Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was odd, how quickly Sadie found herself settling into the new way of things. It’d been years since she’d last had a... well, a companion, she figured was the word for it, though that didn’t seem quite enough to describe Mary. Friend, however, seemed just as strange, almost… intimate. In the end, to Sadie, she was just Mary, no bells and whistles attached—the rest, they could figure out later.

A week or so after leaving Valentine, they went to the stable up near Strawberry where Mary picked herself out a Tennessee Walker, a liver chestnut mare with a starburst on her nose. Compared to Hera, she was a small, placid thing, but sturdy and strong for her size. She’d be able to keep up with the other horse for the most part, which was what really mattered in the end. 

Mary loved her at first sight, and that mattered, too. It’d been an age since she last had her own horse, she said. She named the horse Francine, in memory of her mother, and set to spoiling her right from the get-go, brushing her deep brown coat ‘til she was gleaming like a seal in water and feeding her sugar cubes from her hand at every opportunity. 

Sadie hadn’t had the heart to tell Mary how they’d gotten the money for Francine—not that she’d killed anyone or nothing, though smuggling guns over the state line for a local gang weren’t much better, knowing what thievery and killing they’d be using ‘em for. Not only that, smuggling could get you strung up just as quick by the law as murder if you were unlucky enough to get caught red-handed. 

But Sadie hadn’t been caught, and the money had paid not only for Mary’s new horse but also a new saddle, brush, and supplies, so she didn’t regret it too much, and afterwards, they had enough to spare to head into the town proper and get Mary some new clothes, so she wouldn’t be stuck walking ‘round in a torn up blouse and skirt no more. 

At the tailor’s, Mary found herself a plain but pretty button-up blouse, turning down a pair of riding pants or chaps for a tough-woven demure skirt that went down to her ankles and allowed her to ride easily in her usual prim but surprisingly effective side-saddle—the skirts were long and giving enough to ride normal, too, iffin’ it were ever called for.

A pair of lady’s low-heeled boots, leather riding gloves, and a wide-brim hat with a simple ribbon finished the set, and when Mary rode out of town on her new horse, fresh dressed, face washed clean from a rainbarrel and hair neatly braided down her back, her mother’s dark green brooch fastened at the hollow of her throat, she looked a different woman entirely. Not some roughed-up outlaw like Sadie, but a proper lady out for a ride, entirely sure of herself and not looking to put up with any foolishness. 

“How do I look?” Mary asked her, when she noticed Sadie watching her. 

Sadie struggled for an answer, floundering, and came up with, “Jus’ fine,” ‘fore kicking Hera off in a huff, unsure why the question had bothered her so much. Been a long time since she’d felt something like that… Flustered was the word for it. A foolish, flighty thing when it came down to it, though Sadie’d rather be embarrassed than alone again. Mary made fine company, and Sadie hadn’t even realized how much she’d been hurting for some.

Mary was too thankful ‘bout all the recent gifts to press Sadie ‘bout the less’n savory source of their sudden funds. For that, Sadie was grateful. She didn’t want to lie to the other woman, but ‘bout that, she certainly would. It was better and safer to keep it down to only one of ‘em getting hanged, and Mary, Sadie decided with conviction, would keep her hands clean even if it were the last thing she ever made sure of.

Two horses made for far easier travel, and they covered decent ground. At first, Mary seemed to think they was heading to a particular location, but after a coupla days of aimless wandering, she accepted that Sadie just roamed from place to place without much rhyme or reason, which weren’t exactly wrong. She didn’t complain none about it, neither, and actually seemed to enjoy the many new sights of the beautiful country she’d only found sorrow and cruelty in so far.

When funds got low—and they did, faster’n before, since there were two of ‘em now—Sadie took on what jobs she could find, keeping Mary out of ‘em to the best of her ability, leaving her behind at camp and forbidding her to follow until she returned. Really, there weren’t much work for an outlaw like herself, but even the dirtiest jobs—literally, this time, like hustling stolen cows through mudfields or transporting moonshine in hot, stinking swamps or hell, even just mucking stalls for horse breeders—was better’n nothing.

One night, after a long, irritating job near Emerald Ranch nearly went sour, the sheep Sadie was rustling for a black market dealer almost giving her the slip and lawmen dogs barking after her a few miles back, Sadie collected her pay and made it back to camp awful late, feeling tired, beat up, saddle-sore and hungry. Mary, she figured, was either asleep or huddled up in her new bedroll, trying not to wake Sadie for her usual nightly weeping, still caught up in grieving her old life and loved ones gone by. Sadie understood, and hoped one day the other woman could get by without crying and feeling so sorry for herself. 

But when she rode up to their camp and swung herself off Hera, Mary weren’t asleep, or crying and feeling sorry for herself at all. ‘Stead, she was up and about, eyes faintly red but now lit by a strange, renewed sort of focus. Sadie was surprised to see she’d found the unskinned hare Sadie’d shot just that morning, and had even dug up some wild carrots and garlic by the look of her dirt-caked fingernails, and cut ‘em all up and thrown ‘em in a pot to make a thick, rich-smelling rabbit stew. Sadie’s stomach growled ferociously at the first whiff.

Camp’d been cleaned up, too, looked like, debris and rocks kicked away from the fire, bedrolls placed neatly nearby. Sadie’s custom Carbine Repeater and Carcano Rifle were laid off to the side, pristinely oiled. Christ. Mary’d even set up a bag with strips of clean cloth and alcohol, bandages at the ready in case Sadie’d been hurt while she was away. Mary was set on proving herself valuable, it seemed, not that Sadie’d been searching for a reason to leave her behind or anything. Still, it was nice, seeing all the effort she’d made, and gave Sadie a warm, homey feeling, to have someone waiting on her to get back safe and sound.

“You must be starvin’,” Mary said, looking relieved she was here but not asking where she’d been or what trouble she’d been up to. Prob'ly, she knew, and Sadie were the fool, tryna hide it. Mary fetched ‘em two bowls from the saddlebags—small, dented things Mary’d gotten from a traveling cart a day or so back, simply by tending to one of the feller’s draft horses who’d picked up a limp. She’d found the rock lodged deep in the horseshoe sure enough and pried it out with Sadie’s borrowed knife, looking all the world like she was born knowing her way ‘round horses. When Sadie’d asked about it, she’d said only, “Arthur taught me.”

Sadie sat herself down by the fire on a dry stump, taking the bowl of stew Mary handed her. It was piping hot, the heat going almost straight through her gloves. She took a slow sip from her spoon and nearly swooned. It was the best damn thing she’d eaten in weeks. Months, maybe. Hell, years. It tasted like something she’d forgotten during all her time alone, like a fond memory from the past—a warm, well-built ranch and a husband’s happy laughter, now burned and gone and long since dead. It tasted of a life lost. Of home.

Her throat went tight and hot and something in her chest squeezed down hard. She had to pause and put the bowl on her knees for a spell, swallowing hard again and again.

“Do you like it?” Mary asked, her back turned, stirring at the pot bubbling over the fire.

“S’good,” Sadie mumbled, and took another, bigger bite of stew, not caring if she burned her mouth. She quickly finished the bowl and asked eagerly for more—her way of saying thanks—sniffling quietly all the while, hoping Mary would think it was from the heat of the stew, and not from all the warm, painful memories of good times gone by.

From that night on, Mary always made sure to do her part while Sadie was off, making them some money. She’d chop firewood, or brush and feed the horses, or try a little hunting herself, nabbing squirrels and gophers with Sadie’s varmint rifle. One afternoon, she took Sadie’s Carcano Rifle with her and came back a few hours with an entire deer, the young buck too heavy for her to lift, tied and dragged back to camp by Francine. They ate well for weeks, after that. Again, Sadie asked how she’d managed such a thing, and again, Mary just said, “Arthur taught me.”

For a man Sadie’d never met before and had only heard ‘bout by word of mouth, this Arthur Morgan feller seemed more and more a good, respectable man, despite his sorry past and fateful dealings with the law, if only for helping Mary Linton become the woman she was today—and for that, Sadie was sure grateful.

—

Don’t mean it was all good, though, their travels together. Sadie’d been expecting it. Two women out on the open road weren’t never safe, not when the world was so filled with cruel people intent on taking what wasn’t theirs.

One night, 'bout a month after their random encounter on the road outside Valentine, Sadie woke at the sound of Mary’s sharp gasp. Their bedrolls were on opposite sides of the still-glowing fire, and ‘fore Sadie could sit up, the cold barrel of a gun jabbed into her neck, keeping her frozen in place.

"Easy now…” grated a harsh voice above, and Sadie went perfectly still ‘cept for her eyes, darting here and there as she took in the situation. Some no-good feller’d snuck into their camp while they was sleeping and was tryna rob ‘em, if not kill ‘em. Why hadn’t she thought to stay up and keep watch, dammit? ‘Specially in this area. She’d gotten too comfortable in the added security of Mary’s company. Robbing two people rather’n one was harder to do, sure, but still simple enough, if you knew what you was doing. 

Trapped laying on her side with a gun at her neck, Sadie ground her teeth, hearing a jangle of leather and metal catches as the feller kicked her gun belt away from where she’d put it by her head ‘fore nodding off. One of her revolvers fell out and skidded through the dirt into the dark. Dammit.

“Don’t be gettin’ no ideas,” said the feller. “We kin do this nice n’ quiet-like. Hand over all yer money. Slow. You first.” He jabbed Sadie a bit harder with the gun and spared Mary, frozen in terror on her own bedroll, a nasty look. “No funny business, now. Don’t wan’ me ta shoot yer friend, do ya?”

