The Western Chronicles

by B L Miller and Vada Foster

Copyright: This story and the characters within are the ideas of the writers and no one else, hence they are copyrighted by B L Miller and Vada Foster. Please do not put this story on any site without our permission. We may be contacted at blmillerstories@aol.com and HRHVada@aol.com.

Sex: This story contains scenes of two women making love. If this offends you, please don’t read this story. There are plenty of other wonderful stories out there.

Violence: There are graphic scenes of violence within this story.

Abuse: This story contains scenes and/or descriptions of child abuse. If this bothers you, please don’t read this story.

Rape: This story contains references and/or scenes of rape. Please think carefully before reading. The rape does not include either main character.

Racism: This story contains dialogue between characters that contains derogatory comments in regards to color, race, or religion. These are NOT the personal feelings of the authors. If the words offend anyone, we apologize. It is not our intent. The words are only there because it is integral to the scene. If there was another way to have written the scenes, we would have.

There is no doubt in either of our minds that this story wouldn't have been completed if it wasn't for the never-ending dedication of Verda Foster.   She believed in this story from the first sentence and never gave up on it.   It is through her efforts as much as ours that this story made its way to the light of day and we dedicate The Western Chronicles to her.

1: Alone

The late afternoon sun set across the wind-ravaged canyon, turning the rock into a brilliant tapestry of orange and brown. The lone rider sat atop her golden mare, her raven hair flowing loose over her shoulders. The wide brim of her black Stetson kept the orange ball of flame from blinding her as she looked around for a safe place to sleep. She spotted a cave off in the distance, and leaned down to whisper into the horse's ear. "Come on, Phoenix. Just a little bit longer and we'll rest." Josie urged the horse forward up a narrow slope, her eyes watching the surrounding area the entire time. It had only been six weeks since her gang had been ambushed while trying to rob a train in Missouri. It was only her quick thinking and fast gun that kept her alive. She hoped that Henry and Jonah had also escaped; she'd seen them take off in separate directions to draw the posse away from her. She also knew that the ambush had been orchestrated by one of her men in an attempt to kill her, presumably to collect the bounty that was on her head. To be sold out for one thousand dollars by one of the men she had been riding with for two years still stuck in her craw. When they had set out on what was to be their last train robbery she could not have foreseen that before the day was out, she would be riding for her life with a fully armed posse on her heels, not knowing the fate of her two trusted comrades.

When she reached the cave entrance, Josie dismounted and removed the saddle and saddlebags from Phoenix' back. She tethered the mare to the base of a nearby tree, where she began to crop grass in the dappled shade.

Josie carried her few belongings into the cool interior of the cave. Not that there was much in the saddlebags; most of her supplies were left at the main camp when she left for her ill-fated trip to the railway siding. Once settled into the cave with a small fire to keep her warm, Josie took stock of her inventory, starting with her clothes. She had her black boots, complete with silver tips and spurs. Filthy black cotton trousers covered her legs, and a thin black long sleeved shirt and brown leather vest covered her upper torso. She wore a black leather belt that was more than just for keeping her pants up and a hidden pocket sewn into the inside concealed a small knife. If her hands were tied behind her back, the pocket was within easy reach. That little secret saved her life more than once. The vest also had a secret compartment. A dingy gray kerchief was wrapped around her neck. Her black Stetson was resting nearby. These were the only clothes she owned now.

Her weapons were the only other things she still had. Two Colt Peacemakers were strapped to her legs by bullet-rimmed gun belts that crossed each other over her slender hips.

A Winchester 73 in a brown leather scabbard was strapped to the saddle. Josie had less than six cartridges for it, since the rest had been expended while escaping from the posse. Each boot contained one bowie knife, and she still had her whip, albeit a bit shorter than when it was new.

Rummaging through the saddlebags again, she found no money, no dried meat, nothing she could use. Only a small bottle of ink and a broken pen resided in one pouch, while a fork and spoon took up another. Josie had no pots or pans, nothing in which to cook a meal. Removing the leather cover to her canteen and heating the metal container in the fire made hot water. She wished she had more than one canteen; the days were too hot to ride without draining the flask at least twice. Josie tried to follow the river, knowing that a town would eventually appear.

