When the West was Wild! (Closed)

[Ambrosia_64]

Lisabeth lost interest in destroying the twig house with pebbles, knocking it over with a flick of her fingers. She wasn't sure why she was bothering Sam. She liked him, but it was also kind of funny. He was a steady sort of fella, and she liked to rock the boat so to speak-the way he had looked after the kiss, his reaction to the hug-all surprisingly genuine, little glimpses past his guard.

And how he had been when she was gonna lock him up, how mad-at himself, at her, at the world. Riff and Raff-hilarious. She damn near laughed all day.

She wondered, not for the first time, about him. What was Sam like?

Lisabeth intended to find out, eventually. In the meantime, while she thought that over and sorta scheming-it was fun to ruffle him. Not mean, cause she was biding her time-but fun all the same.

"Such a gentleman all the time-" Was she teasing him? It sounded like it, but also fond, amused. "But you being cold just wouldn't do either!" She declared, suddenly pushing hard off the ground with her hands, a knee coming up and her boot digging into the sand to support the sudden pop to her feet, a hand on her hip and the other to her chin to "think" of a solution to this out of nowhere cold problem. "I mean, you have to consider yer health."

One might wonder if Lisabeth ever tolerated boredom. Lisabeth entertaining herself probably accounted for eighty percent of her antics. The other twenty percent was probably her poor impulse control. Still, she was nice to be around, oddly. Even if she was always playing some game or another.

"I think we'll just have to compromise." She picked up her own blanket and gave it a shake-coming around the fire to lay it across him over the top of his. Wait, what? That didn't make any sense-then she picked up the corner and plopped down beside him under it, scooting down to also lean against the Saddle, arms crossed over the top of the blanket across her stomach.

"There." She said, as if a hard day's work had just been completed, rather than some puzzling shuffling around of blankets and talk of weather.

 

[Armphid]

Sam felt a rueful amusement as she went on about his being a gentleman and then him getting cold. She was going somewhere with this but damned if he could see where. "The usual threats t' my health are bullets an' knives, I'll take a bit o' cold just fine."

She ignored that statement, making a show of pondering. He couldn't help but smile, even as he felt a sudden unease. That vixen was planning something. Something that'd try to get his goat, no doubt. Didn't she ever quit?

Already knew the answer to that one.

"Can't compromise with the weather, Miss Green, I-what are-" He blinked as she put her blanket part way on him. What the hell? She needed it more than he did! What was she-

His head snapped off for a full second when she slipped under the blanket with him and nudged over to rest her head on his saddle as well. His face was momentarily blank with surprise and then a rush of emotions whirled over it; shock, embarrassment, appreciation, uncertainty, all before he managed to settle on mildly stunned. "I...Ah, you...ahem."

She was warm, all right. And so small next to him. They weren't quite touching but almost; had to be for her to rest her head on the saddle too, it wasn't that big. She was so close. So pretty and sweet and sassy and vexing and tormenting and, damn it, where as this train of thought even going?

Sam cleared his throat again, nodding slowly. "I, uh, well. That would seem to...address certain...concerns. You, uh, sure you'll be comfortable, Miss Green? And, well, I mean, I wouldn't want to...impugn yer reputation should anyone come along." Now that was a dog's egg of a reason, Sam.

"Not that I'm complaining, mind." He could put an arm around her so easy right now...except that she was the kind who liked other ladies. He had to respect that. But that kiss...Lord, that kiss. But now this...and it didn't seem to be like that. Maybe...he was just such a solid "friend" that she didn't see things that way?

Tarnation, he'd never get to sleep like this. Not that he'd mind if she stayed either. Once again, Lisabeth Green was proving to be the most confusing person he'd ever dealt with.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

It was very hard not to grin at his reaction-Lisabeth unable to fully repress the mischevious curve of her lips, but at least managing to avoid the cat eating canary grin she was smiling internally. "I'm a great problem solver." Lisabeth agreed over his "certain concerns" bit of talk-turning her head to look at him for the rest of it, a laughing noise in her throat. She turned on her side to face him fully as he said he didn't mind, her head off the saddle now and propped on her arm and elbow.

"Pretty sure the only reputation at risk here is yours, Sam. Buuuut if a priest or a nun happens by, suppose you can skitter back across the fire." She winked at him, and then there was that grin, unable to supress her amusement any longer.

Boy, he was funny.

He was also warm, and all that tired was catching up to her. She didn't really want to sleep, still nervous about being followed-but there was slim chance of Lydia-or anyone else-being that close on their tail. She hoped.

She had just been sitting there looking at him for a long, idle minute, she realized. Oops. She dropped her head on her arm, curling up slightly next to him. "Tell me about something." She said, her act mostly over and forgotten about, her voice a tad softer. It'd been funny, but maybe she mostly wanted to be close to him. Safe-ish. "Please?" Sleepy.

 

[Armphid]

He gave her a sour look at her comment about "skittering to the other side of the fire" and shook his head. That brat! That...oooh! Her smug little smile was intensely irritating and adorable all at once. He wasn't sure if he wanted to smack her bottom or kiss her. Might be both.

Sam harumphed and settled back down, "Suit herself then, Miss Green." She didn't answer, which struck him as odd. He glanced over to see her staring at him. He blinked and started to feel a mite odd. Was there something on his face? What was she looking at?

Then she seemed to shake herself and settled down, curling up a bit. Sam gulped, his face flushed. He thought she was asleep but then she made her sweet little plea. Damn. How was he supposed to stay annoyed when she was so cute? After a moment, he nodded. "All right, Miss Green, if you fancy a yarn."

Sam thought a moment. "First bounty I went after, fella by the name of Clayton Forrester, wanted for rustlin' and horse thieving. Didn't have any lawmen or other hunters after 'im 'cause he went after the stock of black and converted Indians. Most "decent" folk didn't want them as neighbors so they didn't mind him stealing from them. Sometimes, Miss Green, I don't think much o' most folk; they can be awful mean and awful petty. Anyway. I went looking for him, found plenty of folks willing to talk. Heard he met a certain buyer at a canyon up near Deadwood, so I lit up.that way."

He chuckled, "I get up there and turns out that Clayton had stiffed his buyer. So I sneak up there only to see him being whooped up on by these three big palookas. Coulda tried to fight 'em. Coulda waited fer them to kill him an' take his carcass back but he was wanted alive. So I rode in open and called out a "howdy do" with my hands up." He grinned, "I rode on up and explained what was waiting for Clayton if I brought him in and they handed him right over. They was laughing as I rode off him hog tied on the back of Chet there."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Sam was a good person. She’d known that already, but he wasn’t just good, he was equal. People just being people, ‘n all. It was nice he thought that way. She did too, bein’ a woman out in the west doing men things and all.

She bet he woulda never given her trouble, had he been in her gang. Which would have been good, cause he wasn't scared of her and she probably couldn't have made him so. Good thing she had never taken any Sam's for recruits. Mutiny on her hands.

He chuckled and she smiled, both at the sound and in anticipation of an apparent funny part coming up. Sounded like this Clayton wasn’t real smart. “Just like that?” She said about his ‘howdy do’, lifting her head to see him grinning. Ha, and then they’d just given him up! Lisabeth giggled, imagining poor Clayton’s bad time hog tied and all. Musta been embarrassin’. Still, better with Sam than maybe beaten to death.

They were real close, mere inches apart. Nobody would get cold now, even if she had mostly made the whole thing up to ruffle him. And maybe to be close, ‘cause why not? She liked him. She did what she wanted. It was funny, the way he got about the priest and nun joke.

Lisabeth was thoughtful, watching him again. “You happy out here, bounty hunting?” She asked him, curious. He hadn’t liked farming, but it had almost sounded like bounty hunting was something to do with his skills, not necessarily something he liked. Maybe he did. Maybe he liked being out here, riding his horse and asking people questions and finding folks out.

Sam could probably be a good sheriff, if he wanted to be a lawman. People would trust him, she thought. But somehow, she didn’t see that being up his alley, given the things he had said before. Maybe he liked being out on his lonesome, his own boss? She wasn’t sure, but she sure liked being HER own boss.

 

[Armphid]

Her giggle made him smile and flush. He almost put his arm around her and pulled her against him, like she was a girl with him lying in a bed somewhere. Like they were courting lovers rather than...what were they? Friends and partners? Sure...he hoped. But...was there anything else? He hated to think it but he'd realized that one night in jail that he was starting to be awful taken with her. But he'd thought she preferred other company. But then that kiss. And now this...though this might just be to get a rise out of him.

