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cowboys-of-tombstone · 11 months

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It Started With a Letter (Johnny Ringo x Holliday!Reader) 2/3

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Hours later you returned home with high spirits. All the usual customers arrived with cheerful attitudes and hardly any drunken shenanigans were made. You enclosed the door to your home and as you started towards your room, you saw Doc sitting in one of your chairs in the living room. The dim light from a nearby candle painted him in a ghastly appearance. Though you could barely see him, you could make out his cold gaze towards you, even without such an expression present.

“John, what are you doin’ up at this hour? You need to rest with your condition, you know?” You asked as you carefully approached the chair adjacent to Doc.

“How courteous,” Doc chuckled as he crossed his legs, “but I’m fine, thank you. I was hopin’ to have a short word, if you don’t mind.”

Your eyes closed tightly and your lips pinched even tighter. That brother of yours just wouldn’t let up. A small forced smile graced your lips as you motioned Doc to continue.

As he lightly dabbed the sweat from his face, he said, “Perhaps I had not made myself as clear. I am only lookin’ out for your safety.”

“Whatever do you mean? I thought we were both plenty clear on our stances when you told me how you felt about my friend earlier today.”

“I admit I was a bit unreasonable, but that was because I was so caught off keister. Even you’d have to agree, for someone like Johnny Ringo to step through your front door like that, would be a shock to anyone.”

You squint one eye as you asked, “Oh? You were just shocked, is all? So you don’t mind my friendship with Johnny, then? Now that the shock has worn off?”

“Now wait just a moment-”

“Hmph,” you quickly cut to the point, “just as I thought, we are in the exact spot we left ourselves in earlier, John. I had hoped, despite my better judgment, that you had come to be civil as a guest in my home.”

“Why, Dear Sister, I have the utmost intentions to be civil, all I am askin’ is for you to reconsider your relationship to that Johnny Ringo.”

“John Henry Holliday, what is the matter with you? It’s not as if we’re married or somethin’!”

“Sister, I have the consumption, not blindness. I was in town and I saw the way you both were meanderin’ about.”

Your teeth boor into your bottom lip, “Meanderin’?! You damn, dullard, he was walkin’ me to work like he always does! You’d know that if you didn’t make a fool out of yourself and me!”

Doc’s stern glare broke with a subtle shift of the eyes. The thick air rang in your ears as you both sat in utter silence.

Doc wetted his chapped lips as he finally said, “Perhaps I made an error of judgment.”

“To put it lightly, for sure.” You replied, barely containing both your righteousness and exasperation.

Doc ascended from his seat as he sighed, “I’d prefer if you didn’t see him, entirely. He’s very dangerous, after all.”

Pushing from his seat, Doc began to make his way to the guest room. Just as he was about to vanish in the darkness, you uttered, “Anymore dangerous than you?” The clicking of his boots stopped for just a moment before disappearing with the sound of the squealing door.

Although you were left alone again, a certain sense of self satisfaction arose within you as you skipped to the candle and blew it out with a kiss.

------------------

“A walk you say?” you asked as you and Johnny finished your cups of coffee.

Even though Doc had his opinions on your friendship with Johnny Ringo, the three of you compromised by simply having the two gunslingers avoid each other entirely. If by chance, Doc came home when you two were together, an awkward, but brief, silence would pass until he went about his business.

“Sure, it ain’t too hot out. Might be fun too.” Johnny added as he leaned back into his chair. Needing only a short time to consider, you happily agreed to Johnny’s proposal.

“I can’t find a reason to say no! Let me go put on somethin’ more comfortable and we’ll head out!”

To stay comfortable on this trip through the Arizona wilderness, you chose a thin blue dress that reached just above your ankles. Its material was flexible enough to not feel constricting, and provided room to move about freely. To go with the dress, you chose some practical ankle high boots that you used to work in your garden, or anywhere else for that matter, to keep your feet from being bloody nubs when the job was done. You finished lacing your boots and hopped off your bed. As you met with Johnny in the front room, he rubbed his chin with a smile.

“What’cha think?” You asked as you had a quick spin around.

“Ya look good.” He nodded as he looked away in an attempt to hide the heat radiating from his cheeks. Seeing Johnny glow like that threw you off, and yet, you felt your chest flutter from it. He always held his cards close to himself. Even when he told you what he was feeling, it was hard to know if he really meant it or not. Now, as he attempted to wipe away his shame, you had a glimpse of what he can really feel.

Not wanting to get too distracted, and perhaps to save Johnny from his own mild embarrassment, you nudged, “Well, I suppose you lead the way then! I’m curious about where you want to go.”

“I think you’ll like it. I know I did.” he replied as he casually made his way to your front door.

Out into the fresh air, awaited Johnny’s horse. As you approached, its pink snout sniffed you curiously. Carefully, you reached out and patted its velvet nostrils and lips. The horse’s warm breath blew into your palms without a hint of distrust. You eased into holding its face and neck, and in turn, it began to rest its head into you.

“I think he likes you.” Johnny said as he drummed his steed’s belly.

“He’s very gentle.” You noted while the horse quietly knickered.

“Well, despite bein’ the horse of a Cowboy, he’s his own beast for sure. Rides as good as anyone else’s in the worst of times, but he’d never hurt a fly.”

“Maybe it’s because he knows you take good care of him.” you winked while Johnny lifted you onto his horse.

“Thanks, I try to take care of those I’m close to.” Johnny sighed as he hopped on the front end of the saddle.

You thought about what he meant by that as he snapped the reigns of his horse. The beat of horseshoes against the ground was soothing, and as you listened, you relaxed your head against his back. A gentle heat emitted from his jacket that lulled you half asleep. He curiously did nothing as you leaned against him, but his tense, fibrous muscles welcomed your gentle touch.

The town drifted away along the waves of the sandy ocean. As you continued along a sparsely used trail, the sand began to subside. Red rocks sprouted where the sand had ended, leading to massive stone structures and pathways, all carved out by millions of years of time.

For you, it was like you were in a bubble, away from the worries of the world at large. A time capsule that showed a past, and perhaps a future untouched by Man. For Johnny, it was as if he were guarding an ancient treasure for eternity and you were its golden centerpiece, a sacred chalice in this forgotten land.

Eventually the hypnotic ride was too much and soon you continued such reveries in your sleep, succumbing to Johnny’s heat. Johnny, on the other hand, had his mind revving like a locomotive.

Unbeknownst to you, Johnny had spent a lot of time self-reflecting about the night with the drunken patron. He recalled how enraged he was when that drunk bastard laid his hands on you, how ready he was willing to kill; not for himself, nor his gang, but so that you were safe. He reminisced about how you wrapped your arms around him and let all your frustrations fall onto his coat. Surprised as he was at your actions, Johnny felt something akin to sparklers running up and down his body at the same time. His face and hands glowed red but remained hidden from you. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since someone hugged him so deeply, so tightly. It felt like all the wrongs in the whole world were made right once again in the single moment.

After you were brought safely home, that strange night, Johnny returned to The Cowboy’s camp alone. As he watched the campfire dance, the smoldering heat crept onto him. So too, was a single realization that choked him like a noose: he not only had feelings for you, but he had them for a while, and just didn’t know it up until that point.

Before he could recollect on how it was on his mind for days, his thoughts burned away like a diary thrown into a hearth. Familiar landmarks sprung up from all over, pointing him in the right direction. Knowing you both were close, Johnny carefully tapped you awake from your slumber.

“Hey, we’re here.” Johnny whispered as he patted on your leg. As you both circled around one last rock formation, the land began to flow like a sea of gold and rubies.

Blanket flowers flooded a small plain below, gripping tightly to the stream that ran through its middle. Towering above them were lush trees and cacti who silently guarded the quiet oasis. Through the cool breeze, the distinct whistle of hummingbirds echoed faintly.

“It’s so beautiful.” you uttered, taking in the view.

“Knew you’d like it,” Johnny smirked proudly as he hopped off his horse. He held out his hand to you and while you gripped it tightly, you slid from his steed to the bumpy, eroded ground beneath you.

“How did you find this place?” you asked, peering off the ledge to examine the distance to the valley below.

Johnny shrugged, “When you got free time on your hands, sometimes you want to see where the trail takes you.”

“Why Johnny, you sound so dashin’.” you jest as you briefly fan yourself.

Johnny shook his head and sighed, “Do you wanna sit here and keep making jokes? Or do you wanna go down and see all that for yourself?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know Johnny. Don’t you think it’s a little high?” you questioned as you glanced over the edge again, confirming the steep drop.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, “But don’t worry! I brought us a heavy rope to get us down there.”

Despite your reasonable doubt, you wrapped the prickly rope around your waist. Dryness swept across your tongue as you braced yourself at the edge. Johnny tightened the other end to a large stone and squared his stance. Gingerly, you stepped off and placed your boot on the cliff's perpendicular face. Slowly, you shuffled down without any problems, but when your feet were firmly planted on the ground again, you let out a deep breath of relief.

“Alright!” You called out, “It’s your turn, Cowboy!”

Without warning, Johnny leaped from the cliff and, like a spider, seamlessly glided down to your side.

“Show off.” you playfully rolled your eyes.

It was one thing to see this small oasis from the cliff, but now the air was soaked with smells akin to a flower shop. It was clear how much more was hidden away at that distance. Bees were pacing up and down the petals of almost every flower. Ladybugs groomed each plant for any unwanted pests. Between them both, butterflies lazily fluttered about, with no actual destination in mind.

As you both carefully trodden deeper into the valley, the sound of running water brushed against your ears. You looked to Johnny, and he, to you. After all, a fresh drink is always welcomed in Arizona.

The splashes of the water against the rocks sounded crisp and cold. The stream was not very wide, one could jump halfway across it, but when Johnny measured it with a long dried stick, the water could reach his waist. Tiny silver minnows darted through the crystal clear water, despite its current, and snails sat snuggly between the rocks at the bottom.

Johnny wetted a piece of cloth from the stream and wiped his face with it. You cupped the water in your hands and took a sip. It didn’t taste like anything, but it swept away the bitter, dry taste in your mouth.

As he wrung out his cloth, Johnny turned to have another look around. However, when you checked on him, you noticed he froze in place.

“What is it? What do you see?” you whispered.

“Stand up slowly and look over there, where the valley closes.” Johnny replied, as he pointed to the spot of interest.

As you rose above the flowers, the valley wrapped into a thin crevice. Standing at that narrow exit, stood a pale pronghorn, who was staring right back. The creature was strange, it was fat like a ram, but had the legs of a slender deer, and it looked like its horns were stolen from a stag beetle. Yet, it stood with the poise and grace of a prince, and viewed you as humble guests in its court. You attempted to get a better look at the sacred creature, but a crow’s call sent it sprinting down the crevice.

If you had blinked, you would’ve sworn it disappeared into thin air.