With no bedroll with which to cover herself, Josie laid her head on the saddle, using the scratchy saddle-blanket as a pillow, and settled in for a light sleep.

2: The Rescue

Josie urged Phoenix along, following the sounds of a woman's screams. Soundlessly she slid from the horses back, and with the grace of a cat she crept to the edge of a clearing from which the sounds emanated. She saw two scruffy men holding a young woman while a third was pawing at her body.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, boys?" Her voice startled the pawing man, who turned and began to reach for his gun. Josie's hands were quicker; she fired two shots into him before his gun was even half out of his holster. The other two let go of the girl and reached for their weapons. The sharp-shooting woman took them down with only one bullet each. If the truth were told, she could have killed the first man with only one bullet, but she felt that he deserved two for trying to rape the frightened woman.

The blonde woman sunk to the ground and huddled herself into a small ball. Josie couldn't see the girl's face as it was buried in her arms, but the rescuer could tell she was crying. With a shrug, the gunslinger turned away from the girl and walked to where the men lay in pools of their own blood. She stripped the gun belts from their bodies, and searched their pockets for coins or anything else that might be usable. The one who had been trying to tear the clothes off the young girl had a pocket full of Confederate currency, and even more stuffed into the band inside his gray uniform cap. With a shake of her head, Josie dropped the bills on top of his prostrate form. "The south won't rise again...and neither will you, Johnny." She straightened up and gave a sharp whistle, and Phoenix stopped munching grass on the edge of the clearing and trotted obediently to her mistress' side. Josie draped the three gun belts around the saddle horn, and stuffed the coins and two knives she had taken off of the dead men into the saddlebags. After securing the leather straps on the saddlebags, she put her foot in the stirrup and smoothly vaulted into the saddle. She made a clicking noise with her tongue, and the horse broke into a trot. The sound of the hoof beats penetrated through the girl's stupor.

"Wait!" The girl cried as she struggled to her feet. "You can't leave me here." She looked around at the blood soaked dead men, and the look in her eyes was that of a frightened child. "Please." She added quietly.

Josie's keen hearing picked up on the absolute fear and helplessness in the girl's voice. Cursing under her breath, she reined in her horse, and urged her closer to the girl. "What's your name, girl?" She spoke in her most intimidating voice.

"Re-Rebecca." She stammered. She looked up at the woman who had saved her. Dressed all in black save for the vest and scarf, the tall woman looked like death itself to the inexperienced farm girl. The only humanity she could see in the finely chiseled face was the piercing blue eyes.

"Do you have a home around here?" The gunslinger asked.

"N-No. I live in Chancetown." Josie groaned inwardly. Chancetown was several hours ride in the opposite direction. Looking around, the outlaw saw no signs of horses.

"Where are their horses?" She demanded.

"Uh..." Rebecca shook her head. "They had a wagon...I don't..."

"I'm going to go have a look for it. Stay here!" Josie barked as she urged Phoenix out of the clearing.

Two hours passed before Josie returned. Rebecca was sitting, once again curled up in a ball, as far away from the dead men as she could get, and still be in sight when the gunslinger returned. As she approached the clearing, Josie noticed the vultures starting to circle overhead. She stopped the horse in front of the girl. Rebecca looked up at her but said nothing.

"I found the wagon. It had gone over the edge of a cliff. I had to shoot the horses." She had only been able to salvage a few of the drifter's goods, as most of them had been smashed beyond use in the fall down the hill, but she saw no need to share this information with the young woman.

"How do I get back home?" Rebecca asked softly, her voice on the verge of breaking. She had never been away from home before and now she was with a woman who had just killed three men.

Josie pointed in the direction of the town. "Go that way. On foot, it'll take you no more than a day." The girl nodded and slowly rose to walk away. Josie debated and argued with herself for a few moments before nudging Phoenix forward to catch the girl. Rebecca stopped as the woman in black dismounted.

"Get up there. I'll drop you off outside of town." Rebecca looked up at the tall horse.

"He's awfully big."

