Chapter Text
The following morning, Holtzmann threw a pair of worn buckskin pants on their bed.
”Makes it easier to ride.”
Erin looked at them with hesitation.
”I’ve never worn pants before.”
”You’re going to want to skip the corset as well. Not convenient in the saddle.”
The soft leather felt strange against her skin. Comfortable and a little bit intrusive. She wasn’t used to wearing anything that clung to her legs. Holtzmann had given her one of her shirts as well. Going without a corset felt decadent, but so comfortable. She might get ideas in her head about going without permanently. She put the fabric to her nose and inhaled. It smelled comfortingly of Holtzmann. She had noticed lately how more and more of their things smelled like both of them, merged.
Holtzmann stared at her when she came out from behind the screen. She made no effort to hide it.
”You look…”
”...ridiculous?”
Erin sighed. Not everyone could pull off dressing like Holtzmann.
”That was not what I was going to say…”
Erin felt strange dressed like this. She had never worn anything like it: tight fitting, revealing. Men’s clothing, technically. Holtzmann’s eyes on her made herself conscious. But at the same time, wearing pants made her feel free and unrestrained.
Patty’s handsome farmhand was waiting for them on the porch with his usual vacant smile.
"Erin. Ready to hark a foss? Snark an iron?"
Holtzmann sighed.
"Kevin… Sweet, sweet Kev. I've told you, it's 'fork a hoss'. And it's 'bark', OK buddy?"
"Sure thing, boss."
"Patty's your...Oh, never mind."
Holtzmann turned to Erin.
"Patty showed Kevin a book about old-timey frontier slang. It did not turn out well."
Erin was glad that there was at least one person worse at coping with the realities of the frontier than she was.
She stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the giant tied up outside the saloon, next to Holtzmann's fiery paint.
”Oh, OK… BIG horse… Big horse…”
She took a deep breath and tried to stop her hands from shaking.
Then she noticed the amused look on Holtzmann’s face.
”That one's Patty’s. He won't let anyone but her handle him. I think it’s better if you ride with me the first time. Handling a horse on your own is a tall order on your first ride.”
Holtzmann jumped up on the little pinto’s back.
”Kevin?”
Before Erin had time to gather herself, she was grabbed, yanked up and gracelessly deposited behind Holtzmann by the big man.
”Hold on tight.”
She did. She suspected she held on tight enough for Holtzmann to have issues breathing, but still felt terrified when the horse started moving.
When she felt safe enough to relax a little, she realised how close they were. How she could feel her body heat against her chest and stomach through the soft material of her unfamiliar, borrowed clothes. No sharp angles. She shouldn't be thinking about it: she should be worried that a gang of outlaws were a threat to their safety, but she hadn’t been this close to someone since before she got divorced and hardly even then. Her husband hadn't been a tactile man.
After a while, she relaxed enough to notice how Holtzmann’s firm backside created a soft pressure between her spread legs. An image of how Holtzmann’s lady friend had touched her and kissed her so casually and sensually at the same time flashed through her mind. Embarrassed, she noticed how her body responded. She shifted subtly closer to her fellow rider, craving the touch.
Holtzmann looked back over her shoulder.
”If you’re afraid, grab some mane to steady yourself.”
”I trust you way more than I do the horse, I’ll hold on to you, thank you.”
These strange new clothes seem to heighten her awareness of her body. She shifted and bit back a groan as her nipples, unprotected by a corset, scraped against the soft chemise and worn leather of Holtzmann’s jacket and hardened. Holtzmann asked if she was OK and she answered yes with a voice she didn’t recognise. It felt good. It really, really wasn’t supposed to.
They arrived at a big empty field with a row of assorted debris at one end. She realised this was Holtzmann's private shooting range. An empty barrel looked like it had been pierced by hundreds of bullets. Holtzmann unpacked the saddle bags and laid assorted weapons out on a horse blanket.
"OK, let me walk you through how this puppy works."
"That barrel looks longer than a regular one?"
Erin was no fan of either violence or guns, but she had to admit that she was fascinated by what Holtzmann could do. There had to be a reason even Patty said that Holtzmann scared her sometimes.
"Yup. It’s a Colt Longline Holtzmann special.”
”Holtzmann special? They make those...?”
”After a fashion. I've made it.”
”You’ve made this? From scratch?”
”Not quite. I used a standard model as a base and then made some...modifications.”
Erin gaped when Holtzmann showed her what that gun could do. She didn’t know such precision and speed was possible. She threw a coin in the air and pierced it easily. It was an extremely scary weapon. And beautiful: crushed glass like pieces of yellow diamond was embedded in the handle.
Holtzmann let her hold it in her hand, safety on, just to get a feel for it. Erin could feel its power even when it was resting. She didn’t necessarily want to learn to shoot a gun and she certainly didn’t want to know how to use it on a human being. But… there was a weapon in Holtzmann’s collection that intrigued her. Dark steel, and something that looked like a red rose engraved on the barrel. She reached out to touch it.
”NO! Not that gun. It’s not finished yet. It’s yours when it is.”
Holtzmann rummaged through her pockets.
”In the meantime, take this.”
”This” was the beat-up pocket knife. Not what Erin had imagined when Holtzmann said she would teach her how to use a weapon…
”This is the frontier and no woman should walk around unarmed.”
”Yeah… I know how that works.”
Holtzmann gave her a gun with a worn handle. Much smaller than the fearsome weapon she had touched before.
"I think we should start out together, just to be safe."
Holtzmann got behind her and reached around Erin with the gun.
”'Kay, put your hands on top of mine? Do you feel it?”
Holtzmann tightened her pull on the trigger slightly. Erin could feel the increased tension in the mechanism. She closed her eyes. Holtzmann’s arms around her were warm and comforting. Her curves felt good against her touch-starved body. She could feel her soft breasts against her back and the contour of her hips pressing into her own. She felt her get up on tiptoe, so she could see over Erin’s shoulder and aim. Her soft cheek felt good against her neck.
”Yes.”
Erin heard how she sounded out of breath and told herself sternly to get her act together. Holtzmann was trying to teach her to shoot a gun, nothing else. The shock of the aggressive recoil when she fired was a huge contrast to how soft she made her feel inside.
"Now, a bullet can bounce and change direction or cause explosions. Like that time you almost got shot, remember?”
”I remember…”
Holtzmann kept giving her directions and Erin did her best to retain it all. She tried not to think about now weird it was, that she was now training to be a gunslinger as well as a scientist and teacher.
"Holtz…?"
"Mmhmm?"
"When you say that gun is mine when it's finished… Are you making that...for me?"
"Mmhmm."
"Wow. But do you think I'm ready for a gun like that? You won't even let me shoot yours."
"You’ll be ready, I'll make sure of that. Besides, I'm making you that gun so you never have to shoot anybody.”
”What do you mean?”
”That's a crazy hair trigger of a gun. Anyone who sees you with a longline special in your hand will assume you’re a crack shot who knows her guns and think twice about firing at you in the first place. If you do have to fire a warning shot, the trigger is extremely sensitive and quick, so your bullet will leave the chamber before theirs, it’s just physics. But it’ll make you seem like you know what you’re doing. Also means you have to be very careful with it.”
”...says the least careful woman in the West.”
”There are things I’m careful with…”
”Yeah. I can see that. Thank you, Holtz.”
Erin sometimes did things on impulse. Like kissing Holtzmann on the cheek.
***
As they rode home, Erin was exhausted, sweaty and had a blister in a very undignified place, as well as on her trigger finger. Holtzmann had made her ride the horse alone and after an hour, Erin was more convinced than ever that the animal hated her. She leaned her tired head on Holtzmann's shoulder. Her teacher reached back and put her hand on her thigh and caressed it supportively.