Slowly, not daring to look ‘cross the fire and meet Mary’s frightened eyes, Sadie reached into the nearby saddlebag and found their billfold. She tossed it on the ground where the feller could get it. If she were alone, she might try to fight ‘im now, grab the gun and go for a tussle, but she couldn’t risk Mary getting shot, not for no measly 8 dollars.

The man seemed disappointed by the amount as well, but grumbled and pocketed it anyways. “What else y’got? Gold? Jewelry?”

Sadie shrugged and tensed when the gun dug harder under her chin. “Take mah horse,” she joked, “if he don’ bite yer hand off first, that is.”

The feller eyed Hera, tied up with Francine a dozen or so feet away, the horse choosing that moment to paw the ground powerfully and toss his massive head. The feller hesitated, wary, and seemed ‘bout to give up on his botched robbery, raising the gun slightly away from Sadie’s face.

Then his eyes went hard. “The ring,” he said suddenly.

Sadie’s heart went cold in her chest. Her eyes darted down to her bare hands, and the gold ring on her third finger. Jakey’s ring, the one he’d given her when they married.

“Hand it over,” the feller said. 

Sadie clenched her other fist protectively ‘round it. He’d have to kill her first. “Y'kin pry it off mah cold dead—”

A dazzling blow struck her in the temple as the feller hit her with the butt of his gun. Sadie gasped and struggled dazedly, shoved onto her stomach, a cruel knee digging into her back.

“Geddoff a' me!” she roared.

“Look, lady, jus’ gimme the damn—”

“Don’t move!” cried a shrill voice.

They both froze. Sadie craned her head up, saw Mary on the other side of the smoldering fire, Sadie’s kicked-away revolver in her hands, cocked and pointing straight at the man’s face.

Sadie thought Mary’s hands would be shaking with raw fear or nerves, but her grip was dead-steady. That, more’n anything, gave the feller kneeling on Sadie’s back pause.

“You put that gun down right now, little lady,” said the feller, though he was at a disadvantage, what with his gun already lowered to the side. “Don’t want nobody ta get hurt, do we?”

“If you move,” Mary said in the clearest voice Sadie’d ever heard, “I’ll shoot you, mister.”

“Easy,” said the feller. “I’ll return yer money. Here…”

He reached into his pocket with painstaking slowness. Suddenly the knee on Sadie’s back shifted, but before Sadie could shout a warning, the feller leapt from his kneeling crouch, straight for Mary, his gun swinging up and around.

Mary flinched, and the gun went off. The feller shouted and staggered back, dropping his own gun, hands clapped to the side of his head, blood spurting through his fingers. Sadie faintly heard something hit the ground and swore at the sight of a piece of bloody ear in the dirt. Mary’d shot it clean off the bastard!

Roaring in pain, the man lunged for Mary. Sadie seized him by the ankle, tripping him over into the fire with a burst of red embers, scrambling to her feet. Clothes smoldering, struggling to his knees, the feller looked up just in time for Sadie’s fist to crack so hard 'gainst his jaw her knuckles popped. He went down like a sack of rocks, but Sadie weren’t done. She straddled his chest and hit ‘im again, and again, ‘til her hands were sore and she was sure he was finished. Not dead, just done, but only ‘cause Mary was there. Otherwise, Sadie would’ve gladly let that familiar red rage take her over, the blind fury she’d used during her years of killing those goddamn O’Driscoll bastards. 

But, no, that was before, and Sadie, she weren’t no cold-blooded killer no more. She forced herself to stop, shaking her head clear, finding herself out of breath and jittery from adrenaline. Beneath her, the man lay still but for his harsh, bubbling breath. Sadie stood shakily and stepped away. 

“Mary?” she called out worriedly, turning ‘round.

In the meager light of their trodden campfire, Mary looked stricken, her face pale with horror, mouth hanging slightly open—but not at Sadie. Rather, she was looking at her own two hands, still holding Sadie’s revolver, like she couldn’t quite believe what she’d just done. Hell, Sadie was having trouble with it, too. She’d never thought quiet little Mary Linton could do such a bold thing as threaten and then actually shoot some nasty feller, and to protect Sadie Adler of all people besides. Sadie wouldn’ta even blamed her none if Mary’d hidden while the feller was distracted with Sadie, then waited ‘til he ran off, the fool woman. It was the smart thing to do, after all.

Brave little thang, Mary Linton was. Foolish, sure, but brave.

“Lemme take that,” Sadie said, approaching Mary slowly, keeping her voice low and soothing as she eased the gun from Mary’s white-knuckle grip. While it was clear Mary had certainly held or fired a gun before, it sure seemed now that she’d never actually shot a person with one.

Mary released the gun and seemed to sag a bit. Sadie surveyed their invaded camp—the feller still breathing harshly over by the fire, out cold, his horse whickering a-ways off—and said, “Whut y’say we clear out, huh?”

Seeming to gather herself, Mary nodded. Together, they repacked their things and put out the fire, but not ‘fore Sadie robbed the stupid feller blind, frisking him clean of his guns, money, and anything else of value. His horse, she lassoed tight and tied to the horn of Hera’s saddle. They’d sell ‘im at the next nearest Fence, teach that dumb feller a lesson or two.

By the light of the moon, they cantered off a good ways. When they felt safe again—or, ‘bout as safe as they could feel, after all that—they stopped and set up camp for the second time that night, only this time without a fire. Sadie put her bedroll right next to Mary’s.

“Seems we’re makin’ a habit of savin’ each other, aren’t we, now?” she tried to joke.

Mary gave her a weak smile. “Seems so,” she said, then lifted a hand to her brow, looking dreadful pale. “I’m feelin’ a little faint, I think. I might like to lay down now.”

Sadie helped her lower herself to the bedroll and then got settled on her own, though she weren’t planning on sleeping anytime soon. The weight of her guns on her hips were a small comfort, and her Carbine Repeater, she kept propped just nearby.

“I’m sorry,” Mary said suddenly. 

“Sorry?” said Sadie, lighting up a cigarette with a red flare of her match.

“I didn’t want to kill him. That’s why I only…” Mary fell quiet, then said again, “I’m sorry.”

Sadie huffed. “Yer a tough lady, Mary Linton, n’ don’ let nobody tell y' otherwise.”

For the first time since Sadie had rescued her, Mary smiled. If Sadie had thought her a pretty little thing before, now she was just ‘bout the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, even swamped in darkness, features outlined in the meager light of the moon.

“Not as tough as you, Sadie Adler,” Mary said in return.

—

Out riding a few days later, Sadie got to thinking ‘bout the other night, how Mary had seemed so sorry for what she’d done, like it weren’t an accident she’d shot the feller’s ear off ‘stead of just squeezing the trigger on sheer reflex and luck. It made Sadie wonder just how used to guns Mary was—she sure held ‘em easy 'nough, and properly, too, and from the look of things when she cleaned Sadie’s for her, she definitely knew what she was doing.

Curious, Sadie waited ‘til after they’d made camp early that afternoon, then set up a line of empty cans and bottles on some rocks a-ways out. She smoked and took a few lazy potshots with her revolvers ‘til Mary wandered over, wondering what all the commotion was about, face and hair damp from a rinse in the nearby stream.

Sadie took a shot at a bottle and missed, then offered Mary her second revolver. “Wanna try?” 

Mary seemed reluctant at first, taking the gun with visible hesitance, no doubt still spooked by their encounter the other night, then warmed up to the idea when Sadie cracked one of the furthest targets and whooped aloud in triumph as the can went flying. Sadie tried for a second one, missed, then noticed Mary edging forward, and stepped aside for her to have a turn. 

Mary picked one of the closer targets, squinted, aimed carefully, waited a moment, then fired. Sadie felt a small kick in her chest when the bottle popped and exploded glass ‘cross the rocks. She whooped again and Mary blushed. 

“Anyone could’ve hit that…” she demurred, but Sadie could tell when someone was boasting, and when someone was just being modest. If this woman didn’t know how to shoot, Sadie’d eat her hat.

Sadie couldn’t resist. “Wanna have a lil’ competition? Loser cooks supper.”

Mary cocked her head, then grinned shyly. It was the first halfway-confident look Sadie’d seen from her since they’d met, and something ‘bout it hit deep, in a good way. Her chest gave another small kick, like a bottle were popping inside of her this time.

“Best outta five targets,” Sadie said, making up the rules as she went. She fetched the remaining cans and bottles and put ‘em out further than before, just to make it a real challenge. When she jogged back, she was very aware of Mary watching her closely, and made a show of taking off her hat and spinning the cylinder on her revolver in false bravado. “Ready?”

Mary nodded and stepped back, letting Sadie go first. Sadie drew a line in the dirt with her boot, took a stance, held her cigarette tight in her teeth, aimed carefully for each target, and shot five times, pausing between her shots to line up her targets. She took her time ‘bout it, refusing to rush, but only hit three out of the five. She weren’t surprised, though—the best shot in the West, Sadie Adler sure wasn’t, and the targets were plenty far away besides. At least she'd hit any of 'em.

“Your turn,” she said and stepped back.

Mary took her place quietly, toe on the drawn line. As Sadie watched, she turned herself sideways and held Sadie’s revolver upright in one hand, her slender arm perfectly outstretched. She squeezed her left eye closed, and then suddenly, almost seeming not to aim, shot rapid-fire—bam, bam, bam, bam, bam—her thumb a blur as it cocked the hammer for each bullet, hitting each of her five targets square and true in the space of less’n two breaths. 