“Oh, damn!” You clicked your tongue, “I wanna go after it now. Just to see it one more time.”

“Same, but I’ve heard some say they’re the fastest animals with hooves. I believe it too, he’s probably long gone now.” Johnny shook his head as he held his hips.

There were a couple stuffed pronghorn trophies amongst other taxidermies within the businesses of Tombstone, yet to see one alive and amongst the flowers of this hidden valley was truly a moment to bear witness. You turned to Johnny and gave him a tight hug.

“Oh, what’s this for?” Johnny asked as he returned the hug, patting you on the back.

“For bringin’ me here. I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.” you smiled as you held him tighter.

It was strange, your gentle soul kept on finding new ways to captivate him. No matter the reason, no matter how simple the affair, you always had something to be thankful for because of him. Again, it wasn’t as if The Cowboys didn’t show appreciation for each other, Johnny kept reminding himself. But a lingering fact remained, that you weren’t bound by some thieves’ honor or creed. You were the way you were with just about everybody. And perhaps that’s what Johnny liked most about you.

These feelings in Johnny’s chest burned at him worse than Ol’ Man Clanton’s homemade moonshine. Unable to take his emotional indigestion, Johnny took your hands into his and said, “Well, don’t thank me yet! We still can look around a bit more before we go.”

You nodded and the two of you began your look about. Though, the valley was vastly smaller than a sight such as The Grand Canyon. In fact, it was about as wide as a street in Tombstone and ran about as long as one, before pinching into tight exit points on either side. The both of you decided to try to circle the oasis and see what you could find.

Your fingertips caressed the canyon wall. It was like they had melted from the desert sun, but hardened before the river of liquid stone could be washed away. As you continued around the diameter of the valley, you began to notice how uneven the soil was underneath the unassuming flowers. Before your mind could fully process the terrain, the ground dipped steeply from underneath you.

Just as suddenly as you lost your balance, Johnny’s arms slipped around your waist, stopping the fall.

“Woah there, you alright?” he whispered in your ear.

You let out a short gasp, “O-oh! I just slipped, is all!”

The rouge let loose of your waist once you stood upright. With a devilish grin, he offered you his arm and said, “Well, we can’t go on havin’ that, why don’t ya hold onto me from here on?”

You felt your cheeks glowing as you gently grasped him. The sly coyote knew exactly what he was doing, and so did you. Even then, despite your racing heart, you could get used to the prospect.

The clouds reddened as you both scoured the valley, looking into every crack and nook. Laughter echoed from the walls of the valley as the crickets began to sing. A gentle breeze blew through you, causing your skin to crawl. Ever so keen on your condition, Johnny rubbed his hands against your freezing shoulders. You looked over the valley one more time as the sun exited stage right, the lightning bugs signaling the moon to rise.

“Goodness! How long were we out here?” you asked.

“Time flies, I guess. ‘Bout time we started heading back.” Johnny confirmed your suspicion.

You let out a great sigh, not wanting to let such an idyllic day end, but as the cold settled into your bones, the idea of warming yourself to a cozy fire back at home became more than tempting.

Meandering back to the rope, Johnny quickly scaled the valley’s face. When your turn arrived, Johnny called to you from above, “Just tie the line around your waist. My horse and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You do as Johnny said, and once your waist was secured, you yanked on the rope sharply, testing the strength. With confidence, you grinned up at him, and hollered, “Ready when you are!” And in no time at all, you flew from the valley floor, up to meet with Johnny. As your head finally poked above the cliff, muscular hands held onto you, and hauled you up. You couldn’t find ground for your feet to stand on, as he gently spun you around, your hands resting on his chest to steady yourself with.

When Johnny finally decided to let you loose, you landed firmly on his awaiting horse. With you secured, he too hopped on, a quick snap of the reins sent you both on your journey home.

It baffled you how quickly the desert could shift from blistering heat to shivering cold. Before you were even a third of the way back, the cold had begun to make your fingers ache and brought about a constant shiver. You wondered to yourself how those Cowboys could willingly survive in these unforgiving lands. What lunatic, you postulated, could live through the wingbeat of Satan himself, for the sake of being free from the laws of man?

“Hey.”

Your hyperbolic suppositions of Cowboys and their survival, burst from the rouge’s sharp voice.

“What is it?” you asked as you clenched tightly to his jacket.

“Are you cold back there?”

“N-no, I’ll be alright. I know we’re close to town, anyway.” you nodded to yourself as your eyes clenched shut.

“Not even halfway, ya know.” Johnny clarified.

“Oh,” you sighed, swearing much more of the journey had passed, “Well, in any case, I’ll be fine. I made it this far already.”

You could practically hear his eyes rolling in his skull. The horse slowed to a walking pace, and just as you began to wonder why, Johnny threw his jacket over your shoulders. Warmth rained down on your person, as if next to a hot stove.

“I, uh… you didn’t-” you stammered.

“You’re welcome.” Johnny waved without looking back.

You slipped your arms through the slightly baggy sleeves and tightly hugged his waist. “... thank you…” you whispered gingerly.

How cruel the passage of time could be. The cold winds had sunk their claws into you for what felt like hours, when your journey had only just begun. Now that you were safe within the realms of Johnny’s coat, you peaked open your eyes and saw the flickering lights of Tombstone in the distance. Your heart sank just a bit, if only that moment could have lasted longer.

The sounds of civilization manifested from the silence, and before you knew it, you had returned home. Up the steps to your front door, you handed back Johnny’s jacket to him.

“Thank you again for the wonderful time, Johnny.” You beamed warmly. Without hesitation, you stood on your toes and planted a peck on his cheek.

Johnny could hardly respond as you waved him goodbye behind your door. Even after disappearing into your cottage, the Cowboy struggled to make heads or tails of what had just happened. Eventually, all he could do was smile, shake his head in disbelief, and ride out towards camp.

In another part of the house, Doc listened, as you hummed back to your room. He took another drag from a cigarette butt as he sat in darkness. Moonlight dimly trickled through the curtains and cast its light upon him. Kate snored lightly in their bed, having long since fallen into slumber. He pondered, he postulated, he thought to himself, deep in a mire of viscus vulgarity.

How foolish of him to trust his naive sister to be with a conniving snake such as Johnny Ringo. He grounded the remainder of his cigarette into the windowsill, snuffing out its flame. Perhaps, he concluded, it would be best that he took a closer look into the relationship you and Johnny had.

------------------

In the days that passed your trip into the wilderness, Johnny would continue to offer his arm to you, to make sure that, “you wouldn’t fall again.” You scoffed initially, even if you still took his arm in yours. Yet, because of how often he’d offer you his support, it did not take long for you to reach out for him instead. Soon, all of Tombstone took note of the new habit you two had developed.

Even Doc became begrudgingly aware of what the two of you had been up to. If he didn’t catch you strutting up and down town together, some imbecile would waddle right up to him, just out of stabbing distance, to inform Doc of what he already agonizingly knew. The only testament to his capabilities in this fog of anguish he was in, was to drown it out with just another bitter drink.

Doc roused from a hazy stupor, finding himself back in your home. Although he was “awake,” it was impossible to describe him as “lucid.” His ribs ached from his coughing, every sound he heard rang into a prolonged echo, and his vision doubled and tripled. As he suffered within his fever dream, Kate nonchalantly sat beside him as she continued to look over their earnings from earlier last night.

The front door opened with a creak and you walked in from a hard day’s work.

“Evenin’, ya’ll.” you sighed as you placed your coat on the rack.

“Hullooo~” Kate answered quietly. You awaited Doc’s answer while you locked up for the night. Silence eerily breathed down your neck as you awaited for your brother to respond. When it never came, you spun around with a perplexed frown, curious as to what was the matter.

“Oh my God! Is John alright?!” you gasped.

Kate shot you a baffled look, then to Doc, then back to you and replied, “Yes he’s fine, why?”

Doc sat limply in the chair with a deathly complexion. Kate’s obliviousness made your stomach twist into a sickening knot.

“I’m gonna get a doctor.” you declared sharply. As you marched to grab your coat again, a loud cough brought you to a halt.

“Why, Dear Sister!” Doc wheezed, “Did you just make it home?”

“I was just about to get you a doctor, John. I’m worried about your condition!”

“Oh nonsense. I just lived slightly above my means, is all.” He slurred, waving away your concerns.

“That’s right,” Kate interjected as she quickly put away the money she was counting, “Even a man like Doc could use some rest every so often.”

“The two of you can’t be serious-” you started.

Doc leaned forward to rise from his seat as he said breathily, “Come, darlin’. Won’t you help me to the room?”

“Of course, my loving man.” Kate smiled as she held the wobbly gunslinger. The two hobbled back to their quarters without another word. You bit your thumb hard enough for it to turn white as you wondered if there was even anything you could do for your brother.

------------------

The next day, after work, you returned home. Though you were fatigued, dinner was not going to make itself. And Kate, you surmised, wasn’t the kind to make it either. The recipe wasn’t anything complicated, just some salted pork and beans. There was plenty enough for Doc and Kate too.

Although, when dinner was finished and you sat down to eat, you became aware of how quiet your home actually was. In retrospect, you surmised that making the extra salted pork and beans for folks who probably weren’t going to be home that night, was a bad idea. Regardless, you also concluded that, if they did get home later that night, at least they’d have a little something for tonight or even early tomorrow.

After dinner, you scrawled down a note for Doc and Kate to help themselves, and placed it on top of the closed pot. Slipping into your nightgown, you nestled in your bed for a bit of reading. The soft candle light bounced off the pages of your book, and it wasn’t long until it hypnotized you into lassitude. You placed your book on the nightstand, blew out the candle, and settled down for the night.

The following morning, the sun’s rays peaked through your curtains and gently warmed your face. Sitting up, you began to stretch, but paused. You listened, but there was nothing. Had Doc and Kate even returned home last night? Your tongue clicked as you continued to postulate, concluding that they could’ve returned home and were just asleep.

The door to your room creaked as you took a peek outside. You shuffled to the kitchen, and found it just as you left it. Not the pot, nor your note were even touched. A bit of worry gnawed at the back of your head as you tossed a glance to the guest room’s door.

The scent of tobacco ash wafted from the gap underneath the door. You bit your cheek, gently knocking the hollow sounding wood.

No response.

This time, you pressed your ear against the door as you knocked again, and listened. Only the white noise of still air could be heard on the other side. Now, fully entrenched in your inquisitiveness, you carefully twisted the door knob, and peered inside.

The bed was made, albeit haphazardly. The ashtray on the nightstand was filled to the brim with the ends of cigarettes, and all the surfaces of the room, at least, had a couple of empty bottles resting upon them. Although there was an overwhelming scent from all the smoking, it was stale. Because of it, you couldn’t believe they had returned at all.

