In A Mess

“Damn it all, lady! This ain’t what I signed up for.” His back was turned to the striking red head while returning fire with the band of marauders across the street.

She was loading the Winchester he’d handed her seconds ago. “Well, I didn’t know they were going to follow me!” She screamed. “It’s not my fault I’m a better poker player. I won that money fair and square.”

He took the rifle she handed him and gave her the pistol, raising his voice over the loud shots.. “You shoulda known they wouldn’t take kindly to losing to a woman. And you shoulda told me what you wanted protection from. I woulda at least been prepared and taken us a different way through the desert. Instead of just ramblin’ along out in the open.”

Shots continued to hit the outside of the mercantile building they’d taken shelter in. Some windows were shattered during the first few shots. Those that hadn’t been, the cowboy busted, so he had multiple locations to defend from.

The red head laid the loaded pistol within the cowboy’s reach. “I only asked you to escort me because I didn’t want to cross the countryside alone. Between the Indians and outlaws I didn’t think it would be smart for a woman to be out there by herself.” She yelled, piling the remaining bullets in a small heap next to her.

“We’re almost out of bullets.” Her voice was just loud enough for him to hear.

Leaning against the bags of grain he’d stacked along the walls as a second barrier against the heavy gunfire, he studied her. Lips swollen from biting them. “We’re in a gosh durn general store. They more than likely have some behind the counter. Why don’t you go over there and look?” She must be more rattled about the predicament they were in than he thought. That surprised him. “And keep your backside down. You don’t want to get it shot off.”

He enjoyed the view as she scrambled across the floor of the general store and behind the heavy wood counter. “Smart, feisty and easy to look at, I’m asking for trouble.” Mumbling to himself.

“I found some!” She yelled at him.

“Find something to put ‘em in and get back over here.”

Reaching for the empty crate above her, the rifles for sale on the wall caught her eye. She filled the crate with as many boxes of bullets as she thought she could push back to the store front.

“Okay, I can do this.” She said with a deep sigh.

The red head stood up and grabbed the rifle she recognized. It would replace the one she’d lost in the sandstorm days ago.

“Hurry up! What’s takin’ you so long?” The cowboy hollered.

With the rifle across the top of the crate, she pushed her items back to him. “I got as many as I could and I found a rifle to replace my old one.” She told him.

He handed her his empty rifle which he’d loaded again with the pile she’d left. “Here, load this first.” He pulled a box from the crate and reloaded the pistol. “We can’t keep doin’ this. There’s gotta be a way outta here. Two against seven ain’t good odds.”

Both rifles now loaded, the red head looked around the store. She felt sorry for the owners. There wouldn’t be much left to sell once this was over. Feathers hung in the air from pillows and bedding that had been ripped apart by flying bullets. Juices from pickles and fruit jars streamed down the shelves behind the register. The beautiful bolts of material and laces were scattered across the floor and covered with dust from damaged grain bags, black soot from the stove pipe and other damaged homeware and supplies. Bullet holes were everywhere.

When she spotted a wooden crate on the floor in the back corner. The owner must have just received it recently for it to still be inside. It was too dangerous not to be stored somewhere else.

“Dynamite!” She yelled.

He turned to her, his forehead wrinkled. “What?”

Pointing to the far dark corner, she yelled again. “Dynamite! That will get rid of them.”

Following the red head’s finger, he saw it and was as surprised as she was. It’s a wonder a stray bullet hadn’t already found its way to it and blown them to pieces.

“Here.” He said, handing her one of the rifles. “Keep shooting. I’ll go take a look.” She reached for the long gun. Her fingers brushed his. Her touch soft against his calloused ones. “Be careful. Keep your head down. I’ll be right back.” He told her before surrendering the rifle.

When her fingers touched his, her breath hitched. “I will.” She whispered, watching him leave before moving to the window closest to her. Her heart pounded in her chest. Resting the end of the rifle on the window ledge she returned fire while the cowboy ran across the store in a slump to the box of dynamite.

“I better not do this out in the open.” Talking to himself. They’d been lucky so far the box hadn’t been hit. He wanted to continue that streak.

He pushed the heavy box to the next room before prying open the top with his hunting knife. Removing the top layer of torn paper to reveal thick red sticks underneath. He grabbed several and stuffed them inside his shirt, replaced the lid and stacked other merchandise around it. Keeping it as safe as possible.

Starting back he saw the red head reloading. He needed to hurry. Moving behind the counter, he searched until he found the other item he needed. Matches.

Arriving back at the window unscathed, he pulled out a stick and asked her. “You okay?”

“Yes, but if we are gonna get outta here, I would like to get moving.” She told him with a little smile. It caused his britches to tighten. Maybe later he could kiss that smile. If they made it out of here.

“Then what do you say we give them a little surprise?” He asked her, wiggling the stick of dynamite in his hand.

“Can you see where they are without getting your head shot off?”

Peering over the window, she answered. “Looks like most of them are on the boardwalk behind a wagon and the horse trough. If you can throw it right out in front of you, you’ll probably get most of them.”

“Okay then, let’s see how much damage we can do. You ready?”

The red head looked at him, nodding her head.

“Cover your head and stay down. I’m gonna count to three, then throw it.”

He struck the match against the wall. The fuse sparked and sizzled when he touched it. “One. Two. Three!” The cowboy popped up and threw the stick out the window straight at the men. The red head was already on the floor when he covered her with his body. Protecting her as best he could.

Their bodies absorbed the percussion of the blast. The red head prayed the building didn’t fall on them as debris rained down.

When the cowboy rose to see how accurate his throw had been, he pushed and brushed bits of the destruction away, The building across the street was destroyed. He didn’t see one man left standing.

They’d done it.

The red head sat up in front of him taking in the destruction. Her hands flicked the dust from her clothes. “There’s not much left is there?”

“Nope.” He said

“Guess that means we can get outta here.” She stated and raised her green eyes to him.

He looked at her and wondered if he could dive into them. Weathered hands reached for her. Lowering his head he whispered against her lips.

“Yep.”

When their lips met, she moaned.

The cowboys blood ran hot and he couldn’t wait to get her alone and take all night to celebrate today’s victory.