His Bounty

chapter seven: valentine

The road stretched ahead of me, the moonlight guiding my steps as I moved farther away from the saloon. The chaos had faded into the night, leaving only the quiet whisper of wind and the distant sounds of wildlife. The town of Valentine lay just a few miles ahead, and the idea of slipping into a hotel there—where I could disappear into the crowded streets and noisy saloons—felt like the right move.

I quickened my pace, my boots kicking up dust as I navigated the well-worn road. I needed a plan, a place to think without looking over my shoulder every second. Maybe I could lay low at the hotel, get a room.

By the time I reached Valentine, the town was alive with its usual nighttime buzz. Horses clopped along the dirt roads, men called to each other as they staggered between the saloon and the general store, and the hotel loomed just beyond the main street, its lights flickering in the darkness. The air was thick with the smell of tobacco, whiskey, and the unmistakable scent of a place that had seen too many outlaws pass through.

I slipped through the crowd, keeping my head low, my hair falling in front of my face as a makeshift disguise. My heart raced as I approached the hotel, pushing open the heavy wooden door and stepping inside.

The lobby was dimly lit, and the old man behind the desk barely glanced up as I entered, his eyes half-closed in the warm glow of the oil lamps. Perfect. He wouldn't ask questions.

I walked up to the counter, my voice low. "Room for the night."

"Top floor. Keep it quiet."

I nodded, pocketing the key and heading up the stairs. My legs felt heavy, and the adrenaline that had been pushing me forward began to wear off, leaving exhaustion in its place. By the time I reached my room, I was ready to collapse.

The door creaked as I pushed it open, the small room beyond barely furnished. A bed, a table, and a window that overlooked the street below. I crossed the room and peered out, making sure nobody had followed me, but the street was empty.

I shut the curtains and leaned back against the wall, finally letting out the breath I'd been holding. Safe, for now.

I crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, my thoughts swirling. The pull between us was undeniable, but I couldn't let it distract me.

Still, something had changed. I could feel it, deep in my bones. He had let me go tonight, and that wasn't a mistake. There was something more at play here, something I hadn't yet figured out.

I glanced at the window again. I needed to stay a step ahead of him. But how long could I keep running before he finally caught up? And more importantly—did I want him to?

I stood and crossed the room again, my hand lingering on the curtain as I peered out into the dark street below. Valentine might give me some breathing room for now, but it wouldn't last.

I couldn't stay hidden forever.

—

The next morning, I woke to the soft creak of wood and the distant sound of hooves clopping along the dirt road outside the window. Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long golden streaks across the hotel room. For a moment, I lay there, the haze of sleep making it easy to forget where I was or why my heart beat so fast.

But as soon as I blinked away the fog, the weight of everything rushed back. Arthur.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cold wooden floor biting against my bare feet. I stood slowly, stretching out the stiffness from the night spent on edge. The faint smell of smoke and whiskey still clung to the air from the saloon across.

Crossing the room, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My face was drawn, the dark circles under my eyes, my hair tangled and framed my face in a way that made me look even more feral than I felt. I ran a hand through it, trying to tame the mess, but it was no use.

Hunters are still out there, and if I stayed in this town for too long, they'd find me. I knew that much for certain. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, urging me to move, to get ready before anyone came looking.

I walked to the window, pushing the curtain aside just enough to peer out into the street. Valentine was already awake—farmers unloading wagons, a couple of men leading horses toward the stables, a group of children running past, kicking up dust. It all looked so normal, so peaceful.

Pulling back, I let the curtain fall closed and turned my attention to my small bag of belongings. There wasn't much—just a few essentials I had grabbed in my haste to leave the last town behind. I rummaged through it, pulling out a clean shirt and trousers. The fabric felt rough against my skin as I changed, the familiarity of the routine grounding me.

Once I was dressed, I strapped on my boots, their leather worn from miles of running. I stood in the center of the room, staring at the door. Where would I go? Every road felt like a trap, every town a dead end. And Arthur, he  was relentless.

No matter how many times I slipped through his fingers, he always found a way to close in on me again. It was only a matter of time before he caught up.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I froze, my hand instinctively moving to the knife strapped to my thigh. My pulse quickened, and for a split second, I was sure it was Arthur on the other side of that door, finally ready to take me in.

But when the knock came again, it was lighter—hesitant. Not the sound of a hunter.

I stepped cautiously toward the door, keeping my hand on the knife. "Who is it?"

"Just me, miss," came a gruff voice from the other side. "Got your breakfast, if you're wanting it."

The tension in my shoulders eased slightly. Just the hotel worker.  "Leave it outside,"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall. I waited another minute before I moved, opening the door just enough to peek outside. A small tray sat on the floor, a plate of eggs and bread next to a tin of coffee. Basic, but more than I'd had in days. I grabbed the tray quickly, closing the door behind me before setting it on the small table by the window.

I took a seat, glancing out the window again as I tore into the bread. My eyes scanned the street below, searching for any sign of hunters.

Finishing the last of the coffee, I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. I took one last look around the room—there was nothing left to do here. The weight of the next few hours hung heavily on me, a constant reminder that I couldn't stop, couldn't rest.

With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. I moved quickly, not wanting to draw attention. As I made my way down the narrow stairs and into the lobby, I kept my head down, hoping to slip out unnoticed.

The doors creaked as I pushed them open, the morning sun blinding for a moment as I stepped outside. The cool air hit me, sharp and refreshing, a stark contrast to the warm, musty interior of the hotel.

I paused on the porch, scanning the street one last time. The town was busy now, people bustling about their daily business.

I turned away from the street and headed for the stables. Valentine had served its purpose, but it was no longer safe.