Tightening your mouth to one side, you closed the door. Though you wondered about your brother and his partner’s whereabouts, they were adults, who were fully capable of coming and going as they pleased. You swallowed your worry, and drifted to the kitchen to take care of the leftovers and dishes.

On the second day, you checked your brother’s room again. Not only was no one inside still, but in fact, it seemed that the room hadn’t been touched entirely. The wrinkles on the bed remained the same and the smell in the room was staler than the last. Thoughts of concern buzzed in and out of your mind as you got ready for work. You glanced one last time at the empty room before you left. A search might be in order, if he wasn’t home by the time you got off, you concluded.

Work was difficult with your brother on your mind. Just like your toughest days, however, you were able to pull through, in the end. Once your shift was over, and you were on your way out, you stopped to look back at the restaurant. The only two customers in the place sat huddled together around a single table.

Your fingers strummed your side. Perhaps, it was possible that these two gentlemen knew who Doc was and had seen him around. Your brother did have a standout reputation, afterall.

Approaching their table, you waved, “Oh, pardon me, gentlemen.”

The two mangled prospectors smiled with missing teeth, one lisping, “Howdy, Miss Holliday! Is everything alright?”

“Actually, I was wonderin’, do either of you know my brother, Doc Holliday?” you asked, lightly wringing your dress.

The two turned to each other with intrigue, “Why, sure. Just about everybody knows Doc, I’d reckon. Can’t miss a character like that!”

“Can’t miss his lady friend, neither.” one nudged the other.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, I’m sure. Um, but, have either of you seen them in town within the past two days?”

One of them leaned in closer, “You didn’t know, Miss Holliday? He’s been at it at the Dragoon Saloon for the past two days. I reckon he hasn’t even gotten an ounce of sleep. Dropped by their yesterday to wet my whistle after work, and then again this mornin’ on my way back.”

You stepped back slowly shaking your head. Had he truly been out drinking for the past two days straight? All you could muster to the prospectors was a soft, “Thank you.” Then you rushed out the door to your next destination.

The Dragoon Saloon, thankfully, was only a brisk jog down the street. You were relieved to find that he wasn’t a pile of bones bleaching in the desert somewhere. But what in the world was he thinking?

Just as you approached the doors of the saloon, a party of three had pushed themselves out. Two on the outside carried the third member in the middle, practically dragging him by the boots. When they finally came into the street light, you realized it was Doc being carried by Kate and a man you didn’t know.

You pushed past the stranger and took his place in carrying Doc, gasping, “What happened to him?”

The stranger interjected hoarsely, “Came into me bar with his lady friend two days ago. I had come in to work all of yesterday, switched out with one o’ me bar keeps fer some shut eye. Came back today and he was still at it. Must’a been at it fer a total of 36 hours!”

The bar owner’s confirmation was still as shocking as what the prospectors had claimed. You knew Kate fed into his vices, but you were nearly left speechless as to how she could’ve allowed Doc to go so far.

Almost in response to your demanding glance, Kate blurted out, “How could I stop him? Once Doc started winning there was no pulling out! The plan was always to fold once we lost a certain amount, but he never did.”

Perhaps, gripped by sheer astonishment, your voice wouldn’t utter another word, even when you tried.

The barkeep implored, “Are you lasses fine with takin’ ‘em back home by yerselves?”

Refocusing your attention to him, you nodded, “Yes, I’m sure we will make it just fine.” You then motioned to Kate, “Come on, let’s get him home.”

Between you and Kate, you were both able to stagger back to your cottage. Exhaustively, you two carefully laid Doc onto his bed. You wanted a word with Kate, but she too flopped onto the mattress next to her man, kicking her boots off at the same time.

It was a possibility, you thought, that for once, Kate was right. You too were exhausted from hauling your near cadaver of a brother all the way home. It made sense to call it quits for the meantime. After all, she too was up with your brother for the past two days. You doubted she was in any condition to be reasoned with. But you were sure to have a word with her in private, the next chance you got.

Late in the afternoon, the following day, you were in the midst of preparing dinner, once again. This time, you had your guests in mind. The creamy, chicken and dumpling soup bubbled as you gingerly stirred the concoction of soft vegetables, and tender chicken chunks, together.

Your brother, nor his company, had emerged from their room the entire day. Outside of muffled groans and heavy snores, you could’ve assumed they left again for another binge. Yet, the pleasant smell must’ve seeped into their room.

Soon enough, Doc emerged from his cave with the wobbly legs of a newborn calf. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused. The bags under his eyes resembled black bruises rather than mere exhaustion. His face almost appeared to be made of wax. And his body, in an attempt to purge the toxins that flooded him, produced a sour scent from his pools of sweat.

He hobbled along to the front room clenching himself for warmth. Hunger leaked from his gaze as he stared through your kitchen’s half wall.

“Mornin’ there, sleepy head.” you smiled warmly, “Seems like you had a busy couple of days, would you like somethin’ for that headache of yours?”

He nodded. With shame or sickness, you couldn’t tell, but he didn’t verbally answer nor did he meet your gaze. The pour of the soup was reflected in his glassy eyes. While the frustration remained, your aggravation was replaced with pity. Even one so proud as Doc Holliday was made humble at the feet of his vices.

You greeted his weary gaze with a gentle smile as you passed him a billowing bowl. His eyes shot glances to you and the bowl as he felt the heat emanate from it. The spoon scuttled at the bottom, clasping to the tender vegetable and milky base. Doc’s lips slid against the spoon. You could’ve sworn steam escaped his nostrils from the soup’s intense heat.

“Exquisite as always.” Doc muttered softly.

“I try.” you chuckled.

“Indeed.” Doc agreed, setting the bowl down on the half wall’s counter. “If I may, I want you to know that I greatly appreciate your hospitality.”

“Of course, John! We’re kin, afterall, you and I. I just hate that you’ve gone and done this to yourself. Now, I’m not sayin’ you can’t have fun, but, you know better than this. I was really frightened for you these past couple of days. Come to my surprise you’re havin’ a grand ol’ time. So much of a good time, in fact, that the mosquitos could get a hangover from ya!”

“I understand.” Doc sheepishly remarked.

Exhaling through your nostrils, you poured another bowl. Though you really wanted to be more firm with him, it seemed no such push was necessary. You could feel the weight on his brow. Despite how upset you were from the whole ordeal, you couldn’t help but feel empathy for your sickly scoundrel of a brother. He was, afterall, just trying to find his place in the grand scheme of things. Just like everyone else in this world.

You handed him the other bowl, sighing, “Here, for your plus one. I’m sure she’s not feelin’ any better.”

“Positively writhin’, the poor dear.” Doc whispered, “But I think this will do the trick.”

He hobbled back in the direction of his room with both bowls in tow. Before heading inside, he called back to you, “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Well, don’t let that stop you from tryin’, Dear Brother.”

As you finally poured yourself a bowl, you heard the rare chuckle from your brother as he closed the door behind him.

The mellow waters of content washed over your shoulders. Sure, Doc had the habit of deciding what he wanted to do, rather than what he should do, but it seemed, to you, that he took what you said with some consideration. Knowing this, you felt relief for your brother, and yourself as well. For a moment, you felt hopeful that maybe, just maybe, your concerns hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, this time.

At least, that’s what you had hoped.

Not even a week later, while you and Johnny quietly read in the front room together, Kate dragged Doc in, roughly throwing the door open. The couple had been out since dawn and had only returned then, after the sun long since set. You shot up from your seat with concern. The way she huddled against him, and struggled to walk in, signaled that something was wrong.

But then the stench of alcohol and tobacco slapped you.

“Don’t mind us! We’ll just be in our room.” Kate waved, struggling with her dead weight.

You and Johnny continued to watch, unblinkingly and expressionlessly. Kate’s hollow footsteps were matched by the sudden thud of her losing grip of Doc and dropping him. She sucked in air through her teeth as she struggled unsuccessfully to lift him. You stepped forth to assist them, however, Kate raised Doc into a seated position. From there, she hooked her arms underneath his armpits and dragged him, knocking over a few of your books from the shelves as they passed by.

“Oops, pardon me!” Kate awkwardly chuckled, as she lumbered Doc back to their room.

Initially, you were in utter shock, but as their door shut, your expression fell into absolute contempt.

You spun around, reaching for every which way to apologize to your guest, until Johnny held up his hand.

“No need to be sorry. You didn’t make them drunk, afterall.”

While you appreciated the sentiment, it didn’t change how Doc and Kate had acted. It didn’t change the fact that the talk you had with him meant nothing. And it certainly didn’t change your embarrassment in front of Johnny.

You politely nodded and returned to your seat with your best attempt to continue to enjoy your visit. A few hours later, your grandfather clock sent Johnny Ringo on his way. And you awaited Doc’s return to the surface.

Just like any hapless seal, unknowingly caught by an awaiting hunter, Doc staggered out of his room and into the kitchen. You could practically see his veins pulling and stretching his temples. His gaunt and off-colored skin wrapped tightly around his face and hands, begging to be hydrated. As he messily poured a couple of glasses of water you quickly approached his side, almost startling him.

“Pay no mind, I’ll wipe up the mess right now.” Doc blurped.

“Doc, what are you doin’?” you asked.

“Hm?” he muttered, stealing a sip from one of the cups.

“What in heaven’s name was that about earlier?” you asked, pointing to the front door. Doc could only respond with a perplexed look, so you continued, “Earlier? When you and Kate got home? Or were you passed out when Kate dragged you in, in front of my guest?”

There was a peak of confusion in his brow. Doc looked in your direction, but he seemed to almost look through you, at the same time. It was like he was made of petrified wood, and in a very short amount of time, you could no longer bear his silence.

“What happened to the last time we talked about this? I recall you sayin’ that you understood, yet there you were, dead as a doornail.” you exasperated as your hands slapped your sides.

Unable to answer, or perhaps unwilling to, he turned back to the counter and poured more water into the cup he drank from. Just as before, you felt the need to trudge the issue along further for any kind of answer.

“Were you just sayin’ that to get me out of your hair?” you asked, “Or you did understand but you just don’t care?”

Even still, his lips were sealed and his silence was piercing.

“Don’t you have anythin’ to say? I’m worried about you, John. Please, just talk to me.”

Crickets chirped outside your home as you awaited his answer. Driven into a corner, Doc exhaled deeply, as he turned to face you again, “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.”

Doc took the cups and slid past you, to what you perceived to be, complete dismissal.

“Dammit, John! Is that how it’s goin’ to be? Well then, I better not see you drunk when I’m around!” You stiffly pointed your finger to Doc as he closed the door to his room behind him.

Holding your breath, you swung at the air, beating at your imaginary brother, black and blue. Your threat was only a bluff and he called it as easily as the redness that painted your face. The imponent rage subsided and you were left hollow. While your arms clutched each other tightly in a lukewarm self embrace, you took a moment to ponder to yourself.