"How're you holding up?"
Holtzmann had gotten increasingly tactile after the night Erin had shown her she was comfortable enough to be naked with her. And so had Erin, if she were to be honest with herself. Holtzmann was probably just touching Erin because that's what she did, not because she was special. Erin wondered about Holtzmann’s women. There was more than one, both Abby and Patty had confirmed it. So: Holtzmann was a player and a cad. She told herself to be careful. But she didn't want to be careful. She wanted Holtzmann to leave her hand where it was.
And, for the first time, she admitted to herself that she wanted Holtzmann to kiss her like she kissed the woman in the red blouse...
***
Whiskey lullaby
That night, Erin got riotously drunk for the first time in her life. She didn't mean to, she just loved the way the rich, dark whiskey made her feel and the way having too many shots of it made euphoria course through her veins. It made her feel like that woman who kissed Holtzmann: brazenly confident, seeing something she wanted and going after it. Also like the other woman in the street that same afternoon: the one Holtzmann looked at with bedroom eyes when Erin leaned out the window. Small, curvy, black hair, gorgeous. She remembered every detail, and hated it.
Abby gently took the bottle away after a few hours, when she noticed how Erin had trouble sitting up straight.
"I'm cutting you off. I know you don't believe me right now, but it's for your own good."
She grumbled and complained for a while, saying she was perfectly sober, even though she could hear from her own voice that she was nothing of the sort. Her complaining stopped when she felt increasingly queasy.
"Don't worry, I got this."
Holtzmann gently coaxed her off of her precarious place on the barstool and off to their room. Erin objected to save her own dignity, but her heart wasn't in it.
"Come on, we have to get you to bed. You need to sleep this off."
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
Holtzmann just shook her head, like she had no idea what she was talking about.
"Drink some water for me, OK?"
Holtzmann sat on the edge of the bed until she did.
"Try to sleep. I'll sit with you for a while."
”Don't let me keep you. I'm sure you'd rather be with your lady friends. Plural!”
”I haven’t seen Laura in ages. Or Julieta.”
Holtzmann’s voice was so soft, Erin almost didn’t hear her.
Drunkenly, she slapped Holtzmann’s arm away when she tried to touch her.
”Liar. I saw you talk to one of them earlier in the street. Liar…”
Erin heard how petulant she sounded, but she was too drunk to care.
”Yeah… That was more like getting screamed at. But I haven’t seen them, seen them.”
”You haven’t…?”
”Nope.”
Erin stopped fighting her.
There was a warm hand rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades as she drifted off to sleep. It felt good.
”Apparently, I’m in love with someone else…”
But Erin doesn’t hear Holtzmann’s whisper in the dark room, she’s fast asleep.
***
The next morning, Erin wakes up half on top of Holtzmann, with the worst headache of her life. She feels way too sick to feel mortified about apparently wrapping herself around her roommate in her sleep. It makes it worse that Holtzmann is sweet to her and holds her hair as she throws up in a bucket that her roommate apparently realised they needed, right next to the bed. Like a gentleman, she tiptoes up and puts the stinky mess outside the door.
Erin realised how little she’s wearing and how dishevelled she looked. Holtzmann must have helped her undress. It was mortifying. She felt her stomach lurch at the thought that she might have...
”We didn’t… Did we?”
What if she had thrown herself at Holtzmann in the middle of the night? Made an even bigger fool of herself than she thought?
”No!”
Holtzmann looks almost angry, and definitely offended.
”How can you ask me that? I wouldn’t… Not while you were in that condition!”
Erin’s head is throbbing, and she feels a flash of annoyance at Holtzmann for giving her a hard time. How can she expect her to know, when there are strange women in their bed all the time, for all Erin knows? She remembers the beautiful brunette in the street and feels a hot anger in the pit of her stomach.
”I’m sorry, but you do have a bit of a reputation.”
It's a mean and hateful thing to say, but she feels awful and lashed out before she could stop herself.
”I don’t have a reputation for THAT. I would never take liberties a with a drunk woman against her will!”
Erin had it on the tip of her tongue to say that it might not have been against her will at all, to the contrary. But Holtzmann storms out and slams the door. Too late, Erin realised that she had really hurt her.
She spent a miserable day trying to read and eat greasy food that Abby brought to cure the hangover. Her stomach refused to accept anything but sarsaparilla. All she could think of was Holtzmann.
Her roommate stumbled back in close to midnight, reeking of whisky and cheap perfume that was definitely not hers. Erin’s apologies died in her mouth as her roommate silently took her shirt off and dipped a cloth in their wash basin to remove the traces of another woman from her skin. She skipped her usual goodnight and curled up with her back to Erin. Erin listened to her snore softly as she cried quietly into her pillow.
***
She hears Holtzmann sneak out early next morning. The soft click of the door feels like a slap.
She meets Patty downstairs. She's come in for some breakfast before going to get supplies, with the less than able help of Kevin.
"Did something happen between you and Holtzy yesterday? Girl came down face like a cloud and spent the day at Boxcar Joes poker game. Did some heavy drinking, by the looks of it? Holtzmann ain't been down Boxcar Joe's in ages. Abby and I couldn't get two words out of her when she came back.”
Erin felt terrible. She’d hurt someone who’d done nothing but look out for her.
"Not sure poker was Holtzmann's main focus yesterday. I think she might have had an appointment with a woman."
"What makes you say that?"
"Holtzmann doesn't use rose water or lavender perfume…"
Patty guffaws heartily.
”Yeah, that would be from getting slapped a bunch of times with a perfumed glove. Seems not all her lady friends are fans of her having a new woman to warm her bed.”
”But we’re not… Holtzmann and I don’t…”
"I hear you, but they don't know that! All they see is some woman who waltzed into Ghost Town out of nowhere and shares her bed and gets to stay the night, which none of them ever do, I'll tell you that."
"They...don't?"
"Nuh-uh. That’s nothing but fun for Holtzmann, she's never been serious about any of them."
"So, I've ruined Holtzmann's love life. That's great."
"Nah. She just lost interest. None of them were a match for Holtzy intellectually. You're the only one except for me and Abby who even gets what she's talking about."
"It's none of my business who Holtzmann sleeps and doesn’t sleep with, of course."
"Mmmhmmm."
Patty looked like she might laugh when she said it.
***
Erin goes to look for Holtzmann and finds her on the porch steps with Abby. She tries not to eavesdrop. But she can't help it when she hears her name. She can't make out the rest of the sentence.
Holtzmann leaned her head on Abby's shoulder.
"I've never been… I mean, not like this."
Abby stroked her back soothingly.
"I know, buddy."
They sit like that for a few minutes before Abby goes back in. Holtzmann stays. She picks listlessly with a cigarillo but doesn't light it.
"Holtz? Can we talk?"
Holtzmann shrugs, but Erin sits down next to her anyway, even though she still won't look at her.
"I'm sorry."
Carefully, she touches her hand. Aligns her fingers with Holtzmann's.
"It was a horrible thing to say. I didn't mean it and I'm really, really sorry."
Holtzmann's hand responds and her fingers braid with Erin's.
"OK?"
Holtzmann squeezes her hand.
"OK."
She says it again. And again, until that night, when Holtzmann squeezes her hand again and says that she gets it. Erin says good, because she's going to say it until she believes her.
***
Transparent
The following week, Holtzmann takes her riding and shooting every afternoon after work. She still jokes about hating horses, but she has to admit, she's getting better at it every day. She rides on her own by Saturday. Holtzmann borrowed Abby's kind natured Dumpling, who doesn't throw even the most amateurish of riders off and Erin finds him easier to handle than Holtzmann's fast, hot-headed little Ecto. She's almost disappointed with the success. She misses sitting close to Holtzmann, arms wrapped around her.
