. But a man you could be proud of.

He rides back to your place in silence. When you arrive at your cottage, he walks you to the front door. You almost ask if he wants to come in, but you can see the apprehension in his eyes.

Ringo takes his hat off and holds it in his hands.

The only thing you can say falls from your lips and fades into the late afternoon air, "Johnny..."

Johnny Ringo touches your face, caressing your chin with his large and calloused hand.

"Thank you, YN," he finally says.

You stand before him, tears welling up in your large, expressive eyes. Johnny feels a deeper sense of inner conflict over seeing what he's done to you.

"Johnny!" You finally manage to say. "Please can I see you again? Please?!" You try not to beg, but to reassure him you care about him. He's too much of a gentleman to dare answer right away.

He looks at the ground. He can't understand why you have such a hold on him.

Johnny takes a step forward. He moves your hair away from your face. "Well, I sure would like that," he says.

"Johnny! What's got you so upset?"

"I would never forgive myself if anything ever happened to you," he responds while he strokes your face with his large hand.

You nod to show you understand.

You watch the Shakespearen quoting gunfighter mount his horse. He tips his hat to you and rides off. You lower your head and cannot stop the tears flooding from them. You understand why Johnny didn't want to make love to you on a blanket outside, but why did he grow so cold towards you? How he wrapped his jacket around you...His silence on the ride home, his tears.

You open your door and slam it shut, causing the vase on the small table to fall over. You fall onto your bed, releasing the passion that resides in you. Tears stream down your face and you slowly fall asleep.

Ringo heads to town and goes to the Dead End where Annie works. He doesn't intend to pay for any services, but needs to vent to someone familiar, someone from home.

"Howdy, there, Johnny!" Annie exclaims, seeing the gunfighter move through the batwings. The jingle of his spurs echo on the wood floor. He slowly walks to the bar, looking like a wolf without a pack.

"You look like you were hit by a train, Johnny," Annie says, pouring whiskey for him.

Johnny down the shot and takes another.

"I know something of what you're feeling -" Annie begins.

"No. You don't." He answers without emotion in his voice. He takes his hat off and puts it next to the full bottle of whiskey.

"Well, no matter, Cowboy! You're here so let Annie take care of you." She leans in closer. "Twice...One on the house, remember?" She asks, recalling moments they shared together.

Ringo smiles. A roll with a whore feels more natural to him than to make love to the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He shakes his head at that realization. He knows he could never become aroused with Annie and maybe not any other woman. He desires you above all else and his passion for women seems to be dying through the birth of the relationship he has found with you.

"What's with you, Johnny?" Annie inquires, wiping the bar with a towel. She lifts his chin to look at him. He's tempted to slap her hand away, but the gentleman side of him wins over and he simply turns away.

"You wouldn't understand," Johnny drawls, taking another shot.

"In my business, I hear everything!" She brags.

"Yeah, business. That's all women like you understand." Johnny stares into his empty shot glass.

"That's why I'm here! Same as you, cowboy. Business. There's no other reason to be here." Annie tilts her head and studies Ringo. She tosses the towel aside and shakes her hands out.

"What?" She mocks his indifference to her. "You're looking for love? Is that it? You know how many times I heard men talking about how they'd give up everything for a loving wife! A beautiful woman who wants to save you from yourself and spend her life dedicated to you, right?" She rolls her eyes.

Ringo holds back from banging his fists on the bar. He knows her words ring true; it's a lonely life he led. A life that could never give you what he feels you deserve. He curses under his breath. He tosses money at Annie. She takes it and throws it back to him.

"Save it for a poke, Johnny! When you get lonely enough, you'll be back!"

Ringo takes the cash, the bottle and leaves the bar. Annie takes a shot glass and throws it on the floor, wiping sweat off of her head.

"Damn cowboys!" Annie grumbles under her breath. "They're the worst when it comes to love dreams!" She grabs a broom and begins sweeping up the glass. "That man!" Annie shakes her head.

A few patrons head to the bar, slapping cash on the bar.

Annie nods her head and puts her hands on her hips. "I like men who know what they want!" She declares and pours herself a shot.

You awaken with a start. You run your hands through your hair and toss the covers aside. While stumbling towards the basin near the sink. After splashing cool water on your face, you wipe it clean and toss the towel aside. You let out a sigh and put your boots on so you can check on Daisy. When Johnny dropped you off, you forgot about everything. Your heart still sinks with the heaviness of Ringo's latest joust with his guilt and shame; neither one falls to defeat.

