#curly bill and Ringo

[curlysgirl0202]

WIP:

FROM THE WEST TO THE FUTURE:

The Cowboys Journey Through Time

JOHNNY RINGO AND CURLY BILL CAUGHT IN A 21ST CENTURY TIME WARP.

While outrunning a group of renegade Indians, a blinding light stabs the eyes of Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo and when the dust finally settles into reality, they come to understand they've been pushed through a time warp and become stuck in the present time. They return to Tombstone to see the town unchanged. Except that everyone is half naked (even the women) and unbelievably clean. Will they find a way back to 1881? Will they fall in love? What happens when they meet up with the other Cowboys stuck in our time? How do they find each other and what will their adventures be like?

*I'll be updating at least once a day*

"Ride, Juanito! Comanches!"

A group of renegade Comanches follow the two cowboys at full speed while Curly and Ringo rise faster than they ever have before. An arrow wizzes by Ringo's head, barely missing him and Curly hears the booming voice of the natives behind him.

Suddenly, they see a light so intense, they both cover their eyes while continuing to outrun the Indians hellbent on taking down the cowboys.

Ringo and Curly stop riding, the desert blooms look unfamiliar and strange and a few houses occupy the area.

"What the hell? Where's the desert? There weren't no houses here before!" Curly shakes his head.

Ringo feels a cold chill and looks around. Nothing looks the same. A few people move about the houses and from a distance, the boys can't tell if they're injuns or Mexicans or Union soldiers. They both back up their horses, waiting for the odd looking people to approach them and tell them they're moving on Yankee land. But no one approaches them. Curly noticed there were no horses. Not a single one. Not an animal in sight!

They ride a few more moments, trotting while scanning the desert for something familiar other than the boulders and cactus. A soft breeze whirls around them and they can hear birds singing in the Palo Verde trees, dogs barking in the distance and seeing a row of telephone poles they would swear on the Bible were not there before! The aroma fills their nostrils and the fragrant wild flowers smell delightfully different. Their horses begin grazing on some of the plush green grass that pops up in small pockets on the desert floor. The cowboys continue looking around, hoping to see someone or something familiar. But everything, even the breeze feels very different.

The whirring of a machine echoes in the distance and the two men quickly look at each other, wondering what the hell that could be. They see a man walk around one of the few houses. He wipes his head with a cloth. Then he proceeds to take a green colored hose like object and to the shock of Curly and Ringo, water flows from it. Their wide eyes lock on the scene before them and they ride a little closer. The man waves and the Cowboys wave back. Since the man looks innocent enough, the boys feel they may be able to get some information about where the hell they are.

"Where the hell are the damn Comanches?" Curly bellows. Them boys was right on us! There ain't nothin here they can hide behind! Where the hell are we, Johnny?"

Ringo continues pondering while staring with blank eyes at the scene before him. "There's no Comanches anywhere. And what was that light?"

Ringo's heart drops.

Are we trapped in hell? Did we just die?

"Who are those people?" Curly inquires, squinting his eyes from the sharp sun. Ringo shakes his head slowly. He turns his horse and begins to trot towards one of the small houses and there were only four houses that the two rustlers could see. A small child comes out of one the houses and begins running around the property.

"I don't remember any kids bein' at these camps! Hell, they ain't even dressed like injuns!"

"I don't think they're injuns, Curly. I don't even see a gun in any of them! No horses, no cows, no chickens. Where the hell are we, damnit?" Ringo brays.

"So, they ain't carrying firearms and they're living out here?"

Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo continue to watch what seems like a pleasant scene. They didn't hear the battle cries of Comanches or hear and firearms going off. They continued scoping out the area, watching from all sides. A dirt path winds towards where the houses sit about fifty yards away. Boulders frame the area and trees stand around the path.

Suddenly, two little girls approach the rustlers. Dressed in unrecognizable attire and wearing shoes that sparkle with stones.

"Who are you? Can we pet your horse?" One of the girls asks.

"Please? Our daddy said it was ok!"

"Where's your daddy?" Curly asks. "He lets you talk to strangers before he does? He must have a lotta trust in this wild country!"

The girls look at each other and giggle. "Can we pet your horse?"

"Well," Ringo begins. "Do you live at this camp? Comanches giving you trouble?"

"What are coman cheesers?" One of the girls asks. The two continue smiling.

"You see any injuns out here? Did you see some riding around here just now? There was a whole bunch of em! Did you see where they went?"

The girls look at each other and shake their heads slowly. They appear so clean and sparkling barrettes nest in their hair. Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo couldn't believe how clean the girls were.

The girls run away, holding hands and laughing. Curly and Ringo look at each other.

The men ride slowly towards one of the houses. The road changes and it's a black street instead of dirt. A man without a hat on, wearing jeans, sandals and a dress shirt without a tie comes towards them from the house. The two little girls come out from behind the house and begin running back to Curly and Ringo who still stand with confusion running through their minds. Like the little girls, he was remarkably clean.

"Hi there, fellas!" The man says. "My daughter said something about warning us about comb cheese? I apologize, they may have said it wrong." He pats his daughters on the head. One of them looks up at her father. Her blond hair up in braids and like her sister, wasn't wearing a dress. In fact, they seemed to be in their bloomers! Tight shirts with gemstones on them and butterflies and the pants they wore were above the knees. Ringo wondered how the father would let his cute daughters dress like that with wild Indians in the area. But come to think of it, there wasn't an Indian in sight.

"Have you seen any Comanches anywhere?" Curly Bill asks, looking around."

The man, who stands just under six feet starts chuckling. He puts his hands on his waist and shakes his head. "Not that I've seen. Just a few of us live here now. Where are you boys from?" The man looks inquisitively. Curly and Ringo look at each other.

"Tombstone."

"Is there a wild west show?" He wonders. "I heard it was cancelled!"

"Wild West show?" Ringo ask.

"Yeah. That's why you're dressed like that? I have to say those costumes look very authentic! Love the spurs and six shooters too. Those aren't real bullets are they?" The man asks, walking in between the horses.

Our costumes?

Ringo thinks to himself. His heart pounding and his mind racing, he finds himself at a loss for words and his confusion grows with each passing moment. Everything seems so.... Peaceful.

"Well, we don't fire these pistols at anyone we ain't got no beef with," Curly responds, his horse backing up a bit.

The man starts laughing again. "You even sound like you're from the wild west!" The man slaps his knee. This causes the two rustlers to grow increasingly uneasy. Things seem peaceful, but odd. The man seems to keep talking about them in the past tense.

"We ain't green horns," Curly remarks. "We're seasoned cowpokes and we drive cows from Arizona to Mexico or Colorado to Texas. I don't see no animals here," Curly mentions.

"Oh, I see!" The man answers. "I guess I got confused. Well! Do you ever entertain like, oh who was that guy," the stranger snaps his fingers, trying to think of the name. "Buffalo Bill!"

Ringo, trying not to sound completely aloof nods and answers, "sometimes we do pistol tricks or teach people how to rope."

"Cowboys and entertainers! I love how you talk. You do lots of shows?"

"Sure," Ringo responds.

"Can I pet your horse?" One of the girls asks. She moves closer to the boys. Her soft brown hair is pulled into two ponytails and her big brown eyes stir the hearts of the two rustlers.

"Ok," Ringo answers. Confusion on his once unreadable poker face. He and Curly keep looking at each other and then all around, growing increasingly uneasy.

"Who else lives around here?" Curly Bill asks.

"Well, I just bought this piece about three years ago. We moved from Chicago after my wife passed. Just a few homes here. Mine and three others. It's not so bad. Definitely a change of scenery from Chicago. Hotter! Well, it's nice to see other people out here!"

"Yeah, our mom got sick and she died," the girl with the brown hair mentions. "i like your horse!"

Ringo smiles. The girl with the blonde hair starts petting Curly's horse and Curly feels a sense of peace. The girls look at the rustlers with adorable faces and sweet smiles.

"As you can see this is really an up and coming community like Murrieta in California," the man continues. "Not much here now and only a few of us live here." The stranger lowers his head. He's such a friendly fellow and that intrigues the cowboys. He doesn't look like someone worried about wild Indians. "We're hoping after another five years, we'll have a real town here."

"It don't look like no boom town," Curly remarks. This causes the man to begin laughing.

"You really take your parts seriously. You'll be a hit!"

Curly's mind bends into a state of confusion so intense, he begins to feel dizzy and shakes his head as if to ward the feeling off.

"Who are you?" Curly asks.

"I'm Larry Fields and these are my daughters, Jessica and Marin."

"I'm Curly Bill and this here is Johnny Ringo."

The man claps in applause. "I've heard of them. So that's who you're playing in the show? You're free to practice your act on us!"

"What act?" Ringo asks, his face turning red with frustration. "Oh, uh.... maybe. We're hoping to meet some other boys. Thinking about heading to Texas for work."

"Cowboying is some job and it's still around I think it's great you take it so seriously. Are you just out for a ride?"

"Yes. You could say that," Ringo answers, uncertainty in his voice.

"Well, I heard the show was cancelled since some of the actors came down with Covid."

"Covid?" Curly Bill asks slowly. What in the hell is that?"

The man smiles again. "Method actors, huh? Would you like to come inside and enjoy a latte? I've never met a real cowboy before!"

A latte?

"Tombstone, that's not far from here. So you must be here for a wild west show. We've been there a few times. Watching actors play out cops and robbers dressed like the Earps and the Cowboys!"

At this point, the minds of these cowboys begin to spin into an unfamiliar dance of wonder. Why was this man talking about actors playing parts from the past?

Nothing looks like it did before and why is this man asking about wild west shows? Thoughts of what could be the cause of the sudden change in reality flood their heads and stabs at their perception. The friendliness of the strange man, the absence of animals, the cleanliness of the man and his daughters.

"Well, where do you stay when you're doing your shows?" The man asks. His hair, blonde like his daughters looks freshly washed and he's clean shaven with bright blue eyes. He didn't appear to possess the same grit they usually see in other men.

Not knowing what to say, they just nod.

"Do you want some cookies? We made cookies!" One of the girls announces. Her father smiles. Suddenly, a medium size golden retriever comes running towards them.

"Toby!" One girl shouts, turning her attention to her dog. "This is our dog, Toby."

The men tip their hats.

"Well, come on in, fellows. Let's have that latte."

Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo enter the modest, three bedroom house. Beige, lush carpet blankets the floor and a small kitchen rests to the right of the front door. A small table with six chairs sits in a corner and a vase of freshly cut wild flowers lounges on it. A painting of apples hangs over a sink that doesn't seem to have a pump, but there's clearly a faucet. On the other side of the house, a flat, black rectangular object hangs on a wall. One of the girls grabs a black contraption and the black turns to a colorful burst of wonder. A window of moving pictures race across the rectangle and music the rustlers have never heard before begins playing. Words and colors fly across this mysterious window and it feels as though they are right there.

