Looking into the mirror, she glanced sadly at the empty bed across the room. Britches was gone. On learning of the attempted abduction, her parents had flown down in the company jet to get her. Britches had told them not to come, saying she was okay, but they had been insistent.
Lara had driven with her and Alison to the airport to meet the plane and Britches had given them both a tearful hug. They had exchanged addresses and Lara had promised Britches she would come to visit her when the schedule permitted.
"Miss Croft, Teresa and I are grateful for your rescuing Julie," Mr. Darwood had said. "Please convey that to Mr. Spade when he gets out of the hospital."
It turned out that Spade had not been seriously injured. Although six stitches had been required to close the cut in his forehead and he had been held overnight in the hospital for observation, the doctor had released him the next day.
Lara's own injuries were not severe either. Only her thigh had required more than superficial treatment. She wore a bandage for that and would do so for another week.
Trying to cheer Lara up, Belle had suggested that they rob the banks again. Lara had not really been interested, but went along with it, hoping to break out of her rundown mood. It had turned out to be a mistake, because this time Sheriff Branson had surprised them, backed by Earp and Hickcock. The two women had been arrested and sentenced to wash the dinner dishes. To make matters worse, Wyatt and Bill swaggered around town, bragging to everyone what great lawmen they were.
Lara sighed as she sat at the dressing table. She hadn't seen Spade since he got out of the hospital and she wondered how he was feeling. Maybe it was time to pay him a visit.
That brought a smile to her face. She got up and was halfway to the door when it opened and a blonde-haired young woman wearing a cowboy hat came into the room.
"Julie!" Lara gaped in disbelief.
"Lara!"
The two women hugged fiercely.
"I just had to come back," Julie said into Lara's hair. "I missed you so much!"
"I missed you, too, young lady."
As Julie changed for dinner, Lara saw that the swelling in her friend's face was gone. Julie was wearing a touch more makeup than she usually did, to help cover the almost-healed bruise on her cheek, but other than that, she looked fine.
Julie told Lara that she had dragged around the house, wishing she could have stayed in Silverado. She had talked about it so much that her parents had finally relented and allowed her to return.
"Daddy was gonna fly me back here, but the Gulfstream was in New York today, so I decided to drive."
Lara's eyebrows went up. "You did? It must at least four hundred miles."
Julie reached down to tie her shoes. "So what? It was a good drive and I got to see some of the country."
Lara smiled. "Well, Julie, no matter how you got here, I'm just glad to see you."
Julie glanced up. "Uh, Lara? Could we just go back to bein' Britches 'n Annie again? At least through tomorrow? I'd just as soon forget about the....ah...Julie part of it and enjoy what's left of our time here."
"Sure, Britches," Lara replied. "And you know, we never did get to go for a ride. How about tomorrow morning?"
* * * * *
Saturday was a beautiful day. The temperature was just right for a horseback ride and the sky was a solid blue. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and Britches sighed when she parted the curtains and looked outside, wishing it was any other day but going-home day. But it had been good to come back just the same; worth every mile of the drive. Maybe she could talk Lara into driving back with her. That would be fun.
"Penny for your thoughts, Britches."
Britches dropped the curtain and turned to her roommate. "Oh, I was just thinking how much I've enjoyed it here. I think it'd be great to work at a place like this."
"What kind of job do you have in your 'other life'?"
Britches sighed. "Nothing very exciting. I'm a secretary to one of Daddy's assistants." She made a face. "C'mon, Annie. Enough talk. Let's go ride."
Annie got up and headed to the closet. "First we eat. I'm hungry."
She pulled open the door and took her gunbelt down from the hook. Britches thought it was really beautiful, what with all the silver studs and everything. It must have cost a fortune.
Britches' eyes widened when Annie handed the belt to her. "Let's trade today, Britches. I'll take your fast-draw rig and maybe you can give me some pointers."
"Really?" It would be cool to walk down the street wearin' Annie fancy rig.
* * * * *
Three quarters of an hour later they emerged from the dining room.
"Britches," said Annie, "why don't you head down to the stable and get out horses ready. I need to go back to the room for a minute and then I have to talk with Mrs. Kenton about a couple of things."