Daisy whinnies when seeing you, clearly excited by your presence.

"Hey, girl," you whisper, tears falling from your eyes. "This is tougher than I ever thought!" With teary eyes, you take care of Daisy, ensuring she's clean and has fresh water and grains. You kiss her goodnight and return to sleep, exhausted from your day.

Johnny gets his horse from the livery without acknowledging Amos, who could sense tension from the older gunfighter. Amos knew not to probe Ringo for any information; when Ringo grows quiet, it's always best to leave him be. Johnny tips his hat to Amos who nods in return. Johnny rides back to camp, the image of your tear filled eyes, the only thing he can see.

Ringo rides into camp. He can hear Curly Bill guffawing and telling his stories, adding to them each time he tells them. Other Cowboys busy themselves by shooting empty whiskey bottles or other chores. Pony mixes flour and milk and prepares biscuits, along with bacon and beans. The familiar aroma of horse shit, intense body odor and bacon flood the camp while Johnny retreats into his safe place.

He slowly drinks the rotgut he purchased. He takes his journal and begins to write:

I can't get her face out of my mind. I wish to the Devil in Hell and to the God in Heaven that I never saw her! Johnny crumples the paper and tosses it. Then he recalls his time with Charlie Quantrill and the Youngers. While slaughtering Jayhawks in Liberty, one of Quantrill's men was shot in the face at close range and his teeth blew out the sides of his head. Another met his maker by shotgun so violently, his arm was blown off.

Ringo recalls the lack of emotions shown by Quantrill, who instead of shouting or cursing his enemies, he sat, sharpening his Bowie knife with a stone. He slowly and methodically worked on the instrument of death, not saying a word. Ringo himself recalls how he fell to his knees at the sight of the deaths and swore he would never take a human life...He almost laughs loudly at the irony of it all. The death He experienced and the torture he endured at the hands of those damn Jayhawks!He tosses his journal, feeling the weight of the world's troubles on him.

He dozes off for a few moments.

The following morning, you realize you get the day off and you rise out of bed with a renewed sense of determination. After enjoying tea and a biscuit, you wash up, put on a cream colored skirt with a royal blue blouse, brush your hair and add color to your lips. Pleased with how you look, you quickly head to the stable, where Daisy whinnies with delight.

"Today is the day, girl! I did not come here to just walk away!" You saddle Daisy instead of hitching her to the wagon. You mount up and ride like the wind. Daisy moves from a quick trot to a gallop until she's running at full speed. The wind blows through your unbound hair and the air seems warm and sweet.

You keep riding until you can see...

The Cowboys camp.

Your determined spirit pushes you to ride close enough to the camp that the Cowboys can see you. Some of the horses at the picket line rear up. Curly Bill springs to his feet. "What in the hell is this?!" He shouts. Curly Bill runs over to you.

"What do you think you're doing? Ain't no women belong here!"

You dismount and refuse to back down.

"Hold on a minute now!" Curly Bill bellows. "You can't just ride in here! This ain't no place for you, woman!"

Curly Bill Brocius stands, looking larger than life, his loud voice booming. "You can't just ride in here like that!" Curly says firmly.

"I need to see him, Curly Bill! I rode all the way out here!"

Curly Bill can see the determination in your eyes. He takes his hat off and does the best he can to maintain his composure as he certainly isn't going to admonish or curse her.

"Well, I ain't one to interfere like that. Hold on there. I'll get Johnny for ya. Stay here." Curly orders. He walks to Johnny Ringo's tent.

"Juanito," Curly groans. "Come out, boy! Reckon you got a visitor!"

Ringo rubs his eyes and looks at Curly Bill and believes he's dreaming. "What the hell, Curly!" Johnny grunts.

"Johnny. She's here."

Johnny sits up with a start. "She... When... What? I ain't in the mood, Bill!"

"Johnny! She's here! Came riding through here like it's her damn place! You know no woman belongs here, but she ain't leaving lessen she talks to you first!"

Johnny Ringo peeks out his tent and gets a clear view of you. His heart skips a beat and he runs his hands through his hair. He sits for a moment in an attempt to process the scene before him. Curly Bill chuckles and closes the tent flap. "I wouldn't keep a beauty like that waitin'!" He guffaws loudly, not thinking or caring if you hear it.

"He'll be right with you," Curly Bill tells you, trying to keep himself composed while he notices your unique appearance.

"Thank you," you answer, standing next to Daisy.