You didn’t think that you were asking for much, were you? Were you really being so absurd? Did you go too far? You thought about it every which way, but found yourself back in the same place, with the same conclusions.

You knew you were right to be worried and upset about Doc’s drinking habits. So, why then, did he not see that? You thought you and he had reached some sort of earnest moment. In retrospect, perhaps you had been a bit naive, but to have him be so dismissive of your sentiments and pleas, broke your heart.

You slinked down into a chair by the dining table. Your chin tightened. The weight that you felt from it all was crushing. You felt helpless from your frustration that sat on your chest and wringed your neck. Tears welled in your eyes and you tried to stop them by holding your face in your hands. It was almost impossible to swallow nothing at all.

The next day, though you could still taste a faint bitterness, most of your vexation was washed away by the time you had awoken.

This day, you had planned to run some errands. Your household was in desperate need of groceries, and not to mention, there was a pile of laundry that had been neglected for a couple of days, at that point. It seemed as if life cared little for your struggles. But, in a way, it brought you relief. In your mind, it was like a reminder of things that you should be focusing on, rather than the petty squabbles with your brother.

You tapped the toe of your boot to the floor, ensuring your comfort within it. Ready to go, you reached for the front door, when you heard a click from behind.

Doc wandered the kitchen with a crow-like gait, no doubt in search of something to eat. Swallowing the rest of that bitter taste from earlier, and henceforth your pride as well, you broke the silence, “I need to get groceries, John. I’ll be back in a couple hours. Is there anythin’ you’d like from the market?”

Almost mechanically, Doc halted his search, and monotonously replied, “No, thank you.” Before returning, wordlessly, back to his room. Not even a goodbye.

Smoke billowed within the confines of Doc and Kate’s bedroom. Kate laid on the bed, and propped herself up by her elbow underneath a pile of pillows. She watched the strings of smoke dance through the air, while Doc took a seat in the room’s sole chair. Pouring himself another shot into his tin cup, he felt the burning need to introspect.

He listened, and you closed the front door upon your leave. It was his queue to take another drink. The biting heat passed his tongue and sterilized his throat. Though quite clever, more often than not, Doc was easily swept up in the winds of his intemperance and passions. So too, did he think he had the reins of control when, in reality, the bit was in between his teeth instead.

With self assurance, he clamped down on his imaginary bridle, with the belief that it was of his own determination. You didn’t want to see him drunk, so be it. He was merely a guest in your home, after all.

You, on the other hand, looked upon your brother’s distant behavior with charity. Perhaps, you caught him off guard with how forgiving you sounded, you gloated to yourself in jest. Jokes aside, you weren’t surprised in the way your brother found himself. You had just swallowed your own pride, despite the residual feelings of grievance you had prior. In fact, it still lingered like the cough from a bad cold. And if you felt that way, how could you expect Doc to fare any better? Regardless, when enough time passed, you figured a compromise of sorts was bound to arise.

Days passed, and yet the silence between the two of you remained the same. You’d argue it got worse, even. Doc would disappear for hours at a time, and only returned long after you had fallen asleep. You could only tell of his and Kate’s return from the muffled snores that seeped from the cracks of their room. When you did catch him awake, there were no hellos or goodbyes. They no longer ate the food you left out for them, and it was as if you were alone in your home, but not quite.

More like, phantoms to each other’s perception; the only kind of awareness to be conceived was through whispers and a cold harsh breeze.

------------------

Clouds rumbled over the mountains like a flock of stampeding sheep. Despite their woolish appearance, lightning flicked in and around them as water poured from underneath. Thunderstorms were far from unheard of, but most of Tombstone was caught off guard from its sudden apparition.

You too scrambled to beat the storm as the clouds began to blot out the sun. Of course you chose a shift that started when the rain rolled in. Perfect.

A cough of makeup billowed from your room as you rapidly pecked at your cheeks with a powder puff. Your heart pounded as you applied the waxy, red pigment to your lips as the final touches to your appearance. You sighed, releasing the tenseness weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the makeup was thrown into a small chest and placed back onto your vanity dresser.

Just as you reached for your umbrella, a knock at your door pulled your attention away to answer it. Waiting on the other side of your door was Johnny Ringo who greeted you with a hat tip. The desaturated light from outside contrasted with the faint warm candle you kept to light your home.

“You ready to go?” He asked, looking over his shoulder into the gloom.

“Yes, let me just grab my bag!” You assured him, blowing out the candle and running back inside.

Emerging back from the darkness of your home, you nudged Johnny out of the way and locked the door. By then, the clouds smothered the sky in a thick gray tone. This bleakness however, could not break the atmosphere you and Johnny shared together. He smiled warmly as he held out his arm for yours, and as you took his, the chill in the air dissipated.

“So, what’s in your plans today?” You asked Johnny as you both walked the main street.

“Ol’ Behan has a few of us goin’ around collecting taxes for ‘im.” Johnny shook his head, “Always sendin’ us to take on folks who aren’t too keen on payin’ up without a beating first.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I asked.” You sucked in some air through your teeth. “I’m glad you can find work with Mr. Behan, but I’d hate for you to hurt yourself doin’ all that.”

He raised his brows with a half smile, “Why, aren’t you a sweetheart?”

Your cheeks turned rosy and your eyes widened. You had to hear him say it again as you asked, “What did you just say to me, Johnny Ringo?”

“Oh, well-uh..” he stumbled over himself, flatlined by your straightforwardness.

Thunder ripped you both apart with the promise of imminent rain. You looked to the heavens and saw lighting sprinting across the sky. You reached for your umbrella but found it missing.

“Aw, Hell!” You scowled, “I forgot my umbrella at home!”

“How’d you forget that in this weather?” Johnny scrunched his face.

“Oh, really? And where’s yours then?” You asked as you slapped your sides.

Johnny bulged his eyes mockingly, tapping his wide brimmed hat and jacket. The man was practically begging for you to let him have it. Before you could oblige, mist caressed your face.

A sheet of water fell from the heavens like theater curtains. A stillness in your being allowed you to accept your cold shivering fate. However, a familiar soft, wooly texture encased you, and your hand was gripped tightly. As you were pulled along, you realized, yet again, that Johnny Ringo was responsible for your safekeeping.

Laughter slipped from your lips while you both sprinted for the Crystal Palace. Johnny looked back at you, perplexed by your sudden bout of laughter. His furrowed brow faded away and he joined you in glee. The mud squished under your boots as you continued your perilous sprint. Water tapped on the coat, slowly turning it damp, even on the inside. The glow from inside the Palace drew you to it like a moth to a flame as you came ever closer.

Just as soon as it started, you made it to the safety of the Palace’s rickety porch. You handed Johnny his coat as you huffed to catch your breath.

“Thank you for the save, back there.” You said, crossing your arms while you tapped the sand off your soggy boots.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” Johnny nodded. His hands reached for yours and were still warm despite the rain. “Try to stay dry, now.”

You bit your bottom lip. There he said it again, looking deep into your eyes with that smug smile of his. He knew you were dough in his hands, yet you tried to hold your ground all the while.

“I’d say the same, but I know you won’t listen.” You teased him with a smile.

“I’ll try.” He relented warmly.

You both said your goodbyes, while Johnny buttoned his jacket and stepped forth into the storm. You too hurried inside to freshen up for your shift. Your patrons awaited you to brighten up this gloomy day.

Hours later, as your shift wrapped up, the Palace was jam-packed with customers. Their collective heat kept the establishment pleasantly warm if one ignored the musky smell. You didn’t realize the gift it was to be in there until you stepped outside again. The wind whistled in your ears and rain made it nearly impossible to see far into the night.

Looking back within the Palace, you realized then, why it was so busy. Not a soul was seen outside, except for a lone smoker who also hid under the balcony of the poker house across the street.

Pondering for a moment, you tried to convince yourself to go back in and borrow an umbrella. Yet, when you saw how occupied your boss and coworkers were, you paused.

‘Just ask them’ you urged yourself.

‘But they’re so busy.’

‘You’ll get soaked!’

‘They’ll get soaked if it’s still rainin’ when their shift’s over!’

Your boots stomped on the splintered patio in spite of yourself. Convinced there was no other option, you readied yourself to sprint all the way home. Just as you finished praying to be free of pneumonia, you heard a horse approach you from behind.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

Even in the heavy rain, you could make out the horseman’s familiar silhouette.

“Johnny? Is that you?” you squinted.

“Thought you might need this.” A semicircle sprang out from his form, revealing a navy blue umbrella.

The crevices in the polished wooden handle rubbed against your hand. As your chest pounded, you softly uttered, “Oh, Johnny. You didn’t have to-”

“Come on, let’s get you back home.” he coaxed you onto his horse. Even though the rain still poured, the wind died down, no longer presenting a biting sensation to your cheeks. With your new umbrella blanketing the both of you, even the weather was more than bearable. Allowing for a comfortable pace, the horse cantered the two of you back home.

Across the street, under the balcony of the poker house, the lone smoker watched the two of you disappear into the rain. Alcohol and nicotine flooded his veins, yet he felt nothing, numb to even the freezing air.

“There you are, Doc!” Kate called from the entrance, “Why aren’t you inside?”

“I’ll be right there, darlin’.” he muttered lowly, watching your trail wash away from the sand.

Your cottage came into view sooner than you expected, not that you could complain. The succulents in your garden were swollen from the rain, with some even sprouting purple blossoms. Hearing the taps of water on your roof brought a shiver of relief as you unlocked the door. Droplets slithered off the umbrella, like silver snakes, as you shook it off.

“I can’t thank you enough, Johnny. Would you believe it if I told you I was plannin’ on runnin’ all the way home?” you chuckled as you reached out to hand the umbrella back to him.

“Yeah, I believe it!” Johnny tsked as he looked down to see what you were passing him, “Which is why I think you can keep it.”

“Oh no, Johnny! I said I just forgot my umbrella, not that I didn’t have one.” You clarified, “Besides, I’m already home now. You could use this a lot more than me at this point.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a gift.” he smiled, “Just be sure you remember to actually bring it next time.”

Your eyes sharpened and your hands fell on your hips, “Look who’s a sweetheart now? Care to come in and dry off?”

“I’d love to, but I gotta get my ol’ Rosinante to a stable and dry him off. Don’t need him keeling over on me.”

A pang of disappointment washed over you, even if it was the right thing to do. You set the umbrella down and jumped into his arms, pecking him on the cheek, “See you around then, Cowboy.”

The flustered bandit rubbed his cheek before, without warning, kissing you back on yours.

“See you around.” he tipped his hat and sauntered back to his horse.

Though the rain drenched the ground, and lightning crackled across the sky, you felt like you were showered in sunshine. That dastardly thief might have gifted you an umbrella, but he rode away having stolen your heart.