Not like that. He thought.

Her question, that sweet voice thoughtful, provided a welcome distraction. It was a good question too. One he wasn't sure how to answer. "Well, I ain't sure. Happy in part...yeah, I reckon I am. Most men that came out of the war like me, if they couldn't get back to a normal life, they turned outlaw. Like them James brothers. But instead of taking from folk, I can give 'em some piece of mind. Let them know that the law means somethin' and killers and the like can't just get away with breaking it by riding out of it's reach."

He sighed, "And there's folk the regular law don't want to help. But I can. That's worth something. But...it's hard. Lonely a lot of the time though. An' I know fer every bushwhacker I bring in, three more are slithering free and hurting more folk, so it don't really matter. I ain't got no place that's mine, even with Cal's family. And plenty of folk think bounty hunters are lower than the wanted men we bring in, so I ain't thought of too highly most places."

Then Sam laughed. "No real answer, is it? Guess I'm still figuring that one out myself."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Lisabeth didn’t laugh, still watching him, still thoughtful. She liked to hear him talk, and him talking like that was just...she wasn’t sure what it was, but it made her feel things. She felt a little mixed up, kinda, but also not.

There was the fun in messing with him, seeing his reactions and the expressions on his usually stoic face-and then there were those little soft spots, the good in him showing through. Sam seemed simple and straight forward-but not boring. Still some mystery there, all his thinking-but you didn’t have to wonder at him too much.

She also understood a lot about being lonely.

Was she happy out here? She was free. She was doing the things she wanted to do. But she was lonely, too. Bradford had been nice to her but was Bradford, and her gang-well, she was in charge and didn’t care to get too acquainted. Play cards, cause trouble-but everything was just her little game. She had kept herself busy so she didn’t have to think about things. Intentionally empty headed but good at planning heists. Free and alive, but lonely.

Every time she was happy, someone pulled the rug out from under her. Her pa up and deciding he wanted a different daughter, no longer wanting her helping him on the farm. Lydia secretly thinking her little more than a pet, and hurting her like that. Maybe she had played at being Sal just to avoid someone turning on Lisabeth. Sal wasn’t real. Sal was a game, and it didn’t matter if someone didn’t like her or thought she was crazy-Sal didn’t need anybody or anything, thank you very much.

“That’s okay.” Lisabeth finally said to his last statement, slipping under his arm to wrap one of hers around the front of him, resting her head on his chest. He was warm and nice and she just wanted to touch him. She didn’t think he’d protest. She was pretty sure he liked her just as much as she secretly-or not so secretly-liked him. Sam wasn’t as opaque as he may have thought. Which was okay. She liked that about him.

Time for that later. “Just don’t get shot before you figure it out.” She murmured, already starting to fall asleep, the past two days catching up to her.

 

[Armphid]

That long silence after he finished speaking made him think she'd just fallen asleep at first. But a glance showed that little, pretty face with shining eyes still open, looking...at him? Just kind of looking into space more like. He'd expected a laugh or a teasing insult or calling him a dummy. She surely did with her gang. But instead there was nothing. That made him nervous.

Then she just said, "That's okay." And before he could blink, she was under his arm and pressed against him. Her head was resting on his chest, the smell of her dark hair in his nose. Her small, slender body was warm and sweet against him. She might have worn boy's clothes but the eyeful he'd gotten earlier and what he was feeling pressed to him now told the story of her gender in elegant, silent prose. Her arm draped over him made him feel...awkward as a gentleman, alive and vital as a man, and both uneasy and comfortable.

Lord, she was confusion on two fine legs, no doubt about it. No doubt that she felt...damn good lying with him like this.

After a moment, he lowered and rested his at around her slender shoulders to hold her loosely. "I'll do my best, Miss Green," he answered, knowing she was already asleep this time. "Pity that ain't all up to me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

She was up before him the next day, and every day after for that matter. Toast and the last of the rabbit later, they were on the ride again. Like before they rode hard for a few hours before slowing to a normal pace; both to try and put off any tails and to just eat up distance. Mill Junction was the nearest place he felt safe going to but that didn't mean it was near. That night, they swapped stories by the fire. Lisabeth Green talked about her outrageous antics and he told tales of his travels and hunts. Sam walked out to look around, see if he could spot any sign of pursuit. He'd fall asleep with her still awake and she'd be toasting bread when he woke up.

Where did she get all that energy?

The next seven days went on like that. She never joined him under the blankets again, though he thought about it each night. Probably for the best, true, but it had been mighty nice. Lot better than nice for that matter. It was going to make their destination even harder for him.

That seventh day, he knew they had to be close. He hoped so. There wasn't any toast that morning and the last of the food they had went to the horses. Poor Nellie and Chet were worn too; the loyal beasts needed a good day or two of rest with plenty to eat and drink.

Didn't they all?

They came up over a ridge and Sam sighed with relief. "Just about made it. There she is, Miss Green. Mill Junction." The large mill the town was named for dominated the other buildings but there were plenty of them. It was a bigger town by a fair piece than a mining hole like Tanner's Lode. Stretching out alongside of it was the biggest reason why; a ribbon of steel. The railroad came into town to pick up the produce of the mill and the surrounding farms as well as to bring in goods and occasional passengers. "About as pretty a sight as yourself right now."

He was looking forward to good food, a real bed, and most of all a bath. God, he felt grungier than a coal miner in a pig wallow. It would be nice to see the ladies too. He wasn't sure what Miss Green was going to think of this but it was the safest, best place in town. Guess he'd find out.

The bounty hunter and his newly minted partner rode into and through town. Most folk went about their business, though a few seemed to recognize Sam. Some looked mildly disgusted to see him, others curious but indifferent, a few looked genuinely pleased. Sam nodded to each man who met his eye and tipped his hat to each lady no matter what expression they met him with. The two passed a pair of inns and saloons but Sam kept on riding, didn't even slow his pace.

They came to a large and wide building on the western end of town. It had clearly once been smaller but then had expansions built on at least twice. It stood a good three stories; neat, clean, and well tended. There was an adjacent stable as well. A sign out front proclaimed it "Rachel's Rose Garden" with lettering underneath that read "For all a body's wants" and under that "Open 4pm Daily; Closed Sundays." On the large porch on the first floor, a pair of young women were washing the porch and steps with water as they rode up.

One of then stood, straightening her skirt, a tawny haired woman in her early twenties. She shook her head at the sound of the horses but didn't turn to look, "Mister, we ain't open yet. I'm sorry you'll have to come back in a bit."

"And maybe learn t' read th' sign," the other girl murmured. Her skin was a pleasing but unusual tone, a coppery hue that proclaimed her a half-Indian.

"Hush, Jenny!"

Sam grinned and leaned forward in his saddle, "Well, I reckon we can cool our heels somewhere else fer a spell, Miss Emily, but I was hoping you might make an exception." The two girls jumped at the sound if his voice and turned to face the two riders. "You can ask Miss Mathers, I think she'll be all right with it."

"Sam!" Both of them hurried to the bottom of the steps. "You scruffy bounty huntin' dog!" The blond Emily grinned then the other girl nudged her and pointed at Lisabeth. "Oh, my land!" She ran up the stairs and threw open one of the doors and bellowed, "Hey, everybody! Sam's back! And he brought a girl with him!"

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Lisabeth made a disbelieving scoffing sound. “Flatterer.” But she would wink at him if he cast her a glance, so who knew what that meant.

Lisabeth was relieved to see town too. And a new one! She ain’t ever been here before. Poor Nellie was probably so wore out. Lisabeth was going to get her as many apples as the horse could eat. Both of them-she was rather fond of Chet now, too. They also needed to resupply. No good starving to death out in the desert, after all.

She also would like to have a nice hot bath for her sore muscles, maybe a change in clothes, given she was plain ole’ Lisabeth Green now. No, better! She was Bounty Hunter Lisabeth Green.

...so how did bounty hunters dress? Well, her star was obviously a good start.

It felt a little odd, rolling into a town with just Sam instead of a gang behind her. Nobody even skittered outta the way, but they did recognize Sam here and there. Lisabeth didn’t do no hat tipping. Her attention flitted this way and that, and she caught a fella making a face towards Sam that she found downright unfriendly. She fixed her eyes on him and wore her meanest expression, and he got unsettled and hurried on his way, which made her snicker a little to herself.