Her shooting is improving too: yesterday she managed to hit a rusty old can twice in the same place. Holtzmann said that she would let her shoot her longline special today.
She sees Abby and Patty in the distance and waves. They’re wrapped up in conversation.
***
”You think they know?”
”Do I think Holtz knows she wants to be more than roommates with Erin? Oh yes.”
”Yeah, but...that whole thing?”
Patty gestures at Holtzmann, who smiles at Erin, bows in an exaggerated manner and kisses her hand. Erin looks like she’s pretending to be annoyed, but obviously isn’t.
”Does she know she’s in love, you mean?”
”Does Erin know?”
”I offered her a room of her own. She declined, said she was fine with sharing with Holtzmann.”
Patty’s eyebrows hiked up her forehead.
”Really?”
”Yeah… And have you noticed how she doesn’t seem to be house hunting either?”
”Damn. Those two are just so transparent.”
***
I’ll waltz you, my darling
Erin had just meant to rest her eyes for a few minutes but was woken by Holtzmann over an hour later. She hoped that she hadn't noticed that she was on her side of the bed. She liked the way her pillow and her sheets smelled.
Erin owned a really nice corset, that she only wore for special occasions and tonight’s barn dance definitely counted. It was winter white silk and surprisingly comfortable considering what it achieved. Not comfortable enough to sleep in, however. She couldn’t believe how long she had been out for. Now she had to hurry to get ready. She needed it tightened more, if she was to fit into the dress.
"Would you help me with this?"
Holtzmann froze.
"I mean, I can ask Abby if you don't want to..."
"Nono, it's fine."
She was pretty good at tightening it herself, Abby was even better. Corsets were not Holtzmann's domain. But Erin had caught her eyes on her in the little mirror above their wash basin. She just couldn't get enough of how Holtzmann looked at her when she wore it.
Erin hears a motion behind her and feels Holtzmann’s tentative hands. She struggles a little with the binding, her hands less secure than normally. Her fingers brush the exposed skin between the lacing and Erin shivers. She loves the way she touches her; like she’s precious.
As she changes behind the screen, all she can think about is if Holtzmann will like her in her best dress. It’s more revealing than what she normally wears, and it makes her feel beautiful. She wants Holtzmann to keep looking at her like she did when Erin caught her in the mirror.
"Do I look OK?"
As she comes out from behind the screen, there's that look again, the one Holtzmann gave her when she walked into The Olde Fire station the first time.
"I'd talk to you at Boxcar Joe's illegal poker game.”
Is Holtzmann blushing? Does she even do that? Erin chalks it down to the lighting. But when she looks in the mirror a few minutes later, Holtzmann’s darkened eyes follow her around the room and she touches her lips absentmindedly.
Holtzmann changes into a coffee colored, tailored jacket Erin didn’t know she owned and hung up her buckskin. The pants that go with it are tighter than what she normally wears. Erin follows her hands when she buckles her gun belt back on, holsters riding low on her hips. She even puts a comb to her wild hair. There will be no man more handsome than Holtzmann at that dance tonight, and no girl prettier. As she tugs the pinstriped collar in place and puts her gold watch in its pocket, Erin’s heart races and she doesn’t have to ask herself if there’s blushing going on.
***
She almost doesn’t recognise Patty in a dress, striking in red and a head taller than a lot of men in the room. She tells her and Abby they look wonderful and that’s all she had time for before being asked to dance for the first time.
Holtzmann doesn't dance. Erin gets why. The local men probably feel strange about asking a woman to dance that wears a suit better than they do. None of Holtzmann's pretty barmaids are there. Selfishly, Erin is immensely relieved that Holtzmann isn't back in their good graces.
Holtzmann's eyes follow her around the dance floor. Erin looks at her more than she looks at her dance partner. She wants her to ask her to dance. She knows it probably won't happen: dancing with another woman might be too much, even for the tolerant people of Ghost Town. But she challenges her with her eyes, she can't help herself.
Erin drinks, laughs and dances around the barn floor, over and over again. She hasn’t danced in ages; she’s missed it. Every few minutes, she looks for Holtzmann in the crowd, so she won’t lose sight of her. She sees her from across the room, talking to a man who she plays poker with sometimes, even though Erin’s noticed how Holtzmann seems to be gambling less and less lately. She winks at her and gives her a two-fingered salute. Erin had never thought the phrase ”weak in the knees” can mean something literal. It can.
Dance with me. She dares her with her eyes. She doesn’t. But Erin can feel her eyes on her even when she moves across the floor with her back to her.
It’s almost midnight and Erin doesn’t know how it happened. Her sore feet do though and they’re telling her it’s time to go before she turns into a pumpkin.
Erin walks over and touches Holtzmann's hand.
"Walk me home?"
A parent of one of her students comes up and asks her to dance. She has a vague feeling that the handsome widower is trying to court her, he's talked to her in the street a few times. Quitting her job to get married isn't in the cards for Erin, now or ever, so she barely notices him. She feels she ought to be polite and dance with him anyway, a good relationship with the parents are important.
He's a good dancer. He knows the steps and doesn't hold her too-close-to-be-polite, like some of the men tries to do.
She looks for Holtzmann when they're done, but she's gone. She politely declines a second dance and mumbles an excuse about needing some air. Despondently, she thinks Holtzmann has already left, when she sees a shadow outside the door. A lonely figure leaned against the wall. Erin goes to her.
”I thought you'd left?”
Holtzmann shrugged.
”I felt...restless.”
She turned and looked at Erin with a strange expression on her face.
”You looked like you had fun. John Roberts is certainly an… eligible bachelor.”
Erin didn't want to talk about John Roberts. Or any of the men in town for that matter.
”I did. I hadn’t danced in ages, I love dancing. You don’t?”
”I do, actually. But there’s no way I’m dancing with any of those men."
The sound of the fiddle sifted softly out through the barn door. Erin wasn't sure what made her ask, but she had the feeling it had something to do with how blue Holtzmann's eyes was in the moonlight, and the strange longing in them.
"Dance with me?"
Holtzmann bows in an exaggerated fashion and Erin takes her hand. Holtzmann leads, of course, even though she’s shorter. Erin smiles and rolls her eyes. Holtzmann can’t help herself. At first, it’s fun. Easy going. She twirls her around and Erin follows. Holtzmann is a good dancer, great even. But she doesn’t want it to be easy going. She doesn't want anything between them to be a joke anymore. She stops following and steps into Holtzmann’s personal space. Her hand goes from shoulder to neck and buries itself in the soft strands of her hairline. Holtzmann puts her arms around her and pulls her close: much closer than Erin let any of the men come tonight. Erin can't even pretend to herself that they’re dancing anymore. She looks into her eyes and...
”THE ROWAN GANG IS BURNING DOWN THE BARN!”
A loud voice cries out to someone in the street. They jump apart and break into a run.
The fire has started on the other side, around the corner from the main doors. Patty's at the frontline, shouting commands as townspeople carry buckets of water. Holtzmann has built a contraption for the water reservoir, but it malfunctions. Erin's heart is in her throat as she sees her scale the reservoir wall to see if she can fix it. She just shakes her head. It's been sabotaged. Abby and Holtzmann looks at each other and Erin sees on their faces that the barn is lost and it's just a question of saving the rest of Ghost Town now.