Ringo moves closer and his eyes, like Curly's grow wide with curiosity. People move about on the screen and Curly touches it as if it's a window, but he just taps it and the people in the window don't appear to see him. Curly looks around to see who's talking and looks behind the rectangle. "Who are you? Do you know where we are?" Curly and Ringo feel like ghosts, unable to be seen by the people and even the animals in the window. Phrases burst from the weird looking people in the window and Curly Bill and Ringo can't understand because they're talking so fast. They hear bits and pieces of sentences such as:

"Fix your credit!"

"An easier way to buy a car!"

"Need a vacation? It's affordable now!"

"Suffering from insomnia? Talk to your doctor about..."

*Side effects include..."

The boys stand, their mouths agape.

"What in the hell is this?" Curly whispers. "What are they saying?" Curly feels like he's dreaming and hopes he wakes up in his comfortable and familiar cowboy camp.

"We need to know where we are!" Curly barks at the man on the window screen. "Can you hear us?" Curly shrugs with frustration and feels queasy from the constant movement on the screen. His stomach feels nauseous.

He looks into the rectangle and everything moves so quickly and the voices speak so fast, saying phrases and words that almost seemed like a foreign language.

"What the hell are they saying? Why can't they see us?"

Curly begins getting dizzy watching the screen. The boys see dogs in the window and call for them, but like the people, the dogs can't see them either. The little girls laugh.

Ringo looks over at the odd screen and can understand a few words here and there. High pitched singing fills the room and colorful orbs seem to burst and pop in the window. They cannot comprehend what the hell this device is and why can they see people and animals, while they appear invisible?

"Here we are, boys. Three lattes. Let's go in here so the girls can watch TV."

Marin, the older of the two girls brings a plate of cookies over to where Ringo and Curly are.

"We made these with daddy!" She announces as she skips back to the couch to watch the mysterious window. Ringo and Curly both take a cookie and munch it. A clean and refreshing aroma surrounds them; it's the cleanest place they've ever been in. A fresh and citrusy smell combined with the freshness of flowers floods their nostrils and fills them with comfort even though they feel they must be dreaming.

Ringo and Curly sip the warm beverage and it tastes like sweet, creamy coffee. They lick the foam off their mustaches. It's unbelievably delicious.

"What you say this drink is?" Curly asks, sipping it quickly.

"Lattes! Not too many Starbucks on a cattle drive!" Larry says, sipping his drink slowly.

Ringo was tempted to ask about this person Starbucks, but feels awkward not knowing anything about where they are.

Hell wouldn't smell this clean or be this bright!Ringo thinks.

Maybe we took a wrong turn while riding, maybe the Commanches fired a poison arrow that causes hallucinations? Maybe I'm just dreaming...

"So, when does the show start? Larry asks.

"What show?" Ringo asks.

Larry smiles. "Will it be in Tombstone?"

Ringo simply nods and both cowboys grow anxious to be somewhere else, somewhere familiar. A rough and dirty cowtown would feel more welcoming than this.

"Glad we got to meet! There's not It sure is nice meeting you both. Too bad my wife isn't here. I think she would get such a kick out of you two! She always enjoyed western movies or books about the wild west! A different time back then?" Larry sips his latte and takes a cookie.

Back then? Ringo thinks...

"I'm guessing you stay at the hotel in Tombstone?"

"The hotel is there?" Curly asks. "The Grand Hotel?"

"Sure!" Larry answers. "It's nice that Tombstone hasn't changed much. Still looks the same as it always did. It's a fun place to spend the day. My wife used to like Big Nose Katie's saloon."

"You know Kate?" Ringo asks.

"Not personally," Larry winks. "But there's a saloon named after her!"

Curly and Ringo finish their coffee, desiring more of that scrumptious drink, but want to leave and find out what the hell is happening. They stand up and head for the door. They turn and look at the odd window and spectacular bursts of pink and purple flow with strange little characters that appear like drawings that move and speak. The voices of these creatures deliver a sweet and soft sound and the music feels soothing.

Ringo sees a newspaper on the counter near the sink. He takes it and looks over at Larry.

"Oh, keep it! All nonsense anyway."

"Thank you for the coffee," Ringo says, tipping his hat.

"You're welcome. Anytime."

Curly and Ringo leave, mount their horses and gallop off. Ringo looks all over the newspaper.

"Where the hell are we, Juanito?" Curly asks, sharply.

All the blood drains from Ringo's face and he looks at Curly, his face white as a ghost.

"What the hell, Juanito?" Curly shouts.

"It's not where we are...

It's when."

Ringo's signature poker face has gone and Curly Bill can see for the first time, genuine fear in Ringo's eyes. Curly takes the paper.

"What am I looking at, Johnny?"

Ringo points to the date:

March 20, 2023...

Curly's heart sinks..

Ringo sits on his horse with a frustration so intense, he feels his heart swell and his face grows hot. He wants to ride as fast as he can, see that light and go back to 1881.

Both rustlers spurred their horses and bolted through the desert, hoping their speed could recreate that blinding light they saw just before they flew through the time warp. They rode for several minutes, slapping the backsides of their horses to get them to run at that same flight, but no light showed and the horses were getting tired.

"Shit! We're stuck here! Feels like a damn nightmare! We ain't got nothing or no one to help us! What the hell are we supposed to do?"

Both men remain quiet for several moments, taking in the reality that they are very far from home.

"I wonder what Tombstone looks like," Curly shrugged.

"Let's go find out." Ringo says, his voice is still as the air. "That man Larry said it's the same."

"Well, wouldn't that be something?"

They ride into Tombstone and feel somewhat elated that the town looks surprisingly the same. More shops have been added, but the Oriental still stands, along with the Golden Nugget and they see the famous Bird Cage theater.

"Damn, Juanito. It ain't like it used to be! There ain't hardly any cowboys here! Fact, there ain't no cowboys here. I see families. Everyone here is dressed in their damn bloomers! I ain't never seen men wearing pants above their knees and damn sandals! Hell, they ain't worried about rattlers or scorpions I guess."

"I need a drink, Bill. Clear out heads."

"Let's see what the Oriental is like in, what the hell year are we in?" Curly scratches his head.

"2023."

"Well, shit! I'm glad to see people never tore this town down." Curly says, securing his horse to the posts that still stand outside the famous saloon.

When they enter, they see more people wearing their bloomers and Curly just wants to see a man wearing chaps or boots with spurs. All the patrons begin clapping and Curly Bill and Ringo look at each other and then look behind them, wondering who the odd people are applauding.

"Hey! Here they are! You're from the wild west show!" The men start hooting and holding up their drinks. Ringo and Curly feel a bit important and feel their best strategy was to simply be honest and that they were in fact seasoned jackaroos who drive cattle since cattle driving is still around in the 21st century.

Some of the women look stunningly gorgeous. Hair that shines in the light and looks as soft as butter. Luxurious, lovely locks that flow freely. Long, delicate eyelashes frame wonderfully made up eyes that sparkle, with perfectly done make up. They also seemed to wear very little clothing and some of them were showing their legs! Curly Bill and Johnny couldn't take their eyes off of them. They appeared like goddesses sitting there, sipping wine.

Curly Bill and Ringo tip their hats and that causes the beauties to smile. They start playing with their glamorous hair and smile, showing beautiful, white teeth.

"We're so bummed the show was cancelled, but at least you're here to make our trip a little more authentic!" One of the patrons states. He stands, a little taller than Ringo, wearing a blue T Shirt with the words, "One Cool Dude." Like some of the other men, his pants are cut above the knees. The cowboys believe the weather is too much for these green horns and they don't wear tenacious shirts like cowboys do. The man's green eyes dance in the light and his eyebrows and hair appear perfectly trimmed. He's holding a bottle in his hand and standing next to a few other dudes who are dressed in similar clothing and like the man with the blue T-shirt, they look cleaner than anyone the cowboys have ever seen. Curly Bill and Johnny felt awkward and dirty standing near these clean shaven men.

Them duds wouldn't last a day on the range, Curly thinks.

Another tall man, at least wearing long pants stands and calls for the bar dog. Much to the cowboys surprise, the barkeep looked just like Milt; wearing the same white shirt and apron and he's sporting a mustache similar to theirs.

"A round for these boys!" The stranger says. "I'm Dave and you'll never pay for a drink in this town!" All the people start cheering and whistling and Curly Bill and Ringo can't decide what to do.

The man called Dave has brown eyes and a full beard that looks freshly trimmed. He's almost as tall as Curly and Ringo and looks stocky with large, muscular arms. His dress shoes look newly polished.

"I invested some dough in Tombstone real estate. I'm looking to add to this town. Bring in some more outside business. What are you boys drinking?"

"I'll take a beer and a shot," Ringo answers.

"I'll take the same," Curly grunts. They all move to the bar and have a seat on the stools. Curly looks around and can almost hear the sound of Campton Races playing in the piano while rustlers, businessmen, cattle ranchers and other types drank and played faro. Damn, if only he could see a familiar face! He closes his eyes for a few minutes and recalls moving through this crowded saloon to quench his thirst for rotgut whiskey and faro or poker. He can almost see Milt pouring drinks, cowboys getting rowdy, whores moving about, showing their merchandise, the back parlor where pretty ladies would sing and the distant sound of gunfire. One thing he didn't miss was the stench. Curly Bill can remember that ferocious odor that permeated the saloons that lacked ventilation or even insulation and so it was biting cold in winter and scorching hot in summer. And he didn't see communal towels for men to wipe their mustaches and beer foamed beards. The aroma whirls around the two rustlers and they can't imagine going back to when places like this stunk of horrific body odor, horse shit and bad whisky. The cleanliness was something both welcomed. They both wanted to take baths and have their clothes laundered, but felt awkward asking about things like that.

More half dressed people walked in and following them, a man wearing cowboy attire strode in. Curly and Ringo could tell he wasn't a seasoned cowpoke since his shirt and pants didn't sustain the tenacity of a real cowboy's duds.

"Howdy, everybody!" The cowboy declares. "Whiskey's on me!" He takes his jacket off and starts drinking with the other patrons.

Curly Bill approaches the cowboy in disguise.

"What outfit have you rode with?" Curly Bill asks.

The stranger laughs and Curly Bill and Ringo wonder why people laugh when they say certain things.

"I'm not really a cowboy. I just dress like one when I come to Tombstone. I'm not a part of the wild west show, but my girlfriend says I look cute in cowboy garb."

"Damn! Check out those guns! Where the hell did you get those? I didn't know you could buy those anymore!" One the men says. Curly Bill, who is usually never at a loss for words, suddenly doesn't know what to say.

"We've moved cattle a time or two," Curly Bill remarks.

"So, you're real cowboys?" The man in the blue T-shirt asks.

Ringo nods.

"That's awesome! I'm Chuck!" Says the green horn cowboy. "Nice to meet you both! Why'd you say you were in the wild west show?"

Curly shakes his head. "Well, we ain't! We just moved a herd of cows from Texas. We're off for a little while."

