brushed a stray
lock of black hair away from the older woman's face. The Western Chronicles
11: The Calm Port
Rebecca helped Josie sit up and eat, filling the air with a
constant chatter the whole time. She discovered quickly that the outlaw was quite
interested in history and proceeded to tell the story of the Boston Tea Party. When she
noticed the blue eyes fighting to stay awake, she moved closer and spoke in lower tones.
The soft voice had the desired effect. Within minutes, Josie was sound asleep. Rebecca
lingered a while longer, enjoying the opportunity to see the outlaw unguarded and
vulnerable. She brushed a stray
lock of black hair away from the older woman's face.
"She'd break your hand if she saw that." Rebecca jumped out of her seat and turned to see Belle standing in the doorway.
"I didn't...I mean I...."
"Relax, child. Just giving you a warning. I've known Josie for many years now, and touching just isn't something she's good at."
"What do you know about her? I mean, it's not like she's much for girl talk or anything," they both chuckled quietly.
"I think whatever Josie wants you to know about her, she'll tell. I make it a point not to talk about other people, especially when they can shoot as well as her." She waited until Rebecca nodded in understanding. "Now, she ain't gonna be able to help out around here for a while, so you're going to help out for her. Right now I think we should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
And tomorrow was a busy day, as were the days after that. Belle put the young woman to work mending fences and tending to the horses. In the evening, Rebecca would pull buckets of water from the well to use for cooking and cleaning. At night, she would eat dinner with Josie and tell her more stories about the war of independence.
"...and then General Arnold moved his troops north..."
"Why did you stay?" Josie interrupted. Rebecca looked at her for a moment, as if not understanding the question.
"I stayed because you're my friend. Friends do that for one another, you know."
There was a long silence as Josie turned her head to stare at a knot on the wall. Rebecca sat there silently, unsure of what to say or if she should leave or not. "Thank you," the outlaw finally said quietly. Her face was an unreadable mask.
"Well, um..." Rebecca stood up and rubbed her hands on the front of her dress as she tried not to let her happiness at the thanks show. "Guess it's time to turn in. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day," she unconsciously rubbed her aching forearms.
"If you rub liniment into it, it won't hurt as much," Josie said. She received a warm smile for her efforts.
"Thanks." Without thinking about it, Rebecca leaned forward and gave the outlaw a quick hug. "Good night." She felt Josie stiffen and make no effort to return the embrace. "Sorry."
"It's all right, Rebecca. I'm just not a touchy-feely kind of person, that's all." She fixed her blue eyes on a knot on the wall for a moment. "Don't forget to rub liniment on those muscles," she added softly.
"I won't forget. Good night." As she left the room Rebecca smiled from ear to ear. They had actually spoken kind words to one another. She had called Josie a friend and the outlaw had looked for a moment as if she were going to respond in kind. The young woman took it as a very good sign indeed.
12: Lessons
"If you're gonna ride with Josie, you need to learn some things. You do want to be helpful, don't you?", Belle said as she handed the young woman a mug of coffee.
"Anything, name it. I'll learn anything," Rebecca said enthusiastically.
"How are you at sewing?" She almost laughed at the stricken look on the blonde girl's face.
"I can't sew to save my soul."
"Well, you're gonna learn, my dear. Wounds need to be stitched, not to mention clothing. A neat row of small, tight stitches helps to prevent infection and disease. Now you wouldn't want Josie to go through life with a jagged scar 'cause you didn't stitch it right, now would you?", Belle said as she rose and pulled out a small sewing basket from under the counter.
"No, of course not." She looked at the materials being laid out in front of her with trepidation. "But you mean I'd have to actually do that...put a needle...into her skin?", she paled at the thought.
"Just think of it as soft leather." She placed a needle in Rebecca's hand. "Now let's get started."
An hour later, Rebecca held up a two small pieces of leather sewn together. Belle took it from her and held it up to the light. She shook her head. "Does that seam look straight to you?" Before Rebecca could even reply she pulled a small knife from her belt and cut the threads apart. "Try again, and this time pay attention to the seam, not just the stitches."