Patty shouts and points and they see a group of riders in the distance. They fire shots into the air, seemingly taunting them. Holtzmann and Patty throw themselves on their horses and follow, but it's too late: the riders had too much of a disadvantage. They come back dusty and frustrated half an hour later. Erin doesn't say it out loud, but she's glad they didn't catch up. She really doesn't want her friends to be overpowered in a shoot-out with desperados trying to burn their town down for reasons they didn't know.
"This night sure has been a bag of nails," Holtzmann ground out between clenched teeth.
***
Haunting
The following night, the sound of a child crying is heard through Ghost Town and a white apparition is seen by several people. Abby calls them in for an emergency meeting. Erin had already spent the day explaining to her students that there's no such thing as an actual ghost.
A man comes into the saloon and asks for Abby.
”I’m Ed Mulgrave Jr. This is my farm hand, Garrett. Tell them what you saw, Garrett.”
"It was out near the Aldridge estate. I...."
”A ghost. He saw a ghost. I believe it made him soil himself.”
”Jesus… I did not!”
”He did. He came riding back saying his pants were molasses.”
Abby promises to look into it. Another man comes in and whispers in Abby’s ear. Then Mrs Potter from the school board, and her daughter.
Erin asks the stagecoach driver who came in late last night to see if he'd seen something.
"Nah, Mercado ranch is further out than I wanna go."
"But you must have seen something coming into town? There were sightings all over yesterday? Maybe one of your passengers did?"
"I don't drive psychos. And I ain't afraid of no ghosts!"
He walked away in a huff.
"Actually, that's a double negative, that means that you are afraid of ghosts…" Erin called after him. The school teacher in her couldn't resist.
They gathered round the table and compared the stories of hauntings around Ghost Town.
"What are we saying? That ghosts are real?"
"Of course not. But that doesn't mean it isn't a problem. All it takes is for people to believe that ghosts are real."
Abby turned to Erin.
"Ghost Town was abandoned for a few decades. Rumour had it, it was haunted. Specifically the old mine and the old Mercado Ranch close by. Probably just sound effects caused by the abandoned mine shafts, but it still made people stay away. "
Patty shook her head.
"That place has such a weird reputation that people just believed whatever they heard."
On a hunch, Erin asks Abby for a map of Ghost Town. She marks the different sounds and sightings. Holtzmann looks at her, wide eyed. She pulls out maps of the old mine, the first one, from when Ghost Town was just a glint in some prospector's eye. She slams her hand down on the spidery diagram of abandoned shafts.
”Believe this.”
They stare at each other as it aligns: the sightings and the old mine shafts.
Abby goes to see the mayor, to tell him of their theory of staged hauntings. Or, technically, she sees the mayor but its Jennifer, his tall dark and handsome wife she's talking to. Everyone knows that she's the one who decides what does and does not get done.
She comes back with the same message as always when the mayor of Ghost Town is concerned: he's more interested in keeping up appearances than solving an actual problem.
”If the mayor is instrumental in sending people out there, he has to admit that there's trouble in Ghost Town. Once again, we're on our own, ladies."
"I'll saddle up the horses."
Holtzmann took something out of her saddle bag and handed to Erin.
"Don't forget this."
"It's ready?"
"Yup."
Holtzmann hands her a holster; the leather is new enough to creak and object when Erin puts it on. It feels heavy around her hips. Commanding. She looks like a woman you don't want to cross, not a small-town school teacher, in her Colt Longline Holtzmann Special.
When they exit the saloon, Holtzmann hands her the reigns of a horse she's never seen before. She assumes it's borrowed by someone who lost money to Holtzmann in poker, that's how a lot of stuff enters her roommate’s life. It's the first time she'll ride without supervision, with Holtzmann focussed on something else. The white hairs on its muzzle talks reassuringly of an age where most horses have lost interest in bucking their riders out of the saddle. It stands patiently still as she mounts. She realises she can, for all intents and purposes, ride a horse now.
***
Mine
It’s quiet when they arrive. An abandoned carriage is parked near the decrepit entrance. There's a strange contraption next to it, looking for all the world like something Holtzmann might have built. There are additional contraptions further along the abandoned mine.
"I guess this explains the shootout and the barn fire. Sure, Rowan enjoys scaring people for the sake of it, but there was probably quite a lot of noise setting this up."
Patty pulls her rhinestoned Longline Special out of its holster, but Holtzmann stops her.
”That’s basically a huge bomb. There’s a good chance the whole mine might blow up if we’re not careful.”
Holtzmann actually looks worried as she says it: a rare occurrence.
”I vote we don’t shoot at that, then.” Patty sounded reasonably exasperated.
"But why would anyone place a bomb near an old mineshaft? The chance of there being remnants of gas and other flammables is high."
"I think that might be the point."
Erin sees from Holtzmann's face that's she's found the missing piece of the Rowan puzzle.
"Hauntings and an explosion? Sounds like a pretty effective way to keep people far away from this place."
"But the old shafts go all the way to Ghost Town and under City Hall and…"
Abby's voice trailed off. The realisation that Rowan literally wanted to blow Ghost Town up gave all of them pause.
They decided to try and sneak up on Rowan and who else might be inside the mine through another entrance. Using the main one would almost certainly lead to an unevenly matched gunfight, that they all agreed should be avoided.
But then Kevin rode in...
Before they could stop him, he yelled that he was there to save them and had decided to "join the gang". He was carrying on old civil war musket, upside down.
Abby, Patty and Holtzmann started gesticulating to make him shut up, but it was too late as the outlaws of the Rowan gang came up and out, into the sunlight.
Erin could taste the familiar unpleasant metallic smoke on her tongue, as the fire from a multitude of weapons made her eyes water. But she didn't freeze, like last time she was in a gunfight.
She fired her Holtzmann Special for the first time. She knows that if they had more time, Holtzmann would have walked her through it. Erin was a mail-order cowboy, if there ever was one: a person with a look and equipment they weren’t fit to handle. But she trusted Holtzmann. Trusted her to give her the weapon to get her through this.
The recoil was fearsome against her palm. But it felt good. The aim of the gun was awe inspiring. She was hit by sudden inspiration and aimed for a worm-eaten wooden beam near the entrance. Jaw hanging, she watched Gertrude and Pilgrim Pete fell backward in an arch, down into a hollow beneath as the ground collapsed beneath them.
”What the hell…?”
Erin stared at her new gun with a mixture of fear and awe.
Abby pulled a small, round object out and threw it up into the air. A big explosion sent several of the outlaws flying in the direction of the mine. Holtzmann had obviously showed her the blueprint for a more effective hand grenade.
Kevin tries to run, stumbles over a rock, falls over and is still. Abby quickly bends down to check on him and gives a thumbs up. He's out, but still alive. Erin and Abby manage to drag him off to the side with some effort, while Patty covers them.
Erin hears Holtzmann releasing the safety of her gun and Erin looked at her. Holtzmann winks at her and licks the barrel of her gun. Anything but this should have been on her mind in the middle of a gun fight. Anything but how Holtzmann commanded the situation, how confident she looked handling her weapons, getting down on one knee to fire two guns at the same time in a hail of bullets that didn't even come close to hitting her. Anything but how much she wanted her and how her heart races when she watched her.
Tall, lanky Shadows Jones goes down, clutching his knee from one of Holtzmann's bullets. She never shoots to kill; she told Erin that she was proud of the fact that she had never had to kill a man, even when she was young and out prospecting in lawless territory during the rush.
Erin called to her to be careful and Holtzmann winked at her.
"Don't worry, babe. I have a...pocket advantage."
Erin was about to ask what that meant, when a small, red haired man appeared almost in their midst. There's another entrance to the mine, overgrown to the point of invisibility.
She couldn't believe that this was the feared Rowan. This pale little man seemed harmless, even if there was no mistaking the sullen anger on his face. He smiled the smile of a lunatic and took a device out of his pocket. Erin had suspicions about what it might be.