Cans spun high into the air, glass exploding 'cross the rocks with each shot, the gun reports collapsing together and echoing on into the canyons beyond. 

Sadie’s cigarette fell from her open mouth and fizzled out on the bare ground.

Mary lowered her arm and turned back to her, twirling the gun expertly on her forefinger. Then she winked—winked!—and held the gun out so Sadie could take it safely by the handle.

“Enjoy cookin’ tonight, Missus Adler,” she said playfully, tucking a curled bit of hair behind her ear ‘fore swanning off, looking right pleased with herself. 

“Arthur teach you that, too?” Sadie called after her. Mary laughed, a bright, happy sound that made Sadie’s heart go light and giddy. Sadie grinned and watched her go, feeling like this woman were a right mystery, but one she might like to try and solve someday.

—

Weeks passed. ‘Fore Sadie knew it, two months had gone by, then three and four. Full summer became golden-brown fall. Across the country, farms were tended and crops readied for the eventual harvest, trees felled and firewood chopped in preparation for ever-approaching winter. Log cabins and houses sprung up like weeds, once-small towns sprawling larger almost every day, trains constantly rumbling by on their ever-growing snarl of tracks. 

Couldn’t stop the advance of civilization nor the greedy, far-extending reach of man, Sadie knew. The West was changing sure as rain. She and Mary, they saw it all, traveling from New Hanover to West Elizabeth to New Austin and back again, even swinging north to see a bit of the Ambarinos ‘fore full winter hit, then skirting east to Annesburg and heading south into Lemoyne, never staying in one place longer’n a week or so. 

By now, Sadie’d grown used to having Mary traveling with her, the other woman near constantly at her side, ‘til it almost seemed she couldn’t remember no different. Them sad, lonely days of wandering alone on the road were gone, and Sadie, well, she sure couldn’t say she missed ‘em none. As for Mary, she seemed happy enough to continue to keep her company. She smiled and laughed so easy now, and didn’t cry no more at night, if that meant anything. Sadie sure hoped it did.

Knowing it’d be getting colder soon, Sadie bought 'em a small canvas tent for camp so she and Mary could sleep fine in the rain and chill, and at night found herself liking Mary’s close, warm presence at her back when they slept. It reminded her of when she were married, only… different, but not entirely. It was hard to explain. Sadie felt odd whenever she thought about it too much. She missed Jakey something awful, always would, but having Mary around, it… it helped, more’n she could say, and hopefully, it helped Mary, too. It showed Sadie that she wasn’t just taking care of Mary, but that Mary was taking care of her, too.

She still kept Mary out of the dirty business anytime she went off to look for work, though she found herself taking on the black market rackets and robbery jobs less and less as time went by. ‘Fore long, she was going out of her way to look for more honest, legitimate employment—things like protecting trade routes for merchants or guarding tobacco fields at night for landowners. It weren’t so dangerous as them other jobs, too, nor so apt to have cruel-hearted men following after her with blood on their minds. Now, ‘stead of feeling dirty or ashamed when she finished a job, she felt proud, and brought home her well-earned pay to Mary with head high and renewed conscience clear. The warm look Mary always gave her when she trotted back into camp, those dark, doe eyes of hers filled with a fond gratitude and no little respect, made it all worthwhile.

On a warm day in late fall, they rode together into Rhodes. They’d arrived in the area a few days back and set up camp in the hills near Ringneck Creek, north of town, wary of unwarranted visitors, and after several peaceful nights had decided to head in for supplies.

Unlike Saint Denis, which was far too loud and crowded for her tastes, Sadie liked Rhodes well ‘nough. It was a quiet place but rowdy if you knew where to look, and a nice change of pace from the thick, swampy wilderness and hard dirt roads they’d traveled through to get there.

They left their horses hitched by the general store, and while Mary went along the line of shops to take in the sights and get them some much needed rations, Sadie went looking for work, as she usually did when they came into each pocket of civilization dotting the wide countryside.

Unfortunately, there weren’t much work to be had. The manors had all the hands they needed and business at the stagecoaches was slow. As a last resort, she knocked on the door to the Sheriff’s and went in. 

“Howdy,” said a feller with the biggest mustache Sadie’d ever seen and a star pinned on his jacket. Sadie waited a moment, as she always did when dealing with the law, just in case she were recognized from her short but bloody outlaw past, but the feller didn’t even blink. “What kin I do fer ya, ma’am?”

Sadie paused again. Bounties were legitimate work, so to speak, though she knew Mary didn’t like when she took ‘em, if only ‘cause she didn’t want Sadie getting shot up or hurt on their behalf. Still, beggars couldn’t be no choosers, and Sadie’s billfold was lighter’n she liked. They needed to eat. “Got any work, mister?”

“Depends how des’prate y’are,” said the Sheriff, and motioned at the wall, where a single poster was tacked. Sadie obliged and removed it to take a closer look.

On it was a picture of a weasly-looking feller with a big hat. Ramon Cortez, it said. Wanted for murder, theft, robbery, you name it. Sadie whistled lowly as the list went on. This here was a bad man, rotten right to the core.

“Nasty feller,” said the Sheriff helpfully. “Killed a whole family out by Blackwater a few weeks back, n’ Lord knows who else besides. Runs with a gang called the Del Lobos, originally from out west, New Austin. He’s one a’ their leaders. Damn near every time we catch ‘im, his posse busts ‘im out ‘fore we can hang ‘im. Shame.”

Sadie nodded. Below Cortez’s picture were the words WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE.

The reward, listed just above that, made Sadie near inhale her cigarette in disbelief. “Five hundred dollars?” she rasped, tryna keep her voice even. “Jeezus. Why so much?”

“One a’ them ones he murdered turned out to be the niece a’ the mayor in Saint Denis,” said the Sheriff. “He personally added a bonus to the bounty, fer, ah, incentive purposes.”

Incentive purposes? That sounded ‘bout right. The paper crinkled in Sadie’s fingers as her hands trembled. Five hundred dollars was damn near unspeakable for a single bounty. That kinda money would get her and Mary through the remainder of the year and then some. They could rest easy through winter, or travel as they pleased without worry, or even buy a nice piece of land to call their own and settle down if they chose. It was guaranteed freedom, the possibility of dreaming for the unthinkable, and so much more.

“Ain’t no one caught ‘im yet?” she asked, surprised the poster was still up if the reward was so high. It looked like it’d been hanging there a while, too, edges curled and discolored.

“Oh, they’ve tried,” said the Sheriff grimly. “I should warn ya, ma’am. No less’n three other bounty hunters went after Cortez, and ain’t none a’ them come back. Been weeks since anyone tried, if I’m bein’ honest. Y’see, this feller, he’s known for bein’ ‘specially ruthless. Anyone who’s ever wronged him ended up dead, or, barrin’ that, paid for it dearly with the lives a’ their family n’ loved ones. After those first few bounty hunters went missin’, ain’t nobody else tried—too scared. Cortez, he don’t care much who he kills, so long as he’s hurtin’ someone. He’s a blackhearted, vengeful sonva bitch, that’s fer sure.”

Sadie was quiet. It seemed a death sentence, a fool’s job—five hundred dollars for a single man, yet no one had managed to claim the reward yet. Sure, Sadie’d always thought she wanted to die. After Jakey, and them awful O’Driscolls, she’d truly believed it was over for her. What else did she have to live for? Dying didn’t scare her none, not after that. 

Now, though… Well, what would happen to Mary if Sadie weren’t around no more? Way Sadie saw it, there was nothing for it but to stay alive for her sake, so’s she could keep protecting her. 

But to protect someone, you needed more than just good intentions. Money’s what made the world go ‘round these days, and five hundred dollars was a lot. Too much to walk away from, that’s for sure.

“Kin Ah take this?” Sadie asked, and when the Sheriff nodded, folded up the poster into a neat little square. 

“Good luck t’ya, ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat at her. “Yer gonna need it.”

“Ain’t made up mah mind yet,” Sadie insisted, though inside, she knew she had. The money made the risk worth it. If she could find this Cortez feller, her and Mary would be set for a good while, though she knew the other woman wouldn’t approve of Sadie putting herself in danger just to keep ‘em warm and fed. 

In that moment, she wondered if this was how Arthur, Mary’s lost love, had felt, saying to her, Just one more. Just one more, Mary, I swear.

“Jus’ one more,” she whispered to herself, and slipped the folded up paper into her pocket.

—

When they got back to their camp, the sun was starting to set, the horizon cast a bright, bloody red color that made Sadie oddly nervous. Feeling the crinkle of the folded poster in her trouser pocket every time she moved, she decided if she were doing the fool job, she’d try to do it tonight, and just get the damn thing over and done with. 

“Ah’ve got a job,” she announced after helping Mary find some firewood for the evening and piled it by their little canvas tent. She’d been too anxious to eat their supper, a roasted, well-seasoned grouse Mary’d shot on their way back from Rhodes.

“Oh?” said Mary, distracted with drying Sadie’s pan and packing it away in a saddlebag.

“A boun'y,” said Sadie, ‘fore she could ask, and did her best not to flinch when Mary looked up at her—not sharply, or like she were disappointed or irritated, just concerned, like she always was when it came to Sadie taking on that sort of work. “Ah’ll be fine,” she said, tongue near curling ‘round the lie. “But Ah need t’ head out soon. Now, actually.”