Hours later an extremely frustrated Rebecca handed Belle her latest effort, fully expecting it to be pulled apart again. The older woman went through her usual routine to inspect it. "Not bad. Quite an improvement over when we began, now wouldn't you say?" she added as she handed it back to the young woman. Rebecca turned it over in her hands, noting that it did indeed look better than her first attempts. Belle collected the loose materials and put them back in the basket. "Starting tomorrow, you practice your stitching for one hour each morning and one hour each night. Work on straight seams and jagged ones. Mend your clothing to fit you properly. If I see one seam out of line, I'll tear the whole thing apart and make you start over."
After a week Josie was up on her feet and starting to feel a bit anxious to leave. With the aid of a cane she walked over to her window and looked out. Rebecca was sitting under a tree, taking advantage of the afternoon shade. The outlaw's keen eyes picked out that the young woman was sewing, all of her attention on her task. A soft knock on the door interrupted her. "Come in, Belle." Belle was pleased to see Josie on her feet. She could not help but notice that the gunslinger's eyes were riveted on the attractive young blonde out in the yard.
"She's pretty spunky, that one," Belle said with a chuckle. "Been practicing her stitching all the time." She walked up behind the outlaw and joined her in watching the young woman. "She's trying to impress you."
"She's afraid I'm going to leave her behind somewhere."
"Are you?" Hearing no answer, Belle continued. "How long has she been traveling with you?"
"Not long. This isn't a permanent arrangement."
"Well, it don't hurt none for her to know how to stitch people up."
Josie moved from the window back to the bed. "Nope, I don't suppose it does."
Even though Belle offered her the use of the other unoccupied bedroom, Rebecca preferred to sleep on a pallet on the floor in Josie's room, explaining that she wanted to be close in case Josie needed something. She was awakened one night by the sounds of the tall woman thrashing about in her bed. When Josie cried out as if in pain, Rebecca leapt to her feet and groped her way to the bed in the darkness.
"Nooo," Josie moaned as she violently shook her head from side to side. Without hesitation, Rebecca climbed up onto the bed with the outlaw. She slid her arm under her shoulder and pulled Josie's head to her chest. Gently she ran her hand over Josie's sweat drenched forehead and hair, and softly she began to sing.
Belle was also wakened by the sounds of the gunslinger, but she immediately recognized it for the nightmare it was. Josie had always been plagued by nightmares, often times calling out in remembered pain long into the night. Belle considered going to see if there was something she could do, when she heard the sweet strains of 'Beautiful Dreamer' in a clear and beautiful voice. The sounds of Josie's nightmare were no longer audible; with a smile Belle relaxed back onto her own bed, listening to the young girl sing.
When Josie's breathing was once again deep and even and her brow no longer furrowed, Rebecca eased herself out from under the sleeping woman. She actually hated to leave the comforting warmth of Josie's body, but she was afraid she would fall asleep herself, and the thought of what Josie would do if she found her there was enough to send her back to her pallet on the floor.
After healing from her gunshot wound, Josie helped Belle mend the roof and do other repairs around the small ranch. Every so often Rebecca would come into view, usually caring for one of the horses or hauling buckets of water. The outlaw noted that not once had she heard her young companion complain of all the hard labor.
Rebecca worked as hard as she could, trying to prove to both women that she was capable of pulling her own weight. Belle was more forthcoming with the compliments, but it was the rare look of approval in Josie's face that encouraged her to continue on when her limbs ached and her muscles screamed. The liberal amounts of liniment helped, but only slightly.
The extra time devoted to practicing her stitches showed in Rebecca's newly tailored clothes. Knowing that she would be expected to wear pants if she wanted to ride double with Josie, she determined to make the clothes that they had taken from the dead man fit her as well as Josie's fit her. She succeeded more than she would have imagined. She no longer had to push her sleeves up just to see her hands. Her britches were now the right length and no longer required a belt to stay up. There was no mistaking the pride in her face when she showed off her outfit for the first time.
"Wonderful, Rebecca," Belle said as she inspected the seams. "When you first picked up the needle you couldn't stitch a straight line. Now look what you've done. Child, you can do anything you set your mind to if you only try."
Rebecca looked over to Josie. "Better," was all the outlaw said, but the small smile on her face spoke much more. The smile that swept across the young blonde woman's face remained there for the rest of the day as she went about her chores.