Passing the second inn, Lisabeth began to wonder where they were going. Eventually they came to a cute looking house with a stable. Two ladies were washing down the porch. Didn’t look like no inn to Lisabeth. Musta been some friends of his-and there he was being all charmin’, and both of the women rushed right over, happy to see him.

Well good! She was wondering about the folks in this town, for a minute there. She zoned back in just as she was getting pointed at, briefly concerned she just up and got recognized, but Miss Jenny didn’t seem shocked or nuthin’. “...pretty sure I brought myself.” She said to no one, not sounding irritated, exactly, but kind of thrown off a minute by the bellowed announcement as she slipped from her horse-and then staring at the stream of women that poured out of the house.

What the heck kinda place was this, full of all these pretty girls? Wait a minute...she turned back a little to look at that sign-and then it clicked. Oh Lord, it was a brothel.

...he had brought her to a brothel! Lisabeth was doing her best not to crack up and potentially die laughing. Sam! Sam was-but that-how on earth-he really didn’t seem the type, and the way the girls were fawning over him told her he probably wasn’t some run of the mill customer, but clearly a friend. ...right?

She had kinda figured him for a prude, to be honest. Lisabeth half wondered if he might be playing a joke on her, or at least-was pulling what she would be pulling, going about his business but looking to shock her at the same time. Either way, hilarious!

Except, while he was being swarmed, so was she-and she didn't have the benefit of still being on her horse...or being tall. "She's so tiny!" "You look like you've been on the road a long time, you should come inside-" "What a pretty horse!" "What's your name sweetie?" "How did you meet Sam?" "Your hair is so pretty!" "Are you guys...you know-" "How you making boy clothes look that nice?" "Look at her little boots!" "He ain't ever brought a girl here before!" She found herself being pulled and sort of crowded into the house whether she had a mind to go or not, an overwhelmed glance back for Sam that read Help! -but too late.

Oh dear.

 

[Armphid]

"Why been gone so long, Sam? We thought you might be dead!"

"Are you on a job, Sam?"

"Finally going to have some fun, Sammie boy?"

The bounty hunter was being swarmed almost as much as Lisabeth. Above it all, however, came a clear whistle. The ladies jumped and drew back, parting like the Red Sea before old Moses himself. "Now, ladies, you're hardly showing good manners." Descending the staircase from the house was an older woman in a lovely dark green dress with some elegant corseting and a very daring neckline. Her hair was red, colored if she was graying. Her eyes were a steely blue and her skin was pale. "We are also opening in two hours, and with you all here, there is no work being done."

Sam swung down from his horse and rather than tip his hat, removed it entirely, "Mrs. Mathers, it's my doing, ma'am. I rode up and caused a fuss. If I may, it's a deep pleasure to see you again and be here."

She smiled, "I'm glad to see you too, Samuel. Nearly ten months since we last saw you. Some of us were concerned about you." Her eyes fell on Lisabeth, noting her tack and gear, the gun at her side and her smile widened. "Your friend...?"

Sam flushed, "I'm forgetting my manners. Mrs. Rachel Mathers, may I present Miss Lisabeth Green? My friend and my new partner in business."

The madame walked forward and offered her hand, "A pleasure, Miss Green. We'll have to talk while you're here, if you wouldn't mind. I always like meeting other women making their way out here." She then looked at Sam. "So, Samuel. You know you're always welcome. You'd like your usual, I assume?"

He nodded, "If you can spare two rooms, Mrs. Mathers. We had a hard ride and I'd like the horses to have three days rest at least. It'd do Miss Green and myself good too, of course."

She raised am elegant eyebrow, "And my standing offer?"

Sam flushed. "No thank you, Mrs. Mathers, though I appreciate it. You know you needn't-"

She shook her head, "But I do. Well then. Emily, Jenny, see Samuel and Miss Green to a pair of rooms if you would. Ginger, get Johnny around to see to these horses. The rest of you, back to your tasks now!" She inclined her head, "We'll catch up as soon as I'm free, Samuel. I'll have baths drawn and get hot meals up to you both immediately."

"You're a life saver, Mrs. Mathers." Sam replied. His shoulders relaxed; much of the tension gathered there over the last few days easing.

"That's not the term most would use for me, Samuel. Thank you. And welcome back, my boy." She swept back up the stairs and the women, other than the two who'd first greeted them.

Tawny haired Emily grinned, "Come on, Sam, Miss Green. We'll get you put up right."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Lisabeth was glad for the whistle- she had been pretty sure she was gonna drown in all that silk and pretty ladies for a minute there. Some may have found that a good way to go-she probably would have on a different day, if she weren't so busy scheming how to steal Sam and all.

She straightened her hat, looking at the seeming lady in charge a minute-and then Sam's reaction to her. Lisabeth wasn't sure what to make of her-she musta been a nice madame, 'cause Sam wouldn't be that polite to a mean one, she didn't think-but she sure looked serious.

Mrs. Matthers looked to Nellie and then to her belt, and rather than a look of disapproval or shock-she smiled wider and asked about her. Well hot dog! Lisabeth grinned and stepped forward to give the stately woman a warm handshake. "Nice to meet ya! Lisabeth is fine, Sam's just overly polite." She said cheerfully, propping her hands on her hips while the two spoke, looking pleased. He'd called her his partner! Boy, he was for real on that! Sam thanked MRs. Matthers and Lisabeth tipped her own hat with a "Ma'am."

They were taken on upstairs and she was happy to finally have that nice bath and get cleaned on up.

////////////////////////////////

"Okay-so it ain't a toy 'less you're good. S'dangerous." Lisabeth was saying to Jenny, the two over by the barn with her six shooter. Johnny had come around to watch, leaning against the barn with crossed arms.

Lisabeth wasn't dressed like a boy anymore-she'd gone into town and gotten herself some Lisabeth Green clothes. She was wearing what initially seemed to be an ankle length, light blue pleated skirt belted neatly at her small waist-but was revealed to be split down the middle when she moved her legs far enough apart, a cross between trousers and a dress-a split skirt. More appropriate than the boy's trousers she usually wore, much more concealing but still scandalous in some circles. Still, it would allow a woman to ride a horse proper.

Her loose white shirt had been traded in for a pretty navy blue women's blouse. It had white pearl buttons down the front, as well as on the cuffs of the recently hemmed sleeves. The shirt was tucked neatly in, giving a better idea to the slight feminine curves of the tiny woman. With her hair clean, shiny and tumbling around her shoulders, she looked like a proper, nice little lady for once. No wonder her father had locked her up.

Well, proper save for the slightly dusty hat bearing her silver star-and the holster hanging off one hip.

Lisabeth had gone into town with Jenny for a guide-the other woman had all kinds of questions about shooting and riding in the desert- Lisabeth was pretty sure it was just an excuse to be away from the house a bit, maybe from the chores.

Lisabeth was all about ducking stuff you didn't wanna do, so she had played along about needing a "guide" when Jenny suggested it. And since Jenny had been so curious about shooting and Lisabeth was also all about women knowing how to shoot, she offered to show her a thing or two.

A dozen or so brightly colored marbles had been carefully laid on the back fence in a neat row, and a stick with a piece of red cloth was shoved into the dirt some ways before that.

"That's why we're aiming over there. No town behind it to catch stray bullets, no way for someone to step out from behind something and get hurt. See? Clear." She made a sweeping gesture to the empty space on the left, and then the right.

"And that stick? We're gonna try ' n hit around and at it. Jus' see where the bullets fall." Lisabeth stood sideways to the target, lifting her arm and looking down the barrel at the red flag. "Here, you take it-jus' keep your finger off the trigger til you're ready."

Jenny copied the motion and took the pistol. She wasn't much taller than Lisabeth, maybe three inches or so, but enough Lisabeth had to readjust the height, lowering Jenny's arm with a hand on her wrist. "Heavy." Jenny grumbled, and Lisabeth gave a nod. "It'll pop back on ya too. Don't forget."

"That's too far away." Jenny protested about the target, but Lisabeth shook her head. "Nah, it's right there! You're just practicin'."

"She ain't gonna hit it." Johnny said. He was amicable enough, but not very encouraging. "She ain't TRYING to hit it-just something to shoot around-" Lisabeth said crossly, a scowl to the man.