"SHE'S a horse! They're supposed to be big." Josie snarled. Rebecca quickly moved to put her foot in the stirrup. Her long dress and endless petticoats made it impossible for her to mount the tall beast. Josie grabbed her and threw her on the ground. "Spread your legs." Rebecca looked at her, horrified. Josie grabbed one ankle and yanked her legs apart. Before the young woman could protest, she pulled a bowie knife out of her boot and stabbed through the material, halfway between the girl's hips and knees. After putting the knife back, Josie grabbed the torn material with both hands and ripped it the rest of the way down to the hem. "Stand up." Josie made no effort to help the frightened girl up. Rebecca climbed to her feet, still quite fearful of the woman with the guns. Josie boosted the terrified blonde up into the saddle and then mounted up behind her.

The torn ends of the blonde woman's dress flapped in the wind as they made their way to Chancetown. Rebecca gripped the saddle horn with both hands as the large horse's hooves ate up the ground beneath them. Josie's hands rested on her own thighs, the left hand holding the reins. She was never comfortable with physical contact, unless she was fighting. This frightened child needed comforting, but that ability was not something that the outlaw was willing to do. All she wanted was to get the blonde safely home so she could get back to her own business.

"Um...can I ask you something?" Rebecca said timidly.

"You just did." She answered wryly.

"Oh, well, I guess I did. I-I was just wondering what your name was. So I could thank you properly for saving my life."

"You sure you want to know, little girl?" Josie taunted. The woman sitting in front of her nodded. "The name is Josie Hunter."

Rebecca stiffened and gripped the horn even tighter. "Josie Hunter, the outlaw? Terror of the Train rails?" She stopped when she realized that the names might not go over so well with the heavily armed woman behind her.

"The same." Josie replied. "Any more questions?"

"What? Oh, no Jo-I mean..."

"You mean to keep quiet and not bother me or I'll kill you without a thought." Josie said firmly. Rebecca pressed her lips together tightly and vowed to do just that.

3: Chancetown

Rebecca's knuckles were white from holding on to the saddle horn. Josie pulled up the reins the instant she saw the first signs of civilization. Wordlessly, she dismounted and waited for the young woman to get off her horse so she could be on her way. It took a moment for Rebecca to disengage her fingers from the horn and dismount. Josie climbed back into the saddle.

"Wait, you're not going to leave me here all alone, are you?"

"Chancetown is right over there." Josie nudged Phoenix and took off, leaving the blonde woman standing there. Rebecca turned and headed home; not as excited as she should have been, although not really knowing why.

As Rebecca walked through the main street in town, she could not help but notice that several people stopped and blatantly gawked at her. The wife of the man who ran the feed and grain store recognized the girl, and draping a horse blanket over her shoulders, she escorted the shaken young woman to the doctor's office. The doctor sent his son to tell Rebecca's family that she was in town. While waiting for the doctor to examine her, she got a look at herself in a mirror, and she understood why everyone was so worried. She was a mess. Her dress was completely ruined from the outlaw's knife, and stained by the men's blood. Her hair was loosely scattered about her head, with bits of grass and dirt tangled up in it. It took vigorous protesting by Rebecca to convince the doctor that she wasn't in need of a personal examination. The sheriff arrived at the same time as her parents. Her mother took one look at the torn dress and burst into tears. Her father scowled at her.

"How could you let something like this happen to you!" He roared as he stepped closer to her, his hand upraised. Sheriff Wellman stepped between them.

"Now, just hold on there, Caleb. We don't know what happened yet. No sense beating the girl for something she ain't done yet." The beefy sheriff waited until the angry man lowered his hand before turning to look at Rebecca, who was being held in a death-lock hug by her mother. "Girl, what happened?" He asked.

It took a moment for Rebecca to get Sarah to release her. "I was out in the fields when three men in a wagon stopped and asked if I could tell them how to get to Chancetown. While I was telling one of them, the other two came up from behind and grabbed me. They threw me into the wagon and took off. I..." She was cut off by her father's angry voice.

"And you let them?" He growled as he took a step forward. The sheriff turned his head and gave Caleb a warning glare.

"I didn't let them!" Rebecca cried. "I tried to get away from them but there were three of them, and..."

"Did they hurt you, child?" Sarah asked her daughter, with genuine concern in her voice.

"No. They were going to but I was rescued."

"Rescued?" Her father asked incredulously. "And just who'd be the one that rescued you?"

