An Untold Story

Long Cloaked Riders

As a woman in the upcoming Industrial Age, you feel broken, you feel like there's nothing or no one to change your feelings. You work for yourself and rely on yourself to stay alive. Your opinion as a woman was no longer needed. We were seen as property and taken advantage of. That is, if we were with the wrong people.

We as women worked hard for a dollar or two a day to make ourselves feel whole. At the early hours of seven a.m., I was jerken awake from yet another nightmare - a mysterious gang riding into town and one of them attempting to take advantage of me - I stretched my arms vertically as my loosely tied auburn hair fell over my shoulders. I yawned as I steadily stood to my feet and walked to my dresser, fetching the light blue dress I wore during the day. I picked it up from the head of the chair and slipped it over my head after I put on my corset. I pinned my hair into a neat bun and applied simple cosmetics. The light blue dress flattered my skin tone as I gave myself one last examination before I walked through my bedroom door and out into the saloon's second floor.

The saloon was empty as usual in the early morning hours, the Arizona morning breeze gently made its way through the cracked windows and saloon doors, pushing stray leaves and dust across the wooden floor. I slowly made my way down the hollow wooden staircase, preparing myself to do my morning routine. I grabbed the hand broom from behind the bar and swept the tables clean of empty peanut shells and cigarette butts, grabbing a couple of empty shot glasses in between.

I wiped small sweat beads from my forehead as I admired my early morning work.

-"Good morning, beautiful." said John, the bartender of the saloon.

-"Good morning, how are you?" I smiled as I walked towards him.

He reached for my hand as he placed a friendly kiss on my knuckles. A gentleman he is.

-"I'm well this morning, I'm just not prepared for this day, rumor has it that it's supposed to be unbearable heat today." John sighed, almost ruining my wonderful mood.

I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes at him, with him flashing a handsome smile in reply. I breathed heavily from the increasing pressure of my corset and made my way to the front porch of the saloon, gazing at the fully erected sun from the horizon. The slow Tombstone breeze swept through the quiet town, blowing loose pieces of hair in my face.

My daze was broken as I heard the sounds of horse hooves, rapidly shaking the ground as their hooves packed the loose dirt deeper into the Earth. My head shot to the left to see who this could be. It reminded me of my dream - the mysterious cowboys riding into town on dark horses - which in this case, these men were. My eyes widened and I quickly made my way back into the saloon, hoping that I wouldn't have to serve them their drinks. With my luck, that did happen.

Each one jumped down from their horses, wrapping the reins around the hitching post once. They each adjusted their clothing and hats before walking into the saloon like a blaze of glory.

-"Hello friends." John smiled as he was wiping the insides of dirty shot glasses.

The tall dark man who leaded the pair tipped his hat at him. Men like this came through town often, but they weren't as interesting as these men. Their dark presences made the saloon even more quiet, igniting small fear in the pit of my stomach. I gulped hardly and flashed them a faint and welcoming smile. To what I had assumed to have been the leader of this group, he was handsome, just like the pair behind him, but something about him stood out like a sore thumb.

He had piercing dark blue eyes, almost hazel, with his black hair peeking out from the sides as the rest was covered by his hat. He rested his over-worked hands on his pistol that sat snuggly in his holster on his thick, leather belt.