Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Introduction from JetBoy: It’s been too long since we’ve had a new book from the life of nineteenth-century Texas Ranger The Tequila Kid, that lesbian agent of the law who made the Wild West a lot wilder. Well, good people… Purple Les has produced the goods, so your wait is over. Do enjoy.

 

by Purple Les

It was my little sister Amy who saw the rider first. I was in the barn looking for eggs from our last three laying hens. We’d lost just about almost everything, like the rest of the ranchers and homesteaders who lived around us.

First the night riders killed our plowing ox and our milk cow. They killed our two horses, then trampled our crops. We’d only just planted, Pa fought as best he could to stop them, but they gunned him down. 

My heart still ached from missing Pa. Losing our horses busted me up almost as bad.

So there I was, looking for eggs in our big barn that was mostly empty. We had lots of hay left cause we didn’t have any animals left to feed it to.

My little sister Amy was supposed to be helping me look for eggs. But she wandered off like she always did. I didn’t care. I liked being alone sometimes so I didn’t have to keep pretending to be brave. Being a few years older than Amy, I tried to look after her as best I could. 

I found an egg for the basket, but almost dropped it cause my fingers were so cold.

Anyway, I knew where Amy was. She’d sit on the gate and play her harmonica. I could hear her cause the barn door was open. Pa gave the harmonica to her one day after he went to town, and she learned to play it right quick. 

She was good at it too. She was just seven going on eight, but she could play Swanee River, Hark the Harold Angels Sing, and Joy To The World. She’d been playing those last two a lot cause Christmas was coming soon.

Well I heard her stop right in the middle of playing. She come running in to the barn yelling out, ‘Cindy! There’s a rider coming!’

I told her to get Ma, then I ran to the corral fence near the gate. Ma always told us to keep an eye out for riders, specially ones coming from the west. That’s the direction Mr Fletcher’s place was from ours. His place had been burnt down just last week. We could see the fire from our place even though he lived more than a mile away. Ma ran over there but by the time she got there it was all gone.

She’d found Mr Fletcher outside shot dead. Ma and some other neighbors found his wife and kids inside burned up in the rubble afterwards. That’s when she told us to watch out for riders. We were mighty sorry to have lost the Fletchers. They were good people to have for neighbors.

My heart was pounding hard when I watched this rider getting close with the dark gray sky behind. Ma came up next to me. She had the Winchester with her and it was already cocked. I saw Amy standing by the doorway to the house. Ma told me ‘Get over there with your sister,’ but by then the rider was too close and I was scared to move. I stood behind Ma, looking around her so I could see.

It was one rider on a nice looking Appaloosa horse. I thought it was a young man at first. But as they drew close riding slow I could see it was a woman. Even with the heavy sheepskin coat on you could tell.

Ma held the rifle tight and had it half raised up to show she meant business. The woman stopped near the gate, looked at Ma and tipped the brim of her hat. ‘My apologies for riding up on your property, ma’am.’ She sat calm on her horse with one hand holding the reins and the other hand on the saddle horn. The rider saw me peeking out from behind Ma and smiled. 

I could see her good now. She wore dungarees tucked in to beat up looking boots. She had on a Stetson hat, and under the brim was the bluest looking eyes I ever did see. Like looking at the sky on a warm spring day they was so blue.

On her chin she had these blue lines, like a tattoo that I’d seen one time on an Indian that came in to town once. She didn’t look like no Indian though, except for them tattoos.

Ma saw her looking at me and she said, ‘You get in the house now, Cindy.’ I started walking to the house backwards and slow cause I wanted to see what was going to happen. The rider closed and opened her eyes real slow, still looking at me.

Something in her face seemed to say ‘Do what your Ma says, but there’s no need to be afraid of me.’

The rider unbuttoned her coat, and I could see she had a six shooter on each hip. Ma held the rifle up higher and yelled ‘Cindy, get in the house like I said! You too, Amy!’ I’ll never figure how Ma always knows just what me and Amy are doing without even looking at us.

Me and Amy did as Ma told us to, but we went straight to the window to watch. We saw Ma and the rider having a talk, but couldn’t hear none of it. 

***

The rider dug through her vest pockets and, finding what she wanted, held up a tarnished badge.

The woman holding the rifle squinted at it, then frowned. “You expect me to believe you’re a Texas Ranger?”