------------------

The thunderstorm came and went. Left in its trail were fields of green and miles of flowers. The miners still mined, the farmers still farmed, and yet all, for a moment each day, took time to breathe the fresh air, see the blue sky, and admire the emerald horizon that met it.

The Crystal Palace, too, was embraced by this moment of calm. Customers would be frequent, but not door busting, high spirited, but far from table turning. Not to mention, many were tipping generously.

While cleaning your section of tables, the chime attached to the door jingled.

“Come on in and make yourself at home!” You called as you admired your spotless work.

“Why, thank you kindly, Dear Sister.” A voice whistled back.

Doc poked his head into the side of your vision with a devilish grin. Kate was glued to his waist like a lace covered tick.

“John! What a surprise!” you stammered, “Is there somethin’ the matter?” Your skin prickled beneath your clothes. You had better odds of crossing a jackalope than Doc these days. Hell, even before your spat, not once did he come to visit you while you worked, keeping to the other businesses of Tombstone instead. You were happy to see him, as always, but you couldn’t help but have pause from his sudden appearance. Why, now, did he decide to bless you with his presence?

“Far from it,” he replied with a slush in his voice, “Kate and I were just on a stroll when it occurred to us, we hadn’t had the chance to pay you a visit!”

“Hope we aren’t intruding.” Kate noted with a Cheshire smile.

“Oh, John, have you caught the fever?” you poked.

Doc cleared his throat with a chuckle, “I am as fresh as the grass is green, I assure you.”

Your ever aloof brother finally paid you a friendly visit. Perhaps, you thought, the fair weather had reached him too. Shame tugged at your heart for your previous assumptions as you motioned Doc and Kate in.

“Tell me what you’d like to drink and I’ll sit you two where the gamblin’ tables are.” you smiled brightly.

“We’ll have two glasses of whiskey on the rocks.” Doc pointed to himself and Kate.

“I’ll be right back, then!” You assured them.

‘Looks like his egg is already poached,’ you thought to yourself. The clear cubes of ice clanked at the bottom of a pair of crystalline cups. As you put the whiskey bottle to the glass’ lip, your mouth scrunched to one side. He had been, at that point, the most pleasant with you since his arrival, but it ached knowing that he was not himself and you were about to contribute to it. The whole reason he had given you the cold shoulder treatment was because of this. And now, you were willing to lean in and embrace his vice, just to be within his good graces.

‘Maybe I could ask him to go get some rest.’

‘But he and Kate are already here. And they were in a good mood for once too!’

‘Look at him, though. He should be at home restin’.’

‘Now that I think about it, there’ve been sloppier folks who came and left through those doors just fine...’

‘I suppose one drink won’t kill ‘em?’

Like rolling a stone over the hilltop, as you began to pour, it became easier.

“Sorry it took so long, I thought I lost the whiskey!” You laughed as you returned to Doc’s table.

Mist had already condensed on the surface of the two glasses. Doc took one and swirled the amber colored liquid within it. He was enraptured by its flowing form, or its wooden, peaty aroma, or its burning flavor. Which captivated him most, if not all three, you couldn’t be sure of. His jittery hands pressed the drink to his colorless lips. Though he took a delicate sip, the act of swallowing was painful and forced.

“Darlin’,” he coughed.

“Yes, Doc?” Kate asked, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He rummaged around in his breast pocket and pulled out some spare change, “Would you kindly fetch me a cigar from the front? Cherry, please.”

“I don’t mind gettin’ it!” you volunteered.

Doc stiffly grabbed your hand before you could walk off. He tightly smiled, “While you’re at it, darlin’, see if you could find yourself a flavor to your likin’ as well.”

Kate had the venomous smile of a viper as she glanced between you and Doc. Wordlessly, Doc’s partner rose from her seat and hurried off.

Only when Kate was out of view, did Doc let out a sigh, “I do believe I owe you an apology.”

“For what, John?”

“For, uh,” Doc hesitated, “for not bein’ there for you. As an older brother, that is.”

“Where is this comin’ from?”

“I have the same plague that took our mother and siblings. It’ll take me tomorrow or another year from now. Before it does, I want you to know how proud I am of you.” His hand still clenched yours, shaking and soggy with sweat.

“When I came to town,” he continued, “and I asked about you, there wasn’t a soul that could give you a bad name. No one could believe that you and I fell from the same tree. Every chance they took, they asked ‘Oh the sweet one from The Crystal Palace? She’s your sister? What happened to you?’ And every time they asked, well, I couldn’t be prouder. Knowin’ that you weren’t like me.”

You clenched your lips together and you squeezed his hand back. Your breath shook, “You don’t have to put yourself down, John. I have loved you no matter what you’ve done. I just wish that you had the courage to tell me this when you’re sober, so I know you meant it.”

Doc nodded in a circle, “Fair enough, I’d wager. I’ll make a promise to it.”

His bright smile contradicted the dark circles under his eyes and his pasty tone. He always made those kinds of noble promises when you two were younger, until they were too hard to keep. Then he stopped promising all together.

Then he just left.

You wanted to believe him, but all you could mutter was, “If you say so, John.”

The sound of the door’s bell rang in your ears. You patted your brother’s back and gently placed his hand on the table. You swallowed your heart back down and took a step back from him. The sting of his cheap promises had always hurt you deeply, and for just once, you wanted him to feel it too. To simply walk off without another word.

And yet…

“Well, don’t take too long then.” you relented, “Pardon me, John. I have to go.”

Doc nodded and gestured to your destination with an open palm. With that, you left Doc in peace to attend to the new customers.

Just as you reached the front, your steps screeched to a halt.

Johnny and two other Cowboys, Stillwell and Barnes, awaited to be seated.

“Oh, look! The Georgia Peach is here today!” Stillwell grinned crookedly.

“No coincidence there, huh, Johnny?” Barnes chuckled, nudging Johnny elbow to elbow.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Hope you’re not too busy?” Johnny asked, giving a short wave while rubbing his back.

“I don’t knooow~,” you noted, as you looked around the fractionally empty restaurant, “It’s very busy in here today!”

You waved them in and led them to the bar as you rounded the other side of it.

“So what can I get you today, boys?” you asked as you leaned on the counter.

“I’ll just have a beer.” Johnny raised his hand.

“Don’t worry, Peach Pie, we’ll make ourselves at home in the back.” Stillwell thumbed at himself and Barnes.

“Behave yourselves back there, boys!” you called as you filled Johnny’s pint.

“We promise.~” Barnes answered as the pair made a beeline for the gambling tables.

“And what about you, handsome? How have you been?” you asked Johnny, sliding the cold beer his way.

Johnny drank deeply from the mug and wiped the foam from his mustache, “I’ve been alright. What about you? How’s things been here today?”

“I’m fine, thank you. And it hasn’t been too bad here, I would’ve thought it’d have been busier. On account of the nice weather and everythin’. Have you been keepin’ yourself busy?”

“I have, now that you’ve mentioned it. Me, Bill, Barnes, and Stillwell just got back from sellin’ some cattle that we found-”

“Uh-uh! I don’t want to know, Johnny. You know how all that makes me worry about you.” you blurted out as you cleaned another glass, “I will have none of it, sir!”

“Well,” he raised his brows and smiled, “aren’t you a box of matches?”

You leaned back onto the counter, “Matches? That’s a new one. And pray tell, how am I a fire starter? Just because I worry about you?”

“Yes, that, but you’re also bright, and,” Johnny leaned in closer to you, “you light my fire.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a short laugh, “How charmin’! Did you learn that one from Mr. Brocius?”

“Ahem, nah. He’s not the only Cowboy around here with charm.” Johnny replied confidently as he dusted off his knuckles.

------------------

Just moments before entering the Crystal Palace, Curly Bill Brocius grabbed his right hand man’s shoulder.

“Remember, Juanito, you wanna sweep her off her feet! Tell her that she lights your flame.” Curly Bill stared deeply into his other hand and wiggled his fingers to resemble a wispy ember.

“You sure?” Johnny asked suspiciously.

“Oh yeah! It works every time, it never gets old! They love that poetry stuff, it should be easy for you. I saw you readin’ that one feller, Vir-,V-, Virgin-”

“Virgil?”

“That’s the spice! Now go knock her bustle off!”

Thud!

Johnny hissed and rubbed his back as he, Stillwell and Barnes headed inside. Curly Bill, on the other hand, sauntered off on his own to cause a ruckus elsewhere.

------------------

“Alright then, Romeo,” you chuckled, “What else have you been up to?”

“So,” Johnny began, gulping down his beer, “after we were done with our, uh, business, I had some cash in my pocket to spend. Went lookin’ around in an antique store and found this.”

He slipped his hand into his coat. With the finesse of a magician, a book sprang out from underneath. ‘Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque,’ was written on its spine, even though most of it had faded off.

“Oh my goodness, did you get me a book by Poe?” You asked, feeling the rugged cover.

Johnny nodded proudly, “The owner of the place swore it was an original copy too. I know how much you like romance. Thought it’d be the book for you.”

Your hand grasped your chest, “Johnny, this had to have cost an arm and a leg!”

He shook his head, “Nah, I know the guy. I brought ‘em a few trinkets here and there.”

You clenched the book tightly, at a loss for words. You took his hand in yours and rubbed his scar covered fingers.

“If I’m a matchstick, you must be a gas can, cause you’re always addin’ fuel to the fire.” you managed to say.

You both leaned in closer, practically feeling the heat radiating off each other. The drumming of your heart could be felt from your fingertips to your earlobes.

“And you were sayin’ I was talkin’ to Bill?” Johnny softly chuckled.

The two of you drew in closer, and closer, and then…

CRASH!

The sound of shattering glass brought the whole establishment to a bitter silence. Grunting and the squealing of chairs were coming from the back of the Palace. You feared for the worst as you made a mad dash for the gambling tables. When you turned the corner, you found Stillwell, on the ground, holding Doc by the collar. Barnes stood above both men, complacently monitoring with his arms crossed.

Kate watched uselessly behind him, but when she noticed you she called out, “They’re hurting him! Do something!”

Stillwell shook Doc violently while barking, “Stay out of this, Peach! This lunger son of a bitch wants to act like he’s better than everyone else!”

You reached out to break up the two, but were pulled back by the waist. Johnny stepped forward from behind with an ice cold stare. Barnes stepped back as Johnny made his approach.

“Drop him, Stillwell.” Johnny bellowed.

“But Johnny, he-”

“Drop him.”

Stillwell snarled at Doc one last time, before letting loose of his grip. As the Cowboy rose to his feet, Barnes came to his side and patted his shoulder. They slowly staggered out, eyes full of disappointment, as if abandoned by him. Johnny too looked down, unable to watch them leave.

Your brow furrowed and your hands shakily clenched into tight fists. What had started out as a blueprint for the perfect day in Tombstone, crumbled apart like stale bread. You whipped around to face your brother, but he still laid on the floor, unmoving. Foam gathered at the edges of his mouth.