To Jenny, she offered some cheerful encouragement. "See? Just fire-you can't fail, bullet's bound to land SOMEwheres."

The other girl was frowning, one of her eyes closed. She fired, the bullet striking dirt several feet in front if the stick. "Hey, that's not half bad!" "It missed it by a long shot!" "Yeah, but you got it nearly in line with it there! Try again-both eyes open though, you need 'em."

Lisabeth had her fire the gun empty, taking it back to reload it. "The hardest part ain't hitting things." She was saying, quick little fingers making quick work of the process and handing it back. "It's getting an idea of how bullets hit and fall dependin' on the wind, your position, the target. The arm gets tied up with the eyes and the eyes get more acquainted with the head the more you shoot and the more you see what does what. A small movement back here-" Lisabeth moved Jenny's arm, a small adjustment of the gun. "Can make a big difference all the way out there. Jus' practice, looooot's of practice. And then when you want to hit something, all you gotta do is look and decide firmly on it. Your arm and yer mind do everything else for you by then."

"That ain't how that works." Johnny said from his position as Jenny took more careful shots, pausing after each one to think on where the bullet went and readjusting.

"She ain’t askin' you how it works." Lisabeth said with a scowl.

"Well it ain't. She ain't ever gonna learn to hit anything by all that missing."

"You gotta know how your bullets are gonna fall before you expect to hit much! She's just seeing how to fire the damned thing. Get on outta here you gonna make fun!”

"You're teaching her wrong!"

Jenny handed the empty pistol to Lisabeth, her eyes shifting between the two. “M-maybe we should stop for now. I ain’t hitting it.”

Lisabeth growled, just not at her. She was reloading the gun again, scowling something fierce at Johnny. "Alright then, YOU show us how to shoot, ya clown." She said with a stomp, marching to trade places with him at the barn.

Johnny smirked, stepped up to Jenny and pulled his own pistol. “Now it’s like this-you just line up the shot on that little piece of red, and-” He fired, the bullet hitting dirt near the stick. Lisabeth clapped. “Very nice, good sir!” She said, sounding so sweet all of a sudden-almost sickly so before her voice dropped back to her normal, fiery one. “Cept Jenny got three shots closer than that. Jus’ sayin’.”

Johnny turned a shade of red. “Well YOU come up and hit it then!”

Lisabeth shrugged, straightening up with an upward gesture of her hands, flippant. “Naw. That’d be too easy.”

“Hell it is! You come hit it. Or ‘dem marbles you set up so far back-we ain’t got a rifle!”

“You can’t hit them marbles?” Lisabeth said in the same flippant tone.

“I could, but I’d like to see you do it first!”

It’d been a trap. Lisabeth smiled, some sort of game or trick coming. “Okay, I’ll make ya a deal. Whoever hits the most marbles gives Jenny their gun, so she can practice more, later.” She gave the other woman a wink.

“I ain’t making no deal.”

“Why, ya scared you won’t hit any?” Lisabeth teased. “Okay then, ya big scaredy cat-see how many you can hit, and whatever’s left I’ll hit the rest of them. If I miss just ONE, I give up my gun. If I clean ‘em out the rest of the way, then you give up yours.” That sounded like much better odds, and she was tiny enough the hustle wasn’t entirely picked up on.

Johnny gave a curt nod and turned to look at the fence, the small colorful pieces of glass glittering in the sun-pretty shades of green, blue, yellow and red. A child’s toy turned into targets. He figured he could hit a few. There was no way she’d clean the rest out. Impossible.

He aimed and fired, hitting one in the first set of six bullets and two with the next. The man smiled-it was no small feat! She couldn’t wipe the other nine or so, surely. Jenny clapped, impressed.

“Well, get on outta the way.” Lisabeth said, standing straight but not moving to the position he had just fired from-staying back near the barn, an additional eight feet away from the fence.

“‘Cause I’m about to embarrass ya.” She said with a grin before she lifted her gun and fired-green glass shattered, exploding outwards. Hit the hammer with her other hand. Red glass shattered, exploded off the fence. Again. Blue! Again. Yellow! She fired twice more and took out yet another red and another blue marble. Her gun smoked and she tried not to smirk too much as she made a show of reloading. Johnny cursed and thrust his gun at Jenny, stalking away red in the face.

Lisabeth laughed, and the laughter was contagious enough that Jenny did too. Peals of it at the expense of the poor man. “Well, now you can practice all you want!” Lisabeth said, finding the entire matter hilarious. “Hell, later I’ll teach you to cheat at cards, and then you can show him up there too!”

 

[Armphid]

A bath, a shave, and a hot meal had worked a miracle of transformation. Sam felt like a new man. The dust, dirt, and travail seemed to have been washed away with water and sliced free by the razor. He'd left the cheery cathouse just after it officially opened, heading into town to get some business taken care of. Truth be told, he'd wanted to linger in the bathtub and soak in the hot water for a good while longer...but that wouldn't get anything done. And the ladies would need the tub and room for other customers.

As much as he felt safe and comfortable at the Rose Garden, he'd also find it trying to stay there at times. Mostly when he had been without female companionship for some time. The ladies there were quite pretty, all talented at their craft he was sure, and with Mrs. Mathers standing offer, well...temptation abounded. Especially with what Lisabeth Green was doing to him lately. That searing kiss and the feel of her sweet, soft, little body against his...Lord, it was hard not to think about. And that just made the temptation worse.

Not that he was against or uninterested in that kind of thing. Far from it. But the ladies at the Garden, well, every man that came through looked at them like that and it seemed to him there should be at least one man in their lives who didn't. That they could feel safer with.

Didn't mean he wasn't tempted. Less so this time but that was due to his yearning for Miss Green. Which he couldn't deny he had but that wasn't going to do him anymore good than a kick to the head. Hell, if he told her, she'd probably kick him in the head and then die laughing.

She did have an awful pleasant laugh though.

"Tarnation, Sam," he growled to himself. "Get your fool mind off the girl." He was done with his business now, walking back wearing a new pair of black trousers tucked into his well worn cavalry boots, a simple blue button down under a dun colored vest, his jacket over it, and his dusty hat on his head. His old clothes were in a sack; he'd ask them to be done with the Garden's laundry in the morning. His pistol finally had rounds in it and the box of them as well as everything else he'd ordered at the gun and general stores would be delivered tomorrow as well. It had all taken him a few hours but now he was moseying back to the Garden.

He hadn't seen Miss Green since they were shown to their rooms. That made him nervous for some reason.

The sun was setting but still in the sky as he drew near. The Garden would have some customers now but more showed up after dark. Customers was the right term; unlike most such places, women could come for the services of the establishment as well. Mrs. Mathers made sure that discretion was upkept by both her staff and the customers and didn't truck with any nonsense. The few men she had on staff were more the capable of dealing with any issues, when they weren't with customers themselves. The ladies, or some of them, could do a lot themselves too.

As he walked up the steps, he noticed Johnny stomping towards the stable, his face red and scowling, then sighing and shaking his head before going inside. Now what was that about? Any why was he wearing a gun belt with no gun?

He pursed his lips. Wasn't his business whatever it was. But it was a mite strange. And he hadn't seen Miss Green since their arrival. Which made it likely she was involved with anything that would have a man angry and embarrassed without a shooting iron he had the tackle for. Which meant he really shouldn't get involved. Sam sighed. He'd borrowed a new Mark Twain he hadn't read yet from the library; his plan had been to retire to his room and read. "Can't let that little devil outta my sight," he grumbled, heading to the stables.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

"An' then I jus' shoved my gun inta Jenny's hand and left. I could hear 'em laughing at me, that Green girl an' Jenny both." Johnny was sitting on a bale of hay, his young face upset. He shook his head, "She tricked me. Made me look like a fool," he moaned.

In front of Jenny. He didn't have to say it but he didn't need to. Sam was leaning against the the door to Chet's stable, petting the mustang's head. He'd visited Nellie when he first came in and badgered the story out of the younger man. "Yeah, she did. 'Cause you acted like a damn fool! What're you doin' givin' Jenny grief she she's trying something out the first time? How good'd you do first time you got your hands on a gun?" Johnny blinked, clearly excepting a more sympathetic reaction. "Did Mr. Mathers tease you when you didn't hit shit? Bet you all the money in my pockets an' all in yours he didn't. Did he?"