"Is that a seasonal job?" One of the women inquires, twirling her dark hair. Curly can't believe she's talking to him. But her eyes fall over the old cowboy and he swears he's never seen women so damn gorgeous. The ladies he thought were lovely like Josephine Marcus, Red or Sad Sally from the Dead End saloon. But now it seems he can't even remember what they look like. Every lady Ringo and Curly see appear more beautiful than the previous. A heavenly array of unbelievably pretty women.

Curly moves a little closer to her and the glitter makeup causes her eyes to sparkle and dance. Her full red lips part as she gazes up at him.

"Well, we don't drive during the winter months too much. But come spring, we'll be real busy again."

"Hey, what are your names?"

Curly Bill and Ringo look at each other.

"I'm Bill Graham and this here is John Ringold."

"Howdy there, fellas!" Chuck announces. "This is so fucking cool! Having real ass cowboys here!"

Ringo's face grows red.

Swearing in front of ladies!

Ringo would have liked to deck the guy for disrespecting the women, but thought better of it. They had no way of knowing what to expect and did not have a clear understanding of the social norms. People seemed friendly and jovial and relaxed. And none of them were carrying pistols.

"I'm Bob," the man in the blue T-shirt says, holding his hand out for the rustlers to shake.

"Tombstone was a wild town back in the day! Damn, wouldn't that be something to be alive back then?!" Bob sips his beer from a small bottle.

"Tombstone was queen of these boomtowns," Johnny Ringo answers. "Sho'ly a bit more refined than Dodge."

The ladies smile and giggle, thinking the cowboys are amazingly brauny.

"Yeah, I heard Dodge was like the worst place!" Bob finishes his beer and waves for the bar dog to give him another. "But, we've got some fucked up gun laws."

Curly Bill and Ringo wish the man would stop swearing, especially in front of women.

"What do you mean by that?" Ringo thinks out loud.

"We need stricter laws so kids don't get shot to death at school!" Bob shakes his head. "I'm not downing having guns, but military assault rifles? Who the fuck needs those?"

MORE SWEARING! THIS IS HOW PEOPLE TALK IN THE FUTURE? Ringo rages in his mind.

"Times sure have changed since the days of Wyatt Earp," Bob declares, pretending to be pulling a pistol. He chuckles and says, "Hey, I'm Wyatt Earp, mo fos!" He sticks his tongue out and continues his charade. "Gimme yer pistols, feller or I'll fill ya full of lead!" He looks over at Dave and a few others and they all begin laughing.

"You know about Wyatt Earp?" Curly beckons.

"Of course!" Dave shouts. "Guy was a freakin' idiot!" Dave, Chuck and Bob clink their beer bottles together.

Curly and Ringo chuckle and want to hear more about what these modern day people think of the Earps and the conflict between the Earps and the Cowboys. Curly feels amused and enjoys hearing the boys bash his old rival.

What has history had to say about us and what happened to us?

"What makes you say that?" Curly inquires.

"Going up against Curly Bill Brocious and those others! Now that guy was a force to be reckoned with. Anyone would be a fool to call out a man like Brocious. That dude was bad ass!"

Curly Bill stands with his arms folded. He flicks his tongue as he does when amused by something. He begins to guffaw loudly, causing the patrons to laugh along with him.

"You think so?" Curly grunts.

"Fuck yeah! I wouldn't go up against Brocious. That dude was so cool! Rumor was, he could shoot rabbits running from 20 yards away! I wouldn't mess with a guy like that! Too bad there's no photos of him. Just a few drawings that aren't very good!

"What about Doc Holliday?" Ringo inquires, his heart racing, waiting to hear.

"Loser!" Dave and Bob say in unison. This causes Ringo to smile and he even lets out a laugh which causes Curly to look over in disbelief. Chuck sucked back his shot and started on his beer. He laughed along with the others.

Bob holds up his hand with his palm flat and Dave slaps Bob's hand with his open palm. A gesture the rustlers have never seen, but enjoyed watching.

Bob starts walking like a refined gentleman. "Yeah, I'm Doc Holliday. I quit being a dentist so I can spend my life cheating at poker and avoiding my health!" The two men clink their beer bottles together and laugh.

Curly Bill looks at Ringo, whose eyes are wide with delight and curiosity. He laughs under his breath. He's clearly amused by the two 21st century men. He's almost afraid to ask,

"what about Johnny Ringo?"

He decides to wait.

"Another round!" Dave shouts.

Curly Bill and Johnny feel a bit more comfortable drinking with the men they just met and are eager to ask more questions about Tombstone history.

"Hey! There's more cowboys!" Chuck announces standing up and ordering more drinks for everyone.

Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo look out the window.

"I'll be damned..." Curly whispers.

Ringo looks out and his heart lifts when he sees the Clanton's, McClaury's, Barnes, Cruz, Stillwell and Indian Charlie all riding together, walking slowly through town, looking confused and out of place. They dismount and secure their horses to the posts that still stand after all these decades.

"Hold on a minute," Curly growls, finally feeling the effects of the whiskey and beer, which is the best tasting he's ever had in his life. He exits the saloon and Ringo follows.

"Ike? Billy?"

Ike and Billy turn and see Ringo and Curly and gaze upon their friends as if looking at a mirage. The other Cowboys mouths drop.

"Curly Bill! Johnny Ringo!" Ike announces.

"Hey, do you know what's going on?" Ringo asks.

Ike shakes his head.."We was being chased by them injuns! You and Ringo disappeared! We saw a light that almost blinded us boys! Next thing we knew, everything was changed!"

"We met some people along the way," Billy Clanton swoons.

"Yeah," Ike responds. "Have you seen the women around here? I saw a lady's ankles!" Ike blushes.

"Well, I saw a lady's legs and her arms too!" Stillwell brags.

Curly Bill smiles. The best part of this new world they were experiencing was the women.

"Everyone's in their bloomers!" Frank McClaury chuckles. Men wearing pants above their knees!" The men start laughing; they couldn't help but find it incredibly funny that the men dressed like that since none of the cowboys would be caught dead wearing sandals and pants above the knees!

"What about money?" Ringo asks. "We don't have any!"

"No, we do!" Ike announces. "Everything changed, even our money. Look!" Ike pulls out bills that look unrecognizable.

"What's this? Where did you get this?" Curly asks.

"Check yours!"

Curly Bill and Ringo take their money out and sure enough, the bills are modern cash. "How the hell?" Curly muses. He counts over six hundred dollars, money left from the stage they robbed.

Ringo pulls his money out and like the other boys, it's completely different. "I'll be damned...This just keeps getting stranger."

"There's the Oriental!" Billy Clanton bellows. "Damn! It ain't no different. Everything here looks the same cept folks ain't dressed. Everyone smells so damn clean!"

"We stink boys!" Curly guffaws, almost feeling like he's back in 1881. "Let's get to the hotel and see about some baths!"

The Grand Hotel still stood, except more rooms added. They enter and the hotel clerk is dressed in 19th century fashion. His mustache curls up.

"Howdy, gentleman. How many rooms?"

"About 5. We can sleep two in a room." Curly states.

Upon receiving their keys and fresh towels, they head up to their rooms. Another sparkling clean area with that wonderous citrus aroma.

A laundry area was just outside the hotel, but was filled with machines instead of large baths of hot water.

Ringo figured out to use these odd machines and the boys spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning themselves up. They also visited the barber shop and had their mustaches, beards and hair trimmed. Later that day, while the orange sun melts behind the mountains in the distance, they feel ready to experience this 21st century Tombstone.

Curly Bill walks in front with Ringo strolling right by his side. The warm spring breeze washes over them like a mid day bath and they tip their hats to the tourists wandering through the streets. The gang of Cowboys start to feel a hot blooded ache in their souls and almost wish the Earps were there to try to take their guns away just for fun!

"I'm wanting to see more ladies!" Ike whines. "Damn, these women look like nothing I ever saw!"

Billy Clanton looks over at his brother with Cheshire Cat grin and nods his head.

"Let's head to the Crystal Palace and see what those girls are like," Curly growls.

Ringo looks forward, trying to grow more acclimated like his fellow gang members. Although he too appreciated the beauty of these goddesses, his fear and guilt seem to overtake him. He can imagine the soft, sparkling liquid eyes gazing upon him, desiring to please him. But these women resembled pictures he'd seen in fairy tale books or like the China dolls he'd seen in toy stores. They appeared almost...

Untouchable.

Just to stroke their glowing skin could send Johnny into such a bath of delight and wonder and he feared he could never please or pleasure any of them.

He could see his fellow Cowboys, strutting through the streets, people giving them modern day gestures the boys didn't understand, but seemed to know the meaning behind these gestures. These 21st century people provided a friendly atmosphere and they all seemed excited about having the Cowboys around, although they had no idea these men just flew through a time warp. Ringo still entertained the thought that the Indians struck them with arrows that caused hallucinations or perhaps a very deep sleep and that soon he would awaken back in 1881.

While the sun begins to creep behind the mountains that frame Tombstone, people begin filtering through town. The Cowboys see families going in and out of the various shops and single men and women hustling about, looking for some fun. The boys seem amazed at the feeling of the town and that it appears so unchanged. The streets still dirt, are lined with new establishments and older ones. Curly Bill wondered if the Dead End saloon was still standing on the other side of Allen Street. At this moment, they didn't care; they were free from the yoke of the law that pursued them and the modern day people didn't appear to have any fear of bounty hunters and wild Indians. Everyone enjoyed themselves.

As they strolled through the 21st century town, they noticed a few greenhorns wandering around. It was clear to the boys, these dudes were never in a cattle drive. But they embraced the familiarity.

The boys enter one of the newer establishments, Big Nose Kate's saloon. They moved through the batwings just like in the old days, commanding the attention of every man and woman in the room.

A few men hoot and whistle and the women stare at the boys as if they've never seen a man before.

"Hey, it's cowboys!" One man shouts. The stranger stands just under six feet, a round face with a full beard and dark eyes. His large hand held a beer while he shook the hands of some of the other boys.

"Howdy, fellas! I'm Mike. It's so cool to have real cowboys here!" Mike finishes his beer and orders another. "What's it like being a real life cowboy?"

"It's a dirty job that don't pay well!" Stillwell remarks. "It ain't a job for no tenderfoot neither."

Mike smiles. "Let me introduce you to some other dudes.

Mike introduces the boys to a few other men.

Marcus, the tallest of the group stood a little taller than Ringo. His clean shaven face and stoic features gave him an almost regal appearance. His blond hair fell just below his shoulders and his piercing blue eyes seemed cold.

Next they met Simon, a shorter man with a stout body and his fave adorned with an uneven beard. His brown eyes danced in the light, his disposition a little friendlier.

Matt, a short fat man with baggy pants and a shirt that was not tucked in nods at the boys, his brown eyes friendly.

A few other men come in, wearing dress pants and fancy shirts that wouldn't last a day on the range. A few wore boots that looked new and did not have the tenacity of a real cowboy's clothes.

The Cowboys begin engaging in small talk, mostly answering questions about cattle driving.

