Queen of the Cowboys

Interlude

Okala looked like they would rather chew off their own arm than escort Buchanan to a tent, but they managed to complete the task without any amputated limbs. As on the ride to Burnshire's camp, the conversation to the tent was sparse, regardless of how many questions Buchanan asked about Burnshire, her resources, the number of men under her, any helpful bit of information that would make his job of bringing her in easier.

"Could you answer just one question?" Buchanan asked when they stopped outside a nondescript tent toward the outer ring of the camp. Okala raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Buchanan took that as a yes. "Where are we going tomorrow in such a rush?"

"North." Okala turned on their heel and left Buchanan to his new home.

When he opened the flap, Buchanan saw the tent was occupied only by a blanket and a small canteen of water. He deposited the entirety of his possessions on the floor, doubling the number of items in the room. His provisions, maps, and journal, along with smaller assorted trinkets, were still in his saddlebags, which apparently now belonged to Burnshire. From what he was able to deduce, the only queenly thing about the Queen of the West was that she lived lavishly at the expense of others, taking whatever she wanted with no repercussions. The United States fought a war to rid itself of royalty, and here she was making a mockery of that history. 

He will have to remind her what happens to monarchs in America.

The only other information Buchanan was able to glean from Okala was that they are her second in command and that the gang's growth had been exponential. While interesting, it was not necessarily new information. Reports of a vigilante woman in the emerging west were few and far between five or so years ago. His mother paid more attention to the newspapers than him, but even he noticed when those individual hits turned into group jobs. That was her main argument against him traveling out here in the first place, but he refused to listen. God had smiled upon him and his family before, the chances were good that He would smile upon him again.

Though his mind was racing, sitting down gave the exhaustion from the day's events a chance to catch up with him. He scarcely had time to fold his coat into a pillow before he drifted off into a fitful sleep, dreaming of crowns, bullets, and a wide-open sky.