The rider kept a blank face and answered, “Reckon not, ma’am.” Fumbling around in her pockets again, she produced an old grimy envelope. Holding it out she asked, “Do you read?”

The woman with the rifle cautiously took the envelope, opened it and took out a battered piece of paper. She read it, occasionally glancing up at the rider. Nodding to herself, she handed the envelope and paper back to the rider. “So you’re The Tequila Kid.”

“Yes’m,” The Kid replied.

Releasing the hammer on the rifle, the woman lowered the barrel and said, “Reckon you can climb down and water your horse if you’re of a mind to.”

“Much obliged, ma’am,” The Kid said. She slowly dismounted, then opened the gate, leading her horse through before closing it behind. Bringing the horse to the trough, The Kid used the heel of her boot to break through the crust of ice that had formed atop the water. The horse moved in to take a long drink.

Turning back to the woman, The Kid said, “Y’see, ma’am, I stopped first to the Fletcher place and found it burnt down, with a line of graves nearby. You appear to be their closest neighbor.” She reached for her canteen, detaching it from the saddle, then approached the trough.

“No need to get water from there,” the woman said. “It’ll do for your horse, but there’s a pump in the house.”

“That’s right kind of you, ma’am. So… did you know the Fletchers well?“

The woman’s mouth tightened. “Well enough to know Bob Fletcher sent a letter to Austin asking the Rangers for help. That was six months ago. No one knew for sure if it ever got there,” the woman with the rifle said, a bitterness in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” The Kid said softly. “Truth be told, they sent a Ranger two months ago. He weren’t never heard from again. I’m here to find out what happened to him, then do what I can to get this mess cleaned up.”

The woman with the rifle looked The Kid up and down, then shook her head. “Well, you look like you’d live up to all the stories I’ve heard about you, ‘cept you look mighty young for ‘em all to be true. I reckon it ain’t your own fault that you’ve come when it’s too late.”

The Kid’s eyes were focused on a grave marker across the way, near an oak tree. “Anything you can tell me about all this will maybe keep it from being too late for a lot of other folks, ma’am.”

The woman with the rifle followed The Kid’s gaze. “That’s my husband’s grave. Been dead ‘bout five months now. McCuller sent a gunman here.”

“That’d be Ben McCuller, ma’am? The one Fletcher wrote about to the Rangers?”

The woman looked at The Kid with weary eyes, but her voice was sharp. “Yes, that’s right. And my name ain’t ‘ma’am.’ You can call me Sarah.”

“Yes, ma…” The Kid paused, cleared her throat and continued. “Pleased to meet you, Sarah.”

Sarah looked around and said, “If you care to take your horse to the barn, there’s more hay than we know what to do with. Then come to the house and we’ll have us a talk.”

“Much obliged,” The Kid murmured as she led Button to the barn, glancing up at the dark sky.

In the barn, The Kid climbed a ladder into the loft and threw some hay down to the floor. Coming back down, she took off her horse’s bridle and loosened the saddle cinch. “You eat up and rest a spell, Button. Somethin’ tells me we still got a lot of ridin’ to do.”

The Kid joined Sarah, who was still standing in the yard, lost in thought and looking westward. Without a word, Sarah turned away and made her way toward the house, The Kid close behind.

Taking off her hat, The Kid glanced around. The inside didn’t feel very different from the outside, except it was darker and there was no wind blowing. It was very much like what she’d seen at the house she’d stopped at before seeking out the charred ruins of Bob Fletcher’s home. A handful of embers glowed in the fireplace, but the house was stone cold. There was a good quality stove in the kitchen area, along with a hand pump and sink. She saw there were two bedrooms, one for the girls, one for Sarah.

This place must have been really nice here before those damn raiders came. The Kid told herself. She noticed that the good china was stacked on the floor. Had to use the server for firewood, I’ll wager. The house was clean and well kept, but what The Kid noticed most was the emptiness of poverty.

She tried not to dwell on the thin, hollow-cheeked faces of Sarah and her two girls. Gettin’ starved out, just like the other family I met.

Placing the Winchester in its rack over the hearth, Sarah said, “These are my daughters Cindy and Amy. Girls, this is the Tequila Kid. She’s with the Texas Rangers, here trying to help us.”

The girls’ eyes widened. It seemed that they too had heard tales of The Kid’s adventures.