"...No."

"You got off light," Sam almost cuffed him upside the head. "If I'd been there, I'd have kicked your sorry butt back into this stable, an' if Mrs. Mathers was there, she'd have kicked you out!" Johnny hung his head. The bounty hunter sighed, "Growin' up around here, I'd expected better from you. That ain't how you catch the eye of a girl you're sweet on."

The stable master's head rose, his cheeks red again, "I never said I was...sweet on Jenny."

"Just did, you young idiot." Sam shook his head, "I figured it out partway through the story. The ladies have probably been giggling about it behind yer back for weeks, 'cept the younger ones." Like Jenny herself. "You stepped in it, boy. She's gotten enough grief in her life, bein' a half-breed and all. Now she's gonna put you in with everyone else who ever put her down."

Johnny groaned, "I didn't even think of that. Lord, I'm so dumb, Sam."

"Sure are," the older man agreed.

Johnny sat there a few minutes. "What do I do now?"

Sam looked at him steadily for another minute. "You try and make it right. And you accept it if she don't want to be right with you and if she don't give you the time of day. Or if she does but she don't feel like you do. That's any person's right." The other man nodded. "She's got a gun now." He nodded again. "Nothing to put it in though."

Johnny looked up slowly, "Maybe...I could give her the gun belt too? I'd have to make some new holes; she got a small waist..."

"Be a good start," Sam agreed. "And when you do, you apologize to her fer being an ass. Ask if she'd want to practice shooting with you once Miss Green and I leave. Better brace yerself too; you put a target on you for trouble making by your idiocy. You try and be a good sport."

"I guess I deserve it." Johnny sighed. "What if she don't...feel the same? If I ever get the courage to tell her."

"Then she don't. And it'll hurt like hell but you'll live." Sam shrugged, "Part of living, really, gettin' your heart broke." He shook his head, "Anyway. I got me a book to read." Sam picked up his laundry sack and made his way out of the stable.

"Sam?" He stopped at the sound of his name but didn't turn back. The younger man stood up, "You ever make a fool of yerself over a girl? Get your heart broke?"

The bounty hunter started walking again, "A man joins the Army for all kinds o' reasons."

"Huh? That ain't no answer!"

"It's what ya got," Sam called back. "Anyone asks I'm in my room readin'."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Pretty, silvery and vivacious laughter off in the corner of the lounge, a game of cards in progress. Lisabeth always found a way to entertain herself, one way or another-didn’t matter where she was or who she was with, she’d have a good time...sometimes at the expense of others, as poor Johnny had found out. Always some game or trick up her sleeve, the trouble maker.

The petite outlaw was winning, too, much to the consternation of her table mates. A girl hovered here and there at the shoulders of the men, but Lisabeth was the only woman playing cards. She seemed to be teaching one of the girls as she went though, hiding her mouth behind her hand and occasionally whispering something or other to her. A frothy mug of beer was set in her spot, occasionally being drawn from.

One of her legs was up on the chair itself, her little boot and ankle tucked under her other leg, which was swinging back and forth in front of her chair, her other boot dangling above the floor, she was so little. She looked awfully nice in her new clothes-even if she was sitting there playing cards like one of the boys.

Eventually the man on her left threw down his cards with an exasperated sigh, picking up his own glass of brew-and Lisabeth grinned in that mischievous way of hers, when she was about to play a trick or making fun. “What’s the matter Ted? Need a better hand? Here, maybe these will help!”

And out of nowhere she produced no less than five aces, holding them out to him fanned out and face up so the entire table could see ‘em. There was a startled, staring silence-and then the entire table erupted into laughter, a few near tears. Lisabeth had that triumphant, cat eating the canary grin now, surveying the results of her joke. There weren't any stakes to the game, just for fun. One might wonder how long she'd been planning it. From the outset? Was it the purpose of whole game? Or partway through when she started to lose?

Who knew, but the results were good. She caught Sam's gaze and the grin disappeared a moment, a thoughtful sweep of his new attire-and then she winked at him, a tip of her hat with that shining star, and a dazzling smile that glittered in those aquamarine eyes.

 

[Armphid]

Sam heard her before he saw her. That silver bell laughter that rang out with more joy than a church on Christmas Day. His steps quickened as he came into the lounge, with anticipation and minor dread. What was she into now?

His steps came to a halt as he actually caught sight of her. Well. She sure wasn't dressed like a boy now. Lord have mercy. Lisabeth Green was a vision of loveliness; petite but undeniably feminine, her elegant shape hinted at as much as called attention to by that tightly tucked in shirt. Her hair shone but her eyes were even brighter. No wonder her Pa had gotten mad about her running wild; looking that good, she'd have the eye of every man she passed. There were taller, curvier, and more scandalously dressed ladies in the lounge right now but there wasn't one that compared in his view

Sam stood there for...well, he wasn't sure how long. Then he heard a feminine voice clearing her throat. Mrs. Mathers was seated at a couch against the far wsll, observing everything. Well, maybe one got close. She usually moved through the brothel, checking in here and there, but she trusted her staff to manage affairs according to the rules. "You look very nice, Samuel, but perhaps a bit sun struck. Why don't you sit with me for a while?"

He nodded, "Uh, thank you, yes." There was a bemused look and a little smile on her lips that made him nervous but he sat all the same. "I hope Miss Green ain't causing no trouble, Mrs. Mathers."

The older redhead chuckled softly, "We could use more trouble like her. She's got drinks flowing in here like a river." Her eyes studied the tiny former outlaw as she won another hand. "She's an interesting girl. I hope to speak with her at length while you're here. How did you come to be traveling together? And partners? I seem to recall you preferred to be alone. Out there and here."

Sam flushed and shrugged, "It's a story. One I'd feel better tellin' it in private, if it's all the same."

"Mm. Tomorrow then." Rachel Mathers smile turned enigmatic, "You seem rather taken with her, Samuel." He didn't answer her immediately. "I've wondered about your...type before, since you turn us down whenever you're here."

"She ain't nobody's type," Sam grumbled, "no other lady like her west or east of the Mississippi." He shook his head, "But I wouldn't say I'm...taken with her, exactly, it's just..." The bounty hunter sighed and shook his head again. "She's the most confusing and frustrating person I ever met. And I didn't go looking for her to be her friend. Friend, hell, partner now. Never thought I'd have a partner in...anything. And knowing what are know about her past and all, I just...would be right to be taken with her or feel...well." He was silent again. At the table, Lisabeth revealed her cheating and set them roaring with laughter.

Their eyes met across the room. Her smile faltered and then swept over him and back up. She winked and shot him a smile that made his heart pound and his mouth feel dry. Sam felt the warmth in his face as he blushed, honest to God, blushed. Then she was back to laughing and teasing her game partners. Sam blinked and shook his head. "...I was saying...right. It's just wouldn't be considerate or right of me." Then he looked over at Rachel, "Would it? I mean, to your way of thinking."

She raised her eyebrows and a slow smile spread on her lovely face, "Samuel, are you...asking my permission to be interested in Lisabeth Green?"

Sam opened his mouth and then shut it. The madam started to laugh, her eyes bright. The bounty hunter sighed, "Shouldn't have opened my fool mouth." He rose, "Begging your pardon, Mrs. Mathers but I do think the sun may've gotten to me a mite after all. Think I'll retire for the night." She was still giggling but nodded and waved him on. "Good night then, Mrs. Mathers."

He cast another look at Lisabeth Green in those simple and startling women's clothes and smiled a bit himself before heading to the foyer and the stairs, "You're a damn fool, Sam." He just had to get upstairs with the book, lay down with some tea and read, and not think about Miss Green.

Yeah. Damn fool, all right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

His boots rested by the door, his socks laid over them. His jacket and vest hung with his jacket on hooks along the wall. He wore a normal belt; his harness and pistol hanging off one of the brass bed posts. Shirt unbuttoned, Sam sat back on the bed with a sigh. The lamps in the room were bright enough and he had one right on the nightstand, a cup of tea with it. He glanced out the open window at the shadowy and dark night landscape.

Might get to relax a little today yet. And try to forget making a fool of himself in front of Mrs. Mathers. He leaned back and opened the book.

Did she get a new corset with her new clothes? Maybe one of those new brassieres?

