Outlaws - An American Youth - [Charles Smith x OC]

Chapter 1 - My Young Years

"Another Girl "

Those were the words of my father on this lovely day of April 1877 I was born. I was his fifth, if we forget about the ones who didn't survived. The poor man had only one desire: have a son. After the war, he married a young girl from a neighboring ranch and installed her on his family land. Eleven years of marriage, and almost as many pregnancies, didn't offer him what he hoped for.

When my little sister Angeline was born two years after me, he took a decision. My mother was already 35 and little hope was left. He looked at each of his daughters and picked me up. He was to educate me as his son, passing on everything he would have done with a boy. My mother let him do. Probably because she felt guilty. And after all, she already had five beautiful girls to take care of.

Growing up, this choice turned out to be the right one. Although I was pretty - I can say it now that I'm old - my sisters had inherited breathtaking beauty from my mother. In town, people ended up nicknamed me the Ugly Grey Sister. I tried to ignore them, although it remained ingrained in me for many years. I tried to console myself: it was probably due to my male clothes and the overflowing energy that inhabited me, contrasting with the charming calm that my sisters developed.

Hunting, working in the field and managing the cattle, I learned everything. By the age of 6, my father gave me a rifle and made me practice countless hours. From time to time, my mother managed to steal me away for a few hours. She tried to teach me sewing and embroidery, still hoping I would need it someday. But all of this was in vain, I wasn't gift with patience and would rather run in the fields. She was more successful with the piano, for which I gained certain skills. My father let her do. He loved music and would often play guitar to us.

Besides my education, we led the same simple life as millions of other Americans. After a week of hard work, our family would go to mass. For this holy moment, my mother would make me put a dress on, to present myself before the Lord as He made me, a girl. Then we would all get into my father's cart to travel the few miles that separated us from the city.

Valentine, in New Hanover, was pretty similar to any Midwest city. A central street hosted various shops. There were no brick buildings, as it was often the case at the time. We were building cities and abandoning them without more ceremony, to go further west, further north. Further, always further, where it seemed life would be sweeter, even if it was rarely the case.

The Valentine inhabitants were for the most part brave workers. But people came from all over the state to trade in cattle. Therefore, we would meet all kinds of character walking through the muddy and dusty streets. Poorly dressed cowboys, hucksters, and other groups of travelers with relative honesty.

---

Life went on calmly, with the seasons, and I must say that my childhood was quite happy. Oh sure, I've experienced sadness. At nine, I lost my mother. Winter had been harsh, and she quickly succumbed to one of those diseases we didn't even have a name for at the time.

As the eldest, Helen took care of the family. It has been a heartbreak for all of us to see her leaving after her wedding. Her jovial character gave way to the inflexibility of my sister Charlotte. She was a beautiful woman, gentle but firm, for whom morality was one of the fundamental pillars of life. She was always dressed impeccably, her bun was never messy, even after the most physical tasks. She fulfilled her role as a pastor's wife wonderfully. Then it was Alice and Rose's turn to get married. Soon, only three of us were left in the house. Me, my father, and Angeline.

Years had passed and I was soon to reach my 22nd spring. 1899, the year everything was going to change.

---

My father had been dead for a few months when a gang arrived in the region. After a period of mourning, I started to frequent the city again. Whenever I had the opportunity, I would leave the house to escape the lamentation of my younger sister. I liked her, but we weren't very close. Her capricious nature had been reinforced by being the spoiled youngest.

Before my father died, it was decided she would marry the son of an honest, local family. Being the youngest himself, he would not inherit land, so he would come to settle with us. I was no boy, and no one believed that a man would ever want to marry me. Therefore, the farm would return to their offspring.

My sister was languishing. She wanted to become a married woman, with the social position it would bring her. She would no longer be treated as a child and would have a say. My father, then I, controlled everything. She hoped that the arrival of a man in the house, whom she could control as she pleased, would reduce my power over her. But mourning had pushed back her plans. So she sighed, from dawn to dusk, on the sadness of the mourning clothes, on the wedding preparations that could not move forward, on the rain, on the good weather...

I escaped, either to hunt or to go to Valentine's saloon. I had always been granted more freedom than other young women, and my father let me go to these places usually considered to be only for male. But I limited my visits, and monitored my conduct there, as I was afraid he would take  that right away from me. Although saddened to lose him, this new freedom intoxicated me. 

When before, I only went occasionally to the little bar nearby, now I was frequenting assiduously the big saloon on the main street. I drank, I played poker and I gave my opinion. Oh, I was putting up barriers of course. My male clothes didn't give me any physical strength, I was unlikely to win if I pissed off someone.

The community accepted my new way of life. My father had always been respected, I continued to go piously to mass and helped those of my neighbors who needed it. The women murmured about me but remained pretty kind. Globally, everyone closed their eyes on this eccentricity introduced by my father almost twenty years before.

The most surprised were travelers and occasional visitors. Some were giving their opinions, but I never really had a problem before this band came to town. It was not the first time that one of them had settled around there. If the smell of cattle flooded the area, money had none. Especially when it was easy one.

These newcomers soon inquired about me. When they learned that I was running the ranch alone, I became the target to loot. They had no idea who they were dealing with ...

---

There is the first chapter. Our favorite band isn't here yet but will appear in the next one. I wanted to introduce Anna and give you some of her story. Next chapter will be more dynamic, with dialogue and some action!

English isn't my mother tongue, I would appreciate some help to improve myself, maybe a beta-reader. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this and will come back. Don't hesitate to comment, like, share!