“You have a beautiful horse,” the eldest daughter said, speaking so softly she could scarcely be heard.

Breaking into a smile, The Kid said, “Her name’s Button. If you girls want to go to the barn and talk to her and pet her, that would be fine with me. Me and your ma are just gonna jaw a little bit.”

Cindy went from bashful to thrilled in an instant. “Can we, Ma?”

“It’s may we, and yes, you may,” Sarah said. “Just don’t touch The Kid’s gear or try to ride her mount, you hear me?”

“Yes, Ma,” both girls cried as they rushed out the door, slamming it shut behind them.

“Have a seat,” Sarah said as she pulled a chair out for herself at the table, gathering the man’s coat she wore tightly around herself. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything. Our larder’s pretty much bare.”

Seating herself, The Kid hesitantly spoke. “I stopped at a ranch before I seen what was left of the Fletcher place. The Vale family, it was. They told me some about what’s happened ‘round here. I reckon that letter Bob Fletcher sent says it all. If there’s anything you could tell, it might be of help. Like what happened here, if you’re up to it.”

Sarah seemed to be looking somewhere far away when she began to speak. “Ever hear of Eric Jax, Kid?”

The Kid slowly nodded. “I sure have. Heard tell he used to be the fastest gun in these parts. Not a killer, though, ‘cept in self-defense. He’s not been seen for a long spell, and no one seems to know what happened to him. He’s the one that gunned your husband down? That don’t square with what they tell of the man.”

A single tear rolled down Sarah’s cheek as she answered, “Eric Jax was my husband.”

The Kid raised an eyebrow, and Sarah continued. “I met Eric about eleven years ago. I was about your age, I reckon. Aside from havin’ to contend with young blowhards gunnin’ for him cause he was so quick on the draw, he was a good, peaceful man. I didn’t know at first about him being a shootist. And when he told me, it didn’t matter any more. He was fun and I liked him, and when I found out I was carrying his child he couldn’t of been happier.

“He put his guns away once we got married, then changed his last name to Miller. We left Kansas and settled here. He built a nice ranch for us. We was happy and doin’ well, just like the others who come along later.

“Ben McCuller was doing good too. He had the biggest spread in these parts. But he wanted more. Hell, he wanted it all. He started by buying off the sheriff. Lucas Clay, that’s his name, crooked as a rattlesnake’s trail. Don’t count on him to give you a helpin’ hand.

“No one knew at first why the ranchers closest to McCuller sold out and moved on. But little by little, he became more bold about takin’ over the other ranches and farms. Oh, he’d offer to buy at first, but not anything close to what the property was worth. Naturally, folks refused to sell.

“That was when he started havin’ night raids. Killed off our livestock, trampled the crops. The sheriff claims it’s all the doin’ of outlaws, and nothin’ at all to do with McCuller.” She gave a heavy sigh. “He means to starve us out. Won’t even let the town folk sell us supplies.” Sarah was staring at the floor, “We can’t afford none anyhow.”

She fell silent for a moment, then added, “Somehow, McCuller found out about the letter Fletcher sent, askin’ for help. Well, you see where we’re at now.”

“I understand Fletcher said in his letter that he had some sort of evidence. Did he tell you what or where it was?” The Kid asked.

“Not for sure. Rumor was, Fletcher had land deeds that proved some sort of crooked doings between McCuller, Sheriff Clay and the banker. Well, if they were in Bob’s house, they’re ashes now. So all that’s left is for McCuller to run the rest of us off. Makes it seem legal-like, but it ain’t. Not that it matters. The sheriff is no more’n an errand boy, damn his hide.”

The Kid shook her head, brooding. After a moment, she spoke again “Any idea who McCuller hired to shoot your husband?”

Sarah leveled her brown eyes at The Kid. “Ever heard of Kid Coley?”

The Tequila Kid gave a short nod, her jaw tightening slightly. “I have.”

“McCuller hired him to do the killing.” Sarah gripped the table’s edge with one hand, her knuckles white. “He came here. Goaded Eric into putting his gun on. Eric hadn’t worn a gun since we married. Coley shot my man stone dead, then had the gall to take the gold watch I’d gived him for our anniversary.”

“How’d Coley get away with it?”