"Josie Hunt..." She started to say the outlaw's full name, but stopped herself out of fear for what the gunslinger would do to her if she were caught because she told the sheriff she was in the area. Quickly she added, "I-I think that's what she said her name was. I was so upset I might have mis-heard."

"You trying to say Josie Hunter saved you?" Caleb said angrily. "Drag me out of the fields for this nonsense!" He glared at his wife. "This is all your fault for letting her daydream all the time and read those books. Nothin' good ever came from reading no books. She should be learning how to be some man's wife 'stead of all the time havin' her nose buried in some damn book."

"But Daddy, I-" A strong slap across the face silenced her. Sarah cried out, but made no effort to stop him.

"You always did talk too much fer yer own good, girl. Look at you!" He looked at her disheveled hair and clothes. "Why, you ain't much better than them bitches and whores over to the saloon." He grabbed Rebecca by the upper arm, squeezing it painfully. "You git yourself out to the wagon right now, girl! You hear me?"

"Y-yes, you're hurting me." She cried as his fingers tightened. Sarah knew better than to interfere. She stepped back a few feet and silently prayed that he wouldn't beat her in front of the sheriff.

"You ain't seen hurt like yer gonna see it when I git you back home", he hissed under his breath so only Rebecca could hear him. Visions of her father's ideas of punishment flashed through her mind. She started to shake her head back and forth.

"No, daddy, please. I didn't do anything wrong."

"You're lying, girl! Makin' up stories 'bout that outlaw rescuing you. Why, even I know that murderin' bitch died a while back with her gang. 'Sides, she's purely evil; ain't no way she'd risk her own neck to go and save your worthless hide." He smacked her once more before dragging her out to their wagon and roughly pushing her into the back. He didn't bother to help Sarah up. Sheriff Wellman came over and silently assisted her. Caleb climbed up on his side and grabbed the reins, unmindful of his daughter's tears.

Sheriff Wellman watched them drive away. His eyes locked on the sad green eyes in the back of the wagon. Doctor Thompson stood next to him.

"Think she's tellin' the truth?" The sheriff asked.

"Hard to say. But if she is, she'd be better off with the outlaw than her father right now." Dr. Thompson decided not to mention the numerous faded bruises he saw when he examined her.

"You may very well be right about that, Doc." The Sheriff knew all too well just how violent Caleb's temper was. He'd pulled the man out of enough barroom brawls over the years to know just how badly alcohol affected the farmer. It was obvious now that Caleb had already started his daily drinking binge.

Rebecca lay awake, tears streaming down her face. She was in too much pain to sleep anyway. Upon arriving at the farm, her father had dragged her into the barn and beat her severely with a leather strap until in desperation she made up a story that he believed. She told him that she had met up with a young man from town, who tried to have his way with her. When she refused, the boy slapped her around and left her miles from home. She said she tore her dress on barbed wire while crawling under a fence. He smiled and accepted that story, giving her a fresh beating for lying about the outlaw and the men, and another series of lashes for running away in the first place. Only when his massive arm ached from raising the strap did he finally drop the leather and leave the barn. Rebecca slumped to the earthen floor, the last sound she heard was him cursing her as he headed to the house. Only when she was certain that he'd drunk himself into a stupor did she dare leave the barn and enter the house. Her sister Kate and her mother helped her get cleaned up and put ointment on the multitude of lashes and cuts on her back and legs. Her thin dress and corset did nothing to ease the severity of the blows from the strap. Her mother had long ago run out of words to comfort her oldest daughter. For some reason, Caleb visited his wrath on Rebecca more than on any of his other women. Sarah suspected it was because no matter how much he beat her, he could not break Rebecca's spirit.

Now lying in bed, her body in agony, Rebecca wondered just why she had bothered to return. She tried to roll over and winced in pain as her thin nightshirt rubbed against her tender skin. A loud crash downstairs told her that her father was now awake from his drunken slumber. Fear of another beating gripped her. This was no way to live, she thought. As he lumbered up the stairs, Rebecca heard him mumbling about his troublesome daughter and how he could only hope that "this damn foolishness" did not ruin her chances of finding a husband.