The Cowboys begin experiencing hunger pangs and start asking where to find the best eating establishments. They have one more round with their newfound friends and leave the bar to find a restaurant. They strut through town while it continues getting dark. The town doesn't have the sound of pianos in various saloons, the jingling of spurs, the neighing of horses or the clinking of the blacksmith iron. In a way, they long for that familiarity and a sense of adventure, but everything in this new time period felt almost dull to them. They hadn't entertained the idea of venturing out of modern day Tombstone and the uncertainty of life in this new time period begins to weigh a bit.

What else are there we boys haven't seen? There's gotta be more in this new space.

Their focus shifts and they go into a restaurant called, "The Chuck Wagon Grill." When they enter, they see a bar similar to that of the one at the Oriental. The same mahogany wood appeared in all the bars and other establishments. Tables with black and white tablecloths and booths. The waiters all dressed in black suits and long aprons moved about, carrying trays of drinks and hot meals. People look over at the cowboys. Some laugh and others lift their glasses. The place embraces an elegance the boys aren't used to.

A stunning looking brunette, wearing a pink and black dress that showed off her curves walks over quickly. All the Cowboys take their hats off.

"Howdy, ma'am," Curly Bill says, holding his hat and feeling a tingling in his groin he couldn't resist. He still can't believe how beautiful these women are.

"Right this way, please." The boys follow her, not taking their wide eyes off her curves. The large restaurant looks busy and Curly and the others can see some people snickering at them while some of the other patrons smile.

The men are seated at a large table.

"I'll take a beer," Ike says shyly, not taking his eyes off the hostess. He can feel his face turn red when she smiles at him. He notices the curves of her breasts and imagines kissing her right there. Ike continues staring at her until Ringo nudges him. Ike snaps out his trance while the other cowboys laugh.

"Your server will be right with you," she smiles.

They all watch her head back to her station. The only man not reacting was Ringo, who once again saw these angelic beings as untouchable delights.

TO BE CONTINUED...

I've got major writer's block on this!!!

[cowboys-of-tombstone]

Curly Bill & Johnny Ringo: Cuddling Headcanons

°˖✧Ko-Fi 💖 Patreon✧˖°

      Suggested by @themuseinthewoods. They turned out fairly short, so I decided to add Curly Bill in here as well. I hope you like it! ^^

Curly Bill:

✭ After a long day, Curly Bill loves nothing more than stretching out and resting his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his messy hair. Feeling your soft gentle fingers lightly scratch at his scalp, would likely have him fall asleep in no time, having been put to ease in your loving presence. 

✭ It’s no secret that Bill loves to show off, and when it comes to PDA, he isn’t shy whatsoever. Expect to sit in his lap, or in between his legs, with his arms wrapped around you tightly. He will smooch your cheek and neck as loudly as he can and rub his bristly stubble against you. He loves your reactions, and though you try to squirm away, it’ll bring him to do it more.

✭ If you thought that Bill would’ve changed his tune once the both of you reached a more private setting… you’d be partially right. Sure, the hot blooded Cowboy could get a little bit handsy with you when no one’s around. But, there will be times where his toothy grin softens and he whispers to you in his deep, gravelled voice how much you mean to him. He’ll caress your back, your arms, your legs, and press his lips into your neck as the slow, quiet night goes on.

✭ When it’s all said and done, and it’s time to wind down, Curly Bill would doubtlessly beckon you to bed, shirtless, and eagerly patting where he wants you to join him. Sure he’s a big spoon, and you will feel his warm breath on your neck as you doze off. But what he likes to do, more often than not, is lay on his back and cradle you into his side, your head resting on his chest, placing tender kisses against your forehead. The man has over 200 Cowboys that look up to him for guidance, and many more enemies that want to look up to him in the gallows. But in these moments, he is simply your man, and you’re simply his girl, unwilling to let go.

Johnny Ringo:

✭ While loving every opportunity to rest his head in your lap, Johnny Ringo may need to be goaded into it. He’s a bit reserved, afterall, but despite that, he is put to ease by the warmth of your person. Bonus points if you read to him in a soft, loving voice. 

✭ Johnny has a hang-up with PDA. It’s not that he doesn’t want others to know you both are together, but rather he doesn’t want to come across as tasteless for your sake. However, if you allow him, he will stand behind you and rest his head on your shoulder, slowly swaying to the beat of any playing music. And given any chance, he’ll sneak you away for a more private cuddle.

✭ While on the topic of private cuddles, Johnny is far less high strung about his affection. He will coil around you like a sidewinder, grabbing every bit of you that he can muster. It’s almost as if the way he holds you is laced with yearning. Not just that you’re someone he needs, but also you’re someone he’s afraid to lose. After a lifetime of loss, can you really blame him?

✭ Typically, when it’s time for bed, Johnny likes to hold you against his chest, but more so, he enjoys being face to face. He’ll look into your eyes as you drift off before falling asleep himself. However, occasionally he’ll rest his head against your chest or midsection, and hold you close. He’ll hear your heartbeat as a soft repeating pulse along with the rise and fall of your breath. There will be times when he feels vulnerable, whether through a bout of depression, reliving past traumas, deep regrets, or a moment of weakness and tenderness. So when you hold him back in these trying times for him, you release him from that pain and the front he creates falls away.

[rock-n-macabre]

Crappy screen capture but.......JOHNNY

[txmbstone]

Hi lovely!!!

Can you write a head cannon about how Curly Bill and Johnny Ringo behave when they're jealous seeing the reader flirt with another man. 🙏

Oh my gosh when I tell you I got so excited for this. I hope this isn’t too much like the other one I did previously but there might be some carry over

Curly Bill

He is livid. Absolutely fuming. He hated watching these sad excuses for Cowboys come up and try to win your affection over a drink or a few pretty words, but when you choose to do it? Oooo you’re in for it.

You both had gotten into a fight. It was a silly fight, really, but his pride and your stubbornness refused to let the sleeping dog lie. You couldn’t even remember what the fight was about (a product of the liquor you both consumed that night having a massive part to play in that) but Brocius was refusing to even utter a simple ‘hello’ to you

Alright, two can play at that game

You decide to pick yourself up off the floor and get dressed in your best. If he was going to be furious with you, you were going to make sure you damn well earned it

It started with ignoring him completely as you left camp, letting McMasters help you onto your horse (you knew Brocius liked to reserve that task only for himself, all to his testament that he would be the only gentleman you needed to turn to)

You knew he’d follow you into town sooner or later — he could never stay away from the night life for long, so you made for the saloon you both preferred to frequent

The night is still young, ladies and gentlemen just starting to fill the saloon, and you blatantly ignore the red sashes that filter through the black and gray suits

“More champagne?” The tycoon whose name you’ve already forgotten offers with a smile, chuckling as you raise your glass to him. He was charming, you had to admit. He had something warm in his eyes, but they never compared to the fire that burned in Brocius’s, that spark so devilish you had no choice but to follow in sin

Suddenly you feel a hand on your waist, nearly yanking you out of your chair into the embrace of a warm figure

Your hands find purchase in a familiar red tunic, and you glance up to see the man of the hour himself, looking positively red and furious. (You never knew Brocius could turn such a shade, no matter what attitude you threw his way you’d never seen him even change color)

You take a quick glance between the two men, immediately clocking the tension in the air, and fueled by the stupidity and pettiness of alcohol, you decide to make it worse

You slither out of Brocius's grip, and saddle up right next to the tycoon, a smile on your face all the while. "Good evening, Curly Bill. I see you've met my latest friend. He and I were just discussing the latest improvements to the Oriental. Care to join us?”

His features turn sour (if such a thing was possible, he was looking positively green mere moments ago) tongue rolling over his cheek, and you know you’ve got a long night ahead of you

Johnny Ringo

If you thought Brocius was bad Johnny is a god damn nightmare

Don’t even get me started on the lengths this man would go to when establishing that you belong to him and no one else — even when the two of you weren’t even courting

Johnny always had a watchful eye, even more so when it came to watching you. Even before the both of you began courting, you’d catch him staring in crowded saloons or high up in the boxes of the Bird Cage Theater.

You didn’t mind it. You’d knew about the infamous Johnny Ringo, heard the legends his name carried, saw the way he carried himself. Always on the hunt for something. Head always on a swivel. You wanted to know the mystery behind the man, what life had been conjured up behind those dark eyes of his.

You finally had the chance to meet him one night at the Oriental, chatting with your friends at the bar when he walks past. He locks eyes with yours and instantly your entranced by the quiet outlaw

To save face, you flash him the smallest of smiles (to be polite, you remember telling a friend) and turn back to the giggling mess your friends have turned into

You don’t watch him leave, but you feel a set of eyes on you all night, even as Mayor Behan introduces himself to your little group with that charming smile of his and wicked sense of humor. He offers your group the finest of wines and champagnes, and while your friend indulge themselves in the Mayor’s money, you prefer to keep an eye on the man you can’t stop thinking about

You notice he likes to watch, too. He’s tucked away in his own little dim corner of the bar, puffing at a cigar as he plays a hand of poker with other Cowboys. Every now and then his cigar lights up his features under the brim of his hat, and his gaze is always set to you. Waiting. (You’re not sure what for; you’ve always loved to play Cat and Mouse, and if he was willing to look at you like you’re dripping sin just for him, you were going to made sure he worked for it)

And just like that, a little match sparks an idea

You turn away from the Outlaw entirely, leaning in closer to Behan as he spins a tale about rescuing a poor kitten out of a tree. A few friends of his arrive too, joining your little group as they vouch for him. You hit it off with one of them right away. Cole, his name is, and he makes you laugh nearly as hard as your brothers did when you were kids. He’s a nice little distraction from the Outlaw lurking in the corner — and a perfect motivator.

You never expected your little game to end so soon

Just as Cole reaches for another glass of wine to pour you, a quarter leaps between the both of you, recoiling in shock as a gray outfit squishes between the small space Cole had once filled

You’re completely surprised to see Johnny Ringo, looking as deadly as the Grim Reaper and oozing sin. He orders a shot of whiskey, eyes set directly on you, before adding another glass of champagne to his order. “That is your weapon of choice tonight, am I correct?”

Your cheeks burn with the question. You expected this game to last a little longer, if you were playing a game at all. He seemed to skip all of the pieces on the board and went straight for your king.

It takes you a moment to recover yourself, but Cole is quicker, interjecting until Ringo’s fingers fly to his holsters.

“Best leave us alone, or it’s your body they’ll be parading down these streets in the morning.”

“I don’t remember asking for a white knight in shining armor to come to my rescue, Mister Ringo.” You say, watching Cole storm out of the bar, ears burning red and face a little pale.

He leans in close, invading your space with the presence of him, tipping his hat just so it’s the two of you. “You didn’t. I’m not the knight you read in fantasy books.”

“No?” You tease, hand over your heart in faked shock. “Then what character will you play in mine?”

“The dragon.”