“Oh my God, John!” you cried out as you slid to his side. His pulse was faint and his breathing was shallow.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny urged.

“I don’t know, but he needs a doctor, right now!”

Just then, your boss stumbled in, “What in the hell’s going on here, Holliday?!”

“Here, help me and Johnny pick him up!” you grunted as you struggled to prop Doc up into a sitting position.

Your boss took your place at Doc’s shoulders while you and Johnny each took a leg. All together, you heaved to raise Doc from the sticky floor. Looking around to find the best option for your footing, you noticed Kate was still at the tables. She shoveled several unearned bills and chips into her purse, while everyone was distracted.

Your mouth was left agape with disgust. Here, the supposed love of her life was, possibly dying, and all she could think about was the piles of money left unattended. You didn’t expect her to fight The Cowboys head on, or even draw that little revolver of hers, with Barnes, just as equipped, watching over the ordeal. But the least she could do, you thought, was to keep focus on her ‘loving man’ rather than the money. If Doc wasn’t at risk of dying, you knew you’d fold her with more wrinkles than any of the bills she stuck in that bag.

“Kate!” You implored, “Go get the doctor and meet us in the break room!”

Kate rattled her head with a nod while sloppily zipping up her bag. She rushed off in a flash, and you four barged into the breakroom, much to the shock of the unsuspecting waitresses.

“Get the hell out of the way!” your boss shouted while you all made your way to the sofa.

With Doc set to rest, your boss shooed your coworkers out. Johnny and you unbuttoned Doc’s shirt and dried off his sweat, each respectively.

Shortly thereafter, Kate returned with the local doctor. You, Johnny, your boss, and Kate waited outside as he gathered his prognosis.

The Doctor emerged from the breakroom rubbing his sinus. As he adjusted his glasses, he asked, hoarsely, “May I assume that you are friends and family of Mr. Holliday?”

“Unfortunately.” Johnny crossed his arms.

“He’s my brother.” you sighed.

“Oh, I just work here.” your boss shrugged.

“He’s my loving man.” Kate clasped her hands, as you sneered back at her, “Is he gonna be alright, Doctor?”

“He’ll be fine, nothing that some sulfur and hop couldn’t fix. However, his tuberculosis has severely advanced. I’m not one to assume a patient’s life choices, but I’d wager he doesn’t normally have a restful lifestyle, which is what he needs.”

Johnny hissed out a sigh and you nodded shamefully, Kate stiffened with a tight lip.

The doctor smoothed back his receded hairline, “Right then. If you want him to have any chance at living past another six months, his lavish way of living must end. My best guess is less than a month, otherwise.”

The group was silent, Johnny squeezed your hand and rubbed his thumb against it. You squeezed back as tight as you could, turning your knuckles pale.

Kate broke the silence when she said, in a low voice, “Can we see him? Is he awake?”

“Yes, he’s awake. I’d recommend keeping it short though, he needs to be taken back to a bed and rest.”

Kate brushed past the doctor into the breakroom, she closed the door behind her and you all could hear mumbling on the other side.

“There’s my strong stallion…” you managed to hear.

The doctor craned his head over to you, “You said you were his sister, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, his condition is nothing to snub a nose at. Mr. Holliday has given himself quite the reputation in this town, for his ceaseless search for money, alcohol, and cigarettes. Even if I didn’t believe a word of it, what I observed in that room would’ve changed my opinion instantly. Do watch him, because the rumors about Mr. Holliday aren’t about him alone.” The doctor thumbed back to the breakroom door, where Kate’s giggles emitted from.

“Thank you, Doctor.” you nodded as you shook his hand.

“I’ll get outta your hair too now, Holliday. You got enough to worry about, just come in tomorrow.” your boss waved, taking the doctor with him back to the front.

You leaned against the wall with both hands. The very air stood on your shoulders with the weight of lead. It wasn’t as if you could’ve predicted the altercation itself, but with what the doctor said in regards to his alcohol use, and how you now contributed to it, you began to feel sick, knowing that you were right and still went against your better judgment, regardless. At least if you shooed him away, your conscience would’ve been cleared of this twisting poison that you felt. It became so overwhelming you could hardly even stand, but just as you were about to collapse, a familiar set of arms held you up by your waist.

“It’s alright, everything’s gonna be ok.” Johnny whispered as he laid his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t know, Johnny. I don’t think it will be. John will always do what he wants… but he’s the only one I have left.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up over his choices. He’s living the life he chose.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change that I want what’s best for him. You’ve wanted what was best for somebody, right?”

He hadn’t, not for a long time. He loved The Cowboys, in the closest way to loving a family. He mourned their deaths and honored them all like brothers. But, the simple fact remained that they all knew the price of being a Cowboy. The price of the freedom they all had, ultimately, was death. If a Cowboy hadn’t been gunned down by the law, it would be because, ‘he died for living too much.’ That was it, no conscience to say he was living too lavish or too dangerously.

“No. I hadn’t, but I do now.” he declared. He spun you around and embraced you tightly. You heard his chest pounding like a train engine, and he clasped you so intensely that your breathing shallowed. “He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Oh that Johnny, he always did have a way with words, didn’t he? Your hands gently held his face as you softly touched his forehead to yours.

“Don’t cut yourself short there, Cowboy.”

He laid his chin on top of your head, frozen in thought. It all seemed so obvious then. Of course you cared for him!

This whole time, Johnny felt like he had to watch his own back. Afterall, who had better interest in himself, than himself. He just assumed you were disinterested in his tales, despite you telling him how worried you were. It was easier to take it that way, rather than to believe the actual truth of the matter. In these unforgiving lands, where only the strong survived, why would anyone have pity for the likes of thieves and murderers like him.

It was inconceivable for someone like Doc Holliday to have someone love him in the most caring and truest sense, while squandering it. Johnny was sure that if he were in Doc’s place, he would never take advantage of it. And yet, here you were, never once hiding how much you cared about him, and Johnny had been willfully blind to it.

He stroked your hair, kissed your forehead, and said, “Guess I’m lucky to have you too.”

Johnny couldn’t see your grin widening as you pressed against his coat. In a way, you felt lucky too. You couldn’t have met a better friend, and, well… maybe…

Kate’s laugh resonated from the break room again, yanking you back from your thoughts. You could feel your shoulders droop as you released Johnny, “I should probably go find a wagon to take John home in.” Looking back towards the break room door, however, you exasperated, “I really don’t want to though.”

Exhaustion and guilt churned in your stomach. You wanted to take Doc home immediately so he could rest, but you didn’t want to deal with his stubbornness or his plus one all the way there. Not an hour ago, you had assumed he was well enough for at least one drink. Now, knowing him and how headstrong he is, he’d likely die within a couple of weeks. Without an ounce of shame on his face, at that. You really weren’t sure if you could keep yourself composed, should he or that- that cankerous jockey were to become unreasonable in any sense.

Johnny could feel your frustration radiating off of you. Thinking fast, he looked around the hallway and spotted a lonely bench. He took you by the hand and sat you both on it.

“Well, we don’t have to take him right now. A couple of minutes won’t kill ‘em.”

Maybe he was right. Allowing you and Doc a moment of space to compose yourselves after the news was probably for the best. The only reply of acceptance you could give was to lean your head on his shoulder as Johnny wrapped his arm around yours.

------------------

Thankfully, you were able to get Doc home without much of a fuss. Though, Johnny actively attempted to ignore both Doc and Kate, constantly reminding himself that he was helping you rather than them. All things considered, Doc had found himself oddly quiet during the trip and a couple days after. Johnny and you joked that the incident at the Crystal Palace had scared him straight. Although, in secret, you hoped it was true.

Your boots dragged against the dirt road and your head hung in defeat. Initially, you had set off to get groceries and some suggested medication for your brother’s condition. While you were able to get the medicine, the local grocer had been robbed, again, and was closed for the day. With its closure, there was no point in staying in town. So you turned back and headed for home.

The suspicious stench of tobacco slinked about your front porch. If you told Kate once, you told her a thousand times, you didn’t mind if she smoked. The problem was to be sure it was away from Doc. You didn’t want his symptoms to be agitated, and you definitely didn’t want him hankerin’ for one of his vices. Perhaps another reminder was needed to set things straight.

When you opened the front door, however, the smell grew even stronger.

“John? Kate?” you called out. The house was quiet, pricking your nerves in its eerie silence. The floorboards groaned as you rushed over to your brother’s room. You could taste the nicotine as it flooded the air.

You swung Doc’s door open and were blindsided by the billowing bog of vapor. Doc laid in bed, underneath the cover, but pooled in sweat. In his hand a cigarette glowed, between his legs sat an ashtray and the ends of several others. Kate lazily leaned against him like an alley cat, her lips wrapped around a glass of liquor.

Your throat swelled shut as you managed to clamor, “What the hell is goin’ on here?!”

“Well good afternoon, Sister. Glad to see shoppin’ brought you home so soon!”

“The grocer was robbed today.” you growled.

“Now ain’t that a pity,” Doc tsked as he took another drag, “Oh well, I do love whatever you make in that kitchen of yours.”

“Enough games, John. The main reason I went to town today was to get you your medicine.” you explained, tossing the package of supplies onto his lap, “And I walk in to see you lookin’ like this. Why?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Doc sat up more with a smile. “When I woke up this mornin’, Kate informed me that you had left for groceries. You should’ve seen it, I was right as rain. And this is how Kate and I decided to celebrate.”

Your jaw trembled from how hard you clenched it, “John, you can’t live like this anymore. Kate, you heard the doctor, why did you bring him cigarettes and booze?”

“If my lovin’ man says he’s feelin’ better, then he is!” Kate smirked curtly.

Were you on the moon, in a mirror world, or had everyone gone mad?! You bit your lip hard enough to bleed, “Is that how you feel, John. Truly?”

“Yes.” John said astutely.

“FINE!” you exploded, the reverberation staggered both Doc and Kate. “Why should I keep carin’ when it’s obvious that you don’t care about yourself or me! All you give a damn about is money, booze and that big nosed floozy over there!”

“Now sister! You’ve gone too-”

WHAM!

You slammed the door before another word could be said.

‘I don’t need this,’ you said to yourself, ‘and I don’t need them either!’ Just as you were stomping out your front door, a bundle of colors caught your eye. You checked under your foot, before you stepped, and found a bouquet of colorful wildflowers, neatly stacked on top of a letter.

You looked around, but there was no other soul to be seen. The paper crinkled as you unfolded the letter.

To Miss Holliday,

These last couple of months with you have been some of the happiest I’ve had in years. I’ve been wanting to tell you how I’ve felt for a while now, but I could never find the words to say aloud. But I’ve thought of a poem that’ll show you what I mean.

My sweetheart, with all the citrus

In the needles of pine,

How I’d give all the world’s

Gold to make you mine.