“That’s the worst part,” Sarah muttered, a tremor in her voice. “Me and the girls had to admit that Eric drew his gun first. But it weren’t that way, even if it was true! Kid Coley claimed he was only…”

Placing her hand on Sarah’s, The Kid said, “I understand. Coley gets himself hired by a greedy scum like McCuller, then does the murder making it seem like self-defense. And when the sheriff’s in on it… well, let’s just say that justice ain’t served.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then The Kid slowly stood. “Reckon I best move on now.”

As they stepped outside Sarah looked at the sky and said, “You’re welcome to bunk down with us tonight. We all sleep in my bed to stay warm, so the girls’ room is yours, if you like.”

The Kid studied the sky. “Much obliged. But I got a lot to get done. If I set out now, I’ll have a chance of gettin’ to town before the rain.”

Sarah walked with The Kid to the barn, where they found the girls petting Button’s nose and talking to her.

“She’s the finest horse I ever did see,” Cindy said with Amy quickly agreeing.

“Now don’t be giving Button a swelled head, girls,” The Kid said as she put the bridle back on and tightened the saddle cinch. “She thinks she’s in charge of things as it is.”

The children laughed at that, and Button raised her head up and down as if nodding ‘yes’, she was the brains of the two. The Kid brought Button to the trough for one last drink, and Amy ran into the house. Sarah and Cindy went back to the barn to look for more eggs, and Amy came out as The Kid was about to mount up.

“Please take this, Kid,” Amy said, extending her hands. The girl held a green apple and an egg. “The egg’s hard-boiled… it’s for you. The apple’s for Button,” Amy explained.

The Kid squatted down and said, “Much obliged.” Taking the gifts from Amy’s hands, she stuffed them in her coat pockets. Turning away, she opened her saddle bag.

As The Kid dug through the bag’s contents she said, “I do love me a hard-boiled egg. And Button loves apples. She ain’t had one in a long while. So let me give you a little somethin’ in return. I’ll be gettin’ fresh grub in town, so I’d be grateful if you’d give this stuff to your Ma for me.”

The Kid loaded Amy’s arms up with her supplies. “Take this in the house now, ‘fore your Ma comes out of the barn. She’d be too proud to take it from me, I reckon.”

With that, she walked Button out through the open gate, closed it behind, then mounted up and rode off.

***

I almost dropped the egg basket when me and Ma came back in the house. Ma’s mouth hung open as she looked at the table. It looked like a feast to me. There was dried beans, and beans in a can. There was bacon and flour and coffee and salt.

Amy said to us she’d give The Kid an egg and apple and The Kid give us this food in return. Me and Amy was happy as could be. I don’t know why, but Ma sat down looking at it and cried.

***

The Tequila Kid might have beaten the rain if she’d gone straight to town. Instead she’d headed back to the Fletcher ranch to poke around the burnt remains of the house. She looked about, trying to picture the house as it had been, occasionally poking through the rubble.

Button snorted as the first cold hard drops of rain fell. “Just a little longer, girl,” The Kid called.

Upon finding the ruins of the fireplace and chimney, The Kid knelt down to feel her way around the hearth, which remained intact. Moving forward, she began to explore the rear of the chimney.

One of the large adobe bricks had a slight depression at each end. “I’ll be damned,” she whispered, a grin appearing on her face. Slipping her index finger into these hollows, she gave a hard tug… and the brick emerged about half an inch. Another three tugs and it pulled free.

Reaching inside the rectangular opening, The Kid withdrew a padlocked steel box. “Son of a bitch,” she murmured. “Just the same way Thumper Jones done it.”

She picked up a stone and raised it, breaking the padlock with one sharp blow. Nestled inside was a small stack of documents. These The Kid tucked into her vest. Taking a scrap of paper from her pocket, she put a stub of pencil to it, scratching out a few quick lines. She put that piece of paper in the box and closed the lid, then used the stone to hammer the box until it was jammed shut. Now it would have to be broken before anyone could get inside. Satisfied with her work, The Kid slid the box back into its cubbyhole before carefully replacing the brick.

The rain was falling steadily, so The Kid took her yellow slicker off from around the bed roll and put it on. She hoisted herself into the saddle and got Button going at a fast walk toward the town. From a ridge road on the hill, she glanced down at Sarah’s place in the distance as they went past.

As the rain came down harder and colder, The Kid began to wish she’d holed up there after all. At least they’ll have something hot in their bellies tonight. Cheered by that thought, The Kid headed Button toward the town of Helena.

