The Lady and the Sheriff

The Lady

      The shutters to the saloon swung inwards. A group of grimy men playing cards in a corner of the smoke filled room looked up. A figure stood silhouetted in the entrance against the fire of the setting sun. Dust specks swirled around his long overcoat as he walked towards the bar. His boots made soft thump thump noises against the creaky floorboards. As the figure came closer the men realized that it was in fact a woman wearing a dress underneath the coat. She tossed her curly blonde hair over one shoulder as she seated herself at the bar.

      "One bourbon and a shot of whiskey, please," she said in a soft voice.

      The barman scowled at her. "This ain't no place for a girl. Go home."

      He crossed his fat arms over his beer gut to show he was serious.

      The girl gave no indication that she heard. She simply tipped her hat back on her head and smiled.

      "I think it would be best if you gave me what I wanted, mister."

      The barman leered at her. "And why is that, Missy? Are you going to run to daddy if I don't?"

      He roared with laughter and the card-playing men laughed with him.

      The girl's eyes hardened then softened so quickly that one would think they imagined it. She reached into her coat and drew out a few copper coins.

      "I can pay," she said in that soft voice.

      The barman scowled again. "Go home, Missy, otherwise I'm calling the sheriff."

      She tipped her head to the side. "Now, why would you do that?" she asked, cornflower-blue eyes widening. "I'm just an honest civilian lookin' for a drink."

      "I'm serious," said the barman.

      At that moment the doors swung open again.

      The barman smiled triumphantly. "And there he is, our fine sherrif."

      The girl didn't turn around until the sheriff came into view and slid onto the stool next the her.

      His brown hair was mostly hidden by a ten gallon hat. On his feet were dusty brown boots with silver spurs. Pinned to his white shirt that looked like it had seen better days was a telltale silver sheriff star.

      "Gimmie a pint of whatever your strongest is, Billy," said the sheriff. He wiped his brow with a sleeve. "Wohoo! It sure is a scorcher out."

      Billy pursed his lips and looked pointedly at the girl. The sheriff glanced beside him and did a double take.

      "Wha-? What are you doing here?" He demanded. "Girls aint allowed in here."

      The girl smiled and crossed one leg over another. "I was just here lookin' for a drink, Sheriff." Her smile was both wicked and sexy.

      "Now look here, girly," said the sheriff sternly. "I'm not gonna ask you again."

      The girl sat back on her stool and slowly removed her over coat and placed it on the counter. Her dress clung to her torso and the low neck revealed the soft white swells of her breasts. The sheriff stared.

      The girl leaned forward. "Now then, Sheriff. You are not kicking me out, are you?"

      He glanced at her then back down at her breasts and licked his lips.

     "Well-"

      "I mean," she continued in that soft, seductive voice, "can't a lady just enjoy a drink nowadays."

      Her small hand closed over the sheriff's own weathered one. The sheriff started and looked at her face. She looked right back at him with her piercing blue eyes.

      The sheriff licked his lips again.

      The lady ran her other hand up his chest and started to drew small circles with her finger. She looked at him the whole time.

      The sheriff was sweating visibly now. "Well for a s-s-special girl like you I guess.." He stopped stuttering as the girl leaned in closer and drew her index finger over his stubble.

      "So kind of you, Sheriff," she murmured into his ear. Her warm breath tickled his skin and the sheriff quickly covered his lap with his hands. He was still staring at her breasts.

      The girl turned back to Billy. "A bourbon, please."

      The barman quickly looked up at her face and set a glass down in front of her. He reached under the counter and poured her a glass of amber-coloured liquid, all the while staring at her chest.

      She drank the whole glass, seemingly oblivious to all the men gawking at her. More then a few times she bumped her leg against the sheriff's. When she was done she got up and draped her coat over one arm.

      She leaned down to the sheriff, giving him a full view of her cleavage. "You know, Sheriff,' she said softly, " I'm not one to let favours go unrewarded. So if you ever need me to, ah, return the favour, I'll be down the road at the Blue Saddle Inn in room 6."

      She winked at him then walked out the bar. She was barely out the door when she looked behind her. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. The sheriff was right behind her.

      She made her way into her room. She tossed her coat over the chair and sat on the bed and waited. Not a minute later the door burst open. The sheriff strode in and shut the door with his heel. He pushed the girl back onto the bed and grinned.

      "Hey girly," he said.

      He started kissing her neck ferociously.

      "Oh, Sheriff," the girl moaned. "Not so quick. I need you to know somethin' first."

      "And what's that, girly?" he asked between kisses.

      "Don't ever call me girly."

      The sheriff stopped his kissing, surprised. There was a hard edge in her voice that wasn't there before.

      He looked up and into the lady's eyes. There was a fire in them that dulled the brilliant blue.

      She sat up and leaned close to him. "I ain't no girl. I'm a lady."

      The lady rolled off the bed and drew something from her leg in one smooth motion. The sheriff barely had time to register the gun before she pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang and a puff of smoke emitted from the mouth of the pistol. The sheriff dropped dead.

      She coolly slipped her coat over her shoulders and tucked the gun back into her ankle holster. She tossed her bag over her shoulder, straightened her hat, and walked out the door. 

      The innkeeper came running, huffing and puffing. "What was that noise?" he gasped. "You know I don't allow no shooting in my inn."

      The lady blinked at him. "I'm sorry, Mister," she said softly. "The sheriff was a bit drunk and he tried to show off his shot by shooting a knot in the wall."

      The innkeeper grimaced and stomped downstairs, muttering about ruined decor and bullet holes. The lady smiled and trooped after him.  

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

      Two days later, the infamous bank robber Clyde Chestnut Barrow was broken out of jail. The lock wasn't tampered with, but on the sheriff's desk was his missing ring of keys along with a piece of paper signed "Bonnie" with a lipstick kiss.

      Billy's Horseshoe Saloon was set on fire the same day by a mysterious masked lady.      

      One week later, eight different banks were robbed. Those who survived claimed that they had been robbed by a pair of lovers, a man and a lady.