“Oh,” Mary said again, sounding a bit sad and unsure this time, wiping her hands on her skirt ‘fore tucking a dark lock of hair behind her ear. “Well… you'll be careful, now, won't you?”

“‘Course,” said Sadie, and stubbed out the cigarette she’d lit only a few minutes ago but hadn’t been able to smoke from nerves, grinding the butt under the heel of her boot. She took a step forward, toward Mary, who went still, surprised. Sadie didn’t usually linger so long ‘fore a job.

“Sadie—?” she began questioningly, but Sadie cut her off.

“Stay here,” she told Mary, her voice as harsh and firm as she could make it. “Promise me. Y'wait here ‘til Ah get back. Ah won’ be long.” Unholstering one of her revolvers, she held it out to her. “Take this. Please. Jus’ so Ah know you’ll be safe.”

Mary was quiet. Her face, though edged with confusion, was bright and familiar and beautiful, not at all suspicious of what Sadie was doing, how she was lying to her and riding off to maybe get her damn self killed. Sadie was ready to beg for her to take it, but then Mary reached out, clasped the gun, and tucked it quickly into the back of her skirt, under her belt. 

Sadie thought she'd feel better, knowing Mary had a weapon, but she didn’t. She still felt as awful and rotten a coward as before. “Stay here,” she said again, though now it was more of a beg than a command.

Mary bit her lip, then nodded. “I promise, Sadie,” she said, and Sadie ‘bout sagged with relief to hear it. “I’ll wait up for you, for when you get back.”

Struck with a sudden, powerful surge of affection, Sadie reached out, took Mary by the waist, and hugged her tightly. It was the first time she’d ever done so. Mary went rigid with shock at the sudden embrace, then seemed to melt in her arms, as if she’d been waiting forever for Sadie to hold her like this, turning her face so her nose rested just below Sadie’s chin. She fit perfectly. She was small and warm and sweet-smelling, and after only a moment or two, raised her own arms and held Sadie back just as fiercely, fingers digging hard into the back of her shirt.

“Whut’re y’doin’ here, Mary?” Sadie whispered, at a loss, feeling oddly emotional just then. Like she was off to the gallows and this was her last goodbye with the only person who gave a damn ‘bout her in the world.

Mary’s head shifted, her ear brushing Sadie’s cheek. “What d’you mean?” she asked, puzzled, breathing warmly into Sadie’s shoulder. “I’m—I’m here ‘cause you’re huggin’ me—”

“No,” said Sadie. “Ah meant, whut’re y’doin’ here, with me?” Suddenly she couldn't stop herself, all the weakness and doubt and worries she’d ever had pouring out at once. “Ah’m—Ah’m no good, don’ y'know that? Ah ain’t nothin’ but trouble. Ah done so many bad things in mah life. Cain’t even take proper care of you. Maybe Ah shoulda left y' in Valentine like y'wan’ed.”

Mary jerked back, glaring up at Sadie and bristling like a wildcat. “Don’t you say that,” she snapped. “Don’t you regret what you done, 'cause this is where I wanna be, Sadie Adler, and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t. Not in some city or town or married off to another feller. I’m here. With you. You saved me, understand?” Her eyes seemed to say, now please, let me do the same for you.

‘Cause really, she was saving Sadie—saving her from an awful, lonely life of spite and hatred and death and regret, saving her from her own sorrow and grief and poisonous anger, and how she’d been tryna kill herself for these past few years, not with a noose or a gun but with danger and violence and cold blooded misery. That dead-end road Sadie’d been walking on only stopped in one place, and Mary, she’d taken Sadie’s hand, showed her a new direction, and helped her take the first few steps to start her along the way.

Sadie knew she might die tonight, might lose it all, and yet she still wanted to say so many things to Mary. Like, Ah ain’t nothin’ without you, or Please don’t ever go, or Y'made me happy when Ah thought there was nothin’ else left.

Mary looked at her, then, and somehow, it was like she understood everything Sadie couldn’t say. 

“Oh, Sadie,” she said, and smiled sadly.

Sadie made herself let her go. She whirled ‘round and stalked over to Hera, feeling scared and confused and overwhelmed, ashamed of herself but utterly determined to return to Mary, whatever the cost. She hoisted herself into her saddle, took one last look at Mary—standing there alone by the campfire with hands clasped in front of her, backlit by the flames in a brilliant red glow, her shadowed face serene and beautiful and filled with a strange, deeply-sat yearning—and then put her heels to her horse and raced off into the night.

—

Getting herself into a goddamn fool of a shootout weren’t part of Sadie’s plan, going in, but there sure weren’t no getting out of it now. 

‘Fore she’d headed out of town earlier that day, the Rhodes Sheriff had given her a tip that Ramon Cortez might be hunkered down somewhere near Dewberry Creek, a rocky area scattered through with dry brooks and trees near the northern border of Lemoyne. Sadie weren’t too familiar with the area, and took care riding Hera through the thick brush and various gullies and ridges, looking for the signs of a low-lying gang tryna avoid the law. 

Hours later, she was ready to give up. It was far past midnight and she didn’t like Hera trotting about in the dark, risking a broken leg from a gopher hole with every step, nevermind that if she did find the gang, she’d have to go ahead and go through with this deadman’s errand. 

Just ‘fore she was ‘bout to turn tail and head on back to camp, five hundred dollars be damned, she smelled smoke. Curious, she followed it to a dry creekbed scattered with debris—broken down wagons, shattered boards, bent bits of metal. Feeling in her gut she was on the right track, she followed it a-ways and jerked Hera to a sudden halt at the sight of a distant campfire under a train bridge. Ringed ‘round the fire were the dark shapes of a group of jeering, shabby-looking men. 

Christ. She’d found ‘em.

In the dark, Sadie couldn’t tell who was who, though she was sure they were Del Lobo, judging by their clothing and accents. But which one was Cortez, if the feller were even there? She circled carefully ‘round the camp and stopped at an old, abandoned water mill on the hill nearby, slid off Hera, retrieved her Carcano Rifle, and shooed her horse off. Finding herself a good vantage point, she used the scope to get herself a closer look at the situation ‘fore she did anything else. 

There were ‘bout fifteen fellers down there, looked like. Sadie counted twice to make sure. Most had guns or rifles, their horses grouped and hitched up nearby. Some of the fellers looked drunk. Others were sleeping. To Sadie, they didn’t look awful tough, though prob’ly she were just tryna convince herself this foolishness was anything close to a good idea.

By the time she was ready, the scheduled 3AM train had come and gone, rumbling over the gang’s hideout with a deafening clatter, though none of the men paid it no nevermind. More had dozed off by now, though Sadie could see at least four still awake. Plan was, she’d creep down there and take care of the look-outs, then find Cortez and either knock him out and creep away silently, or take him hostage if the others had caught on by then.

‘Course, Sadie weren’t ever the best at stealth, and the very first feller she knocked out with a stunning blow from the butt of her rifle fired his own gun by sheer reflex. Goddamn!

In an instant, the camp was on high alert, fellers hollering everyone awake and guns blasting pell-mell right at Sadie, who swore and threw herself behind the nearest boulder.

Thankful for the extra practice she’d gotten during these past few months—Mary was a hesitant but thorough teacher, showing Sadie near everything Arthur’d taught her ‘bout guns and shooting, which was a lot—Sadie used the light of the moon to pick her targets as well she could, crouching tight behind the boulder for cover, hot chips of rock whizzing by as bullets cracked past her ears, only just missing. One almost hit the hat right off her head, leaving a smoking hole burned through the brim.

Somehow, by sheer luck more’n true skill, prob’ly, Sadie managed to slowly whittle their numbers down. When there were only half a dozen fellers left, she checked her ammunition, grimaced, and took another shot. Hell, maybe she should’ve brought Mary, then she wouldn’ta wasted so damn much!

Suddenly, one of the men yelled something to the others, then turned and ran, jumping on one of the horses and kicking it off into a gallop. Sadie caught a brief glimpse of his face in her scope, and knew in her gut it was Cortez, tryna get away.

“You bastard!” she hollered.

She whistled and sprinted for Hera, who came running. She leapt on and he neighed shrilly, rose up on his back legs, and gave chase, bullets whizzing by all the while. Sadie was worried the rest of the bandits might follow, though she was sure Hera could outpace ‘em easy enough, but when she looked back over her shoulder, the five or so men were mounting their horses but wheeling ‘round and setting off in the other direction. Cowards, making a run for it, just like their boss.

With renewed focus, she urged Hera after Cortez. For a good while, it was just him and her and the stretch of ground shrinking ‘tween ‘em. After a neck-breaking gallop over several miles, she got close enough to sling her rope at him, catching the bastard ‘round the middle. She yanked hard and jerked ‘im right outta the saddle with a hard thud.

“Whoa!” she cried, skidding Hera to a stop and jumping off. On the ground, writhing 'gainst her rope, was just the man she was after—Ramon Cortez, in the flesh. Jesus. She’d done it.

“A woman?” Cortez barked disdainfully up at her. He’d hit his face in the fall from his horse, nose bleeding down over his chin. He laughed. “Hey, chica. You’re in for it now, eh? Don’t you know who I am?”

“Shut yer mouth,” said Sadie, shaky from the gunfight and headlong chase, and set to tying ‘im up good and proper.

“I’m no nice guy, chica. Let me go, and I promise I won’t hold no grudges, eh? You want gold? I’ve got gold. I’ll give you two thousand dollars worth of gold!”