13: Parting
"Where are you headed?", Belle asked as she watched Josie saddle Phoenix. The early morning heat hung in the air, promising a scorcher of a day ahead. The gunslinger wiped her brow with her bandanna.
"Tombstone; you know that little mining town not far from here." Belle nodded. Josie looked around to make sure Rebecca wasn't nearby then leaned in close and spoke quietly. "She'll be safe enough there."
"She's been getting stronger, ya know. Working so hard here and all. She's a good talker, unlike someone we know," her eyes twinkled at the scowl from Josie. "That little sprite's got a strong heart."
"I'm not changing my mind, Belle."
Josie turned her attention back to tightening straps and checking the fit of the bridle. Belle looked out and caught sight of the young blonde heading their way. "She's coming, Josie." She turned to look at her dark headed friend. "That girl has worked her rear off trying to impress you while you healed and now you're just gonna dump her like a sack of mealy flour?"
"Belle," she sighed. "Just how safe do you think it would be for a young innocent girl like that to be following me all over the place? All it'll mean to her is an early death...or worse." She took the reins and led the horse out of the stall. She had already packed their supplies on the smaller horse, and she gathered up her lead rope as well as she walked from the stable. She turned back to Belle and said, "Don't say anything to her." Belle nodded. She knew Josie would do what she thought was best, regardless of anything she might say or do.
"Ready?", Rebecca asked expectantly as she watched the outlaw exit the stable, Belle close behind her. Josie mounted and held her hand out, pulling the young woman up effortlessly behind her.
"Hang on," she said before nudging Phoenix into a trot, giving a short wave to the sharpshooter as they pulled out of sight. Rebecca turned her head and caught a sad look on Belle's face. As she waved, the prairie girl swore she saw the sharpshooter's lips form the words 'take care of her'.
14: Girl Talk
They rode in silence for five hours before Josie decided to take a break. Finding a shady area, she pulled Phoenix to a stop and helped Rebecca down before dismounting herself. Removing the saddlebag that held the stash of food that Belle packed for them, Josie walked over and sat down with her back supported by a large tree. "She packed enough food for an army," she quipped as Rebecca sat across from her and took the offered piece of jerky. She looked at the eagerness with which the young woman was eating the dried strip of meat. Rebecca looked up and saw a twinkle in the light blue eyes and a slight smile tugging at the gunslinger's lips. She rolled her eyes and Josie chuckled, dissipating the tension that always seemed to be present around them. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad having her around, the gunslinger thought as she passed the canteen of water to her. A momentary pang of lost innocence tugged at her and Josie let the thought pass from her mind. Once they got to Tombstone, Rebecca would just have to find someone else to take care of her, that was all there was to it, she thought. Oblivious to the outlaw's internal struggle, Rebecca chattered away while she ate. "You know," she said as she shoved a piece of bread in her mouth, "you could always become a bounty hunter."
"A bounty hunter?" Josie spat contemptuously. "They're the lowest form of life on the earth. Nothing but money hungry murderers who'd kill ya as soon as look at ya." She pulled a hunk of bread off of the loaf and put it in her mouth.
"It's a perfectly 'legal' profession," Rebecca urged, pulling her head back slightly when she saw Josie's eyes narrow at her inflection of 'legal'. "I mean, uh, that you could make money that way, and you'd probably be able to get pardons if you catch someone big enough."
Too fast for Rebecca to react, Josie moved forward, closing the distance between them until all that the young woman could see was the deepness of her blue eyes, which were flaring. "You want me to hunt down people that I used to ride with? To help the law when all they want to do is see me hanging from a noose?"
"And why would they want to do that to you, Josie?" She took a deep breath in fear of going too far for the temperamental outlaw. "Perhaps if you tried to help make the world a little better, like you did in Mason's Gulch, maybe they wouldn't be so quick to wrap a rope around your neck."
A long silence passed between them before Josie leaned back against the tree. "It's easier to rob trains," she said casually, not realizing that she had fallen into the trap set by the young woman.
"Uh huh, but think about this...people don't usually shoot at you when you bring another criminal into town. They look at you as a hero, not a villain. Besides, think of how much fun it would be to put some of your enemies behind bars." The faraway look in the outlaw's eyes told her that she had found an opening. "All those who betrayed you, who hurt women and children and are still running around; wouldn't you like to see them get what they deserve?"