A tender sweetness than any

Grape from the vine,

More refreshing than water from an

Olla; crisp and divine.

On cold desert nights, you are

My star that does brightly shine.

Yes, my heart is captured

Enraptured in your twine.

So here in the sand

Is where I draw the line.

I have spoken from my soul

Now I must hear you opine.

By the end of the letter, tears had drifted onto your cheeks. A quivering smile graced your lips as you brought the letter close to your chest, eyes clenched shut. You choked down the sobs that threatened to escape your throat. Breathing through your nose slowly, you opened your eyes again with affirmation. You set the letter and flowers down on the end table next to the front door, and headed out to find Johnny.

Marching forth with determination, you had a sense of clarity that wasn’t present since Doc’s health scare. So, to Hell with him and Kate too. Why not spend time with someone who actually appreciated you?

While you were burning a trail towards town, Doc and Kate were still locked in shock from your outburst. He looked to the still smoldering end in his hand, then to the medical package that sat in his lap. Contempt locked his mouth to one side as he breathed out of his nostrils. He extinguished the cigarette butt, then got out of the covers.

“What are you going to do?” Kate asked as she slid to the edge of the bed.

“What do you think?” Doc grunted as he limped out of the room. Perhaps you were right about his condition. He had woken up just about able to jump out to bed. But now, he felt like he’d crawled out of a frozen river, with even his clothes weighing him down.

By the time he reached the front door, he realized you were long gone. And then he saw the flowers, and underneath them, a letter. His hand was held close to his chest, failing to resist his curiosity. With a roll of his fingers, he peeled the letter open and began to read.

That slimy snake, Johnny Ringo. Of course he would take advantage of Sister’s good nature, he thought to himself. Nobody, but a Cowboy, a rotten crook would impose himself upon a situation that would gain him favor in some way. Doc had to do something about it.

“Darlin’,” he called back, “get the horse and my holster.”

------------------

The streets were heavy with people and The Cowboys watched them pass by.

“So Juanito,” Curly Bill spat into the sand, “how’d your girl like your poem?”

Johnny leaned against his horse as he pondered aloud, “I don’t know. I hope she likes it though.”

“Oh no, Johnny! You just left it? How ya gonna know what she thinks?”

“We see each other all the time. I think she’d tell me when she’s ready.”

“Still though, I’d want to know what my girl thought when she saw it, if it were me.” Curly Bill shrugged.

“Looks like you’re gonna find out now, Johnny.” Ike Clanton flicked a look towards the crowd with a grin.

You emerged from the sea of people with a shy smile. The blood in your fingers turned white from how hard you wrung them. What bravado you had, washed away when you saw the back of Johnny’s hat while you were still in the crowd. The unblinking stares of The Cowboys certainly did not help matters.

“Hey, Matches! How you doin’?” Johnny smiled brightly.

“Hey, Johnny! Um, do you mind if we go for a walk?”

A couple of The Cowboys whooed and murmured amongst themselves.

“HEY! SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!” Curly Bill hollered at his nosey onlookers before turning to you and Johnny, “Don’t mind us, we’re talkin’ about somethin’ else. Enjoy your date, Juanito!”

Johnny’s tongue clicked as he hurried you on his horse. He snapped the reins and sped the both of you away. Whistles and cheers could be heard behind you despite Curly Bill’s efforts to stifle them.

“They’re too much sometimes.” Johnny muttered under his breath, much to your amusement.

One thing you learned from your trips with Johnny, was how much nature surrounded the town. Whenever you went for a walk or a picnic, there was always a fresh field, a mountain top, or a tree’s shade to enjoy. While your first trip into the valley in bloom had a special place in your heart, it always felt like a new experience.

However, this was different, and you both knew it. There was a nervousness to the quietude that was so stifling, neither of you could find the courage to speak. Nature itself shared the sentiment, there were no birds singing, nor leaves rustled in the bushes.

Click-Click

The hoof steps of Johnny’s horse were ever present, however. Sounding to the beat of a keratin covered heart, the humble creature unknowingly brought you uneasiness.

Click-Click

It was unnoticeable at first, and for most of the ride. But now it was constant and its sound couldn’t be drowned out. You didn’t want to be dramatic, however with no other noise to be heard, you felt like you needed some form of relief. With a bit of hesitation, you licked the dryness from your lips. Just as you were about to ask Johnny to stop, another sound drifted in from the backdrop.

The white noise sounded like the dead air of a phonograph. Its fuzzy buzzing did bring calmness to you, but replaced it with curiosity. It sounded so familiar, and yet, it just escaped you. But as you drew closer, its pitter pattering rhythm had clicked all the pieces together. Running water!

Out from the dead and drying bushes, suddenly sprang green and vibrant foliage. As you rounded it, the source of the sudden greenage became clear. A waterfall spouted from the twisted and serpentine roots of the oasis. Even the bedrock that held up the waterfall had been molded into stalactites that were virtually indistinguishable from the plants it supported. And coating it all was a thin layer of moss that somehow prospered, despite its hellish setting. Through its various textures and forms, the environment almost became a single organism, breathing and slumbering eternal peaceful dreams.

The shimmering emerald in the desert held you under such a spell, you had barely even noticed Johnny lowering you from his horse. At the foot of the waterfall, sat a rippling creek with turquoise water. You slipped off your boots and dipped your toes at the water’s edge. Despite the warm weather, the running water had kept the pond cool. You could have just jumped in if you had a bathing suit with you.

Johnny’s presence manifested behind you as he asked, “What’cha think?”

“Johnny, it’s beautiful. How do you keep findin’ these places?”

“I keep tellin’ ya, when ya gotta lotta free time on your hands ya just sort of stumble into them.”

“I suppose it helps if you got know how. ‘Specially someone who sleeps outdoors regularly.”

“I think you’d like it if you gave it a try.” Johnny nudged you.

“Oh I would! I know I would, that’s one of the reasons why I came here. Yes, I came here when I heard of the silver mine and prospect too, but there was a sense of freedom and opportunity to this land. They say Tombstone will be just as big as Los Angeles and San Francisco in a few years, and I don’t doubt it. But to be here and see it still untamed has been breathtakin’.

“Not to mention, you and well, even my brother are both free from the chains of city life. I may not agree with what you both do, and John, he may be flawed for sure, but I can respect livin’ by your own rules rather than what society tells you to.

“He’s been that way since he was young, ‘specially since our mother died. Our father remarried only a couple of months after her funeral… and that never sat right with John.”

You looked deeply into the pond and swirled your finger through it. Johnny peered into the same spot you were, almost as if he saw the memories you did reflected in it.

“What about you?” He asked, taking a quick glance.

“I tried to, but I suppose it never sat right with me as well. I haven’t spoken to our father since I left for Tombstone. I reckon I don’t plan on it either.

“When John left, he would write to me all the time, tellin’ me all about his progress in dentistry. But when he was diagnosed with his condition, the same that took our mother and our other two siblings, our letters slowed to a crawl. He would promise me that one day he would pick me up and we’d be free to find our future for ourselves. But he never did, so… I did it for myself. I had hoped when I sent him that letter, that he would come and we could be a family again. But, well, uh… sorry! I’m just ramblin’ now.” you laughed in an attempt to change the subject.

Johnny took a smooth black stone from the ground and inspected it. With a snap of his wrist he sent the stone skipping across the pond’s rippled surface.

“You know,” Johnny began, “I left my family when my old man passed too, guess I was a foolhardy kid. Tried to go back and see them, but they wanted no part of me either. But I don’t think they ever knew what it was like when he… uh…”

A wave of rigidity enveloped Johnny’s form. The only true sense of life to him was seen in his darting eyes and his tongue swishing inside his cheek.

You placed your hand on his back, “What happened?”

“I don’t know what really happened. We were headin’ out West and found a spot to stretch our legs from being cooped in the wagon all day. He took the shotgun to make sure the spot was all clear and I trailed behind him. I don’t know if he twisted his ankle, or he held the gun too tight. When he stepped off that wagon, I heard a bang, and he was gone. Gone in a cloud of red.

“He was a pastor. Kinda shrewd, I heard, but he meant well. He loved all of us though and tried to keep us straight laced. He’d tell us that the Lord has a plan for all of us, that there’s purpose in all of it. Well, I’m still tryna find what the purpose was in him being taken like that. If there even is a reason for all of it, that is.

“Seems strange for the divine to take a kid’s dad. To have him see a less deserving man’s face that way, or what was left of it anyway.

“I guess, even more strange, is a family abandoning one of their own when he needed them most.”

Johnny’s story pierced your heart like a steel javelin. You knew how much of a good person he could be. Sure, he could’ve made better lifestyle choices, but he certainly tried around you. Was the way in which Johnny’s family treated him the same as how you had been treating Doc? Were you pushing Doc away when he needed you most, as well?

Worry gripped your heart and began to strangle it. You asked yourself, ‘So, there was somethin’ more I had to do for my brother? What else could I possibly do to make him understand that somebody cares?’ Just as your mind began to spin…

“Huh, thinkin’ over it now…” Johnny pondered aloud as he rose to skip another stone, “Maybe… I was askin’ too much of ‘em.”

“How do you figure that?”

“When I left, I was still a boy and I hadn’t returned until a couple of months before you came. What I had done, for better or for worse, had all reached my folks long before I even thought about going back. I had thought that I could go back. But as far as they knew, I was a monster wearing their Johnny’s clothing.

“They all lost Pa that day too, and not a single one of ‘em else killed a man except for me. They continued being good, honest folk after seeing his face, like I did. They all moved on and kept believin’, and… I just couldn’t.

“All the crimes I’ve done, not once had He struck me down for it. Made me wish He did when Ma closed the door on me. Only thing I could do then was realize that I couldn’t blame anyone except myself.”

While you still ached for your brother, Johnny’s recollection had brought your heart a bit more at ease. You wanted to do everything you could for Doc, and even set him on the right path if you could. But the fact of the matter was, he didn’t even want to help himself. He made that very clear that morning. Regardless of your intentions, it ultimately was up to him to decide how he lived.

Perhaps, you pondered to yourself, Doc… wasn’t planning on living much longer. Maybe he was just planning to have a bit more fun before he was gone. The thought alone almost made you sick, and yet, if it was his choice, who were you to say otherwise, if his condition really was so unbearable? You just wished he tried more with the time he had left.

Glancing to your Cowboy, you concluded that, yes, you wished Doc tried more, like Johnny did.

“Yes, you don’t always make the best choices, Johnny. Despite my worries.” you nodded as you slid your boots back on, “I don’t like where you get your money or how you get it, and I’m sure I don’t like who you get it from, either. It doesn’t make sense that you have such a good head on your shoulders and still live the life that you live. But, when you take your time out of your day to walk me to and from work, to share your interests with me and listen when I share mine, when you stood up for my womanhood, when you kept The Cowboys from hurtin’ my brother, despite what may have transpired, when you were there for me when I was told my brother was going to die, and you helped me through it, every step of the way; Mr. John Peters Ringo, I’d reckon you’d ought to keep things in perspective.”