“Shuddup,” said Sadie again, hogtying the fool and searching his pockets for weapons.

Cortez seemed to realize Sadie couldn’t be baited. The playful smile on his bloody face twisted into something sick and cruel. “Listen, lady. You let me go, or—”

“Or whut?” Sadie snapped back, ready to cuff the bastard into silence.

Cortez leered. “I know everythin’ that happens ‘round here, yeah? Two strangers, both women, ridin’ ‘round town and visiting the Sheriff, n’ now you show up?”

Sadie’s guts went cold. She should’ve figured Cortez had scouts of his own, that he weren’t just sitting there in his camp waiting for someone to come to him. He must’ve sent members of his gang sniffing ‘round at some point. He’d known ‘bout Sadie from the get-go. 

“Ah work alone,” Sadie lied, though her voice was shaking.

“‘Course you do,” said Cortez. “You left your little friend back at camp, eh? Don’t worry. My men will take good care of her, I promise.”

A bullet of ice snapped through Sadie’s chest. The men—the ones who’d wheeled off—they weren’t fleeing. They were heading back towards Sadie’s camp. Towards Mary. 

The Rhodes Sheriff had been right—Ramon Cortez was a cold, black-hearted son of a bitch with a taste for vengeance. He was nothing but a venomous snake, and now Sadie was feeling the bite.

“Better hurry,” said Cortez, chuckling dark and meanly. “You’ll have to bring me in real quick so you can get your money and go save your friend.”

Sadie’s mind raced. She had Ramon Cortez tied up and ready to go to jail. The five hundred dollar bounty was good as hers. But bringing ‘im to Rhodes would take too long, and carrying ‘im back to camp with her meant Hera couldn’t run as fast. They’d never beat the men already on their way. And leaving Cortez here meant someone might come ‘round and free the damn bastard. He’d get away, avoid the noose, and come after them again, no doubt.

“So, whatchu gon’ do, lady?” Cortez gloated, smiling at her with bloody teeth, as if knowing she were stuck good and fast.

Dead or Alive, Sadie told herself, unholstered her revolver, and shot Ramon Cortez point blank in the chest.

She whistled and was on Hera’s back ‘fore the feller’d even stopped twitching. She left ‘im there in the dirt, all five hundred dollar bounty and everything, and raced off into the night, leaning low over Hera’s neck.

She rode hard as she could back toward camp, terrified and furious in turn. These were bad men in front of her. They might do anything to Mary. Beat her, torture her, hurt her something awful. Kill her, even, or drag her off for another ransom. They had a headstart on Sadie, too, though she was sure she had the better horse. Hera seemed to sense her panic—he was a beast, galloping headlong for miles and miles, not slowing for nothing, running tirelessly, like something possessed, his powerful legs churning through the distance ‘tween her and Mary like a speeding train.

Just one more. Just one more. Oh, Mary, forgive me.

The second Hera began to flag in his monstrous flight back to Ringneck Creek, the light of their distant campfire glinted into view. Sadie swore—she should’ve hidden it better. The first few fingers of dawn had just begun to creep over the far horizon, utter black fading to a light, rosy pink.

Suddenly, the sound of explosive gunfire erupted—she hadn’t beaten the men there. Sadie ‘bout jumped right outta her skin at the tumult, terrified for Mary, yelling “Yah!” and digging her heels in to desperately force Hera onward. She was nearly there when another horse bolted by, heading the opposite way—Francine, scared but unharmed by the look of it. Sadie’d catch her later, but first—

But first—

“Mary!” she shouted, finally coming into camp and skidding Hera to a halt. Her poor horse was gleaming with sweat, flanks heaving. She was lucky he hadn’t tripped in the dark and broken his neck, or didn’t die right then from exhaustion. Sadie leapt off him, beyond thankful he’d gotten her there at all, and staggered forward, feeling dizzy on her own two feet after so long and frantic a ride. The frantic gunfire had quieted, though she could hear scared horses neighing nearby and see debris scattered on the ground. Where—?

Something caught her foot and she looked down, then froze. “Shit!”

It wasn’t debris. Littered by the dwindling campfire were the bodies of five dead men. One’d been shot through the eye, another in the forehead. Two more were still moaning faintly, breathing their last, curled up with hands clutched to their guts. The fifth had died fast, a cold hand still grasping his bloody chest, shot directly in the heart. 

Mary was nowhere in sight. The camp was in disarray, like there’d been a fierce struggle. Their tent had been knocked down, their saddlebags and belongings kicked about.

“Mary?” she called again, voice gravelly with panic. Ain’t no way five men lay dead here in the dirt while a single woman walked away unharmed. Ain’t no way they were that lucky. It just didn’t work like that. The world was a cruel place for people like them, and Sadie, she knew more’n others not to hope, not to expect nothing but the worst, knew that it’d do no good to pray for anything else after she’d done so and all the bad things in her life had come to pass anyways, but still—but still—

Something moved. Sadie gasped.

Crouched by a nearby boulder, dark hair askew, eyes wild like an animal’s and Sadie’s gun clutched tight in her hand, was Mary. She drew a bead on Sadie on sheer instinct, all quick-fire nerves but aim not the least bit shaky, face cold and numbed and stony ‘fore she realized just who she was aiming at. She stood hastily, face sagging as she lowered the gun, knees quivering like they were ‘bout to give out. There was blood on her chin from a glancing punch to her mouth and more on her sleeve from a nasty bullet graze.

“Sadie,” she gasped. “Sadie, I—”

Then her face went hard and frigid. The gun in her hand snapped up and fired instantly. Sadie felt the heat of the bullet crack by her ear and stood there, frozen for several seconds with her heart in her throat. She heard a gurgle, then turned and watched as the last Del Lobo member, a sixth man she hadn’t even noticed, fell dead to the ground, a throwing knife aimed for Sadie’s back still in his hand. Mary’d shot ‘im straight through the throat. Sadie stared, mute and dazed, as he twitched and kicked and at last went still.

"Are you alright, Sadie?” Mary asked breathlessly.

Sadie turned to her. A hot wave surged through her body, almost like being struck by a bolt of lightning. The feeling from before was back, that confusing, unfamiliar knot of heat in her stomach, mixed with a dozen others she knew the names to—relief, fear, awe, pain, gratitude, regret, affection, sorrow, love. It was the last that came out strongest, thundering forth like some unstoppable force, and Sadie seized it with all she had and held on fast, even though it burned.

She lurched forward, grabbed Mary by the front of her shirt and kissed her, good and hard. Mary made a soft, shocked sound ‘gainst her mouth and dropped her gun with an audible thud, surprised or aghast or maybe even offended, but she didn’t push Sadie away or slap her or nothing. Matter a’ fact, after a second or two she reached up and sank her fingers into the sleeves of Sadie’s shirt, clinging on for dear life, stepping closer and almost knocking Sadie’s hat off her head in her sudden enthusiasm, kissing her back ‘til the both of ‘em were breathless and flushed and dizzy and alive. 

Alive.

—

By morning light, they returned together to collect Ramon Cortez’s corpse. Sadie kept Hera at a slow trot, anxious to give the horse some rest after his exhausting race back to camp. They’d found Francine a few miles out, the spooked mare returning to Mary’s hand after some coaxing and not a few sugar cubes. The rest of the gang’s scattered horses, they left alone.

Cortez was right where Sadie’d left him. He’d been nibbled on by some night critter or another, but a cougar hadn’t dragged ‘im off and his face was mostly untouched, so Sadie tied him to Francine to spare her own horse and she and Mary headed for Rhodes.

The Sheriff seemed surprised to see Sadie back so soon, bushy eyebrows rising high, taking visible note of her haggard, weary face, Mary’s bloodstained shirt, and the partially feral light in the fine woman’s dark, hooded eyes.

“You ladies look like y’ had yerselves a battle,” he commented, then whistled, impressed, when he saw exactly who they’d brought to him. “I’ll be damned.”

Sadie didn’t need no fanfare. She dumped the body on the steps, took the stack of money from the Sheriff without a word, and went straight to the parlour house down the street to buy her and Mary both a turn with a washtub. It was the very least they’d earned after all that, in her opinion.

Afterwards, clean but far from rested, they bought and ate a celebratory meal of whiskey and the house specialty, fried catfish, though Sadie found she much preferred Mary’s honest and hearty campfire cooking. When Sadie asked if she wanted to rent a room for tonight, and sleep in a real bed for once, Mary just shook her head and replied with a quiet, “No.” 

Only slightly surprised, Sadie nodded and avoided her eyes, as she’d been doing all that morning. As if in apology for her newfound awkward behavior, she bought Mary a new shirt to replace her torn, bloody one, and had the local doctor see to her hastily bandaged arm, though Mary outright refused to go in ‘til Sadie agreed to get herself looked at, too.

The doctor told ‘em they were both fine, just fatigued and in sore need of some rest. He did Mary’s arm up proper, sold 'em a bottle of tonic for their bruises, and sent ‘em on their way. Sadie didn’t protest none—she considered it a damn-near miracle neither of ‘em had been full-on shot or killed during the wild, harebrained gunfights they’d both had the night before. She weren't sure who exactly was looking out for 'em—God or Jakey or maybe even Arthur—but either way, she was awful thankful for their wayward protection.

As they left town, Sadie could see folks gathering and heard ‘em murmuring in awe ‘bout how she’d nabbed the man three other bounty hunters couldn’t, though she didn’t feel particularly prideful ‘bout it, just tired and sore and damn lucky to be alive.