[ i am so sorry y’all this feels so rushed AND ITS SO LATE. life has been kicking me in the butt lately and i so desperately wanted to get this out sooner but my brain pan is currently on fire and there’s no fire extinguisher in the kitchen. let me know if you want to see more! ]

[bowdre]

Tombstone OC

i. Basics

•Name•

Amber Brooke Holliday

•Nickname•

Little Holliday

•Age•

(1881) 21

•Birthday•

July 5th, 1860

•Gender•

Female

•Sexuality•

Straight

•Zodiac•

Cancer

•Height•

5'6"

•Occupation•

Gambler

ii.Relationship Status

Amber first met Johnny Ringo at the Oriental Saloon, along with the Earps and Doc. Though, she had already caught the outlaws eye at the theater when he saw her sitting with her brother.

Johnny, showboating his gun twirling skills, first made Amber interested. She recognized the tension between Johnny and Doc, but the heart wanted what it wanted, and Amber's heart wanted Johnny Ringo.

The two 'coincidently' ran into each other a few days later, and it was then Johnny saw the opportunity to ask if she was spoken for by one of the Earps. She said no. Immediately, the two started courting.

iii. Appearance

•Hair colour•

Golden brown

•Hair length•

Armpit

•Eye colour•

Chocolate brown

•Skin tone•

Rose beige

iv. Personality

•Good traits•

Leadership, intelligence, brave, observant

•Bad traits•

Disobedient, argumentative, deceitful

•Strengths•

Educated

•Weaknesses•

Stubborn, too proud

•Likes•

Astrology, thunderstorms, comfortable silence

•Dislikes•

The smell of tobacco, humid weather

•Habits•

Whistling, grinding her teeth

•Talents/skills•

Dexterity, sharp shooter, survival skills

v. Relationships

•Mother•

Alice McKey

•Father•

Henry Holliday

•Siblings•

John 'Doc' Holliday, Martha Holliday

•Lover(s)•

Johnny Ringo

•Friends•

Wyatt, Virgil, and Morgan Earp. Josephine Sarah 'Sadie' Earp, Magdalena Rhysdam, Louisa Earp.

•Close friends•

Morgan Earp

vi. Backstory

Amber was raised in a loving, nurturing home, despite the death of her mother in 1866. Amber was six years old. Growing up, Amber found comfort and security in her older brother, he was her protector. Amber was given everything her older brother was given. Nice clothes, a good education. Anything Amber wanted, she got.

When Amber was the right age to start finding her way in life, she quickly realized the domestic lifestyle simply wasn't to her taste. She found interest in card games, specifically poker, and she used her skill to her advantage.

Amber, who was seventeen at the time, was introduced to the lifestyle of Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh, a famous outlaw who played cards with her brother. The two struck up a short-lived romance, until Wyatt Earp came into her life. When the day came that her older brother saved the sheriff's life, Amber knew her friendship with the Earp brothers was more important than her romance with the outlaw.

[disastrouscanasta]

Tombstone as vines because it’s part of a binge watch I’m doing so people can’t judge me for rewatching it

[kchasm]

Ryu Number Chart Update: Call of Juarez: Gunslinger

Call of Juarez: Gunslinger is the fourth game in the Call of Juarez series, all but unrelated to the first two installments and thankfully unrelated to the third (let's us not talk about the third). This game features Silas Greaves, an aging gunman and bounty hunter in 1910 Abiline, Kansas who's got some recollections to regale a handful of saloongoers about, the majority of which have to do with wandering the Wild West and putting lead in people who perhaps deserve to have a bit more lead in them. Mind, Greaves isn't exactly what you'd call a Reliable Narrator... but he's not an Unreliable Narrator, either.

Gunslinger plays with the story-in-a-story narrative in a few pretty neat ways. As the player character stalks through a brightly lit swamp, one Greaves' listeners notes that the weather must have been nice, to which Greaves responds that no, it was foggy—and the environment immediately becomes so. Paths open up for the player character to follow as Greaves mentions them. More than once, Greaves gets distracted, causing the story (i.e. gameplay) he's narrating to change, or, on one occasion, spin into worrying surreality. The best example, I think, is when one of the characters sat at the saloon says he knows how the tale goes, providing narration and scenario for the player to shoot through FPSly, only for Greaves to tell him that that's not how it went at all; this is how it went—and then you play through that.

(So yeah, this technically means that all of the stages are Greaves' recollections and tales, which means they're technically not happening during the game's narrative which is wholly set at the saloon—if they ever happened at all, is another issue—but seeing as no significant amount of gameplay occurs outside of his narrative, and at least some of the stuff Really Did Happen—including various non-Greaves bits throughout the game—I'm going to call on the Code Name: S.T.E.A.M. precedent here and count it while circumnavigating the best I can in the future around using this game for characters that only appeared in Greaves' recollections. If you have any objections, these objections are completely fair and valid and you can stop reading this post now.)

(Hey, you're still here! Aces.)

One element that differentiates Gunslinger from previous entries in the series is the number of historical Wild West figures who show up in Greaves' tales. As the game notes, it wasn't unusual for dime novels to turn real-life gunhandlers into celebrities and folkheroes, if it wasn't those slingers doing the selling themselves—and Greaves, for all the low regard he's got for those novels, is selling a heck of a story. The very first stage, in fact, involves his brief and ill-fated team-up with Billy the Kid.

And yes, all the Big Names get intro screens like this. It's awesome.

Caveat: Henry Plummer's appearance in Greaves' story is especially suspect, on account of that it places him in after 1882, about a score of years after the real-life Plummer was given an awfully tawdry corded necklace and instructed to hang around. Too anachronistic to count, then?

Maybe. I dunno if it changes anything, but (and this is completely baseless speculation, so don't you dare copy-paste me like I'm some voice of expertise) to me, it almost feels like a mistake from outside the game. A point for this hypothesis: There's a character from the saloon who's prone to interjection whenever he thinks Greaves' story has gotten a little too far off reality, and while he does pipe up during the Plummer matter, all he says is that Greaves got the location wrong, which you'd think would barely qualify as peccadillo next to the whole time thing.

But no, everyone's perfectly fine with the time thing, which suggests that it isn't an error—not within the game, at least. Ever read Umney's Last Case? It's a short story. Stephen King.

... But hey, maybe Greaves really is just making the entire Plummer business up, and that specifically is the reason it's chronologically out of whack. It's more than implied at the end of the game that Greaves has—at least at one point during the whole game—stretched some truth, somewhere, but the where and when and how much and how important go cheerily unanswered.

Also, Plummer has an appearance on-screen during a not-directly-related-to-Greaves bit where they explain who he is For The Benefit Of The Player, which means it doesn't matter whether Greaves is making anything up or not, which means this whole multiparagraph massacre was for the benefit of nothing.

I waste your time! I waste all of your time!

Anyway, Ryu Numbers:

Wait, sorry, Dwight D. Eisenhower? Like the American president Dwight D. Eisenhower? Mr. I-Like-Ike?

Yeah, there's a reason the framing device bits happen in Abilene, Kansas, of all places. Eisenhower—born 1890—grew up there, before going to West Point in 1911. Before the Wild West era finally sunset, Wild Bill Hickok himself, in the early 1870's, served as marshal of the city. Tradition states that the Abilene of that time was a town of wickedness and criminality, which Hickok did his utmost to restore to lawfulness almost singlehandedly in the face of repeated attempts at assassination. And yes, there was a shootout in the Old West style, with the grievances petty but the consequences violent and lethal.

The truth, of course, is a lot more complicated (and a lot more interesting—see Robert Dykstra's 1961 paper in American Studies, "Wild Bill Hickok in Abilene"), but it wouldn't be wrong to say that Eisenhower grew up with the specter of the Old West hanging around.

... Which feels wrong, doesn't it? Talking about the Wild West and Eisenhower in anything like the same era. But the American Civil War only ended in 1865 (which means we haven't even gotten a bicentennialsworth of not-enslaving-not-imprisoned-people, incidentally), which is where a whole lot of the Wild West's big names owe their production (gotta take out that trauma somewhere). And then Manifest Destiny and genocide (all the genocide) and the Homestead Acts, and paved roads and the automobile (and in the opening cutscene, Silas Greaves' horse panics when the car nearly runs them over), and then it's World War I and an uncountable number of fresh-faced American boys are going to Europe to die face-down in the mud.

That's 1917. That's only just over fifty years.

Horse ebooks was right. Everything happens so much.

(For future reference, the characters who you can almost definitely count as showing up even if Greaves is pulling the maximum amount of bunk are Billy the Kid, Curly Bill Brocius, Johnny Ringo, Old Man Clanton, Henry Plummer—anachronism or otherwise—John Wesley Hardin, Bob Dalton, Grat Dalton, Emmett Dalton, Bill Powers—or however you'd prefer to spell him—Dick Broadwell—Bob, Grat, and those last two appear in Ben's recollection of the Dalton Gang, their bodies laid out in reference to an actual photograph that was taken—Jim Reed—that portion of Greaves' story is confirmed true—Jesse James, Frank James, Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, and of course, Dwight D. Eisenhower.)

[themuseinthewoods]

Headcanons for romantic relationships with Tombstone men

Characters are Doc Holliday, Wyatt Earp, Virgil Earp, Morgan Earp, and Johnny Ringo

Edit: I did have curly bill on this but because I am unable to portray him in a way that is polite and respectful to any that actually enjoy his character, I just went ahead and removed him. I am very, very sorry.

X reader headcanons, pretty sure they are gender neutral? Kinda on the shorter side cause its a lot of characters

I did gender neutral reader, but it is a little geared towards the feminine amongst us. but like I said gender neutral.

covers everything from the start to potential marriage

warning: me being ridiculous and some cursing

anyways, enjoy!

Doc Holliday never has an illness looked so good

Doc Holliday is the kind of man to flirt and say the most filthy things while also being charming about it, so you better get used to him trying to fluster you, although he'll enjoy it even more if you say something back

he's not going to do that until you have a relationship yet, before that he'll try and pull you in with his witty remarks and humor

darling will be your nickname, it comes naturally with his charming southern drawl

in a moment of vulnerability, when you are discussing the nature of your relationship for this first time, he doesn't want to pass his tuberculosis to you or slow you down by 'making' you love a sick and dying man but with some reassurance, he's 'non-existent' fears just disappear

he likes having you on his arm when you are together, its basically cuddling for him

sit beside him while he gambles (he'll never let you play) and hold his arm, or simply pour him drinks and cheer him on

if you smoke, sharing a cigarette (literally) is one of the highest forms of flirting for him

he will always walk you home, its partly manners and partially because he's hoping that you'll invite him in for a longer visit

he knows quite a lot about the world and he is willing to discuss anything you wish too

he's very protective of you, especially because of the life he lives. nobody is gonna hurt you

if you want to get married. that's great

he'll happily marry you, it's the closest he'll get to settling down and while he won't be able to just stay in one place, it will be nice for him to have one person

he will make sure you know that you will be widowed at some point but he will promise to love you until the very end of his days

Wyatt Earp holy fuck he's handsome, those eyes

oh boy, so uh, you like a challenge huh?

he's not an easy person to flirt with I mean you've seen the movie-

lets say that you manage to crack through to this 'oak' as Doc calls him and now he's smitten

once he's kinda warmed up to you, simply spending time with you, sitting in a field just quietly talking

sure, he craves adventure but he'll help keep them tamer when you're around, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you, he's seen too much and because your his beloved, its so important for him to protect you

he'll dance with you and while it takes him some time to get used to it, he will eventually enjoy it

the only cuddling

honestly? he'll kinda like it if you sit next to him while he works so that he can then walk you home

cuddles? yeah, he likes giving you hugs where he holds you to his chest so he knows your safe, he'll have you pressed against his side, head on his chest as he holds you

help him do something that might be a minor inconvenience to him and he might melt

marriage? as long as you're ready for a life on the road and he's gonna treat you like a royal

you're gonna be very happy

Virgil Earp *screaming* WHY ARE THEY ALL HOT

I am sorry, not really but he is number one on the husband materiel list

he might seem like not much of a conversationalist and honestly, if you had any hesitation in going out with him at all, its because you're worried it'll be awkward and honestly, I feel ya

I would like to politely correct you because he is more then happy to discuss many things with you

and oh boy, when your relationship kicks off he likes to have you either on his arm or in arms

and he is good at it!