***

Me and Ma broke up one of the rails from the corral fence and used it for firewood. It’s not like we needed it any more. Ma made a small fire and we heated up the can of beans. We all shared that, and it sure was a fine meal.

While we watched the small fire burn down, Ma said she’d save the rest of the wood for morning to use in the stove. She got me hungry all over again saying how she’d fix us a real breakfast. Said she’d make bacon and eggs and biscuits and coffee.

Then we did what we’d been doing lately. We took off our coats and laid ‘em over Ma’s bed for extra cover. Then we took off our boots and got under the covers. Ma blew the light out and we lay together in our clothes. Ma would tell us stories and wait for us to fall asleep.

I was in the middle between Amy and Ma. I wasn’t asleep yet, just trying to get there. I felt Ma move around to get comfortable and her hand was resting on my back side.

It made me think back to last summer. Us girls had been swimming down at Turkey Creek. Me and Amy and the Fletcher girls and a few others. We always swam bare. No one minded, long as no boys were around.

But this one time Maude Fletcher who’d just turned twelve took me round the bend and asked if I’d let her kiss me. I didn’t know nothin’ about kissing, but she sure taught me how. Well, we put our lips together for a second and giggled, then we did it for longer. It was a nice special secret for us. 

Maude asked me to lay down with her in the grass, and we kissed some more. Then she began kissing me different, sliding her tongue in my mouth. I did it to her the same way, and she rolled on to her back and pulled me on top of her.

Then Maude surprised me by grabbing my backside and hugging me to her till our girl parts were rubbing together. I’d never felt anything so nice before, and I guess we did that for a long spell until it was so good we had to stop. Maude told me she did it with her sister Tilly and asked me if I ever tried anything like that with Amy. I told her I hadn’t but she sure had me thinking about it. I always did like seeing my sister naked in the wash tub or when we got ready for bed and such. It made me wonder if Amy would let me kiss her that special way.

Me and Maude felt mighty relaxed now. We lay on our bellies holding hands and smiling at each other. That was when Amy found us. She was with Maude’s little sister Tilly, who was my age. Like us, they was naked.

Tilly said right away that me and Maude had been up to some kind of devilment, and we ought to be spanked for it. So they set about lightly paddling our bare backsides with their hands and laughing, thinking it was great sport. Well, me and Maude both jumped, grabbed our sisters and started doing that to them. They weren’t so high and mighty then! Soon they were begging us to stop, so we called a truce. 

By then we were all flushed and giggly. Tilly told Amy that she figured me and Maude had been kissing. Amy didn’t believe her, but Maude told her it was true. Then Tilly asked Amy if she wanted to know what it felt like, getting kissed. Amy thought about it and said she wouldn’t mind. 

So me and Maude watched as Tilly showed my little sister how to kiss with her tongues, just like Maude had done for me. They were pushing themselves together while they kissed, and Tilly was touching Amy’s bottom. I reckoned by the look on their faces that they was feeling the same things me and Maude did. 

After that we sat together in the sun not saying much, kissing each other every now and then. Sometimes Maude and Tilly kissed, which got me thinking about doing that with Amy. I wondered again if she would let me. I also thought about what it would be like to lie on her with our girl parts touching, the way I did it with Maude, and asked myself if that was bad for us to do. I decided it couldn’t be wrong if we love each other. 

While I was having those thoughts, little Mindy Cooper came round and said everyone else had headed home. She asked what we’d been doing, but Maude told her we’d just been talking.

After that, me and Amy went home too. We didn’t say much, but we did hold hands most of the way. 

After that time, me and Amy would kiss when ever we were alone together, mostly at night and in bed. We also liked to lift up our nightgowns to look at each other with nothing on. Sometimes I’d touch her girl parts to get that nice feeling, and she’d touch me the same way. If we got really excited, we’d take our nightgowns all the way off and take turns lying on top of each other with our bodies rubbing together. 

We hadn’t done that for a spell, though. Not since it got so cold that the three of us had to sleep in Ma’s bed so as to keep warm. Snuggling with Ma was real nice, but I missed the things me and Amy did.  

All those thoughts were going through my head as I lay in bed with Ma’s hand resting on my backside. I was wearing all my clothes, but it still felt good to have her touch me that way, even if she weren’t doing it on purpose. 