They rode north, heading out of Lemoyne and toward the New Hanover Heartlands. They stopped only to eat when they were hungry and went on ‘til practically full dark. Sadie found she was almost afraid to call a stop, knowing when she did she’d have to face Mary and everything that’d so recently changed ‘tween ‘em. Trotting behind her on Francine, Mary was similarly silent, her usually warm, open expression closed off and reserved. Not cold, exactly, just... thoughtful.

Eventually, they left the road and found themselves a private, quiet stand of trees for the night. Sadie got down and started setting up camp without a word. Mary watched her in that quietly intense way of hers, eyes practically burning holes 'gainst Sadie’s back, then daintily got off her own horse to help.

Sadie was beyond exhausted. She’d been up the entire night before, hunting down Cortez and then racing back to camp, but for some reason the thought of getting some well-deserved sleep now seemed daunting to her—or maybe it was just the thought of sharing the tent’s close quarters with Mary that spooked her, after that fiery kiss they’d had and then neglected to talk about for the whole goddamn day, for obvious reasons.

Coward that she was, after the horses were brushed and the meal eaten and fire banked, Sadie said to Mary in as normal a voice as she could muster, “Ah’m gunna stay up a bit. Make sure we ain’t been followed. Jus’ in case.”

Mary was quiet, and for a long moment just looked at Sadie again with those dark, unreadable eyes of hers. Sadie was near squirming when at last she said, “Alright.” She seemed ‘bout to say something else, then thought better of it, and knelt and slipped inside their shared tent without another word, the little canvas flaps falling shut after her. A few seconds later, the soft glow of their hanging lantern went on inside, and Sadie watched the dim shape of Mary settling down for the night 'fore making herself look away.

Sadie sat by the fire and nursed her tin cup for a spell, the coffee since gone cold and bitter, smoking a cigarette and thinking herself into a dozen confusing circles. She felt jumpy and off, like she sometimes did before a risky job or when she'd hugged Mary close the other night, her stomach going upside down and sideways and tied in knots besides. Her heart was racing strangely, lodged up high in her throat, her knee jittering uncontrollably under her elbow. She forced it still, pulled her hat down, and made herself wait for their tent to go dark, wondering if maybe she should try and get some sleep out here, just to avoid the other woman a bit longer.

Some time later, she noticed their little tent was still aglow—Mary hadn’t snuffed the lantern yet, which was odd, as she’d never had a problem going to sleep without Sadie before, and for a moment, she was concerned. Then it hit.

Mary was waiting, too.

Only, she weren't waiting like Sadie was, hiding out here in the dark, too afraid to take a bold step forward into the gap that'd formed 'tween 'em. No, Mary was good and ready, that was clear, even now, when the both of 'em were at their most unsure and scared, nevermind that there weren’t any guns going off just then or bad men on their trail no more. Maybe it'd just been too long for Sadie to ever hope or believe someone so good and pure as Mary might care for a rotten scoundrel like her, that she might want her the way Sadie wanted her... It just couldn't be possible.

But then, Sadie thought suddenly, she’d already gone and kissed her, hadn’t she, had already showed Mary her heart and all she had to give, and the other woman hadn’t slapped her or scowled in disgust or up and left her behind.

No. 'Stead, she was still here, in their tent, waiting on her.

A warm, syrupy feeling pooled in Sadie's chest at that, bracing and only faintly familiar. It reminded her of bravery, of sincere trust and utter gratitude and open affection. It reminded her of a hard-earned happiness, that far-traveling friend she hadn't seen in so long.

She stood, not taking her eyes from the tent's warm, golden glow. Really, it was far too cold to be spending the night out here, after all.

'Sides, what was she so scared of, anyways? Little ol’ Mary Linton?

Mary, who could shoot the ear off a man ‘fore you could blink, who was kind and fierce and so much stronger’n she looked, who made Sadie feel like deciding to live was the first right choice she’d made after all those horrible years of blood and pain and misery, Mary, beautiful Mary...

Sadie threw out the rest of her coffee, tossed her cigarette into the embers of their dying campfire, made sure the horses were set, and took a deep, shaky breath ‘fore ducking into the tent.

—

Mary, she could tell right away, was wide awake, lying perfectly still on her bedroll with her back turned. She’d folded up Sadie’s old coat for a pillow, and taken off her boots and stockings and undone her hair but had left the one wool blanket they shared when it was cool folded to the side. In the soft glow of the lantern hanging from a hook above their heads, Sadie could see the light, delicate-looking skin at the nape of her neck, dusted by a scatter of dark brown beauty marks, and gulped tightly. 

On her knees so she wouldn’t bump the ceiling of the low tent, Sadie took off her hat, gloves, boots, holsters and belt and then laid down carefully on the other bedroll behind her. After a prolonged moment, she reached out and placed her hand on Mary's back. Beneath her palm, she could feel the subtle bumps of Mary's ribcage, the rapid rise and fall of her lungs as she breathed, and the soft but quick-thudding beat of her heart, hammering every bit as fast as Sadie's just then.

Slowly, Mary stirred and turned herself over, one hand propped decorously under her cheek, fine knuckles dimpling her soft skin. Sadie copied her so they was facing one another in the gloom. Mary's dark doe eyes were big, her expression anxious and hesitant yet somehow openly inviting and filled with a palpable yearning. So close, she smelled warm and sweet and tempting. All they was doing was lying there, looking at each other, and yet Sadie found she could hardly breathe, like there weren't enough air in the world, let alone their little tent, foolish as it may sound.

With her thumb, Sadie gently brushed the reddish-brown, rotten apple bruise on Mary's chin, where one of those nasty fellers'd hit her. She felt awful 'bout it. Sure, she hadn't been the one to put it there, but she'd still let it happen all the same, what with getting her fool self wrapped up with dangerous men and tangling Mary up 'long the way, despite her best intentions.

"Ah'm sorry," she whispered, her usual slurring rasp catching with emotion.

"Oh, Sadie," Mary breathed out, looking at her with such warm fondness Sadie nearly had to look away. Then she tipped her head slightly and kissed Sadie's thumb with soft lips.

Sadie colored, heart staggering in her chest. At her own forwardness, Mary's neck went pink, a terribly becoming flush inching all the way up from her collar to the bottom of her ears. Sadie swallowed thick past a throat gone bone-dry, dreadful embarrassed yet intrigued—the last person she'd laid like this with had been her husband, and before that... well, no one. She'd never imagined this for her again, let alone with another woman, and found she felt awful nervous, like a girl on her wedding night all over.

Still, when Mary tilted her shy face up, those dark lashes of hers fluttering closed and lips parting just slightly, Sadie weren't too nervous not to sway forward and kiss her.

Mary sighed 'gainst her lips and cocked her head just so, so their noses crossed just perfect to fit. Her mouth was soft and tender. It weren’t nothing like kissing a man, so far as Sadie could remember. No raspy stubble, no forcefulness, no heavy bulk. Sadie, she’d loved kissing Jakey, and him her, but he weren’t here now, and she'd do well not to think on him right then.

Their kiss last night had been a rushed, messy thing, born of frantic emotions like blind fear and overwhelming relief. This here was something else, something slow and deep and clear, something with true intent and meaning, and Sadie had to pull away after only a few seconds, breathless and halfway overwhelmed already.

"Hey now," she huffed out in a short, husky laugh as Mary chased after her, the usually meek, demure woman boldly taking her by the jaw and holding her still before kissing her sweetly but firmly with an open mouth. The soft warmth of her tongue flickered out 'gainst Sadie’s bottom lip. Sadie moaned, way down low in her throat, and at the deep, gravelly sound, Mary gave a pleased little shudder and pressed herself close.

They kissed and kissed, ‘til Sadie’s mouth was sore and achy and swollen, ‘til they was gasping fierce and hungry for air and scrabbling at each other like a coupla drunkards. Sadie was tingling all over, feeling like a lit stick of dynamite ‘bout to explode. 

Trailing her mouth downwards, she littered kisses over Mary’s poor bruised chin and the sweet curve of her jawline. Her lips met cloth when she tried to go lower, Mary’s shirt buttoned primly right up to her neck. Sadie wanted badly to touch and kiss her there, but she weren’t ‘bout to presume she could just—

Mary reached up then, and, as if reading her mind, started to hastily undo the buttons of her shirt for her, and Sadie, well—she just laid there like a fool, right flabbergasted, staring with ever-widening eyes at the strip of smooth skin being slowly revealed before her.

Flushed pink to the tips of her ears now, Mary shrugged herself out of her shirt and tossed it aside, looking almost like she couldn't quite believe what she was doing. Sadie couldn't hardly fathom it, neither. Something 'bout knowing it was shy little Mary Linton undressing for her brought a scalding red heat to Sadie's neck and face and a full, giddy feeling to her heart.

Half-naked and shivering, Mary looked briefly mortified with herself, even her thin little shoulders gone red now, appalled by her own wanton behavior, prob'ly waiting on the Lord to strike 'em down, good Christian woman she was and all, though Sadie hoped He'd wait least 'til they was done 'fore smiting 'em, if He were so obliged. She leaned forward and kissed one of those reddened shoulders, feeling the warmth of the blood pulsing just under the surface, and then brushed her calloused palm over the soft skin of Mary's slender arm, careful of her bandage.