Rebecca waited until she heard the snores coming from her parent's room before climbing out of her bed. She walked carefully around the floorboards that she knew creaked to avoid waking Kate, who was sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. Pulling one peasant dress from the pile of dirty clothes and grabbing her shoes, she quietly left their room and headed downstairs. After dressing quickly, she found a pen and ink and wrote a short note telling her mother and sister that she loved them and would send word soon.

Once away from the farm, Rebecca realized that she had no idea which direction to take. Other than the farm, Chancetown was really the only place she knew. Without consciously thinking of where she was going, she found herself walking down the main street of town. Sheriff Wellman stepped out of the saloon at the same moment she walked by.

"Hold up, girl. Where you goin'?" Rebecca looked at him fearfully. Her eyes reminded the lawman of a frightened deer.

"I-I..." She wasn't sure what to say to him. "Please don't say anything." She finally asked fearfully.

"Come here." He gently grabbed her arm, mentally cursing himself as he watched her flinch. Letting go he motioned for her to follow him over to the jail.

"No, please...I can't go back...please." She begged.

"Quiet down, child." He said softly as he opened the door to the jailhouse. Lighting a lantern, he motioned for her to sit down in a nearby chair as he walked behind a desk and sat down. "Do you have any money?"

"No." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small strongbox. Opening it, he pulled out two dollars and handed them to her. "I know it's only sixteen bits, but you can't go out there with nothing."

She took the money and stuffed it in her boot. "I don't know how to thank you." Rebecca began. The Sheriff cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't thank me, child. I know your father. I should have stopped him a long time ago. You better get going before the sun comes up and he discovers you missing." Rebecca stood up to leave. "Where you goin' anyway?"

"West." She said as she opened the door.

4: Snakes

Rebecca tried to follow the tracks of the outlaw, but the half moon wasn't cooperative. Several times she strayed off course, ending up almost a mile off by the time daylight started to help her. Fear of her father put life into her steps as she finally picked up the trail and started to follow it.

Her peasant dress was stuck to her skin by the time evening mercifully set in. Rebecca's stomach was growling and her throat was parched. Her legs felt like iron weights as she trudged along, no longer sure if the hoof prints belonged to the gold colored horse or not. A vulture flew overhead, screeching his arrival. The tired woman quickened her pace to somewhere between a crawl and a walk. The burning orange of the setting sun was in her eyes, blinding her to the danger so close by. Only the telltale rattle gave her any warning.

Rebecca came to a total stop, her eyes wide in terror. It wasn't just one rattlesnake; she had inadvertently stepped into a nest of the deadly creatures. One on the left side started to move in no particular direction, merely uncoiling and recoiling. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she was certain it was going to break through her ribs. She willed her legs to move, but they were frozen in place by her fear. The rattler slithered along the ground, its forked tongue slipping in and out of its mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw several other snakes also starting to uncoil. A bloodcurdling scream pierced the evening air as her legs found life and started to run back away from the venomous snakes. Relocating the trail, Rebecca ran as fast as she could, her lungs burning with the effort. In the far distance, she swore she heard the sound of a horse running hard, or was it just the blood pounding in her ears? Stumbling over a large stone, she fell face first onto the dusty ground. With the twilight, the large horse almost didn't see her lying there. Only at the last second did Phoenix rear her head and move to the right to avoid trampling the girl. "Whoa."

Josie looked around for signs of other people. Seeing none, she dismounted and looked at the grime covered face with the green eyes. She almost laughed at the sight. In her sternest voice she asked, "Are you the one who let out that horrid scream?"

"Yes. There were these snakes, lots of them, and..."

"You screamed like that for a few snakes?" Josie asked incredulously. "I heard you from miles away."

"I was scared. There were so many of them." Rebecca slowly rose to her feet, her whole body protesting the use of the muscles.

"You shouldn't be out here." Josie took another look at the girl. "I left you in that town."

"I couldn't stay there anymore." Without a word, Josie vaulted effortlessly onto Phoenix.

"Don't follow me, girl!" The outlaw warned before urging the horse into a gallop back to her campsite. Josie mentally cursed herself. Dinner was certain to be ruined now. She had left it on the spit when she heard the scream echoing through the canyon. The hungry outlaw swore that if she ever saw that annoying little brat again, she would shoot her.