Sam growled, "Read the damn book. Making Johnny look well controlled."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Lisabeth was losing now, given she’d stopped cheating. Her table mates teased her for it and she let them, finding it almost as funny as her joke. She finished off her mug and cast a glance to where Sam had been-but he’d up and disappeared. He had sure looked handsome. Well, he usually did, but he also cleaned up real nice.

Gone upstairs perhaps?

She played another round, declined another drink-she needed her wits about her!-and then gave her hand to the girl she’d been teaching. Lisabeth hopped up off her seat and gestured to it with a flourish. “You can beat ‘em-you’re probably better than me at cards already, anyway.” More silvery laughter, contagious and catching around the table-as they bid her a regretful goodnight. She made a minute adjustment to her gun belt and made her way through and around the pockets of men and women. She was a small slip of a woman, but she walked with a straight back and almost as if she were six feet tall.

Presence. Lisabeth Green had presence. Certainly was charismatic, if a tad odd.

She moved on up the stairs in the much quieter foyer, tapping her fingers along the banister as she went. Another woman might’ve stopped in her room, fussed over her appearance for a minute. Not Lisabeth. She darn well knew what she looked like. The boy clothes kept the rough men in her gang from looking at her too closely, avoided attention she very much did not want, from anyone.

Sam though, she wanted to know Sam. She already had his attention, but she hadn’t gone and gotten Lisabeth Green clothes just for herself, entirely. Maybe, mostly for him-because bounty hunter Lisabeth probably looked more like sheriff Lisabeth, back in Tanner’s Lode. But this was good too. She only needed the hat and star, she’d decided.

She may not be gussied up, exactly, but she thought she looked nice. She was scheming, after all. Wouldn’t do to undersell herself. She waltzed up to his door, humming that little tune to herself absently, lifting one of her small hands to knock out a pattern on the door-before interrupting it with a series of crazed knocks before she propped her hands on her hips, amused at the ridiculousness of her knocking-and how it would probably ruffle him, her new favorite activity.

Soon as that door opened, she'd smile at him. "Hi Sam!" She said, much like she had teased him when she first visited him in the cell she'd locked him up in. What on earth sort of trick was she up to now? Couldn't a poor man read?

If he let her-or at least, didn't STOP her-she'd stride on into the room, her little black button up ankle boots sounding on the floor boards as she cast her eyes around the room. "I lost something! I thought it might be in here."

...how? Had she even been in the room?

She moved around, putting on an exaggerated show of "looking" for whatever she supposedly lost, one of her little games-always exaggerated movements when she played them. She dropped down to peer under the bed, picked up a pillow-silly things like that before she saw the book he was reading, immediately distracted. "Oh hey! I know this guy! He writes books about Steam Ships! Boy, if I didn't love riding so much, that's what I'd go do-learn the river and captain one!" She picked it up, holding his place in it with her delicate index finger while she looked through it a moment.

The distraction almost immediately made it clear Lisabeth Green piloting a steam ship would be DISASTROUS, but the irony escaped her.

 

[Armphid]

Sam was about five pages in when there was a knock at the door. Not a regular knock; it started as a little tune but then dissolved into frenetic, off rhythm clatter of noise. He raised his head and gave the door a sour eyed grimace. Three guesses who that was and he didn't need one.

Knowing she'd only get worse if hr ignored her and secretly curious about what she might want with him now, he set the book down and walked to the door. She was standing there with a thousand dollar smile on her face and her hands on the swell of her hips. His annoyed expression softened at the sight of her to slide through resignation and settle on an helpless appreciation. Simple clothes but did she look good! Always did, but freshly bathed and clean, and in that fetching outfit, she had a whole different impact. He nodded his head at her chirped greeting, "Evening, Miss Green. I'm sure you know but you look might fine to...night?"

His brow furrowed in confusion as she marched past him and into the room. What was...? Sam shut the door and turned to face her, then regretted it. Given the nature of the establishment, there would be certain assumptions made with a man and woman alone behind closed doors. She'd teased him when he worried about her reputation in the wild and that was fair but there were plenty of folk here. "Sorry, Miss Green, let me open that door again an'-what?"

He trailed after her into the room, forgetting the impropriety of the closed door for the moment. "Lost something? Have you even...probably were in here, curious as a cat." He was about to ask what she'd lost when she noticed the book. He couldn't help a smile coming to his face at her declaration, "I reckon you'd have a loyal crew, Cap'n Green, least until you crashed into Vicksburg and burned it down."

Sam plucked the book out of her hand and set it on the little dresser in the room, "Now what did you lose, Miss Green? Not that I mind your company but a woman in a man's bedroom in a place like this an' folk'll make assumptions. So what were you looking for?"

He then realized that, since he was going to read and sleep, that his shirt was unbuttoned more than halfway. Sam flushed and started to hastily rebutton the garment.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Lisabeth took off her hat and pretended to scowl about Captain Green crashing her ship-and almost, aaaalmost made a joke about that judgemental nun and priest probably not being in a place like this-but she didn’t. That wasn’t the kind of rise she wanted out of him, right now.

Not the kind of rise at all.

But boy, just hearing him talk, and that silly gentlemanly way about him with an outlaw, and a crazy one like her-and that color to him all of a sudden!

He started to rebutton his shirt, no doubt thinking on them ‘assumptions’-and one of her little hands caught the two sides of cloth on one of the freshly redone ones, brushing past his hands and pressed against his bare chest for a moment, something different glittering in those pretty eyes as she tossed her hat onto the dresser, not a joke or a trick or anger but-

“You know Sam,” She said thoughtfully about the ‘lost’ item as she turned to face him fully, a slow, ever amused smile curving her lips. “I’ve plumb forgot.” And then she tugged him down on the partially undone shirt, her other hand framing one side of his face and her fingers threading into his hair as she kissed him, just as hot, just as searing-maybe even more so- than before.

Cept she didn’t break away and hop on a horse, this time. She hooked one of her little boots behind his ankle and pushed him onto the bed. “Whatcha doin’ all alone in here, anyhow?” She asked with a slightly lower tone of voice, still amused but...almost sounding dangerous? She was all kinds of trouble. Was she teasing him? Was this another one of her games that he was going to think on for a number of frustrating nights afterwards?

A bracing hand on one of his knees and then she was on the bed too, quick as a wink. Beside him on the mattress just a moment on her hands and knees, Lisabeth moved to be over him, that cat like grin and her hair curtaining their faces as she kissed him again, a playful nip at his bottom lip before she sat back. She was straddled just above his hips with her weight-not that there was very much of it- on her knees. “Ain’t ya worried about getting cold? Yer health and all.”. She shook her head with a tsk noise, as if this was a long suffering problem-but she was grinning.

Those quick little hands were making short work of the buttons he’d so recently redone. Good Lord. This wasn’t a seduction, it was an attack! All that energy was being used against him, and the tricky minx had slipped past all reasonable, gentlemanly defenses a fella could have-that anybody could have! And she was still fully, chastely clothed-but somehow managing to look as tempting as a woman could-that navy blue shirt with the pretty pearl buttons.

 

[Armphid]

Sam froze as her hand pressed against hid chest. Hell with assumptions, that was downright scandalous! Sure, she was an outlaw but he didn't want to be the cause if anyone talking bad about her. God, that little hand was nice though.

Before he could really process further, she took hold of his shirt in that diminutive hand and hauled him down for a blistering kiss. Normally he'd wonder how so little a thing could pull him bodily down like that but he wasn't able to wonder a damn thing. The kiss obliterated thought and sent fire running through his body. It was like that kiss in the desert but unlike it as well. There was an...intent to this that hadn't been there before. And she held it, held him, for long moments.

Then she threw him onto the bed. Tripped, really, but still! Threw him! The bed creaked and rattled but held; used to such treatment. Sam looked up at her, shocked and flushed. "M-Miss Green, I-you-my God, th-that..." What was he even trying to say? He didn't even know! That was amazing. Sweet and scorching. And now she was stalking him; fire in her eyes and a thrilling, dangerous note underlying her voice. He felt his face heating as she asked him what he was doing alone. His heart was pounding fit to crack his ribs. He felt...not fear, exactly, but he wasn't sure what to call it. She was the cat and he was the mouse she had cornered. And God damn him if it wasn't hotter than sin.

His breath caught as she swooped down on him and kissed him again. This time his body was engaged, the former soldier kissing back. She was astride him in a flash, straddling him just above the waist. He'd never seen, never imagined a more sensual sight than her astride him with that cat's smile and those bright, hungry eyes. Even fully, rather conservatively clothed, she was a vision of desire like he'd never seen.