Everywhere Sadie was whiplean and hard and weathered, Mary was deliciously soft, tender, and round. Her torso was dappled through with a constellation of beauty marks, the skin there visibly paler than her hands or face, her delicately winged collarbone flexing and bowing with every breath she took. Her lightly heaving breasts were full and plush and slightly sloping, her nipples dusky red and straining, and below, the brief jut of her ribs led down to the swooping line of her stomach, rising and falling in time with her quick, shallow gulps of air. Her bellybutton was a tiny dimple, half-hidden by the waist of her skirt.

Intrigued, Sadie reached out and brushed one of Mary’s nipples with the rough pad of her thumb and bit her lip sharply when Mary moaned and trembled at her touch. Suddenly she wanted nothing more'n to do it again, to feel Mary everywhere, kiss her all over. There was so much she ached for, she didn’t know where to start, and for a good moment or two just laid there frozen, lost.

Then, remembering the things she and her husband used to get up to, the things she'd liked done to her and the things she'd loved even more, Sadie decided to start there, and kissed her way, slow and tortuous, down the warm hollow of Mary’s bobbing throat to her heaving chest. She followed the rise of a soft breast and kissed the peak, then took a hard nipple into her mouth, rasping her tongue 'cross the stiff bud, the nipple swelling harder as she sucked gently. 

“Sadie,” Mary hissed into her hair, clutching at her shoulders with a white-knuckle grip, fingernails pinching through the cloth, sounding almost scandalized, like she couldn’t believe what Sadie was doing, despite being a woman near-twice married and to an outlaw, at that.

Rather'n answer her, Sadie latched her mouth even tighter and sucked hard and cruel now, working her tongue in a slow, tight spiral. Mary practically squealed, her back coming up off the bedroll in a seizing jerk, like a frenzied horse bucking, moaning and squirming 'til Sadie let her go with a wicked wet noise, only to nose her way over to her other breast, flicking her tongue over and around her neglected, swollen nipple there. 

“Sadie,” Mary whispered again, shaky now, voice hushed, like she were afraid someone might be listening, even all the way out here, in the middle of goddamn nowhere.

Hearing her name like that, Mary's faint western drawl gone all high and desperate and whiney, Sadie growled deep in the pit of her throat, switching back and forth ‘tween Mary’s breasts ‘til the poor woman was a sorry, gasping mess, her flushed chest prickled with sweat, long, loose threads of her thick dark hair clinging to her fine neck and shoulders, jaw hanging slack as she moaned weakly—abandoning her breasts, Sadie just had to kiss that open, begging mouth of hers again, swiping her tongue deep and firm 'gainst Mary’s, burying those wonderful pleading moans under her shuddery own.

Reaching down, she drew a daring handful of Mary’s thick skirts up, feeling her shiver as the air in the tent hit her bare calves. Her knees fell open encouragingly, and Sadie shimmied forward and slid her hips ‘tween ‘em. Heart in her throat, she ran her palm up Mary’s warm, giving thigh, and the soft, delicate hairs there. Mary gave a choked little moan and quivered madly when Sadie stroked behind her knees, and Sadie had to pause and kiss her breathless again, she was so damn beautiful, ‘fore tryna slide her hand even higher, to the damp, steaming heat above.

“Wait,” Mary whispered suddenly, and Sadie stopped at once, gasping shallowly, heart thudding wild in her ears and head spinning like she was plum-drunk on a whole crate of whiskey, feeling like she’d already gotten more than she ever believed she deserved from a woman so lovely and giving and wonderful, and it'd be just fine if Mary wanted to stop or'd changed her mind—

But then Mary was fumbling at the laces at her waist with clumsy fingers, eyes heavy and dazed and her pale chest splotched red, breasts littered with harsh purpling marks from Sadie’s mouth, lips and teeth. Sadie felt a sharp pulse, seeing 'em, knowing she'd been the one to put 'em there, and—

“Help me,” Mary gasped, and Sadie blundered and obliged, their hands bumping as they worked together to loosen the ties so Mary could take off her skirt, kicking it down to their feet along with her underthings, leaving her entirely naked on the bedroll. 

They kissed again, then, deep and rough and messy. Nothing had ever felt so good in Sadie’s arms than a naked, moaning Mary Linton, panting high and sharp right in her ear. Teeth bared, Sadie pushed on top of her with a low groan, kissing her hard enough the back of Mary’s head hit the ground. Mary whimpered and pulled at the bottom of Sadie’s shirt, yanking the hem from her trousers with desperate hands, popping a button in her mounting frustration.

“Easy now,” Sadie breathed out 'gainst her red, panting mouth, her voice on the edge of an affectionate laugh.

“Please,” begged Mary, seeming near on the verge of tears.

Sadie obliged again, and together, like they'd done with Mary's skirt, they worked Sadie out of her own clothes—shirt, trousers, underthings and socks, even pausing to undo her braid—‘til she lay just as naked and exposed as the other woman, skin prickling in the open air of the dimly glowing tent. All the while, Mary darted furtive, bashful glances at Sadie’s lean arms and rangy torso, her knotted shoulders, her hard thighs, the dark gold thatch of hair ‘tween her legs. 

“Oh, Sadie,” she gasped out at last, and reached for her. Her knee crooked and rose and settled itself back atop Sadie’s hip. Sadie took her by the jaw, tilted her face and kissed her deeply, and, 'fore she might lose her courage, slid her hand from Mary’s trembling bare hips into the dark, damp hair below. 

At the first careful touch, they both moaned quietly, Mary in pleasure, Sadie in disbelief. Beneath her fingers, Mary was hot and wet and soft as satin. Sadie rubbed at her slowly at first, marveling at the slippery feel, then searched and found her hard, swollen bump, focusing there as Mary loosed a sharp cry, her hips shuddering wildly and rutting back at her. The knee propped on Sadie’s flank rose higher. Dizzy, drunk on Mary's sweet mouth and tender skin, Sadie sunk her hand further back, into the hot, sopping give of her, and Mary sobbed and bucked back desperately, urging her deeper inside, her hands two strangling vice-clamps on Sadie's shoulders, scrabbling for purchase.

Abruptly, tears rose hot and burning in the back of Sadie’s throat. Her head was a swimming mess, like she'd tumbled off her horse. She couldn’t think, couldn't speak. All she could see was Mary. All she could hear was her quick, frantic breaths. Her nose was filled with her smell, her mouth with the taste of her skin. Their naked bodies were stuck together with sweat, dark locks of hair tangled up with frayed, straw-colored strands. Surrounding Sadie's fingers was a wet, pulsing heat that rippled with her every move, near searing. Her heart felt tight and full and fearfully exposed. 

She froze suddenly, jerking still right there with her hand 'tween Mary's legs and her mouth open 'gainst her slender neck, Mary making a confused, desperate little, “Wuh?”

“This ain’t why,” Sadie rasped. She was painful aware of the absurdity of her timing, and their dual nakedness, her kiss-swollen mouth and flushed face, the way her messy hair was sticking to her sweaty temples and clinging to the back of her neck, but she was desperate for Mary to listen, to understand. “This ain’t why Ah saved you. Y'know that, right? Ah never s'pected nothin’ fer doin’ it. Not this—not you—Ah—”

“Oh, Sadie,” Mary said breathlessly, looking like she might like to cuff her for saying something so very stupid, 'specially right then, when Mary'd been focused on something else quite entirely. "'Course I know that, you silly fool.” Her tone made it clear it'd never even entered her mind that Sadie might've expected any sort of reward for what she’d done, or could ever be such a scoundrel as to think she deserved one so precious as this.

Feeling mighty stupid and vulnerable but also awful relieved and thankful beyond measure, Sadie nodded bashfully. Though she were still flushed and trembling, Mary gave her a kind smile, cupped her face and kissed her slowly, their tongues sweeping together with a quiet slipping sound. Sadie loved it, loved the feel of Mary’s soft, wet mouth 'gainst hers, the delicate rasp of her tongue and the taste of her lips. As if in apology, her wet hand twitched anew and Mary gasped, hips twitching right back. The hot clamp 'round Sadie's fingers tightened up. Sadie bore down and then kept at it, stroking in time with the erratic sway of Mary's hips, mindful not to go too hard, though Mary's cries only seemed to be growing louder'n ever. With her other hand, she worked one of Mary's nipples in circles, swallowing down her sobbing moans with heady kisses as she squirmed beneath her.

'Fore long, Mary cries came even sharper'n before, and suddenly she seized Sadie's flexing wrist in a panicky sort of way as if to make her stop. Sadie did, more'n a bit panicked herself, thinking maybe she'd done something wrong, but then Mary went perfectly still but for her hips, thrusting hard 'gainst her fingers once or twice, eyes squeezed closed and face all screwed up, looking almost like she was in pain. Beads of sweat dotted her breasts, her heaving ribcage. Sadie wanted to lap ‘em all up with her tongue but didn’t dare move 'til she was told to.

A few seconds went by, and then Mary was sighing and relaxing back onto the bedroll, letting go of Sadie's wrist with a warm, dreamy expression of her face, like, like she—

Sadie gulped. Mary went limp, and as she caught her breath, Sadie carefully pulled her hand away, fingers sticky and slick with a woman's dew. At the sight, Mary moaned weakly and covered her face with an outflung arm, properly modest lady she was and all. Sadie didn’t resent her none for it—she understood what they’d done just now and what it meant, two women taking carnal pleasure together and what have you, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel strange ‘bout it, either. That, though, she'd think on later.