Just when Rebecca thought she had Josie right where she wanted her, the outlaw looked at her and spoke calmly. "I don't care. As long as they stay out of my way, I'll stay out of theirs." She shrugged her shoulders and continued to eat. Josie's features hid her amusement at the scowl on the younger woman's face. Rebecca decided that the rest of the meal would be a silent affair while she thought up a new plan. No matter how hard the outlaw tried to be rough and mean, the young woman knew deep down inside she was a kind and gentle person who could and would do the right thing if given the chance. As the day wore on and they were once again on their way, Rebecca's mind filled with questions that she wanted to ask but didn't dare. What caused Josie to become a criminal in the first place? Did she have a family? Time passed quickly as both women remained lost in their own thoughts. Josie concentrated on the words exchanged during dinner.
When darkness settled across the land, Josie pulled off the dirt trail and found a suitable area for bunking down for the night. The gunslinger concentrated on cleaning her weapons and sharpening her knives while Rebecca tried out her sewing skills by mending a tear in her blanket while reciting more of her story about Benedict Arnold before moving on to Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys. Josie half-listened, nodding occasionally but doing nothing to discourage the conversation. When it came time for sleep, the women laid their blankets out on the ground on opposite sides of the fire. "Good night, Josie," she said before letting out a long yawn. She closed her eyes, not expecting an answer.
"Good night, Rebecca," the outlaw answered softly.
15: Tombstone
Josie left Phoenix at the OK Corral and the pair walked over to the saloon. Rebecca had wisely changed into her dress. Despite it's battered appearance, it would certainly raise fewer questions than her britches would. Josie of course remained in her dark outfit, looking every bit the outlaw. She grabbed the younger woman's upper arm and pulled her close to speak before entering the saloon. "Listen to me carefully. Don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone, and never leave my side." The look in her blue eyes and the tone in her voice made it clear that this wasn't any kind of request. Rebecca nodded, noting somewhere in the back of her mind that at least the outlaw was bringing her in instead of leaving her somewhere else to wait for her.
Pushing the swinging half doors apart Josie strode in and took an all-encompassing look around. A long bar took up the wall on the left, while stairs and a piano took the wall at the far end. The right side of the saloon consisted of several small green felt covered round tables surrounded by chairs, some of which looked ready to fall apart. Josie kept Rebecca between her and the door as they walked over to the bar. "Whiskey," she ordered, and as an afterthought she added, "and sarsaparilla."
There was no question as to which drink belonged to whom. The portly barkeep placed the shot glass and bottle in front of the tall woman and handed the smaller woman the non-alcoholic drink. "Two bits for the whiskey and twenty cents for the soda."
Josie tossed the coins on the bar and turned to watch the goings on. Her eyes fell on a table of three men playing poker. With one gulp, she drained her drink and set the glass on the bar. "Stay here," she said before walking over to the trio.
"Hello boys." They looked up from their battered cards to see the imposing woman towering over them. "You seem to be short. Is my money any good at this table?"
The biggest of the men, a large, burly fellow with a scraggly beard and a long jagged scar across his face looked at the meager pot in front of him. The potential benefit from letting this woman into the game was appealing. Despite the six guns slung low on her hips, she was still a woman, and he had no doubt that he could handle himself well enough with any woman alive. He grinned to reveal uneven rows of brown teeth and tipped his hat to the gunslinger. "Why, shore, there's always room for a pretty gal at our table, right boys?" The others were not as certain as their large friend of their ability to handle themselves with someone as formidable as this woman appeared to be. But they silently agreed that there was safety in numbers, and did nothing to dissuade her from sitting down. She pulled a chair out and dropped into it.
"Deal," she said with a smile that did not do anything to remove the icy glint from her eyes.