Then I started thinking about that summer day, how good it had been. It made me all of sudden sad that Maude and Tilly and all the rest of their family was gone forever. I tried not to cry, but I couldn’t help it.

Ma woke up. She held me and asked what was wrong. I told her I was scared we’d be burned alive like the Fletcher family. Ma held me tight and told me not to worry none, that we’d be okay. Said that Tequila Kid would put things right. But she didn’t sound like she much believed it herself. I wanted to believe, but I’d never heard tell of a girl Texas Ranger before. 

She did have a kind heart, that Tequila Kid. Something else I noticed, how she looked at me the same as Maude did that time at the creek. Would she want to kiss me that special way? 

It took me a long time to fall asleep, but at last I did.

***

The rain blew sideways and directly into the faces of The Tequila Kid and Button, so cold it felt like tiny daggers stinging The Kid’s face and eyes. Squinting into the storm, The Kid made out dark shapes ahead, as well as dots of light. Reckon I found Helena, she told herself.

She slowly advanced into the town. A torrent of water was running through the street, enough to reach over Button’s ankles as the horse trudged through the thick, icy mud, her nostrils sending clouds of mist into the night air.

Finding the livery stable at last The Kid dismounted, but her left boot, the one with the hole in the bottom,  went right into a deep puddle. “Shit,” she muttered, then shouldered the small inner door open.

An wizened old man sat near a lantern, glancing up from a checkerboard.

“Howdy,” The Kid said. “Got room for a horse?”

With a gap-toothed grin, the man stood up, saying, “Barely.” He sauntered over to throw open the big door. The Kid led Button in and the old man closed the door with a hard shove. Inside, it was warm and dry inside and the wind and rain could barely be heard.

“Well, now, that is one fine lookin’ horse,” the man said. “The name’s Abner Ancien, an’ I runs this stable. It’s a dollar a day, includin’ feed and water.” He gave a snort of laughter. “Good timin’ on your part. I ain’t got but one stall left. This weather has ever’one comin’ in off the trail.”

“Much obliged,” The Kid said as she accompanied Abner to the stall. Withdrawing two dollar coins from her pocket, she dropped them in Abner’s palm. “I’d like to make sure I got me a place for another night if I need it, Mr Ancien.”

“Just call me Abner. We ain’t formal round here.” The old man watched as The Kid took her gear off the horse and hung it on the side of the stall.

The Kid shrugged out of her slicker and sheepskin coat, then draped them over the stall wall to dry. “Nice and warm in here. Feels mighty good after ridin’ through that damn downpour.” She took a brush and curry comb from her saddle bags.

As The Kid groomed Button, Abner said, “Well, all these horses put off a lot of heat. I keeps the walls well mended, pluggin’ up the chinks if I find any. Means it’s cool when it’s hot and warm when it’s cold.”

“There any place to stay in this town, Abner?”

“Well, there’s a few,” Abner said as he scratched his chin. “But they’s more full up than my stable. I heard tell folks are sleepin’ three to a bed, ever’thin’s so full up.”

“Mind if sleep here in the stall?” The Kid asked.

Abner looked The Kid over and said, “Naw. Naw, I couldn’t let a lady sleep in a stall. If you’d like, though, you can stay up in the hayloft. There’s a rope ladder you can pull up behind. Be real private. I’ve offered it to folks before, but I guess no one wants to smell horse shit where they sleep.”

The Kid laughed. “Hell, I’d prefer the smell of horse shit over the stink of too many people close together.”

“True enough,” Abner said. The Kid was rubbing Button’s legs up and down to get them warmed back up. Once she’d finished, Abner offered her a horse blanket which The Kid draped over Button.

Abner gestured toward the checkerboard. “Play a game?”

“Sure,” The Kid answered.

“I got to warn you, I’m the best at checkers in town. Never been beat,” Abner said, seating himself at the board.

Pulling up an old crate, The Kid took a seat on the other side. Spying a folded newspaper lying nearby, she pointed at it. “You done with that paper?”

“Well, I was gonna put it out in the privy,” Abner replied. “But you can read it first if you’re of a mind to. I got yesterday’s paper, if you’re lookin’ to get the latest news.”

“Naw, this one will do me just fine.”