Gone a bit shy herself, she laid a tender kiss on Mary’s pointed elbow, then her soft shoulder and on up her neck. By the time she reached her glowing pink ear, Mary had lifted her arm from her face and was watching her intently, looking almost like someone expecting a scolding, as if she'd been caught doing something that might get her in a heap of trouble. Sadie, she just smiled and kissed her on the mouth, and by the time she pulled away, Mary didn’t seem so scared as before. Her eyes had gone all warm and sappy, like they usually did when she looked at Sadie these days, and knowing now what it meant, Sadie felt her chest go tight with elation. 

"Did Ah hurt you?” Sadie felt she needed to ask. Mary’s blush returned anew and she shook her head wordlessly. "Good," said Sadie, relieved. Last thing she'd ever want to do was hurt Mary, either on purpose or by accident, 'specially like this.

The tent felt warm now from the heat bouncing 'tween the two of 'em, all wrapped up in each other, but Sadie still rose up on one elbow, hunting for the blanket. Mary always got cold at night once she fell asleep, and she'd be damned if—

A cool palm landed on Sadie’s bare side, a soft, uncalloused thumb tracing the skin just under her breast. Sadie inhaled sharply and had to fight not to jump like a skittery horse. She looked down to find Mary staring straight at her naked chest, her proper-bred meekness from before nowhere to be found. “Y… Y’don’t hafta do nothin’ y’don’ wan' to—” Sadie started hastily.

With great deliberation, Mary leaned forward and kissed Sadie’s flapping chin, silencing her with a small "erp." Her mouth was warm and gentle as it worked its way up the hard line of her jaw to her earlobe, and then downwards, over the flushed side of her neck to her stark collarbones. By the time she reached her chest, Sadie had slumped helplessly backwards, sprawling herself on the bedroll with quivering limbs. She was already so far gone that at the first shaky touch to her breasts, her hips jolted and she had to force ‘em still with effort. Mary made a pleased sound at that, almost like a fond laugh, and then brushed Sadie’s nipples with a slow pass of her sinfully soft palms ‘fore taking one, then the other into the hot clasp of her mouth in turn, sucking each painful slow, the scatter of her loose hair trailing down over Sadie's bare stomach and sides, tickling her faintly.

Sadie squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue but couldn’t stop herself from trembling fiercely. These were the places only her husband had ever touched and kissed, and even then, it'd been years since last they'd made love. After everything she'd lived through, those awful times and all the men she killed, the sins she'd committed, what'd she gone and done for her to ever deserve something so wonderful as this?

When Mary’s hand lowered down past her flat, flexing belly and cupped at the heat of her, Sadie didn’t jump, just whimpered pitifully and spread her legs shamefully wide. She heard Mary’s breath catch, then felt her slender fingers part through her aching slickness, sliding over and around her lower lips ‘til her hand was good and soaked and Sadie was shaking like a leaf. She opened her eyes, desperate to see Mary's face then. Mary was gazing downwards, looking mighty unsure of herself, but also curious and keenly determined, and Sadie, she couldn't help but admire her for that bold, shaky courage, quick-forged and new. 

"Fuck," she rasped under her breath, sure Mary heard the ragged curse but unable to swallow it back. She was awful close. Mary took pity on her, then, and kissed her soft and gentle on the mouth while below, her clever fingers found Sadie’s sweet spot and rubbed her over and over 'til her body clenched like a fist and the white-hot limb-numbing pleasure of a climax months, hell, maybe even years in the making washed the world away.

Everything went soft and murky for a time. Sadie waited ‘til her hands and feet had stopped their fierce tingling 'fore reaching out blindly and taking Mary into her arms. They were both still gasping for air, their bodies slick and sticky with sweat, the air in the tent gone thick and stuffy with their heady scents, the lantern burned down to nearly nothing at all. Somehow, even after all that, it still felt like Sadie couldn’t get close enough to the other woman, not at all. Her heart thumped painfully, thinking on what they'd done, happy it'd happened but worried what it might mean, and scared of all the ways it could go wrong.

But Mary, she hadn't pulled away yet, hadn't rebuffed the rain of her sleepy, tired kisses, so Sadie took what strength she could in that, and in the solid feel of her in her arms just then.

Finally, her exhaustion began to seep in, weighing down her limbs with a heaviness she couldn’t shake. Her eyelids fluttered and her head started to bob. 'Fore she might collapse, she groped about and at last caught the edge of the folded blanket, pulling it  up and over 'em, tucking Mary in good and tight so she'd be warm. There were still so many things she wanted to tell her—precious, dangerous things—but already she could see Mary was nodding off, too. Sadie gave her one last brief kiss, and felt Mary's lips twitch 'gainst hers in a dreamy smile.

Tomorrow, they'd face this—them, and what they'd become to each other and how the rest of the big, crowded, fearful world might react—but for now, that big world had shrunk down to their tiny tent, and the two of ‘em wrapped up in each other so tight Sadie didn’t think they’d ever let go. She fell asleep with her nose tucked into the hair by Mary's ear, listening to the soft sounds of her breathing and the distant yip of a lone coyote making its way home.

—

When Sadie woke, the sun was just coming up, turning the side of their canvas tent a soft rose color. Mary was curled 'gainst her chest, deeply asleep. Sadie watched her for a time, feeling like some damn lovesick fool, stupidly enchanted by her every breath and twitch, the thick splay of dark curls falling 'cross her beauty-marked neck, the wide, delicate fan of her eyelashes, the plush pink curve of her slightly open mouth. Christ, she was beautiful. Sadie weren't sure she'd ever get tired of the sight of her.

'Fore long, Mary woke with a quiet inhale. When she saw Sadie watching her, she grew instantly bashful, prob'ly thinking on what they'd gotten up to last night, though not for a moment did her eyes go hard and cold with shame or guilt or resentment. Seeing that, a hidden part of Sadie's heart she'd held back and kept safe 'til now softened and at last came free.

"Mornin'," she rasped, throat still half-clogged with sleep and a powerful, brimming affection.

Cheeks pink, Mary smiled up at her and blinked drowsily. "I was dreamin'," she murmured, rubbing at her face with one of those soft white palms of hers.

"Oh?" said Sadie, propping her head up on her hand and leaning on her elbow, grinning down at the other woman playfully. “A good dream, Ah hope?”

Mary smiled again, wider this time, and pressed her nose to Sadie’s lean shoulder, a puff of warm air hitting her skin as she gave a soft laugh. “A silly one, but yes," she admitted shyly. "It was good.” Sadie's breath caught as she turned and looked endearingly up at her, her eyes dark and warm and happy. “The best.”

Then, not shyly at all, Mary reached up and took a handful of frayed, straw-colored hair at the back of Sadie's neck and pulled her down for a slow, muzzy morning kiss, her lips soft and eager and impatient.

Eventually they left the tent and set to making themselves a rather late breakfast, the horses nosing impatiently forward to be fed, the sun already climbing towards noon. Afterwards, they broke down camp, though Sadie found it difficult to focus, distracted with watching Mary do this or that or the other, charmed by even something so mundane as her folding a blanket or packing up a saddlebag, and nearly dropped her fry pan on her foot in her carelessness. She laughed at herself 'til she noticed Mary doing the same, the two of 'em shooting quick, furtive glances at one another 'cross the campsite. Every time their eyes would meet, they’d freeze a moment and move shyly on, or share a small, secret grin 'tween 'em, or Sadie would wink and smirk and Mary would look hastily away, color sitting high in her cheeks and lips caught in a giddy little smile of her own.

Christ, she loved her, Sadie thought, and then felt herself stagger at the very idea that she were capable of such a thing. Before Mary, something so tender and delicate as love couldn't have existed for Sadie, not after what she'd gone through, what she'd survived. But the Sadie here and now, darting warm looks with a new lover, body still sore and aching from the touches they'd shared, she remembered what it'd felt like, those full, happy days with Jakey in their mountain cabin, the fierce flutters in her chest and belly every time she saw 'im, the same ones she were feeling now when she looked at Mary. This here was a woman Sadie might like to try and spend the rest of her days with, and play her harmonica for on quiet nights 'round the fire. Someone she could trust to watch her back and protect her just as fierce as Sadie did them. Not a woman to be kept, or hidden, but a woman to stand by her side and walk with her, hand in hand.

“Mary," she asked in a sudden, breathy whisper, just 'fore putting her boot in Hera's stirrup, "will you ride with me?”

Doing up Francine's bridle, Mary paused and turned to face her, seeming to understand the importance of the question, carefully phrased. That it was more'n just Sadie asking her to trot 'long with her on horseback as they wandered from place to place 'cross the states—it was Sadie, asking Mary to stay by her side for as long as she liked, to keep on with her toward whatever might come next, and feed the bloom of this new love they shared to see how it might grow into something lovely and strong and grand. It was making a life together, or trying to, as best they could, them two lost souls who'd found each other, lost in a graveyard of sorrow, and made their way out with hands tightly clasped. 

“I'd go anywhere with you, Sadie Adler,” Mary said in a voice steady and true, and well... that was just 'bout all Sadie'd ever needed to hear, plain and simple.

“Alrigh', then,” she said gruffly, her usual husk gone deep and blurry, and turned 'round to fiddle with Hera's saddle, coughing and blinking hard and fast to clear away the grateful tears suddenly filling her eyes and crawling up her throat. If Mary noticed her struggle for composure, she didn’t mention it, just set to fastening Francine's reins up good and proper.

When it was time, they mounted their horses. Tipping her hat back, Sadie glanced beside her and found Mary waiting patiently with a smile, a look of powerful affection and trust on her face. She nodded, Sadie nodded back, and together, they heeled their horses forward, towards the road and whatever lay beyond.