Holtzmann obviously already knew.
"Almost forgot my new toys."
She moved, and two fine calibre shots were fired from within the pockets of her jacket. The look of surprise on Rowan's face as he fell backwards would have been comical, under other circumstances. He fails and tries to find purchase on any of the surfaces around him. He finds it.
Erin sees him grabbing Abby's jacket and watches her lose her balance and go over. It’s a split-second decision to tie a piece of rope around her waist and follow down the dark shaft.
And she's falling. It feels like minutes, even though it’s barely a second. She cries out when the rope runs out and the noose yanks hard at her, making pain shoot through her midsection. But she’s OK. There doesn’t seem to be anything broken.
Then she sees Abby, precariously balanced on a narrow ledge, Rowan hanging onto her leg, trying to pull her down into the mine with him.
She hears steps above.
”Abby? Erin?”
Holtzmann’s voice is thin with worry.
Erin calls back and Holtzmann and Patty let out whoops of joy. The thought occurs to her that she might bring the whole mine down around her, but she still doesn't hesitate before pulling the trigger. She's more prepared for the recoil this time and doesn't lose her balance. Rowan howls in pain and anger and descends into darkness. He'll likely survive the fall. If not, Erin's still not sorry she saved her friend.
She reaches out for Abby, who gratefully grabs her arm. Heart in her throat, she loosens the rope, not daring to look down into the seemingly bottomless pit below. She tries not to think about how Abby’s standing on that ledge that can break at any moment.
”Patty? You think you can pull us back up?”
”What now?”
”I’m going to need you and Holtzmann to pull us back up!”
She hears Patty say some select swearwords to Holtzmann. Erin turned to Patty with this, since ”you and Holtzmann” means 80% Patty and 20% Holtzmann. Holtzmann is brilliant, brave and can hit anything with a gun. But the woman she loves is small enough for Patty to pick up and carry around like a ragdoll, Erin’s seen her do just that. There it was. She’s said it to herself: she loves Holtzmann.
She can just about make out Abby's face.
”I can’t believe you came down here for me.”
”I know we haven’t known each other for long. But I feel like you’re my best friend already. I’m not going to leave you.”
Patty is barking commands at them. Stand close together, hold on tight, don’t move once we start pulling, keep away from the walls.
Erin’s afraid; of course she is. But she has faith in Patty’s determination and Holtzmann’s ingenuity if that fails. The first yank makes her and Abby wince. She hears Patty call Rowan and his people a lot of colorful things while she pulls. The light becomes brighter and brighter and with once final, mighty pull, they’re over the edge.
Both Patty and Holtzmann are shiny with sweat. Patty is folded over, trying to catch her breath.
Holtzmann throws herself in Erin’s arms and Erin presses her cheek against Holtzmann’s sweaty one and swears to herself that she’ll come clean and tell her how she feels, one of these days.
They all hug and celebrate, incredulous that they actually did it: they saved Ghost Town.
***
Abby goes back into town to notify the police. Erin, Holtzmann, Patty and a dazed Kevin stay to monitor the outlaws, in case some of them manages to figure out how to get themselves back up without access to any equipment, rope or Patty.
She returns a few hours later with a dapper, grey haired man and his deputies.
”I’m chief deputy US Marshal Paul Feig. I’m here for the prisoners.”
Holtzmann gave him a lazy, two fingered salute.
”They’re in very safe keeping at the bottom of the mining shaft”, Abby added briskly.
”Mining shaft? How disappointing, I’ve just had this uniform steamed and pressed.”
He tipped his pristine hat.
”Great work, ladies.”
Abby smiled.
”You too, Marshall.”
***
Erin looks at the gun before she puts it back in her belt. Admires it. As frightening as it is, it’s also beautiful. Holtzmann is an artist as well as an inventor. She has to make an effort not to touch it all the time, the smooth metal feels good under her fingers. She gets why people like them: they make you feel powerful. But the thought of hurting or killing another person is too scary. She doesn’t know why she turned it upside down, she probably just wanted to see what it looked like. The tiny letters on the frame were barely visible, unless you held it just like this: upside down, in the light. E.G J.H. She stares at it, before she puts the gun back in the holster, gently like a woman would caress her lover’s cheek.
As they watched the Rowan gang being towed off by the marshals, Erin subconsciously touched the exposed skin of her chest. The sun was scorching and she hadn’t had time to put anything more than a shirt on. Wordlessly, Holtzmann untied the scarf around her neck and put it around Erin’s. She took her time and Erin relished her touch.
”What about you?”
Holtzmann shrugged.
”I’m used to it. Just button my shirt and let my hair down, I’ll be fine.”
Holtzmann was the palest person Erin knew. The gesture tugged at her heart strings, like so many things Holtzmann did these days. Erin wanted to tell her No, don’t. That exposed strip of skin, when you leave those buttons open, it drives me crazy. I can’t stop staring at it. Don’t deprive me… But she didn’t, of course.
She cupped her neck and ran her thumb along the fine muscles.
”I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Holtzmann looked her in the eyes and they stood quietly like that, lost in each other, until Patty cleared her throat loudly.
”They’ve gone, so we can go back to town now… If y’all are...you know. Done.
Erin buttoned Holtzmann’s shirt and pulled the collar as far up as it would go.
***
I know you
When they get back, they're tired and hungry and hot. After a hardy meal cooked by a reluctant Benny, Abby proclaims today bath day and water shortages be damned. She says there's no way she's getting into her nice, clean sheets with spider web and mining dust all over her.
Erin doesn't even pretend to feel reserved anymore as she sinks into the bath with Holtzmann.
"Really, Holtz?"
Erin looks at the glass of whiskey in Holtzmann's hand and the grubby hat still on her head.
"OK, fine."
With a sigh, she throws the hat on the floor.
They lie immersed in the warm water in companionable silence for a while. Erin looks at Holtzmann. Again. She can’t stop herself. She’s so beautiful like this, relaxed, with her hair down. And naked… Erin caresses her skin with her eyes.
"Holtz?"
"Yup?"
”How did you know I wasn’t going to go crazy and accidentally shoot all of us with that awesome gun you made?”
”I think I know you by now. You don't take chances.”
”You do, do you?
Erin has seen the little letters on the frame of her gun, seen her own name with Holtzmann's. She sits up. Holtzmann’s gaze lingers for just a second before she remembers herself and looks away. But Erin doesn’t want her to. Not anymore. She takes Holtzmann's glass out of her hand and knocks the whiskey back. She’s had more practise with holding her liquor by now. She bends over and sees Holtzmann’s eyes widen in panic just before Erin brushes her lips against hers and rises out of the tub, leaving her roommate staring in shock, jaw hanging.
She gets into their bed, naked. Her heart is racing as she lifts the sheet in invitation. Holtzmann's skin is still hot from the bath as she slides in next to Erin.
"Touch me like I’m one of your barmaids..."
Holtzmann shakes her head, sharply.
"No. You and I...It's different."
"It is...?"
"Isn't it?"
Erin takes a deep breath.
"Yeah… It is."
Holtzmann kisses her. Like she’s only been kissed by men before. She briefly thinks there might be something wrong, that she’s having a heart attack, maybe. But it’s only Holtzmann’s lips and tongue against her own that’s making her heart race and her hands tremble like they haven’t before.
"I'm not… I haven't really…"
Holtzmann put her forehead against Erin’s.
”Don’t worry. It’s going to be different this time.”
She'd been trying to convey some nervous caveat emptor, that she might be a bad lover because of her inexperience: her love life so far had been repetitive and uninspired. But she gladly took the reassurance.