The most protective out of all his brothers, especially after the incident with losing Morgan

Marriage, defiantly gonna happen.

He's gonna pride himself in being your husband, trust

Morgan Earp *more screaming*

this cutie-

this sweet boy-

you better, and I say this will all the love in my heart for my readers, because y'all mean the world to me, but you better treat him kindly

because things will happen

that are out of your control

and only maybe out of mine yes it was very difficult for me when he passed-

anyway, he's gonna treat you better then anyone ever has and ever will

he is number two on the husband materiel list

he'll be thrilled when you even agree to let him take you out and afterwards you're in a relationship?

he's taking you dancing, he'll buy you presents, compliment you constantly

It's the best day of his life when you agree to marry him, but its quickly replaced by the day you marry him

do me a favor

run into his arms after a long day

take care of him

he needs it

Johnny Ringo the only bad guy I love

oh. you thought Wyatt was hard to get to know.

I need to hold your hand while I say this but, Johnny is so much harder, and it's because of the life he's had. he didn't have a good start to it all

look, I love him and you better be ready for commitment because as soon as you manage to get his attention, he is locked in.

he's quiet, but he listens and if he likes you, he'll let you talk to him, occasionally saying something insightful that lets you know that he really does listen and he really does care

However, at this point he doesn't really declare the nature of your relationship

sure, he gives you pet names, has you on his arm when you 'happen' to run into each other on a night out, actually talks to you, is calmer when your around, and he threatened to shoot a fellow cowboy when he made a comment towards you

he's in love, but he's also scared

so you're gonna have to ask him "are you courting me?" and when you finally get your answer, congrats, your his.

he'll walk you home, he'll buy you drinks, not unusual but now he'll ask to come in and visit and he'll share a drink with you

he gives amazing hugs, wrapping you in his arms when you come to greet him after he and the gang have been out doing who knows what and kissing your temple

marriage, kinda scares him but it also is welcomed

you're a good influence on him and maybe someday, when he's got enough money, you both can settle down somewhere permanently and your gunslinger will retire his ways and become a rancher or something a girl can dream ok?

[rndmmarston]

Doc Holliday X F/Reader

Im Back…AGAIN

Warnings-None(I don’t think)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/Ns Pov

It was a Nice Morning In Tombstone,Hot like usual, Doc Was sitting outside leaned back with his feet Propped up on a chair at the Barber, I walked over to him “Morning” I said as I sat next to him “Morning Darlin’” he said with his eyes closed looking very Relaxed.

I leaned back into my chair and watched the people walk up and down the street, I seen in the Distance Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan, as they were walking,Ringo,One of the cowboys, Came out of the saloon looking very drunk and looking to start trouble, “Well what do we have here…” he said with a slight Slur “What do want Ringo?” Virgil said Putting his hand on his Revolver “I want your blood, and i want your souls and i want them both right now” He said slightly Stumbling over, I stood up and leaned against the railing watching them, After the O.K Corral shoot out things were not going well between the Earp’s and the Cowboys, I looked over at Doc he was still leaning back, now he had pulled his hat down over his face, i guess to keep the sun out of his eyes, “Oh Look who we have over here~” I looked over to realize Ringo was talking to me “Leave her out of this…” Wyatt said stepping forward, Ringo just smiled “Now see, with out your lover here…You ain’t nothing without him…” I just stayed quiet, I seen in the corner of my eye Doc had put his hand over his Gun…He’s listening… “You know…Why are you with him anyways?” he asked me with slurred words “Why are you with a Lunger? Ya know he is gonna die soon…” He said with a Smirk… “Ya know its sad how he isn’t here to protect you…” He said with a smirk

“Just leave her Alone Ringo…” Wyatt said Getting Ringo attentions, As Ringo was looking at Wyatt Doc Stood up and Put his Gun behind his back, He Whistled getting Ringo’s Attention, Ringo’s eyes Widened when he seen him “Ive been here the whole time…” Doc said stepping down “Go to hell…Ill put ya out of your Misery-“ “Say when” Then Curly bill and A few other cowboys came out of the Saloon, As soon as Ringo went to for Doc he got pulled back by the cowboys “Don’t mind him he’s just drunk thats all!” Curly bill said while laughing.

“gentlemen” Doc tipped his hat at the Earp’s and Walked back over to the Barber, I stood there leaning against the railing, He came up to me wrapping his arm around my waist “You Okay Darlin’?” “yeah…Im fine…” “Its okay…Im here to protect you…Don’t listen to anything he says to you…” He says with a slight smile “I wont…Thanks” I said as I leaned up and kisses his cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N- This is a Short story…Its Currently 2:45 Where i am so its not the best i know, Sorry i dont ever post on here <3

•Requests~Open•

[curlysgirl0202]

JOHNNY RINGO/READER STORY CONTINUED...

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

Ringo looks at you and then turns away.

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

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

"Johnny, just come for a short while?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wanted to know why you just left!"

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

Your heart sinks.

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

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

"Tell my why you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You close the door and smile up at your cowboy.

"I do alright. Tips help."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Johnny doesn't respond right away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is she not with anyone?

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

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

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

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

"At least he was decent," you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Josephine Marcus did it," you respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You begin clearing the plates and tea cups.

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

Johnny nods.

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

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

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

"You're welcome." You respond.

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

You lower your head and chuckle.

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

"Johnny, you too," you answer.

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

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

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

He was just a kid...Ringo thinks.

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

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

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

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

Ringo shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

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

He shifts again and looks down at the table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Johnny stands up and barely manages to release the words:

I should go...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please don't go," you plead.

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

Johnny looks down at you.

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

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

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

"You would?" He asks.

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

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

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

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

"I want to," you respond.

He shakes his head while gazing at the floor.

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

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

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

"Thank you," he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He saddles his horse and heads back to camp.

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

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

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

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

"What the hell that for?" Ike groans.

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

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

"Go easy, Ringo!" Billy Clanton barks.

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

Curly Bill, along with McMasters and Stilwell swagger over.

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

"Y'all cool off!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take their orders and head to the kitchen.

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

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

"What's wrong, Fatty?" You ask

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

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

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

"I just took their orders," you respond.

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

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

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

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

"You forget already?" He fires at you.

"No...I just..."

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

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

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

Dalton turns to look at the menacing group of Cowboys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Dalton boys stand, clearly outnumbered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Absolutely!" You tell him.

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

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

"I really appreciate that," you respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Johnny Ringo smiling? The Cowboys ponder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"When?" You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You move through the tables.

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

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

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

"Johnny!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wyatt nurses his beer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I shouldn't have touched her!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did he say anything?" You inquire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Curly Bill approaches you and helps you off your horse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Johnny! Please!"

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

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

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

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

Did I just lose her? His mind screams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once he drains the bottle, he falls asleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, I was hoping I could -"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I suppose," Ringo snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Anything else I can bring you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Johnny!"

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

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

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

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

*Reckon he ain't," Barnes answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just keep that rotgut coming, Annie!"

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

Ringo scoffs while Injun Buck, the bouncer steps forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ringo does the best he can to remain composed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Johnny checks the cinch.

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

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

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

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

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

"Where's Barnes?" He groans.

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

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

Billy and Ike glance at each other with uneasy looks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Barnes back up just a bit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Curly Bill hurries over, taking long strides.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Juanito," he stumbles.

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

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

Barnes turns. "You're losing your damn mind, Ringo!" Barnes shouts. "She ain't yours! She ain't nobody's! And iffin' I want to talk to her, I am!"

"I guess you didn't hear me," Ringo says, locking eyes with Barnes.

Ringo moves to charge at Barnes, who moves out of the way quickly.

Curly Bill grabs Ringo by the collar and shoves his head into a large bucket of washing water. Then Curly Bill tosses Ringo aside. For an older Cowboy, Curly Bill could still take down a man twice his size. The Cowboys saw Curly Bill fight plenty of times; the old rustler was quick and fearless, throwing a man to the ground with a few swings. Ringo knew not to get into a scuffle with Curly Bill.

"Damn sons a bitches!" Ringo groans, drool falling from his open mouth. *Ain't none a you good enough! At least I saw that!" Ringo runs his hands through his damp hair and staggers to his feet. He looks at Curly Bill, but hesitates as he almost falls backwards.

"Don't ever do that again, Bill!"

"I'll do whatever damn thing I gotta do to keep this outfit!" Curly Bill shouted. "And right now, y'all need to cool off, Ringo! You taking this thing with that little lady too far now! Ya told her you don't wanna see her, that ain't no one's fault! It don't make no nevermind now!"

Johnny Ringo sits back down, rubbing his eyes with his palms. Then he slowly stands, puffing his chest out, attempting to maintain some stoicism. He puts his hat back on and adjusts it just right. Then he fumbles indignantly through the drawers of the chuck wagon until he finds bottles of whiskey. He grabs one, pulls the cork out with his teeth and takes a swig.

"Drink or off, hell, sleep it off, son!" Curly Bill growls.

Ringo retreats to his tent. He tosses the cork aside and continues to nurse the whiskey. It burns while it splashes against his throat. He swallows hard. He can hear Curly Bill's voice boom over camp. "Damn fool! Spendin' too much damn time readin' and thinkin'! That's his damn problem. He was alright with hisself before that little lady showed up. Playing with his head! Iffin' if I was Ringo, I'd already have that woman right here with me! Or away from you smelly cowboys! I'd never let her outta my damn sight. I'd be keeping her real close! Wouldn't let other fellas near her. She'd be real safe with me! Ringo pissing away something real good thinking he ain't good enough and all! Don't make a lick a sense!"

Ringo drowns out Curly's words while he continues to pound whiskey. Johnny pulls some paper out of his journal and begins to write...

YN,

All my life I've been searching for something I could grab onto. Something I could keep and hold...For all my life. Then when you smiled, the darkness in my heart felt a slow ember burning. I am reminded of the blood on my hands and my name. Not fit for a woman like you. No matter how much I want you, I cannot keep you from the life you truly deserve.