Two hours later, the burly man threw his cards down in disgust and slowly rose, making sure to keep his hands away from his sidearm. "You've broken me, Miss. I'm done." Josie nodded with satisfaction as she pulled the last pot closer. No sooner had she gotten the notes and coins into her pocket than the skinny man sitting across from her narrowed his gaze and lowered his hand below the table. He'd be damned if a woman was going to walk away with his money. Before he could get his hand on his gun, the table suddenly flipped upwards at him, blocking his vision before slamming into him with enough force to send him backward, his chair splintering upon contact with the wooden floor. The third man in the group had similar thoughts and made a move for his gun. A roundhouse kick sent her heel into the side of his face and the fight was on. None of the patrons seemed to care what the fight was about as they began scrapping with each other. Rebecca worked her way closer and closer to the swinging doors, ducking once as part of a chair came flying at her. She tried to locate Josie in the mass pandemonium of flying bodies and smashing bottles. She found her only when two men tossed the dark clad woman down the length of the bar. With a gleeful yelp, Josie stood up on the bar and looked for the best place to jump back into the fray. She somersaulted off the bar and landed with her feet against the chest of a very surprised patron. After a couple of minutes the barkeep sighed, threw his towel down on the bar, and buried his face in his hands while shaking his head in disbelief. A few minutes later Josie appeared at Rebecca's side apparently no worse for wear, although her shirtsleeve was almost completely torn off. "Having fun?" she asked breathlessly before grabbing two men and knocking their heads together.
"Not as much as you seem to be having," Rebecca quipped as she jumped back to avoid another flying body.
"Nothing like a good fight to get my juices flowing," Josie replied with a feral smile still on her face as she looked around at the rolling battle. The sound of a shotgun being fired several times into the ceiling brought the bedlam to a standstill as everyone turned to see the source of the shots. The barkeep was standing there, gun in hand, covered with dust from the ceiling that he had shot. He looked up at the holes and sighed again.
"Every time a woman comes in, there's trouble," he muttered, his gaze leveled at the pair near the doorway. Josie reached in her pocket and pulled out several bills then put them on the bar before turning and leaving. The barkeep looked at the retreating form in surprise as he picked up the notes from the counter.
"What happened in there?" Rebecca asked as they headed up the street to the boarding house.
"The pip-squeak across from me didn't like losing to a woman," she said casually as she inspected the torn shirt. "Looks like you'll be doing some sewing tonight."
"I don't mind." Rebecca answered as she looked at the jagged tear. The shirt wasn't much to begin with; the elbows were worn almost through, the collar was frayed, and two buttons hung loosely by their threads. "Although the best thing to do would be to get you a new shirt." The look she received told her that was out of the question. "Or I could sew this one up," she said with a tone of defeat in her voice.
"Ten dollars?" The muscles in Josie's jaw tensed noticeably. "No way in tarnation am I going to pay that much!" She turned and stomped over to the door assuming that Rebecca would follow. The young woman had other ideas, however.
"Look, you have to admit that ten dollars is a lot to ask for such a..." she paused and looked around the parlor as if to pick just the right word. "...quaint little place. After all, the flophouse near the corral only charges four dollars a week for both of us."
"I include one meal a day with my price," the boarding house owner protested. "Eight dollars."
"Six and you throw in a bath for tonight," the young woman countered. Josie watched the debate carefully. Clearly Rebecca had the knowledge of words and the wit to haggle efficiently.
"Seven and the bath."
She started to say 'six', but the look on the proprietress face told her she would not go any lower. Rebecca knew that seven was more than fair for two people. She decided to quit before she talked them into sleeping in the corral with the horses. "All right, seven, but that had better include the bath."
"I said it did, didn't I," the woman said irritably. "Take the room at the end of the hall. Outhouse is in back."
Rebecca turned to Josie, a bit fearful that the outlaw would be mad at her for stepping in. Instead, the tall woman nodded and handed over the required funds. While it wasn't a smile or words of praise, the young woman still somehow understood the silent message that was conveyed.
Rebecca stood nervously at the side of the bed, looking at it as if there were sharp razors waiting for her. "What's the problem?" Josie said as she removed her clothes. "Haven't you ever slept with another woman before?"
"No! Why..." she stopped when she realized what the outlaw meant. Blushing hotly, she continued. "I mean, well, with my sister and occasionally a cousin, but...." She turned away from the now naked woman. "I guess I'm just a bit shy."
"So it would seem," Josie replied as she pulled a nightshirt over her head and down her body. Although designed for a full-grown man, it only came to mid thigh on her tall frame. "Are you going to sleep in your dress?"
"What? Oh no, of course not." She turned and walked behind the privacy screen, not seeing the way Josie rolled her eyes and smiled.