5: Dinner

In her anger at the blackened lump that was supposed to be her dinner, Josie kicked the spit, sending the burnt food and wood flying. Grabbing her knife from her boot, she set off to catch another rabbit. Darkness had already settled, making it more difficult for her to find more meat.

Two hours later, a large jackrabbit was skewered on a new spit and set to cook. Josie settled down against a large rock and started to disassemble and clean one of her guns. For safety's sake, she always had one fully loaded at all times. The firelight bounced off the gleaming metal as she slowly and methodically polished the weapon. After both guns were perfectly cleaned and polished, she reached for her Winchester.

Josie had just opened the breech of the rifle when she heard the clear sounds of someone moving closer to her. Whoever it was was making too much noise to be of any danger, but the outlaw put her hand on her Peacemaker just in case. A branch must have hit the girl because Josie heard the quickly becoming familiar voice yelp. She released her grip on the handle of her gun. "You'd better come out here before I start shooting." She yelled.

Rebecca stumbled through the brush and into the small clearing. The flames illuminated the frown on the outlaw's face. "I told you not to follow me." Josie scowled, turning her attention back to the cooking food.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm cold and hungry and I smelled your food, and well I guess I just followed my nose." Rebecca started to ramble on, then thought better of it when the outlaw glared at her. Josie said nothing, turning her attention back to the food. Unsure of what to do, Rebecca backed up a few steps and sat down, her face barely visible in the campfire. She sat quietly and watched as the outlaw slowly cleaned her rifle, seemingly oblivious to the burning food. "You're going to ruin it." She said clearly, although inside she was nervous. Josie glared at her. "I mean the rabbit. It's burning."

Cursing loudly, Josie reached over and turned the spit. One side of the skinned animal was burned slightly, but most of the meat was still good. Without saying a word, she sat back and returned to the task of cleaning her weapon. This time, however, she kept one eye on her dinner.

Rebecca watched as Josie cut the meat off of the carcass and laid it on a flat piece of bark. The outlaw deftly sliced the hunks of meat into smaller pieces. Stabbing the pieces with her knife, Josie ate half the meat while the hungry woman watched. The outlaw looked over at her. "Here." She held out the piece of bark holding the meat. "Come on, I know you're hungry. Your stomach makes almost as much noise as your mouth." Josie didn't bother to admit that it was only the girl's interruption that kept the rabbit from being burnt to a crisp.

Rebecca timidly walked over to take the makeshift plate from the outlaw. Once the plate was in her hand, however, the smell of the cooked meat overwhelmed her fear. She sat right down, only a few feet from Josie, and proceeded to greedily eat the rabbit. "Mmm, oh this is so good, mmm, I haven't eaten since... oh thank you, by the way. I didn't know if you were going to, mm, give me any, even though you should have, since... I saved your dinner." Josie's eyebrow arched prominently as the rest of her face remained stoic and unreadable. Rebecca decided that perhaps she had said too much. She ate another bite in silence as her eyes settled on the canteen.

"Here." Josie said in an exasperated tone as she handed her the water. "Try not to drink it all." Rebecca heard the words and took only a few small swallows before handing it back. Her thirst was barely touched but she dared not take any more. Josie knew by the weight of the flask that the girl had taken very little. The green eyes still stared at the container. Cursing herself inwardly, Josie passed the canteen back. Rebecca smiled and drained the flask.

Rebecca set the now empty piece of bark down and stared at the ground. "Did you want something else?" Josie growled, keeping her focus on the rifle.

"Sorry, it's just that it's warmer by the fire." She looked around. "And there are no snakes."

"Make your own damned fire." The outlaw muttered in a voice clear enough for the young woman to hear. Rebecca nodded and slowly rose to her feet. She faced away from the outlaw, her head hung low.

"Thank you for the food and water." She said as she slowly walked away, hoping that the outlaw would offer to let her stay. No such words came.

Rebecca walked until she could just make out the campsite through the brush. She sat down on the ground and leaned her back against a tree; her focus fixed on the woman near the fire. She fell asleep to the sight of Josie stoking the fire with logs, banking it for the night.

Josie silently crept over to where she knew the girl was sleeping. The pale moonlight pierced through the leaves and shone upon the sleeping face. She now saw bruises that weren't there the day before. 'No wonder you're running away.' Josie thought to herself. 'But I'm not going to be your caretaker.'