Love,

Johnny Ringo

He folds the letter and keeps it in his pocket. The tears flooding his eyes cause the area to grow blurry. He quickly wipes his eyes and gazes at the frontier around him. He wants to storm that damn restaurant, take you out of that kitchen and ride away with you.

We could live out in the desert for a day or two, I'd keep us safe from grizzlies and those red devils that dominate the sand. But then she'd see how I live...I ain't got nothing to offer her...

And his dream fades like cigar smoke in a saloon.

Johnny's eyes grow so weary from the rot gut and the memory of you pouring coffee for Barnes. He closes his eyes and begins to dream...

He sees you in a flower field; you're twirling along with the dandelion fuzz and butterflies that whirl with a soft breeze. You turn and you see Johnny standing there. Without hesitation, you run towards him and before he can feel you fall into his arms, you turn away and fade into the sun...

Ringo awakens and kicks the dirt around him. He can feel his mind and heart sink into a dark place again...The fear of losing you becomes clear and real...

You awaken to the sound of birds singing while the flow of a warm breeze moves through the trees. Johnny Ringo's face appears in your mind and you turn your head away, letting a tear fall from your tired eyes. You still can't believe Johnny tossed you aside after everything you experienced together.

Your bare feet hit the floor and you stretch and prepare for your day. Another one of taking orders and serving up chuck at the hotel restaurant. Once dressed and ready, you head out to hitch Daisy. Daisy greets you with a whinny and her head bops in genuine excitement.

"Oh, Daisy!" You allow her warm fur to wipe your tears and she moves her head towards yours. "I'm leaving! I'm going! I never should have come here!"

You suck back your tears and get Daisy hitched. The ride into town seems longer now and you barely notice the carpet of wildflowers busting through the ground.

You sob all the way to the hotel. People move up and down the street, men carry sacks or saddles, women carrying baskets and gentlemen and riff raff alike strut down the sidewalks, looking for entertainment.

Amos is reading a dime novel when you approach the livery. He quickly stands and adjusts his hat.

"Mornin', ma'am!" He drawls, tucking his shirt back in his pants. "Mighty fine too, I reckon."

You smile and allow Amos to take Daisy.

"You alright, ma'am? You look kinda down?"

"Just didn't sleep well."

"My ma says I got a real knack for readin' folks. When they're having a bad day and all!"

"Your ma's a smart lady." You chuckle.

"Reckon she was! Till the pox got a hold of her. Hell, ain't much happy 'round! Sorry for proddin'. I'll take care of Daisy for you!"

You nod and walk slowly up the steps to the hotel restaurant.

A few people sit at the tables, enjoying coffee or reading the newspaper.

You can hear Fatty singing in the kitchen. You wander into the kitchen area and wrap your apron around your shoulders and waist.

You gaze at the small chalkboard to check the special.

"Hotcakes and sausage."

Fatty flips pancakes while turning sausage links over in a sizzling pan. You hear more people enter, you grab your pad and pencil and head to tables. Patrons order the usual; steak, eggs, biscuits and honey. Others order the hotcakes special and some just eggs and bacon.

You bring steaming plates of breakfast to the hungry customers and hope the day moves quickly.

In the kitchen, Fatty shouts at Big Nellie, "can't you wait until after breakfast?" You see Nellie helping herself to fresh pancakes, folding them in half so she can eat them quickly. You scoff under your breath.

"We need more biscuits, Fatty," you tell the older cook.

"How can I make biscuits when Big Nellie is eating half the hotcakes?! You see how much work I have to do? Make pancakes, make sausage, cook steak and eggs!"

You shake your head. "Damnit, Big Nellie! Put the plate down and get to those biscuits! I've got a lobby full of people to take care of!"

Big Nellie backs away for a moment, taken aback by your sudden aggression.

Big Nellie measures flour, mumbling under her breath. You grab a full coffee pot and move around the kitchen, pouring hot coffee into cups. Customers tip their hats or nod with gratitude.

When you return to the kitchen, Nellie avoids looking at you. Fatty wipes his fat face with his apron and nods.

"Two more specials and one steak and eggs, biscuits and honey!" You respond, placing dirty dishes in the sink.

"Another few people just came in!" You tell Fatty, who is mixing pancake batter.

Nellie places hot biscuits on a large plate and you grab three, placing them on the plates you're taking to the restaurant.

"Here you are!" You declare to the customers who smile and nod.

You gaze out the window, wondering if Johnny Ringo will find a reason to enjoy breakfast at the restaurant. But you just notice the usual bustle of townspeople moving through town. You blow the air out of your lungs, run your hands through your hair and move back to the kitchen to gather more orders.

Emmet lights up a cigar and puffs on it while closing the door to the restaurant. You survived the breakfast rush and sit at a table, nibbling a biscuit while sipping coffee. You can feel your heart sink. You suck back your tears and finish off your coffee. The idea of taking the next train out grows more appealing.

Serves him right! You think to yourself.

You recall the moments you enjoyed together. How he opened up to you and the intimate time you shared. How he kissed you and made you feel like the only woman in the world. His tender touch and the perfect love you thought you shared. He came to your cottage and enjoyed pie with you. Then he discarded you; using his past and internal darkness to throw you aside so he can wallow in his own self pity. You showed him he didn't need to experience fear or guilt when in your presence. You showed him devotion and perseverance; you worked at the ice cream parlor, then the restaurant until you saved enough dough to buy Daisy and rent that cottage. All so you could show him how far you would go to show your love.

And he threw it away...

You fear you won't see him again and that hits you harder than anything...

"Oh, Johnny..." You whisper.

Fatty comes to your table. "I need your help in the kitchen. Big Nellie just eats the leftovers!"

"Sure," you respond. You take your plate and coffee cup to the kitchen. You check the bread dough and it's rising beautifully. You take the dough and make a few loaves for the oven.

While fresh bread bakes in the oven, you help Fatty prepping with chopping vegetables for a stew while Fatty cuts up fresh beef.

Big Nellie returns from the ice cream parlor, her mouth full of strawberry ice cream. You roll your eyes and return your attention to the vegetables.

"Check the bread, Nellie," you say in a commanding voice. Nellie moves through the kitchen, finding her apron and tying it in the back. She still seems sore from your admonishment of her laziness from the morning. But she gets to work on the bread.

Fatty takes a piece of chalk and writes the lunch special on the chalkboard.

Lunch Special:

Chicken and dumplings.

"I'll get started on the dumpling, Fatty," you declare, hoping the businesses of your work will distract you from your thoughts about Johnny...

Outside of Tombstone, Morton and Dalton sit outside a shack.

"That damn Johnny Ringo owes us money and we'll either get it or beat it out of him!" He drawls while a cigarette dangles from his mouth. Morton, a tall man with deep blue eyes and dark blond hair, gazes into the small fire burning. "Word has it he likes to be alone sometimes. Away from those damn cowboys."

"You ain't afraid of Curly Bill Brocius or Frank Stillwell?" Dalton asks, his gaze on the frontier. Dalton, although shorter than Morton held himself with great stature. His dark eyes move over Morton while he chews a toothpick. His worn face shows the lines of violence and vengeance.

"Not if we get all the boys together!" Morton grunts. "The sooner the better! Get some scouts to follow that gunfighter around. He'll slip and when he does, we'll be ready for him."

Dalton nods and tosses his toothpick aside. Then he grabs a bottle of fire water and uncorks it slowly. "We'll bleed that money out of him." He says cooly.

[fanficdumbchic]

Hey there!! Can you write another funny story about Curly Bill?

Sure thing Anon.

Curly Bill Tries for a High Class Lady (Epic Fail)

sfw - Tombstone (1996) - Curly Bill x Fem. Reader (funny) - HC

The most basic cultural references you make go right over his head, the only thing this man is completely is a fucking idiot.

He literally makes the most crass jokes about women and insists they shouldn't vote. Plot twist, he is still wholeheartedly surprised when you want nothing to do with him.

If he sees you out at the saloon, he immediately strolls up with his cringe swagger and tries to pester you. When you finally have had enough and throw a drink in his face, he turns around to his gang mates and proudly proclaims, "I told you she likes me!" This bitch is straight delulu.

Another common way you run into him in public is catching a glimpse of him passed out in the filth behind the saloon, whimpering about how he's an 'alpha male' and women aren't smart enough to recognize it. He's a one man podcast among the trash bins (where he belongs).

One night after Bill tries again to woo you (unsuccessfully of course), Johnny Ringo approaches and asks you to play along just a little because his friend 'really needs a win'. You refuse and Ringo completely understands.

One night in the saloon during an opium-shortage, Bill literally passes out on the floor having violently shit himself. (It's like that scene with Spud in Trainspotting except Bill 100% deserves it and no one pities him.) The bartender literally has to shoe Bill out with a push broom.

One time, an actress temporarily in town with a traveling theater group is so repulsed by Bill when he approaches her, that she has to excuse herself so she can vomit out of public view. (It was partially the smell, partially Bill himself.)

You overhear his gang talking behind his back from time to time: "God, he is so pathetic." "He is such a fucking embarrassment." "Should we just kill him and then let Ringo lead the gang?"

[mitchipedia]

My favorite movies of 2024 (third try posting, trying to correct egregious formatting errors)

Home for the Holidays (1996). Holly Hunter, a mid-30s single mother and museum curator, flies home to visit her family on Thanksgiving and finds her family is painfully weird, and she doesn’t fit in. But then everything clicks for her.

I saw this movie when it first came out and once or twice more in the late 90s, but not since then. This time, I had the insight that this is a coming-of-age movie about Holly Hunter’s character leaving her young adulthood behind her. By the end of the movie, she is no longer an adult trying to fit into her childhood home. She’s just an adult visiting her family.

The movie has great writing, direction by Jodie Foster, and is well-acted by a wonderful cast: In addition to Hunter, we have Anne Bancroft, Charles Durning, pre-rehab Robert Downey Jr., Dylan McDermott, Geraldine Chaplin and middle-aged Steve Guttenberg.

I could do a scene-by-scene discussion of this movie. But I’ll stop here.

Tombstone (1993). Val Kilmer gets praise as Doc Holliday, and he deserves it, but also spare some praise for the late great Powers Boothe, who chews the scenery magnificently as the villainous Curly Bill Brocius.

Another main villain of the movie, Johnny Ringo, played by Michael Biehn, is a nihilist. Ringo hates himself and the world. Curly Bill loves the world and loves life and takes joy in cruelty.

In that way, Curly Bill is a lot like Spike from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

Wolfs (2024) George Clooney and Brad Pitt are two mob fixers called to cover up a crime scene. They are lone wolves, forced to work together. The ending is confusing at first, but I gathered later that this movie was intended as the first of two parts. And now, the second part will never be made because of a dispute with Apple. Still worth watching.

The Big Sleep (1946). Bogey, as detective Philip Marlowe, solves crimes and sparks with Lauren Bacall. The storyline of this movie is legendarily complicated and confusing; at one point, the director called author Raymond Chandler from the set to find out who committed one of the murders and Chandler responded lol idk.