Holtzmann kicks the sheets off. She looks at Erin like she did when she first walked into The Olde Fire Station: head to toe.
”It’s been torture to share a bed with you and not get to touch you. But the best kind of torture."
Holtzmann whispers it against her neck, between kisses. Erin makes a soft sound she doesn’t recognise as Holtzmann cups her breast. She’s never seen herself like this, never seen her body react. Her husband would turn the lights off and cover them with the duvet. More often than not, it was a hurried affair. She’s never seen a lover like this before either: absorbed in her, fascinated by every inch.
Holtzmann is beautiful naked, Erin knew that already. But it’s different now: Holtzmann is naked for her. She’s been given access to all this loveliness. Holtzmann has a callous on her favoured gun hand, just where the grips of her revolver would rest. Erin traces it with her tongue and kisses it. Holtzmann draws a sharp breath and moans softly. Erin has never excited a lover before. She follows the shape of her shoulder, her waist, her hips. She’s mesmerised by how soft she is and how greedy her hands are. She can’t believe that she’s managed to keep them off her for this long.
Holtzmann uses just her fingertips and brushes the slick, swollen length of her sex. Erin flinches at the sensation, starved of touch for so long. Holtzmann pulls her hand away, like she misconstrued the motion and thinks Erin isn't ready. She catches her wrist and presses her hand back against her wetness and looks into her eyes to show how much she wants her. Holtzmann's motions are light and controlled when she continues, but Erin trembles and burns for her, even with this lightness of touch.
"Holtz…" Her voice is imploring, even though she's not quite sure what she's asking for, just… more.
She’d read about the so-called perversions of women loving women in a book. It had been vague on the details, for obvious reasons. And her husband hadn’t been an adventurous man in the bedroom. So, when Holtzmann kissed her way down her body, she wasn’t completely certain of what was going to happen. The secret, forbidden pleasure.
When Holtzmann kissed her there, she knew why the book called it forbidden. This had to be a perversion, surely; a sin if there ever was one, because nothing should be allowed to feel this good. Nothing this wonderful should be allowed for a decent woman.
Holtzmann’s lips are soft at first, then demanding and Erin arches off the bed to get closer to the slick heat of Holtzmann's mouth and comes apart under her tongue. She’s so patient when Erin teeters on the brink of coming for minutes, unused to these new sensations.
She hadn’t known it could be like this, that she could be enslaved by someone’s touch. She’d done almost anything to get Holtzmann to keep touching her. When she comes, it's an alien, new sensation, different from the times she's touched herself under the covers when her husband was away: a hurried affair more often than not followed by guilt that she couldn't be satisfied with what she had, like a good woman should. She's holding Holtzmann's hand as she feels the waves going through her, squeezing it so hard it must hurt.
She comes down from her high in Holtzmann’s loving arms. She hears her heart race when she rests her head on her chest. Holtzmann gasps when she brushes a hard nipple.
”Holtzmann?”
”Yes, baby?”
Holtzmann calling her baby? She’d had no idea how much she wanted that to happen until it did.
”Show me?”
Holtzmann looks at her with swollen lips and bedroom eyes and messy hair and Erin’s couldn’t believe she looked like this for her, that this was her lover now.
Holtzmann takes her hand and placed it against her slick heat. Erin obviously isn’t the only one aroused by what they're doing. Erin feels like a virgin again, touching a woman. There’s another first too: she’s never been with someone she loves. Holtzmann’s soft groan tells her all she needs to know as she tries to mimic what she had done to her before, with her curious hands. Holtzmann’s skills as a lover were enough to make beautiful women queue up to get in her bed. And here she was, coming apart under Erin's fingers. Hearing Holtzmann's soft sounds in her ear as she touches her is the most powerful aphrodisiac of all.
”Tell me what you need?”
"You’re doing just fine..."
Holtzmann's voice is husky with desire and she has to clear her throat before talking. Erin can't stop looking at her, see how her eyes fly shut as she moves her fingers along her soft folds and feel her getting slick and slippery, almost friction free. And, there it is: Erin hears a gasp and sees on Holtzmann's face that she's found the spot and the right touch. Holtzmann kisses her deeply as she comes, breathing her moans into Erin's mouth.
She pushes on Erin's shoulders and flips their position. She lies down in the cradle of her thighs.
"We are not done…" she whispers between kisses and Erin moans as Holtzmann's hot, slick sex slides against her own, mixing their desire. Hours pass, and only the moon sees them move with each other, kissing, touching, grinding; covering hands and lips and sheets in arousal.
***
The next morning, Erin is sore and raw in new places and Holtzmann has a kiss mark on the underside of her breast and a scratch mark on her shoulder Erin knew she must have made. Holtzmann curses at how her arm aches after Erin slept on it during the few hours of actual sleep they got. Erin’s elbow complains: it’s not used to carrying her weight for so long, like when you’re trying to keep weight off your lover, when she’s underneath you, legs crossed in the small of your back and head thrown back in passion. Those tendons haven’t done that before.
She rolls over and spoons Holtzmann. Her hand wanders down her arm, to her breast and the pristine skin of her stomach to the curls at the apex of her thigh. Holtzmann stirs and tries to turn over.
”Stay. It’s your turn, baby.”
Her fingers move lazily down. She smiles as Holtzmann lets out a soft moan. Erin loves that her new lover has sex without a hint of shame or self-consciousness. It makes her shameless herself. She moves her hand in little tight circles, matching the gentle thrusts of Holtzmann’s hips against her fingers. She had intended this to be something quick and uncomplicated, a nice way to start her lover's day. But she feels greedy now, a fire in the pit of her stomach. She needs more. She gently pushes Holtzmann over on her back and takes a tight, rosy nipple in her mouth.
She kisses her way down her body and sees the evidence of how worked up her lover is. She carefully pushes her tongue against her entrance and slides into her. Holtzmann coats her tongue in warm arousal. She licks her way up to her clit and closed her lips around the swelling, lips sticky from her lover’s pleasure. She listens carefully to Holtzmann’s breath getting laboured and uneven. Erin is getting better at reading her, at being a good lover. Holtzmann didn’t kiss and tell, but she had heard enough to assume that some of her previous lovers had been pillow queens compared to her.
She changes her rhythm and pride swells in her as she makes her come like this for the first time. She kissed Holtzmann with lips sticky with her arousal.
She almost fell asleep again in Holtzmann's arms, but made herself get up, despite an adorably disappointed pout, so she wouldn't be late for work.
"Come on, Holtz… I have to… Oh god, stop that... set an example for the children. Nonono…."
Finally, Holtzmann relents and stops kissing her.
Erin tried not to look like a woman almost running down Main Street not to be late for work after just falling out of her lover's bed when she was almost running down Main Street not to be late for work after just falling out of her lover's bed.
She was met by Mrs Potter from the school board, who said that since ten of the children had unfortunately come down with the flu, maybe they should cancel today's classes, so the flu wouldn't spread?
Erin tried to look sorry when she agreed with Mrs Potter, but she was already back in bed with Holtzmann in her head.
***
Serious
She’s washing the scent of sex off herself a few hours later when there's here's a knock on the door. Holtzmann opens before Erin can tell her to put on more than an undershirt.
Abby stares incredulously at her.
”Cream and sugar Holtz… You promised not to have female guests as long as Erin lives here. What if she comes home early, she’ll be furious!”
Erin took a deep breath to psych herself up before stepping out from behind the door, wrapped only in a sheet. She doesn't want Abby to think badly of Holtzmann.
”School got cancelled. Flu epidemic among the children, best to send them home so they don’t all get it.”
”Ah."