Abner looked on as Kid ripped the front page off and folded it into a small square. Removing her boot, she stuffed the folded paper into her boot, centering it over the hole. Satisfied with her handiwork, The Kid took off the other boot, then went to her saddle bag for a pair of dry socks. She paused to drape the wet socks over the rail, then sat back down on the crate to put her socks and boots back on.

“Go see Ed Sharp if you’re lookin’ to get that boot fixed for real. Best cobbler in Helena,” said Abner. He reached underneath his chair and produced an earthenware jug. He uncorked it, then took a deep swig of its contents.

“Applejack,” he announced, passing the jug over to The Kid. “Warms up your innards right nice.”

The Kid took a long slug as Abner pushed a checker on the board.

“You’re a tight lipped man, Abner,” The Kid said, making a move of her own.

Studying the board, Abner said, “I found out a long time ago not to ask too many questions.” He moved a piece. “If someone wants to tell me something about themselves, fine and dandy. But I don’t poke my nose in nowhere. Many a man’s dug his own grave by bein’ a mite too curious at the wrong time.” He watched The Kid make a move. “Sure you want to move there?”

“Yep,” The Kid answered. Abner jumped her checker and took it off the board with a pleased smile.

Placing one finger on a checker, The Kid said, “Couple months back, a tall dark-haired man wearin’ buckskins and a hat that was white a long time ago may have come through, ridin’ a black stallion. Recall anyone fittin’ that description?” She slid the checker forward.

“Sure you want to move there?” Abner asked. He watched The Kid nod yes, then he jumped her man. “I recall that feller, sure. Told me he was a Texas Ranger, name of Clark Hansen. Fine looking horse he had, a real fine animal. I gived him directions out to the McCuller place.”

“Then what?” The Kid asked, moving a piece.

“You sure ’bout that move?” Abner asked. The Kid nodded, then Abner jumped it and took it off the board. “Then nothin’. Never saw hair nor hide of him after that. Did notice the horse a few times, though. Cy Warren was ridin’ him.”

“Who’s he?” The Kid asked as Abner made his move.

“Ben McCuller’s new foreman, and a mighty bad sort. McCuller fired his real workin’ crew a spell ago and hired on a gang of toughs to replace ‘em.”

A few moves later, The Kid got a piece to the other end of the board. “King me.”

Abner crowned the checker, then made a move. The game continued in silence for a couple of minutes. “What about the sheriff here?” The Kid asked. “Wouldn’t he have somethin’ to say about a Texas Ranger disappearin’ into thin air… and another man ridin’ his horse?”

The old man’s eyes lit up. “Well, now…” he began, but was interrupted by the door opening and closing again. Looking up, he dropped his checker, startled. “Why, evenin’, Sheriff Clay.” Quickly reaching down for the checker, he put it back on the board, then made his move.

“Abner, you ugly old coot… who or what is this?” Sheriff Clay asked the old man while staring at The Kid.

The sheriff was about six foot tall, his hefty frame covered by a yellow rain slicker. He wore black boots with silver spurs and a soaked black Stetson hat. His face was clean shaven, except for waxed handlebar mustache, also black. His brown eyes had a cruel glint to them.

“Just a traveler come out of the rain, Sheriff,” Abner hastily answered.

The old man looked back at the board to see The Kid move her king piece, jumping each of Abner’s men from one side to the other and back again, clearing the board.

Abner stared, dumbfounded. “Well, I’ll be switched!” He looked up at The Kid. “Where in tarnation did you learn how to play that good?”

“Oh, I learnt it from a French woman who took me in for a spell,” The Kid said as she stood up.

Abner gave a shaky laugh, still studying the board as he scratched his head. “If that don’t beat all!” He got to his feet. “Well, you won fair and square.” He extended a hand, and they shook. Pointing at the board, he added, “How ‘bout a rematch?”

“Shut the hell up, Abner,” Sheriff Clay growled. He took a step toward The Kid. “I don’t allow no one to wear guns in my town, man or woman. Take ’em off.”

The Kid turned to the man, her eyes half closed and took out her badge. “I’m the Tequila Kid, a special agent for the Texas Rangers. Let’s not talk shop here. Can we go to your office?”

The sheriff spit on the floor, glanced sourly at Abner, then muttered, “All right, then. Come with me.”

The Kid put on her coat and slicker, then followed Clay to the door. She’d never bothered to take her wet hat off. Abner scratched his chin, shaking his head as he watched them step out into the rain.

Soon to come: Chapter Two!