Britches nodded. "Sure thing. But hurry up, okay?" She was really looking forward to riding. As long as they didn't go to The Bottoms. Anyplace else would be fine.
She crossed the lobby and stepped out onto the sidewalk...and stared in amazement. The street was crowded with people and all of them were wearing modern dress. She retraced her steps into the lobby and went to the counter.
Alison Kennedy, in her role as Abby Kenton, owner of the hotel, looked up and smiled. "Good Morning, Britches. Can I help you?"
Britches hooked her thumb toward the street. "What's going on outside? Who are all the people?"
Mrs. Kenton made a face. "Tourists. A couple times a month, management brings in busloads of people, hoping to drum up some business. It's a moneymaker for the park, pure and simple. Another reason, I guess, is to keep good relations with the local area. Some of the politicians around here complain that this is too exclusive a place." She waved her hand. "Just ignore them. They'll be gone in a few hours."
Britches thanked her and stepped out onto the sidewalk. It would be good to get away from these people and their noise. All the shorts and sandals and tank tops were totally out of place.
"Man, Ted, look over there," said a voice to her right.
"I'd sure like to lasso that," replied another voice. "Hey, cowgirl, what's your name?"
A loud wolf-whistle followed.
Like most pretty women, Britches had learned to ignore catcalls. She kept walking, hoping they would find something else to amuse their feeble minds.
But it was not to be. She heard footsteps behind her on the sidewalk and soon a young man came up beside up her.
"Hey there, cowgirl," he taunted as they walked along. "You're looking mighty pretty this morning."
Britches said nothing, staring straight ahead.
"You work here?"
Still she didn't reply.
"What's a pretty lady like you doing with all them guns? Are you a sheriff or something?"
No reply.
"I mean, those are pretty fancy. Can I take a look?" So saying, he reached over and pulled at the gun at her right side. He actually had it half way out of the holster when Britches slapped his hand away.
"Keep your hands to yourself!" she said angrily, turning to face him. "Why don't you go bother someone else?" He was about twenty, tall and well built, with dark, curly hair and blue eyes. Probably some sports hero in school, who thought he was every girl's dream.
"Whoa," he exclaimed, backing up a step. "The little cowgirl has a temper."
"What's you name?" she demanded.
"Ted," he said proudly. "Ted, the lady killer."
"Do you see those girls across the street?"
Puzzled, he turned to look. A small group of teenage girls was watching, laughing and giggling.
"Go talk to them, lady killer," she snapped. "They're more your speed."
She'd gone four steps when she heard his voice. "But, cowgirl. You're the only one I'll ever love."
Go sell it somewhere else, she muttered to herself. Yuk! Why did they think a girl liked that kind of attention?
Reaching the end of the sidewalk, she stepped down and headed for the livery stable. It would be good to get away from this…
"Hey, you," said another voice.
Not again? She kept walking.
"You, with the fancy guns," said the voice. "Turn around."
This is getting really old, she thought.
"Turn around, girl. I'm not going to tell yu again."
Sick of it, Britches whirled around. "Just shut it, mister, I'm tired of…."
She paused, her mouth open. Standing in the street was not some school age punk, but Arizona.
'What's the matter, girl?" he taunted. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Britches paled as she realized what was about to happen. Suddenly she wished she'd worn her fast-draw rig this morning, instead of Annie's guns. And then her heart almost stopped when she realized she hadn't even checked to see if they were loaded.
The gunfighter started walking toward her, the jingle of his spurs very loud in the suddenly quiet street. People lined the sidewalk, watching curiously to see if the gunman was going to cut down the little cowgirl. It didn't look like much of a contest. Anyone within fifty feet could see that she was afraid.
She couldn't fight him. Not again. She wasn't ready. She hadn't even thought about Arizona since...
It would happen again, sure as the sun came up in the morning. She had to get away from here. Her years of fast-draw practice suddenly meant nothing. Nothing at all. Arizona's eyes bored into her and Julie Darwood was afraid. Afraid of this man. Afraid of getting shot again.
Where was Annie? Why wasn't she here to help? Why didn't she come? They were supposed to watch out for each other and…
"How does it feel, little girl?" he taunted. "Knowin' you're gonna look into my gun like you did the other day? You're afraid, ain't ya? I can see it on your face." He glanced at the crowd. "She ain't nothing but a city girl, folks, pretendin' to be something she ain't."