Abby realised what Erin was wearing, or not wearing, in this case.
"OH… I’d better leave you to...it...then.”
As she tiptoed off, Erin turned to Holtzmann.
"That's not how this was supposed to go. I think I should go talk to her."
She found her in the kitchen. To Erin's immense relief, she didn't seem to be offended. There's an amused smile on her face when she looks at her.
"So… You and Holtzmann, huh?"
”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to walk in on that.”
”Oh, it’s fine. But for the love of God, don’t open the door in your skivvies in case other guests walk by.”
"Duly noted. I’ll try to convince Holtzmann."
Abby’s face changes.
”Is it… Serious? Or are you going to break her heart? Holtzmann might seem like she’s tough, but she’s actually quite sensitive and she’s my friend and I...”
”I love her, Abby.”
She hears a sharp breath behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees Holtzmann. She’s heard everything. She comes over and takes Erin’s hand. She holds it so hard it almost hurts.
***
When they get back up, Holtzmann turns around and looks at her with a serious, sad face.
”I can’t believe you told Abby before you told me.”
Erin is crestfallen. Holtzmann is right, she should have had that discussion with her first, she's so bad at this...
But then Holtzmann winks at her and breaks into a grin. She gets up on tiptoe to kiss her.
”I hate you.” Erin mumbles between kisses.
”No, you don’t. You luurve me...”, Holtzmann singsongs as she beams at Erin.
”It’s true. I do…”
Holtzmann’s face changes. She’s serious when she whispers it:
”I’m so in love with you…”
She pulls Erin into her arms, no questions left unanswered between them.
***
Some days, Holtzmann would sit in the window and wait for her to come back from work. Some days she would precariously lean over the windowsill and look at Erin walk down the street, with that grin on her face, that was just for Erin and she would get hot and worked up from Holtzmann's eyes on her, knowing exactly what she was saying. Hurry home. I've been thinking about you all day. I can't wait to close the curtains, so nobody can see me kiss you.
Some days, Erin didn’t know who this woman was, who pushed her lover impatiently up against the door and let a hand wander under her shirt to cup a breast, or dip below the hem of her pants and shape her hand around her backside, or down to brush the curls below the softest skin, making her lover draw a sharp breath of anticipation. She didn’t know this woman, this new Erin. But she liked her.
***
Holtzmann goes away again. She says she won’t be gone long, but she can’t say for sure when she’ll be back. Erin tries not to sulk, but she fails, until Holtzmann takes her in her arms and says there’s no woman waiting for her down the road, there’s only Erin, will only ever be Erin. She knew it already, but she loves hearing it. Holtzmann says she’ll miss her every minute she’s gone and will come home as soon as she can. Erin makes her promise and she does. But secretly, she doesn’t understand how Holtzmann can leave her now, when they’ve just found each other. ”Take care of some business”. How can whatever it is be more important than being with her? Doing what they do with each other every night?
***
Not bath day
Walking home from school five days later, Erin sees a dot on the horizon. There’s something familiar with it, even though its tiny. As it grew, Erin broke into a run. She didn't care what it looked like. It probably looked exactly like a woman welcoming her lover back after an absence. That’s what it was, after all. She threw herself in Holtzmann's arms just as she hit the ground getting off her horse.
Erin buried her nose in her neck.
”You smell. You need a bath.”
”Probably right, I’ve slept rough for the last four nights. Still love me?”
Erin pushed her nose against the sweat and dust on Holtzmann’s neck and inhaled.
”I do. I still love you. I’m so glad you’re back.”
Back in their room, Holtzmann looks herself in the mirror and laughs at the wide smear of soot on her cheek and the strands of hay caught in her hair.
"You're right. I do need a bath. I should have come back on bath day."
”I guess someone will have to wash you, then.”
She takes Holtzmann’s grubby hat and pointedly puts in on the stool and not the bed. She pulls the pins out of her hair until it cascades down her shoulders. Then the yellow bandana around her neck. Button for button the shirt and then the buckle of her belt. Erin paused and looked at her. She shouldn’t have looked this hot in an undershirt and underpants. But god help her, she did.
”Up.”
Holtzmann obediently lifted her arms and let Erin slide the undershirt off. Holtzmann looks at her with bedroom eyes. She wasn’t the only one enjoying this process.
She gets down on her knees and slides her underpants down, slowly. Sure, she's dirty and needs to wash. But that doesn’t mean Erin can’t enjoy getting there.
She soaks a soft linen rag in the cool water in the wash basin in their room. She starts with Holtzmann’s face. Her lover sighs in contentment as the cool material touches her hot skin. Erin follows with her lips, kissing the clean surface softly.
Shoulders...arms...and her lover draws a sharp breath as the rag circles her breasts and slides over her nipples. Erin waits until they’re firm little pearls before taking one in her mouth and sucking it softly. Holtzmann lets out a pained noise and arches into Erin. Apparently, she hasn’t been the only one frustrated and needing these past days.
After her chest and stomach, she cruelly passes her sex and slides the linen over her firm backside and deliciously feminine hips. She washes her feet and slows down as she moves up her calves and inner thighs.
”Baby… You’re killing me here.”
Erin smiles adoringly at her lover, before letting the fabric brush her sex. Holtzmann gasps and throws her head back as she does it again, pressing the material against her sensitive skin. Erin gets up from her crouching position and pushes Holtzmann back against the dresser.
”I’ve…”
She replaces the cloth with her fingers.
”...missed”
She moves them in tight little circles, feeling Holtzmann’s arousal coat them.
”...you”
”Me too, baby”, Holtzmann manages before shattering under her touch.
Her lover is far from sated. She pushes her toward the bed and complains that Erin is wearing too much.
Erin felt like a drunk finally getting that shot of whisky they’d waited for all day when Holtzmann’s cool skin touched hers.
Holtzmann groans when she feels how wet Erin is from just touching her and making her come.
”I want to be inside you…”
Erin whispers a yes, even though it hasn’t satisfied her before. But she trusts Holtzmann, trusts that it will be different with her; it always has been.
It is. When her nimble fingers push into her, Erin feels her nerve endings catch fire. Holtzmann kisses her tenderly while sliding deeper, slowly and retreating over and over again, with soft, subtle changes. Erin surprises herself by coming like that, with Holtzmann inside of her.
About ten minutes later, there's a knock on the door.
"Erin? Are you home?"
”I’m going to need twenty minutes, Abby."
Holtzmann took one of her breasts in her mouth. It was a superhuman effort to keep her voice steady as she called out again.
”Actually, let’s make that 40.”
Her voice cracked when Holtzmann swirls her tongue in the way she knows makes Erin crazy. She grabbed Holtzmann by the hair and forced her back up.
”Damn you…”
Holtzmann grinned.
”I love you too.”
”You better…”
She kissed her, deeply and greedily. Maybe 50 minutes…
Afterward, in Holtzmann's arms, Erin sighs.
”I love Abby, I really, really do. But sometimes I wish we lived somewhere on our own. These walls are so thin…”
Erin had discovered that she was quite a vocal lover. It took a lot of effort to hold back.
Holtzmann kisses her neck and braids her fingers with Erin.
”Agreed. I’d love it if you wouldn’t have to keep quiet. It would be so hot.”
It doesn't strike her until later what a significant conversation they've just had. How she mentioned living together like that was a given for them and Holtzmann responded like she'd thought about it too.
***
Husky men in hats
That night, during poker, Erin sits so close to Holtzmann that she would be able to see her cards if she were playing. She isn't. She can’t focus on anything but the woman by her side, under her hands, as she touches Holtzmann’s knee under the table and travels up the inside of her thigh. Erin shifts closer to Holtzmann until they’re hip to hip. To an onlooker, it might just seem like Holtzmann is staring out into thin air, smiling at nothing.