They each lay on an edge of the bed trying to stay as far apart as possible to leave room for the other. Always a deep sleeper, Rebecca was out quickly. Josie, however, was easily awakened by the slightest noise and found the young woman's light snoring to be distracting. Several times she adjusted her pillow to try to muffle the sounds, but with no success; her keen hearing wouldn't allow it. She lay awake as hour after hour passed. In the darkness of the night, the loner reflected back on her life. She saw visions of the crimes she had committed over the years, the looks of abject terror on the faces of her victims. Years of running, robbing, and hard drinking had blocked all those sights from her mind. As dawn settled across the land, she thought about how she had helped the town of Mason's Gulch and the sense of accomplishment she felt when she had stopped the band of thieves. It was time for her to make a decision, one that would forever alter her life one way or another. She had never consciously made a choice to be a criminal; it had happened by accident. For the first time in years she believed she actually had a choice between being good or evil. The full sun was visible before she gathered the courage to make the only choice that she could live with.
16: Careers
After a quick breakfast consisting of the remains of their rations, Josie wrote a note telling Rebecca to stay put and then left the boarding house. With purposeful strides she crossed the street and entered the jail.
"What can I do for you today, young fella?" the sheriff asked without looking up from his solitaire hand.
"I want to look at the wanted list," she said in a commanding tone. His head popped up at the unexpected gender.
"Uh...yes, of course." He reached over and retrieved a stack of wanted posters piled haphazardly on the corner of his desk. As he passed the pile to her, he realized that he was using his gun hand and was defenseless should this tall woman in black choose to send him to Saint Peter. To his relief, she simply took the pile of papers and sat down in a nearby chair, apparently uninterested in him. "Uh...somethin' you're looking for...uh...Miss?"
Josie smiled inwardly at the sheriff's fear of her. "Just seeing who's worth what," she replied, her eyes pouring over the wanted posters. She studied every name, what they were wanted for and where. She studied each likeness and tried to commit each characteristic to memory. She also removed the poster with her own likeness on it and slid it off the stack and into her pocket. Wouldn't do to have the sheriff spot her picture so soon after seeing her in the flesh. After several minutes she stood up and put the pile back on the corner of his desk. "I suggest you double check the locks on your cells. I have a feeling you'll be filling up soon," she said as she walked out the door, leaving a confused and nervous sheriff behind.
She reviewed the list of wanted men in her mind, discarding some as not being worth the bother and making mental notes on others. Horse thieves weren't on her list of those to turn in for justice. Although she had bought and paid for Phoenix, she herself had stolen a number of horses in her day. Deciding that no man should die for stealing an animal, she moved on in her mental list to concentrate on those she would look for. Men who raped or murdered women and children were highest on her list. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the familiar blonde woman exiting the doctor's office. Her long legs quickly ate up the distance between them.
"What are you doing here? Are you sick?" She began a visual inspection of Rebecca.
"No, I thought I could learn something about healing while you were off doing whatever it is that you were doing." It was then that Josie noticed the two small jars that were in the young woman's hands. "Oh, one is for cleaning a wound and the other is to help with pain."
"How much did those cost?" Josie asked warily, her mind already trying to calculate the amount.
"Nothing. He gave me these small bottles for helping him."
"Helping him?"
"A young boy came in with a broken arm. I told him a story while the doctor put a splint on. You should have seen him, Josie. His name is Timothy and he didn't cry, not one bit. He just sat there and listened to my story." The smile on her face and tone of pride in her voice were infectious and Josie reluctantly allowed a small smile. They walked back to the boarding house together, Rebecca recounting all that she had learned in the short time she was with the doctor and spoke of going back later to learn more. Josie didn't miss the hopeful 'see I'm trying to learn something so I can help' tone in the young woman's voice, although her face remained impassive.
After a quick supper that was barely edible, the pair retired to their room. The gunslinger sat on the floor, bracing her back against a wall while the young woman sat on the bed, using the headboard as a backrest. Josie went through her usual routine of cleaning and inspecting her weapons while Rebecca read by lamplight. Doc Jackson had loaned her a beginner's medical text and she was voraciously reading it, absorbing as many details as she could about different emergency treatments for wounds and illness. She skipped over rare or unusual injuries, concentrating mostly on things she perceived could happen on the road; snake bites, bullet wounds, scorpion stings, and more. Josie watched out of the corner of her eye as page after page was turned in Rebecca's quest for knowledge. 'I'll give you one thing, sprite; you have determination,' Josie thought to herself as she turned her attention back to the task at hand, that being the polishing of her guns.