This was like a scene in one of those penny dreadful folk back East read about the West, he realized. The ones where the sweet and virginal young lady is ravished by a rouguish and rough but good hearted outlaw. Except he was the lady and she was the ravisher!

Damn it, why was that exciting him? His heart was beating even faster, his breath quick, and he was harder than a diamond in January.

Because he wanted this, wanted her, like she was cool water on a high desert day. But he couldn't quite get over that worry that this was all another of her games. So if she led, then he wouldn't feel such a fool if it was. If it wasn't...hell. He wasn't no blushing virgin schoolmarm.

He half sat up and this time, he was the one go kiss her. Lord, how could her lips be so soft? "If you're, ah, worried about me catching a chill," he said in s low rumble, "then-then why don't we keep each other warm? Be uh, be a damn shame for so nice a little chest to catch a chest cold now."

God. She was going to start laughing at him any minute. He might not blame her after that.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

His reaction was even better than she had expected, all flustered and jumbling up his words like that. Genuine shock and surprise and...well, he was a man, wasn’t he? He liked her. Even if he mighta been too polite to ever do anything about it. That’s why the scheming! She was all about scheming. Her ambush had been perfect, maybe the best heist she’d ever come up with, stealin’ Sam. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t that difficult-but it was already proving to be rewarding, even if it didn’t go anywhere.

But Lisabeth sure as hell intended and wanted it to go somewhere. And she always had been good at getting the things she wanted, accustomed to it, really! But she hadn’t been sure of ever getting to steal Sam, particularly when she went and got his stuff back, wanted him to like her. Did that make this better? Sam being a thing she had thought she couldn’t have, previously?

Was that why she was here? He was so different from anyone she knew, so nice, so safe. Good. Sam was just...good. She couldn’t help but want to convince him to be bad, even just a little. Shock him out of his socks. Touch him.

Boy, did she want to touch him.

He came up to kiss her and Lisabeth abandoned the cloth of the now unbuttoned shirt to run her hands over his chest, moving up to slide the shirt down off his shoulders and arms, tracing back up the lean muscles for his face again as he broke the kiss to talk. Lisabeth peppered kisses along his cheek and jaw, taking her hands off him to loosen and undo her gun belt, carelessly letting it slide to the floor. The belt fastening the skirt around her waist was next, also discarded. A soft, breathless laugh and a nip to his ear, more soft, fast, warm grazing kisses down the side of his neck and shoulder as he finished speaking. She liked the sound of his voice, liked the way he had said that, even if it was a little nonsensical. Then again, she had opened things up with an ‘I’ve lost something’, so who was she to judge-and she was secretly pleased he played along with her ridiculousness about the being cold, was always such a good sport about silly things. He was not boring. Definitely not boring.

“What, not worried about that priest and nun no more?” Lisabeth said in that same tone of voice, making fun but in such a...such a fond manner it could hardly be taken as insult even to the most easily offended of folks. “You don’t want me to call in a chaperone?” He’d feel the smile curving her lips against his cheek. She shifted just a mite further back so he could sit up almost fully, her clothed chest pressing into his naked one, those deft hands sliding around to his back, tracing along his shoulder blades. With her on her knees and the tall bounty hunter seated like he was, they were face to face now, her eyes curious, warm, that glitter of want.

Everything seemed that much more intimate, way she was looking at him like that. “I want to have fun.” She said, her tone lowering even further, soft and with a hint of something to it, almost a whisper. “I want to know what you’re like, Sam.” That sincere, soft, honest voice, quiet and almost vulnerable-and then a slow curve of her lips as she pressed into his shoulders, back down into the bed, back to playful, dangerous.

She was untucking her shirt, fingers running over the pearl buttons. “Didja see we almost matched?” She said of the blues they had both selected, almost as if they weren’t in a bed together, both of them a little flushed, warm, and excited. As if she hadn’t started to undo those pretty buttons, revealing she had INDEED gotten a new corset. This one was prettier, less practically colored than the cream one and certainly a little more revealing-black and with an almost tessellating pattern of little desert roses sewn into the smooth satin material. It didn’t have much boning-Lisabeth didn’t need any, she was so tiny-but it fit her form nicely, outlining those distinctly feminine features-her tiny slip of a waist, the soft flare of her hips, her smaller but lovely chest. She was soft and pretty and so very delicate, for all that fire and passion and roughing it she did-and utterly unafraid or nervous to be revealed.

Though...she was only showing him the front of her. But even if...if the scars on her back were so terribly ugly, she didn’t care. He liked her. She wasn’t dumb, and neither was he. Nobody had to talk about that any.

The shirt too was carelessly discarded, that grin of hers. “Ya know, I’m half sure I picked this out for you.”

 

[Armphid]

He almost sassed her back about the chaperone thing but he hesitated; if he said he might need one with a dangerous outlaw around, she might go get someone. He wouldn't put it past her. Damnation, but it was also so hard to focus on anything other than the delicious torment she was putting him through. The feel of her body against his bare chest, clothes though she was, was maddening and wonderful. Her curious, clever little hands explored his chest, his shoulders, his back. Lights above, how it felt! They seemed to leave little trails of fire on his skin, little sizzles of pleasure that thrilled and teased.

Thrilled and teased. Perfect fit to Lisabeth Green.

She drew back enough to bring them face to face. She spoke again and it damn near broke his heart. That soft, little, vulnerable voice; her heart voice was how he thought of it. It half made him want to slow this down and just hold her, syroking her hair. But "I want to have fun," she said. She said she wanted to know what he was like. It made feel ten feet tall but like he might cry.

Sam wanted to answer her. To say something. But what? "Then let's have fun, Miss...Lisabeth. An' see if we can't find what we're like along the way." Saying her name...such a sweet name. That devilish grin reappeared as she pushed him back down onto the bed. Another display of...what? Strength? Dominance? No, none of that was right. A woman in control of her own sexuality taking a man? That might be closer. Whatever it was, he liked it.

His eyes went wide as she went to work on her buttons, "Holy..." he breathed. His face flushed anew, paled, and flushed again. His mouth was drier than Death Valley all of a sudden. When she pulled the garment aside to reveal that sexy little new corset, he groaned, "Lord have mercy, Lisabeth." She was a man's dream come true; beautiful, sensual, and enjoying it. She looked...amazing. "You're fit to make a saint regret his ways. Or hers."

He ran his hands up her skirt sheathed legs, feeling their supple shape beneath, and then to the small of her back. "Picked it..." His face was honestly stunned and sheepish, almost shy, "...for me?" He pulled her gently down to kiss her, "I ain't never had such nice clothes but it looks like all the world's wonders on you." He kissed her hard and sweet, hungry. Then he lowered his head to kiss along her collarbones and then press reverent lips to the swell of her pert breasts.

Oh. He'd be damned if he wasn't going to tear right through his trousers.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

She liked when he said her name. She liked the way he was looking at her, the color that came, paled, came again. It was amusing, but not in a way that made her want to laugh at him-and it was very, very attractive, all his expressions, the shock, the returned want. He was so nice and so...real. This had been a good idea. This had been the best idea.

His hands moved over her legs and made her skin tingle, the pleated material and the thin pantalettes beneath it unable to fully mask his warmth, his hands moving to the small of her back.

”"Picked it...for me?"

He was adorable. BEST idea-he kissed her and Lisabeth kissed back, a soft giggle at the rest of his words before his lips were on her bare skin, sparking fire and electricity. Lisabeth hadn't ever been very patient and certainly had energy for days and days-but it just sparked more-impatient urgency, excitement, desire. She wanted.

And she was good at getting the things she wanted.

“I don’t think we’re in danger of cold, after all.” She said in that silly way of hers-but it was a little breathless and tinged with that same sort of danger that glittered in her aquamarine eyes. She shifted to be on one side of him, no longer straddling his hips but staying close, pressed into his side. A kiss to his shoulder, her hand trailing down over his chest and then his belt-deft fingers managing to loosen it most of the way before deviating not to him but to his clothed thigh, splayed fingers intentionally teasing-even as she was curiously feeling the muscles there, too.