The Fabelmans (2022). Supposedly a fictionalized autobiography by Stephen Spielberg, but he later said everything in it is true.

Interstellar (2014). Matthew McConaughey in spaaaaaaace. A rare movie where he does not say “alright alright alright.” Now I know where this meme comes from.

Fall Guy. Comedy-drama starring Ryan Gosling as a stuntman called on to do something involving solving a crime. I don’t remember the specifics, but I remember the movie was fun.

Batman Begins. I saw this one on a plane years ago and hated it. We watched it on the big TV in the living room in 2024, and I liked it. It turns out that watching a movie on a six-inch screen while slightly nauseated is not the best way to appreciate cinema.

White House Down. Die Hard in the White House starring Channing Tatum.

The Accountant. Ben Affleck is a forensic accountant and lethal mercenary. Ridiculous premise, but surprisingly good and occasionally even heartwarming.

Which reminds me: I forgot a book on my 2024 favorite books list: The Bezzle, by Cory Doctorow, the second in his Marty Hench series, which also features a hardboiled forensic accountant.

It turns out that “hardboiled forensic accountant” is a genre.

Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F. 2024 Sequel to the popular Eddie Murphy movies of the 80s. It does what it says on the tin.

Farewell, My Lovely Robert Mitchum is Philip Marlowe in this 1975 movie with Charlotte Rampling, Sylvia Miles, Harry Dean Stanton, and Jack O’Halloran (most famous for Superman II) as Moose Malloy.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes and War for the Planet of the Apes. But not Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, which didn’t click for me.

Road House. Jake Gyllenhaal beats people. Fun, great music and scenic Florida locations. You did not think remaking the bad 80s Patrick Swayze original would be a good idea, but you were wrong.

American Fiction. Comedy-drama about a Black, button-down professor fed up with woke culture who uses a pen name to write a super-woke fraudulent memoir and is caught up in a maelstrom when the book becomes a runaway bestseller.

I hate saying “woke,” but I can’t think of anything else here.

The trailer does a good job of capturing the movie’s intelligence and humor but does not capture the story’s surprising heart.

This is not an anti-woke movie, despite the premise. I would not recommend an anti-woke movie.

Mr. Holmes. Ian McKellen plays an aged Sherlock Holmes, struggling with dementia, living in the country, tending his bees and reconstructing the specifics of a case that drove him away from London and into retirement three decades before.

The Emperor’s New Clothes. What if Napoleon escaped from exile on St. Helena and returned to France to raise an army and reclaim his throne, but instead failed to contact his underground network of supporters and had to go undercover as a common grocer?

American Fiction and The Emperor’s New Clothes are testimonies to the value of committing to the bit. You take a slight premise — something that by rights should be nothing more than a Saturday Night Live skit — take it seriously, follow it through to its conclusion, and it can come out great.

Stage Door. 1937 comedy-drama starring Katharine Hepburn, Ginger Rogers, Adolphe Menjou and, in a small role, Lucille Ball, about young struggling actresses living in a boarding house in New York.

The Maltese Falcon. Humphrey Bogart as Sam Spade. I think I saw this only once before, on a little kitchen-table black-and-white TV around 1980. I missed so much. Much of the action is in the characters' faces and body language.

The Six Triple Eight. A Black Women’s Air Corps battalion during World War II is called on to sort millions of pieces of personal mail for soldiers. The mail has been stored in warehouses since the beginning of the war. The movie makes it clear that personal mail is not a luxury; it is essential to keeping up morale for soldiers and their families.

As one of the heroes notes, these women are fighting two wars, one against Hitler and another against flagrant white racism.

Kerry Washington gives a great performance as Captain Charity Adams, who commands the platoon with an erect spine and stentorian voice. Her goals are two-fold: To deliver on the mission of delivering the mail, and prove that Black women are up to the task. Her nemesis is General Halt, a fat, bald racist Southerner who seems to despise Adams and her battalion more than he hates Hitler. Halt is portrayed with delicious awfulness by Dean Norris from Breaking Bad. I could barely stand to look at him by the end of the movie.

Desk Set. Katharine Hepburn heads up the research department of a TV network and is threatened by Spencer Tracy, a consultant hired to bring in a computer. I was delighted to see that the computer in this 1952 movie behaved exactly like a 2024 LLM: give it a question in plain English and you get an answer that’s clear, credible and likely to be wrong. Spoiler for a 73-year-old movie: Tracy’s character explains at the end that the computer is not there to replace the researchers but to free the researchers up for more valuable work. This is exactly what AI companies tell us here in 2024.

The set for the computer is brilliant — so many blinkenlights! The pieces of the computer, including the blinkenlights panel, were later used in the movie and TV show Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. This computer is my mental ideal of how computers ought to look.

Woman of the Year. Hepburn and Tracy again. There were a couple of moderately racist gags in the beginning that threw me off for a bit, and I never quite recovered because Tracy’s character is a dishrag. Still, it makes my favorites list because of the snappy dialogue and cinematography and because it’s Hepburn and Tracy.

His Girl Friday. Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in a heartwarming romcom about two awful people who find true love with each other.

[cowboys-of-tombstone]

So. Very. Close.😭

[rock-n-macabre]

The three personalities...heck, could even be the three stages.... of 'while listening to a conversation'.

[txmbstone]

Hi lovely!!

Will you write a head cannon about Curly Bill Johnny Ringo hurt the reader's feelings...🙏💕

Ooo we already starting this one out strong. I’m such a sucker for anything angst (just ask my cowriter on our other blog I’ve got emotional breakdowns to a science at this point) so this was such a fun one to do. This is going to be a female centered POV

Curly Bill Brocius

Since you’d met, he’d always claim you were the one for him. There wouldn’t have been any other

You always believed him. He always seemed so head-over-heels in love just seeing you walk up to his tent, compliment your every outfit no matter how dirty or torn it was, calling you his starlight every chance he could. Nothing you could have done would have turned him away

It seemed you both were in it for the long haul

Until you caught him in a brothel with another woman

She was everything you weren’t

Where your skin was calloused from years out on a ranch, she was smooth as butter. Where you were stout and toned, she was thin and delicate.

You heart sunk and shattered when he uttered your nickname to her

You couldn’t take it any more, turning on your heel and racing off into the night.

You couldn’t believe him. After everything you shared, all you’d done, every silly little fight and every dance he swept you up in was nothing but a lie. Every memory shared under the canopy of the stars, whispering futures of fortune and fame to the heavens, and he had thrown it all away

Johnny Ringo

Johnny was never an emotional man. So much more reserved compared to the loose cannons the Cowboys were infamous for. But not your Johnny. Never. Always the reserved man, the first to arrive and the first to leave. Never sticking around too long where he knows he wasn’t needed. It’s just how he was.

You loved him for it. Loved how he was the eye in the hurricane the Cowboys would bring through Tombstone. He was the roll of gentle thunder after a flash of lightning, the wind coaxing the beginning flames of a forest fire.

You only ever saw his resolve break when Billy died.

You try to lure him back to the tent, back to the comfort of your arms, and it’s a war to fight back the sinking in your heart when he shoves you away.

“Get off me. Can’t you see I don’t want you here?”

Fuck…that…

That hurt more than any bullet could

You don’t bother to shoot back a snarky reply — your heart and pride too wounded to even conjure up one — instead choosing to brush at dirt you know isn’t there on your coat and spin on your heel back to your tent.

You know he didn’t truly mean it. He never could. Not after he promised you the sun and stars. The heavens and the earth. But the anger, the hate, that flooded his features towards you was too much for your already fracturing heart to bear.

Wow this one feels like it kind of sucked. Writing has been hella difficult lately, so I’m sorry this isn’t as good as I could have made it to be. I am working on a few projects so hopefully those will redeem me

[famousnerdtragedy]

Bella Hart’s Reckoning

In the rugged and unforgiving expanse of the Wild West, Bella Hart emerged as a figure of both awe and mystery. Her arrival in Tombstone—a town rife with lawlessness and intrigue—was marked by a blend of anticipation and trepidation. Known for her unparalleled skill with a pistol and an unshakable spirit, Bella quickly captured the attention of two of the most notorious figures in the region: Curly Bill Brocius and Johnny Ringo.

Curly Bill, the flamboyant and audacious leader of the Cowboys, was the first to approach Bella. His reputation for wild ambition and brazen disregard for the law made him a force to be reckoned with. One evening, Curly Bill, always seeking to expand his influence, found Bella at the Longhorn Saloon, where she sat alone, savoring her whiskey and the solitude of the moment.

“Bella Hart,” Curly Bill greeted her with a grin that barely concealed his calculating intent. “Word is you’re one of the best around. How about joining forces? I could use someone with your skills to help me run this town.”

Bella met his gaze with a steady, measured look. “I don’t align myself with anyone’s cause, Curly Bill. I’m here for my own reasons.”

Curly Bill’s offer was met with a polite but firm refusal. Undeterred, he retreated with the promise of future encounters, convinced that he could sway her to his side eventually.

Johnny Ringo, a more reserved yet equally formidable figure, soon took an interest in Bella. Known for his sharp intellect and keen sense of strategy, Ringo approached Bella with a different angle. Unlike Curly Bill, Ringo’s approach was subtle and nuanced, reflecting his desire to appeal to Bella’s sense of independence rather than her greed.

One afternoon, as Bella walked through the dusty streets of Tombstone, she encountered Ringo. His eyes, sharp and calculating, fixed on her with an intensity that spoke of his interest.

“Bella,” Ringo began, his voice smooth and measured, “I’ve heard much about your talents. I’m not here to offer gold or power but rather an opportunity. Join me, and you can carve out a legacy of your own making. Together, we can achieve something significant.”

Bella’s expression remained inscrutable. “Why would I consider joining you, Johnny Ringo? I’m not looking for alliances.”

Ringo’s smile was faint but sincere. “Because you deserve more than just surviving. I offer you the chance to make a name for yourself, free from the constraints of others.”

Despite the allure of his offer, Bella Hart remained steadfast. She was not interested in aligning with anyone, whether Curly Bill or Ringo. Her focus was on her own goals, and she navigated the challenges of Tombstone with a blend of cunning and skill.

Over time, Bella’s presence became a symbol of defiance in a town dominated by the Cowboys. Her refusal to be swayed by either Curly Bill’s bold promises or Ringo’s subtle appeals only enhanced her reputation. Bella’s interactions with both men were characterized by a careful balance of respect and distance, as she continued to carve out her own path.

The story of Bella Hart reached its resolution not through a dramatic clash of rivalries but through her quiet and decisive exit from Tombstone. Recognizing that her presence had stirred enough interest and that her involvement in the town’s power dynamics could lead to unforeseen complications, Bella chose to leave rather than become entangled in the struggles of others.

As she rode out of Tombstone, the setting sun casting long shadows over the desert landscape, Bella Hart’s silhouette was a testament to her unwavering independence and strength. Her legacy lived on, not as a pawn in the games of Curly Bill or Johnny Ringo but as a symbol of a woman who forged her own destiny in the untamed Wild West.