Johnny’s back was turned towards you, his coat billowed gently with the breeze. You awaited his response, but it was too long for your tastes.

You stepped up beside him and gave him a short shove with your hip, and he stumbled a few soggy steps into the water. His boots and pants were soaked and he looked to you with clenched teeth from the sudden chill. However, your smug grin ignited him like red to a bull.

He sprinted towards you, leaving you no time to scramble away. Scooping you up onto his shoulders, he waded back to the pond and hung you over the cold, crisp water. You squeaked as you pleaded, “Johnny Ringo, don’t you dare!”

That same smug grin you had was reflected on him, and then he let go. You thought you fell into the water, but the cold never came. You fluttered one eye open and saw you were still safe in his arms.

“Got’cha, didn’t I?” he smirked down at you. A scoff and a quick slap to his chest was all the answer he needed and began walking you back to dry land.

Before you could walk away, Johnny pulled you back to him by your wrist. Tripping over yourself, you fell into his chest. He secured you in his arms and gently hugged you.

“Hey, thanks for all that. I needed it.” he whispered as he placed his cheek on your forehead.

A heartfelt smile graced your lips and you settled into his embrace. Your eyes closed as you hummed, “You have been the best thing that has happened to me since I’ve met you.”

And perhaps, that was what Johnny wanted to hear all his life, to be needed by someone as much as he needed them. You felt his breaths become heavy and strained. He gripped you so intensely, that his fingers stung your back. You felt him struggling while his throat constricted and his eyes were painfully shut tight, barely containing this flood of feeling he’d never had.

Though you weren’t sure if you could comprehend fully how he felt, your own heart swelled. When Johnny revealed this side of himself to you, you saw visions of primordial metaphors, messages even the most humble of beasts understood. To yearn for a touch and not just feel pain or lust. For someone else to hold his heart, whose chains wrung out his back from its weight. For another to witness the brilliance of his burning soul and not be blinded by it, that is what love is to a man.

In time, his pain subsided and his arms unfurled from holding you. He let out a short embarrassed laugh while thumbing his nose, but you smiled genuinely. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, and you were overjoyed that he trusted you enough with such a moment.

“I just want you to know,” he began, “it was nice to have a reason to wake up in the morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it was nice to wake up, wash up, and walk you to work. If I didn’t have work to do myself, I’d go back to camp and read something you got for me. Then when the day ended, I looked forward to walking you home and doing it all again the next day. Before you came along, I didn’t find myself the chance to read as much as I wanted to, even though it was my favorite pastime. Really, I didn’t have a reason for much of anything until you got here.”

For a man who seemed to live by his own rules, it sounded like he put a lot of effort into making his schedule around you.

“It’s nice workin’ at the Crystal Palace,” you nodded, meeting his green eyes to yours, “everyday is a new adventure. It’s always another cast of colorful characters. But, my favorite part of the day, too, was gettin’ to see you at the end of my shift everytime.”

An invisible force, beyond your comprehension, pulled you both together. Once again, you shared an embrace with both of your hearts pulsing to the same beat.

“So,” Johnny whispered into your ear, “what did you think about my letter?”

“Did you mean it?” you whispered back.

“Every word of it.”

“Then…” you concluded as you motioned his face in front of yours, “let me hear you say it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Though the sun still stood in the sky, you swore you saw stars through your kiss. The waterfall became soundless and you could see the individual flaps of a butterfly’s fluttering wings. As your eyes closed, an energy resonated through your body that was impossible to describe. It was like warming your hands next to a stove after a cold snap, or a refreshing drink after a blistering day.

The area around his mouth was abrasive, stinging your lips when you missed his, but tickling when you landed on his mustache. His lips, on the other hand, were soft and tender. You found it similar to biting into a prickly pear. Even if the spines were removed, the surface could still be bristly. However, the fruit itself, sweet and invigorating.

Your hands snaked up towards his shoulders, and as he adjusted himself to accommodate you, his hat fell to his back, revealing his fine, satiny hair. Running your fingers through it, to your surprise, it was hardly as coarse as you thought it’d be. To the contrary, it was like silk, feathery even.

Your attention was brought to his hands when he tightly grasped your arms. His fingers seemed almost wooden, from a life hard lived. And yet, despite this, his touch was loving, and much more adoring than they would imply. He reached lower, strumming up and down your back, causing you to shiver.

When Johnny held your arms, he felt goosebumps forming on your skin. Despite the long, hard hours you worked, to him, you still seemed delicate, and he took extra care to be gentle. You felt cold to his touch, but as he continued to hold you, he could feel your heat from your heart resonating underneath.

Closing his eyes as well, Johnny saw flashes of red emerging from the darkness. The experience reminded him of fireworks without the smell of gunpowder.

It transfixed Johnny with fascination, as it was like the mechanical components of the entire universe ticked along like cogs in a clock. And like such a complex mechanism, reaching its apex point at the twelfth hour, so too did the stars and planets align for that moment. Once the moment passed, these components resumed their typical functions, and normality returned.

When your eyes opened again, the sun had turned the sky orange and purple. You released yourselves from that explosive moment, while panting and with wobbly legs. You leaned into each other, gathering your bearings, when you touched one another’s forehead in consolidation.

Vulnerability swept over you, like a herbivore fleeing from the hunt. Your stomach was dropping as if you were staring off the edge of a cliff. Despite feeling this instinctual sensation, however, the thrill only made you desperately want to go back and continue where you left off with him. Perhaps just… a bit more, even?

Such intrusive thoughts added shame to your already stewing goulash of emotions. You weren’t that kind of girl, so why were you in such a conflict with yourself?

Johnny had a glint in his eye as he, too, hungered for more. Yet, your indecisiveness was palpable. He rubbed his neck and clenched his teeth, as he smoothed his hair back up for his hat. When his lady fair is ready, after all.

You, on the other hand, weren’t looking to spoil the mood. Even then, when you stepped forward, motioning him with a tilt of your head, his gaze softened. The glint from his eyes vanished and he shook his head slowly.

“We ain’t gotta.” he hummed as he placed his hands on your shoulders, kissing your forehead.

The boiling cauldron of emotions was extinguished by his integrity. Its weight, all of it, vanished. Your mouth twisted up into a sheepish, yet grateful, smile, “Thank you.”

He nodded with a half grin of his own. Needing to satiate himself somehow, Johnny pulled out a cigarette and match. As the black smoke filled his lungs, he leaned against a rock and waved for you to sit on a stone right next to him.

The stone’s cold surface made your body clench when you took a seat upon it. Once again, silence had bewitched the both of you. While the silence was once welcomed, it seemed that recently, there was always tension within it. You had thought, once you both have had your feelings for each other recognized, that the heaviness would subside. Yet, there you were, the question popped, and it felt like you were still at the starting line.

It was so asinine, so absurd… that you started to laugh.

“What is it?” Johnny asked, catching your contagious chuckle.

“What are we doin’, Johnny?” you happily sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are we actin’ like a pair of school children?”

Johnny paused for a moment, then replied, “I guess, for me, it was ‘cause I never had something like this before.”

You nodded, “That’s fair, I can’t say that I’m not in the same boat. But let’s not waste time worryin’, when we can be enjoyin’ ourselves as we did before today.”

Johnny sighed with smoke pooling from his nostrils, “Yeah. I can get behind that.”

He leaned further back onto the rock he perched himself upon and looked up to the first stars of the sky.

“So,” Johnny inquired, “know any of them constellations?”

“Only a couple of the big ones, The Dippers, Orion, and such. Ever dabbled with zodiacs and horoscopes?”

He pshawed, “I don’t believe in that hogwash.”

“I didn’t say I believed in it! I just think it’s fun, is all.” You insisted with a light push.

Your combined laughter trailed into the wind, and you continued to enjoy each other’s companionship, while there was still light in between the stars.

------------------

The purple and orange sky had long since vanished into the night. Outside of a few gaslit street lamps, Tombstone was surprisingly absent of the usual nightlife. There weren’t even any lights coming from your own cottage upon your approach.

Nevertheless, the eeriness of it all couldn’t take away the wonderful time you had with Johnny. In fact, the solitude of the sleeping town had its own charm, in a way. It was as if the two of you were the only inhabitants of the entire town; or the entire world, at that.

You tiptoed up your porch with Johnny trailing behind. You weren’t trying to attract any unwanted attention to yourself and him, nor disturb anyone within your own household.

“Why are we being so mousy?” Johnny whispered.

“We’re not, I just don’t want to be rude.” you assured him as you pulled out your house key, carefully unlocking the door. “It’s very late, are you sure you wouldn’t want to stay in one of my spare rooms?”

“That’s nice of you. But I’d rather not, I don’t want problems with your brother in the morning.”

You were disappointed, but more so, you felt guilty for Johnny. You felt as though he shouldn’t have had to be at the mercy of Doc’s whims, especially since it was your house at the bottom line. Relenting the thought, you gave Johnny a tight hug while sighing, “Well, be safe on your way back to camp, you hear?”

“I’ll try.” Johnny teased as he placed one last kiss on your lips.

After a deep hug, you shared your goodbye’s and waved as Johnny galloped off into the sleepy desert.

Sneaking past the front door, you shuffled into the front room, stepping over the floorboards that creak. Before you could make it to your room, a presence within the room froze your blood cold.

“Good evenin’, sister.”

A piercing scream rang out from your throat, as you jumped towards the door. Your eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, when you finally recognized the voice.

“John? What are you doin’ sittin’ here in the dark… again?” you asked with a hand clenching your heart.

“Waitin’ for my Dear Sister’s return, again.” Doc noted while lighting a lantern, “You were out for a long time with Johnny Ringo, I presume.”

“You would presume correct.” you replied, crossing your arms. ‘I suppose it was a blessin’ in disguise that Johnny decided against stayin’.’

Though expressionless, you saw Doc’s grip tightening on the arm of the sofa, “I presume you both waltzed off as friends, again?”

“Not anymore.”

“Come again?”

“Unlike my own brother, and his tramp, Johnny tries his best by me. He always had, and…” you sucked in a mouthful of air, “and I love him for it.”

Doc arose from his chair slowly and blinked with the eyes of a cold-blooded crocodile. With nothing else to say, he slithered back into his den, without another sound.

This small victory could’ve lifted you off the floor with joy. ‘If only Johnny was here to see it!’ you thought as you blew out the lantern for the night.

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#johnny ringo #john peters ringo #johnny ringo x reader #doc holliday #john henry holliday #tombstone #tombstone 1993 #cowboys #cowboy #western #old west #western romance #romance #drama #x reader #reader insert #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

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curlysgirl0202 · 4 months

Text

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!!!

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