When Rebecca rubbed her eyes for the third time in an hour, Josie set her rifle down and stood. "I think that's enough reading for one night." Taking the book from the reluctant girl, she set it down on the table and prepared for bed. Exhaustion got the best of the outlaw and she fell asleep soon after hitting the pillow.
17: Nightmares and Understandings
It was after two when Rebecca woke to her bedmate thrashing about in the throes of another vicious nightmare. Josie's arms flailed about, barely missing her face. Once again Rebecca took the outlaw in her arms and softly began to sing. Between verses she whispered that it was all a dream and that everything was all right. In the darkness of the night, she heard the older woman whimper softly before falling into a more dreamless state. She continued to sing and stroke Josie's hair gently until she was certain that she was past the nightmare. She would be wakened twice more during the night by the outlaw's demons and both times she would calm the woman back to restful sleep. Rebecca allowed herself to feel the mixed emotions of wishing that the nightmares didn't happen and the pleasure in being able to soothe Josie's troubled sleep as she finally succumbed again to the sandman.
Rebecca awoke to find herself alone in the room, the sun shining brightly. With a groan, she buried her head under the pillow to block out the light and tried for a few more minutes of sleep. The sound of the door opening caused her to poke her head up from under the pillow, look at the bright eyed and wide awake gunslinger, groan and put her head back down. "Five more minutes," she mumbled.
"Rebecca, it's after nine already. I've been up for at least three hours. Let's go." She set the two mugs of coffee down on the table. "I mean it."
"I'm up, I'm up," she grumbled before sitting up and stretching. She plodded over to the table and flopped down in the chair, muttering a thank you as she took her mug.
"You're not a morning person, are you?" Josie asked before taking a gulp of her coffee and grimacing. "Damn, this is strong. Miss Patricia must be trying to kill us so she can rent this room out to someone else."
Rebecca chuckled and took a sip from hers. "Ugh, I think you're right," she said as she forced the bitter brew down her throat. In the moment of silence, she decided to broach the subject of the nightmares. "Josie, do you remember the nightmares you had last night?" She watched the gunslinger stiffen noticeably. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I know that it helps sometimes to talk about them."
"There's nothing to talk about, Rebecca. I don't remember it," she lied. Even in the light of day, her mind replayed the visions that tormented her during the night.
"Well, if you wanted to talk about it, I just wanted you to know that you could...with me, I mean," she said before drinking the rest of her coffee and standing up. Josie nodded noncommittally. Rebecca stepped behind the privy screen and started to get dressed. "So where did you go?"
"I had to get some information. You know what you said about being a bounty hunter does make sense."
"Well yeah, you can get into places where regular bounty hunters couldn't. You know how these men think, how they act." She tried to tighten the laces on her corset, but this particular one tied in the back. "Josie, can you help me with this?" Seconds later she felt strong fingers pulling the laces into place and tying them off. "Thanks," she said as she turned around and looked up at the tall woman. "You know, I really do hate corsets."
"Me too, that's why I don't wear them," Josie said, allowing a small smile to come to her lips. "Now, I have a list of names of men that would bring in a fair amount of money with little effort." They went back to the table and sat down. Rebecca busied herself with brushing her shoulder length hair. Josie took another gulp of coffee and continued. "Cletus Wilson is a no good bully with a bounty of a hundred dollars on his head here in Tombstone. I went to the watering hole this morning and found out where he's hiding."
"How did...?" Rebecca smiled and shook her head. "After seeing you in action yesterday, I'm sure I don't want to know."
Josie flashed a smile full of teeth, quite proud of her intimidation tactics. "You probably don't, sprite. Now I want you to stay here or at the Doc's place until I return."
"Okay.", she nodded. "But promise you'll be careful?"
"Rebecca..."
"Sorry, but I do worry about you," she protested. "Someone has to."
"Well, I think you worry enough about me for the both of us. Now don't go anywhere until I return."