Erin knew they had to leave the room and their bed occasionally, if only to entertain their relationship with their friends. But she was mesmerised by her power over her lover; how it only took a touch for Holtzmann to lose focus on what she was doing and get that look in her eyes that mean her sole focus was getting Erin naked.
She's distracted briefly when a husky man in a top hat walked through the door. Abby came out of the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks. A smile spread on the man’s face as he tipped his hat, before taking it off.
”Ma’am. My name’s Thomas Macy. I believe you have a room for me?”
”I think our girl might have more than just a room for him, yahknowwhatImsaying?”
Patty’s theatre whisper is so loud Erin and Holtzmann has no problem hearing it on the other side of the table.
Holtzmann tried not to laugh. But not very hard. Erin tried a little harder. It still didn’t work.
Holtzmann opted out of the last round even though she was winning. They slammed the hotel room door shut with their body weight as they barely made it inside the room before falling into each other’s arms again.
***
Silver
The next morning, Erin goes out to find Holtzmann in the shed behind the Olde Fire Station, where she and Abby spend hours tinkering and experimenting. She's just about to wrap her arms around her lover and say something not suitable for stranger's ears when a tall, imposing woman pops her head out from behind a large apparatus.
"Ah, what a dingeling, I forgot to introduce you to my mentor, Dr. Rebecca Gorin."
The famous Rebecca, Holtzmann's mental mother if not her biological one. She feels like a teenager being introduced to, and scrutinised by, a suitor's parents for the first time.
Dr. Gorin looks at Erin like she's a lab specimen of limited interest. Erin hasn't been afraid of another grown-up in years, but it appears she still can be. She tells Dr. Gorin it's nice to meet her and the doctor looks back with an expression on her face that says that that remains to be seen.
Her lover looks happy next to her mentor and their interactions are easy going and familiar. Holtzmann has obviously missed her. She tells her about the Rowan gang, the fake haunted mine and how she, Erin, Abby and Patty stopped him. Holtzmann takes Erin's hand, and she freezes.
"...and we're dating."
Erin had no idea that telling people about them was an option. She'd assumed it must be kept secret out of necessity. She almost denied the whole thing. She squeezes Holtzmann's hand with a racing heart. Her mouth feels dry as cotton.
Gorin makes a non-committal noise, like female companionship is nothing out of the ordinary. She's obviously familiar with that side of her protege’s personality. She doesn't seem to care.
"Silver."
Gorin says it in a neutral voice and turns to Holtzmann.
Holtzmann looks like she wants to slap herself.
"Oh, of course! I'm an idiot."
"You must have been… distracted, Jillian."
Goring glances at Erin with a sceptically raised eyebrow. Holtzmann takes being berated in good humour. The love between them is obvious.
As they leave the shed, Gorin looks at Erin.
"Take care of her." That's what Gorin says. What she means and what Erin hears is Break my daughters heart and I will find you and hurt you in some ingenious way you can’t even imagine.
***
Holtzmann shows the others Rebecca’s maps and blueprints and the stone core samples she brought. They realise this is the beginning of a new era.
"Ah, man. I can believe we've been so caught up the whole gold rush thing we've missed a huge, big silver ore running right through Ghost Town,"
"No wonder Rowan was trying to scare people away from that mine. I wonder if her knew even way back when he tried to be sheriff?"
"Probably. It's sad seeing the smart ones go bad."
Abby turned to Erin.
"I think we'll need to build a bigger school house."
She nods.
"Yeah… And a bigger hotel."
"True."
Holtzmann turns to Erin.
”I’d like us to go for a ride tomorrow. I have something I want to show you,” she whispers in her ear.
***
Gold
The next day, Holtzmann took her riding, like she said she would. Erin had hoped it might be some sort of romantic outing, but they were going down the road to Holtzmann's makeshift shooting range. Was Holtzmann really taking her shooting on this beautiful day, that they could have spent in each other's arms in the shade of some tree somewhere?
They were coming up to old man Abrahams little homestead.
"Aren't we a little close for comfort?"
Old man Abrahams was a cranky, surly old man who would throw stones and insults after the local children if they got to close. Erin's pupils called him The Troll behind his back. He loathed people, especially women.
She'd always loved his little house, though. Painted green, it didn't look anything like the other houses around Ghost Town. He'd taken good care of his property and the garden and the fields around it was immaculate. Old man Abrahams had loved plants with the same fervor as he hated people.
"I wish I could afford to build a house like that on a teacher's pay."
Holtzmann just smiled and rode on in silence.
"Holtz! We can’t just ride in to his yard, old Abrahams will have us for breakfast."
Holtzmann got off her horse.
"Old Abrahams passed away last week."
"Oh…"
"Still like this place, now that you see it up close?"
"Of course I do, it's beautiful."
”Good. Because it’s ours. I mean, if you want it to be. I bought it.”
Erin just started at her.
”But baby… That money you got from selling off the gold was for your inventions?”
”I kind of...found a bunch of gold, sooo. But that’s not something you should go around telling half of Ghost Town, so I’ve kind of kept that one close to my chest. And you trump horseless carriages any day.”
She gets off her horse and looks around. She can see now that the paint is fresh, and the barn wall has been fixed. Someone's been doing work out here.
”Patty helped me. And Kevin, kind of. He came along, at any rate. Abby helped by distracting you.”
There was a brown mare in the paddock across the yard. She curiously sniffed Erin’s hand and allowed herself to be stroked.
”She’s yours if you want her. I may or may not have won her at poker. Mr Heiss just shouldn’t gamble, he wouldn’t be able to tell a bluff from horse manure.”
Erin pulled Holtzmann into her arms. She sniffed against her neck as she teared up. She took her hand and pulled her into the little house. She used her lips to express her gratitude. When Erin pulled her shirt out of her pants and unbuttoned it, to show her just how good she thought this idea was, she didn’t even notice that the planks were hard or that she got sawdust in her hair as she kneeled on the floor.
Afterward, in Holtzmann’s arms, her lover looked at her.
”So, is that a yes?”
”I want to grow old here with you. I want us to have matching rocking chairs and sit here and look at the stars together, holding hands.”
”I’d marry you if I could, you know.”
”I know, baby.”
Erin pulled Holtzmann close and they lay on a bear skin rug Holtzmann had brought out there, looking at the stars through the window.
The next morning, Holtzmann braided her a wedding ring from buffalo grass. She wore it until it dried up and fell off and Holtzmann replaced it with a gold one, made from tiny strands, just like grass. All her life, Erin would have the habit of tracing the uneven surface with her fingertips when she was pensive, like when she wondered what the stars above their home looked like up close, waiting for Holtzmann to leave her Mad Inventor Tinkering Shack and join her on the porch. It was a swing in the end, not rocking chairs. Holtzmann likes to sit close to her, with her head on her shoulder, and she can't do that in a rocking chair.
Erin would fiddle with the ring when their train was almost 10 hours late on the last leg of their journey to France, when one of Holtzmann's inventions had been chosen for the Paris world fair. She did it when Abby and her husband Thomas Macy were honored for long and faithful service as mayor and deputy mayor of Ghost Town, by then a thriving, considerably larger mining community and when Abby, Holtzmann and her went to hear Patty deliver a lecture on "The Frontier then and now", based on her book by the same name, at the Society of American History thirty years later.
Sarsaparilla
Thanks for readin’, ladies! No lesbians, animals, dumb receptionists or Paul Feig suits were harmed during the production of this fic.
*Tips hat and moseys on over to the saloon for a nice glass of sarsaparilla*