Julie took a step back. "I…I…I can't fight you, mister," she stammered. "I…I'm going for a ride." Her face burning with shame, she turned her back to him and headed for the stable. She'd never put on a gun again. Not as long a she lived. Every time she looked in the mirror she would remember his eyes.
She'd gone but three steps when a gunshot crashed out behind her. Julie cringed, waiting for the burning in her back. One second. Two. Three. Four. Where was it?
"Stop right there, girl," said his voice from behind her. "You ain't walkin' away from this like some yella-bellied coward. Turn around or the next one won't be in the air."
She stopped, suddenly realizing that she couldn't walk away from this fight. He wouldn't let her. She would have to stand and face him.
And it was then that Julie Darwood reached into a part of herself where she had never gone before. She'd always been outspoken against things she thought were wrong in her little world, but she had never thought of herself as having physical courage. And yet, without realizing it, she had repeatedly demonstrated that she had it in abundance.
And so, it was with a great deal of surprise that she found the spark within her that had actually been there all along. Julie took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.
"I suppose you're determined to do this?" she called, her back still toward him.
"That's right, girl," he replied. "Turn around and let's finish it."
Julie glanced back over her shoulder, turning slowly toward him.
"Well, look at that," he sneered. "She 's gonna fight after all. I'm gonna put a…"
Julie's right hip was facing away from the gunfighter when her hand closed around the gun at her side. Because of that, it was out of the holster and turning toward him before the gunman saw it. Surprised, he pulled his guns with lightning speed and his shots were almost even with hers. The twin beams of laser light from his revolvers cut through the distance between them.
But Julie was not there. She had dropped low onto her right knee as she'd brought up her gun and the laser pulses passed over her head. Arizona didn't get another shot, because the short pulse of light from her own pistol nailed him six inches below his chin.
It happened so fast that the crowd watching could only gasp. One moment, he had been standing there taunting her and the next instant his guns flew out of his hands and he spun around and fell headfirst in the street.
For a moment, Little Britches remained motionless, the gun in her outstretched hand, unable to believe she had actually survived.
"…see that? The girl shot him…" The words seemed to push their way through the haze into her consciousness. "...can't believe …have to come back again…something else…great show…see more of…"
A show? Come back to see more? Britches snapped wide-awake, staring at the gawking tourists. They were ruining it. Desecrating this special place with their shorts and their portable CD players.
She shoved the revolver angrily back into her belt and turned toward the livery stable. I've got to get out of here, she thought. Got to get away from all this noise and…
"Come back here, girl," a voice called from behind her.
Go away, whoever you are.
"Stop. Right now. I wanna talk to you."
Got to get out of here.
The footsteps were getting closer. "Turn around, girl," said the voice. "I'm not gonna tell…"
Faster than she would have believed possible, Britches spun around. The gun seemed to leap into her hand and the crash of the shot followed the laser light by only a split second.
The pulse of light leaped across the intervening thirty feet…and struck Sheriff Matt Branson. His eyes widened in shock and his hands came up to clutch his chest. He stumbled backward three steps and collapsed.
Britches' eyes grew wide when she realized what she'd done.
Again the voices pushed their way into her consciousness. "…shot the sheriff!…don't believe it…gun-crazy!…gotta stop 'er…string 'er up!…"
She turned to the crowd and her anger spilled over. "All right!" she yelled as loud as she could. "Is that enough show for you?"
The voices quieted as the stunned spectators watched with open mouths.
"You want more? You want more? Well, c'mon! Who's next? Who else wants a piece of me?"
No one said a word.
"C'mon, you cowards! All you know how to do a laugh and giggle. Why don't you go back where you came from." She drew her other gun and began to back toward the livery stable, daring someone to make a move toward her.
Something caught her eye. She swung to see Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill Hickcock running toward her.
"You want some of me, gents?"
Apparently not. The two men skidded to a halt and lifted their hands.
She glared at them as she continued to back up. She had to get to her horse and get away from....
Then she heard the footsteps behind her.
Go to Chapter Eighteen