6: The Shadow

Rebecca woke to a bright sun beating down on her. She quickly scrambled to her feet, wincing at the soreness. The outlaw was gone. She moved into the campsite and placed her hand over the now dead fire. It was cold. Ignoring the pain in her legs and feet, Rebecca set out to follow Josie. As she walked, she wondered if the outlaw knew she was sleeping only a few feet away. She tried to remember the stories she had heard about Josie.

The details were sketchy to her, but the general information was clear. Josie was wanted in more than half the states for one thing or another. She led gangs on raids of wagons and stagecoaches. Rebecca thought that she had read that train robberies were the dark clothed woman's specialty. Rumor was that the 'Terror of the Train Rails' was responsible for no less than one hundred deaths and even more shootings and robberies. Rebecca tried to merge the image of the outlaw that she had read about with the image that she had seen. Josie Hunter was featured in several of the dime novels Rebecca had read in bits and pieces sitting on a barrel in the back of the mercantile while her mother shopped. But the woman described in those stories bore no resemblance - other than in name - to the exotic creature who grudgingly shared a meal with her last night. Her father had said that Josie was pure evil, but that wasn't what she saw. Why would someone who was purely evil bother to rescue her from bandits, or give her food to eat? Surely she would have just let her go to her fate, perhaps even killed her herself. No, the tall woman in black wasn't purely evil. There was some good in that heart, of that Rebecca was sure. She wondered what had happened to make the blue-eyed woman become one of the most feared criminals in the West.

She followed the trail all day, resting only for a few minutes at a small creek to wash her face and drink as much water as she could without choking. She didn't know how much of a head start Josie had on her, and she didn't want to add to the distance. Her feet protested every step, and her legs screamed with every stride. Rebecca didn't know why she felt so compelled to follow the outlaw, she just knew that she had to.

Cresting a small rise, Josie noted the signs of a small camp. A quick look at the horses and tents told her that there were at least five men. At the moment, three were engaged in a card game. She didn't see any others. Urging Phoenix to go back down the rise, Josie thought about the blonde girl. The outlaw was certain that the young woman was following her. Josie dismounted and hid herself and Phoenix within the cover of nearby trees. Sure enough, within an hour, the blonde woman appeared in the distance.

Josie wasn't the only one to notice the girl in a dirty dress walking. One of the men from the camp had climbed up the rise to relieve himself and whistled. "Hey boys! Guess what's headin' our way." Five other men climbed up the rise and looked to see what all the fuss was about. Josie cursed silently and took a small step backward to hide herself more. "Thomas..." The first man said quietly, although Josie's keen hearing picked up every word. "You and John head over that way." He turned to face the other men. "Mike and Sam, you two go over there. Rich and I will stay here. We'll surround her." The men laughed lecherously.

If there was one thing that Josie hated, it was a bunch of men trying to pick on a small girl. Putting her hands on her guns, she stepped out from the cover of the trees. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size? Or are little girls all you can handle?" Two men reached for their side arms. Josie's bullets flew, cutting them both down. "Anyone else?"

Rebecca heard the gunshots and panicked; she dove under the nearest bush and prayed no part of her clothing was showing. There were several more exchanges of gunfire before there was a long period of silence.

"You can come out now, girl." Josie said in an annoyed tone. Rebecca slowly climbed out from the bushes and looked at the outlaw. Josie gracefully slid from her saddle. In three long strides she was within arms reach of Rebecca. "You don't listen very well. I had to kill six men to keep them from raping you. That makes a total of nine men's deaths on my hands because of you." Rebecca didn't know what to say. She felt bad for the men dying.

"I'm sorry." She said meekly. In an instant, Josie's gun was against her nose. She heard the unmistakable sound of the hammer cocking.

"Don't be sorry, just improve. Figure out a way to save your own hide; I'm sick of doing it for you." She looked at the blonde thoughtfully. "I should kill you now to make sure you don't bother me anymore." Rebecca said nothing as she looked down at the cool steel pressed against her nose. Deciding that her point was made, Josie pulled her gun back, releasing the hammer gently before sliding it into her holster. She mounted Phoenix and turned back to the men's camp.

Continued in Part Two

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