A few other cowboys take their hats off to get a better view, while others share glances and shrugs. Curly Bill sits back down and lights up a cigar and uncorks a bottle of fire water. He can't help but feel a bit envious; he can't imagine a beautiful woman wanting him so much, she's willing to risk her own safety and reputation just to be close to him.

"Women..." Curly Bill whispers to himself. "They bring a man to misery. And when they're beautiful like that..." Curly Bill shakes his head.

Johnny gets himself together and emerges from his tent, blocking the sun with his hand as he's holding his hat. He stumbles for a moment and staggers to his feet. He looks at you with shame and you return the look with one of love and encouragement.

"Johnny Ringo!" You shout much to the surprise and shock of the Cowboys watching. Some of them hoot and holler while others exchange glances and smile or nod.

Johnny exits his tent and sees you standing there, your hair flowing in the breeze. He walks closer to you, still processing the reality before him. He whispers your name and his eyes grow wide with wonder and awe.

"Why... How'd you... What are you..." He stammers over his words.

You stand, your arms crossed, your eyes full of determination and a resistance to any intimidation. "I'm not leaving until you tell me why you just left! No explanation! Nothing!"

Johnny moves closer to you. "Please keep your voice down," he says, looking over at Curly Bill and the other Cowboys.

You sigh. "Alright. But I'm not leaving until you talk to me! Why did you leave?"

Johnny's mouth falls open; women don't fight like this and they especially wouldn't risk their safety and reputation just for him. The emotions that strain his heart seem so unfamiliar and raw.

"I don't know," he whispers. "I've always been this way. You don't know me. I already told you not to waste your time with me!"

He turns to walk away, but you move in front of him. "You're NOT going to walk away from me again!" You say, your voice is rising again.

Johnny stands in shock at your boldness. He opens his mouth to speak, but can't find the words. The darkness inside of him begins to stir, but seems to blow slowly away, revealing a light he rarely experiences. He almost smiles, but maintains his cool. He brushes a hair away from your face. He says your name and then in an awkward manner, he removes his hat and stands like a child would stand, waiting for an admonishment.

"Johnny," you say softly. "Stop! Stop this!"

"I can't," he answers. "I am what I am and you just don't understand -,"

"Don't tell me I don't understand!" You say, your voice rises to the point, some of the Cowboys look over.

"YN," Johnny starts. "Find yourself a better man. I'll never be good enough for you!" Johnny turns to leave and you move so quickly, he can't avoid you. The part of Ringo that no one cares enough about to search for begins to awaken and that terrifies him more than any gunfight ever could.

"Johnny Ringo!" You say loudly. "I don't care who's watching! And I'm still not leaving!"

Curly Bill stands up and gazes at Johnny. Ringo signals Curly Bill need not worry.

"YN...I... Don't know what to say." Johnny puts his head down in shame.

You take his face in your delicate hands. He pulls away, feeling ashamed that you're seeing him in such a vulnerable way. Your hands feel soft and cool, a reminder of what the world could someday offer him.

"I..." He begins.

Your fiery eyes grow wide with concern and something unfamiliar; a sweet softness that demonstrates your unwavering commitment to him. He toys with the idea that love flutters in your heart. Love for him... Something he gave up on years ago when the war took everything. And the war brought a flood of sorrows through loss, sickness and death. Ringo saw the cruelty the human spirit can impose. Watching his family lose everything, his mother's disappointment in him, his father's death...How his family barely tolerated him now because of how he chose to cope with his loss. The way his sisters scowled at him when he returned to see them. He can still recall their harsh admonishments:

"Just look at yourself! You could have been anything and you chose to be a thief and a killer!"

"How Papa would feel if he saw you now! He was a good man, a lawyer! You're nothing and you have nothing! Even the clothes you're wearing were probably stolen!"

And after that, he never saw his family again.

Now you stand before him like a beacon of hope and light, nothing but concern in your eyes. And not the insincere concern of a ramera; real, genuine care for him. A warm feeling rushes through his chest.

"If you knew about me, you'd know to stay away from me," he tells you.

"Johnny!" You beg, practically falling on your knees. You suck back your tears and look him in his eyes. Your strength begins to betray you and your eyes glisten with tears.

"Johnny," your voice a whisper. "Why won't you talk to me?"

Johnny sees your pain and curses himself for causing it. He turns away so he doesn't have to see that sadness in your expression.

You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together. The idea of losing control of yourself or bursting into tears in front of a bunch of surly cowboys causes you to regain your strength.

You see Curly Bill and a few others glance over and then return to their tasks.

"You know where I live! Come this afternoon, please, Johnny!"

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