“Maybe heat stroke, all these clothes we still got on.” Mischievous little smile, Lisabeth sitting up on the bed’s edge to unbutton her little boots, slip them off. Her dark hair hid the lash marks for the most part, the midnight hued tresses soft and shiny. She undid the few buttons at the top of her skirt, humming that little tune to herself again before her hand gripped the material of his trousers on the leg next to her, glancing back at him over her scarred shoulder as she gave a playful tug. “You don’t need those any.” She said with a wink and that devilish grin.

She hooked her thumbs into the waist of her skirt and pantalettes both, slid them down over her pert bottom and pretty legs to kick the last of her conservative clothing off and onto the floor.

Tall black stockings came to about mid thigh on the outlaw, and rather than being secured with a garter belt-which might have been a nice match to the corset-were rather old fashionedly tied with a length of red ribbon around the top of each one- a neat little bow at the front.

Decidedly feminine, even cute. The entire ensemble was ridiculously alluring and attractive, made more so by her loose dark hair and feisty confidence.

 

[Armphid]

His breath hissed in between his teeth and was held in his chest when that delightfully dirty little hand worked his belt loose. He'd had a woman do that before and it had caused a thrill to run through him but that was nothing compared to Lisabeth Green working at his trousers with that wicked smile on her lips. His member actually jumped in his trousers, all the more eager to be released. That held breath rushed out of him in a groan as that small hand rested on his thigh, squeezing through his clothes.

Her touch was so close to his pride. Just a few inches away and it was a delicious torment. He was a little ashamed that his first time those years ago in the War was with a...professional woman but she'd done and taught him a lot. But not even she had so excellently and effortlessly keyed him up and gotten him going the wat this ridiculously pretty, petite little outlaw was.

At her heat stroke comment, he gulped and flushed like a school boy again. He knew what was coming and as much as he wanted it, it made him nervous as well. For so simple and stupid a reason that he felt like an idiot just acknowledging it. But he knew it was there. What if she didn't like his body? What if she didn't like his...you know. She was beautiful; a sculpture of a perfect lithe ideal woman with an overabundance of life breathed into it. Sam was just...Sam.

But he wasn't about to let his anxiety stop him. He wanted to be with her too much and it was stunningly apparent that she'd planned this aggressive seduction all day. "That I don't, and right now I wouldn't want 'em if I did have need."

Sam sat up on the bed and then took a deep to stand. His unbuckled belt practically pulled his trousers down for him. The rangy bounty hunter didn't have anything on under them, his whole body bare to her and his arousal readily apparent. He looked down at her, those cute and sexy stockings, and groaned. His manhood twitched again and a pearl of pre began to seep from his head, "Lord in Heaven, Lisabeth. You're just...just the damned prettiest, sexiest," he blushed, "woman I could imagine, let alone see. Those stockings and that corset...God damn, girl."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

She’d been curious, of course. Very curious. It wasn’t like she had seen a bunch of fellas before. Just the one, and didn’t quite count being how dark it’d been. She’d left the light on on purpose in here.

Which had been the right idea, because-because wow. Lisabeth slipped from the bed as Sam took her in fully, told her she was beautiful, ended on an earnest expletive-another soft laugh from the outlaw-but she was focused on him right now. Her hand touched his chest and trailed sideways, over his lean muscled arm, his back as she circled around him, looking him over and marveling at the difference between him and-well, her only other real defining experience, Lydia. The difference between him and Lisabeth herself-so tall, harder bodied, bigger than she was by far. “Look at all of this you keep hiding under that jacket of yours.” She marveled. “And I thought my boy clothes were a good disguise, golly.”

He was a man and that was very apparent, but he was so very nice to look at with clothes on-and now without them, it was like a secret Sam, something not everybody got to see anymore than they did her. Her curious fingers moved a little higher for his shoulder, tracing the muscles of his back before she continued her circle, in front of him now. Aquamarine eyes studied over the front of him, hand trailing from shoulder to chest, lower, lower-a smile curved her lips and her eyes narrowed as she tipped her head back to look at him, deft, dangerous little fingers twirling around him as she came close again, pressing along his side with a kiss to his chest, tracing fingers pausing for a curious, still gentle but more insistent grip.

“...what’re we doing out of bed for?” Lisabeth breathed in that dangerous, desiring way of hers. “I’m aimin’ to seduce ya. Figure it’s working?” Teasing little thing, always.

 

[Armphid]

Of all the things he'd expected, not that he was entirely sure what he expected, this wasn't quite it. Sam felt a rosy blush on his cheeks as Lisabeth circled him slow, inspecting him with curious interest. It wasn't like she'd never seen a naked man before. Wait, was it? He started to realize that it was as she examined him, that one warm hand sliding over his body.

He flushed again at her compliment, "Wouldn't say hiding, exactly. And I reckon more folk wonder what's under yours than mine." He liked her look and her touch even more but it made him a bit...well, bashful was the word. Sam knew damn well he wasn't no pretty thing to be looked at.

But judging from her eyes, just maybe...

His breath caught as those glittering went lower on the front of his body and her hand followed suit. She wouldn't...he wanted her to, but she- "Ohhh," he couldn't help it as those curious, clever fingers touched him there. A shiver went through him and he wondered if she could feel him pulsing in her hand.

That devilish, breathy tone that he was coming to realize was her sensual voice base him shiver again but also but a warm smile on his lips, "Seduce me?" His hands came to her hips and pulled her gently with him back onto the bed, the well used piece of furniture creaking softly. "Seemed like you were set t' ravish me, Lisabeth. But...yeah. It's working."

He kissed her as he pulled her so she was fully atop him again before letting his hands travel. She'd started this on top and he'd found he rather liked it. It also only seemed right to let her take this at her own pace, especially if he was the first man she'd been with. Hell, all the more so if that shithouse rat crazy Lydia was her last lover. His hands, strong but gentle, slid over her back to caress and rub her slender shoulders. He felt the scars under his fingers and dud not shy from them. She was no less beautiful for those marks and he wanted her to know it.

He gently pushed her up a bit, all so he could again kiss down her neck and explore the sweet bit of her breasts the corset left exposed. Lord, he liked her chest. She'd tease him for that, for everything at some point, but he didn't care. He let a hand trail down to curve around one perky butt cheek and groaned into her chest at the feel of it.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

“Oh, I am.” Lisabeth said with a grin about the ravishment before he pulled them back to where she very, very much wanted to be-and how she wanted to be, too. Boy, he sure was smart. Didn’t even have to fight him! And awfully warm, too.

Lisabeth stiffened only a moment when his fingers brushed over the scars-the barest traces of a frown and the first and only glimpse of uncertainty so far today-before he was pressing warm kisses down her neck and across her chest and she sighed, her heart fast and her skin tingling. He was...he was so nice. Good. She liked him, liked his body, liked his voice, liked his face-

She wanted, and now there was nothing in the way and nobody to stop ‘em.

She shifted back to be face to face with him again, to thread the fingers of her right hand through his hair and kiss him-hard and hot and wanting. A nip to his lip and then several quick, nearly frenzied kisses over his cheek, his jaw, back down his throat, her hand slipping out of his hair to touch at his shoulders, his chest-another little nip here and there, bracing herself on one hand on his chest as she moved her hips to be over his, the other hand moving down along his side, over his hip, over him-contagious, lustful energy.

She straightened up on her knees somewhat, the hand on his chest trailing down a little further, the woman poised there a moment as she looked down at him, wanting to see his face, wanting...well, a lot of things, she supposed. Another deft twirl of her fingers over him, a slight bite to her bottom lip before she found the place they fit-and slowly, a little carefully and then all at once moved down onto him, both her hands on his chest now as her weight rested in the cradle of his hips, a shiver racing through the tiny outlaw. There was a bit of color to her face now, though she may have rushed herself just a little, being as impatient as she was.

Didn’t matter. Sam felt right, in a way she was at once sure and unsure of, tight inner walls gripping him in a delicious way, a small spasm as her body adjusted to the sudden intrusion, to the feel of him, a wordless, breathed utterance. She smoothed over his chest with her fingers, panting a little, giving herself a minute to adjust, that barest bit of discomfort but she wanted enough not to care. She was looking at him and his reaction, that devilish smile-before she leaned forward ever so slightly, weight on her hands-and shifted back into him experimentally, a thrilling heat at her core, need spiraling through her. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, this was what she wanted, this was what she’d come up here for-and...and but much more than that-she was here to thrill him, make him feel, want, need. A different sort of game, maybe the best game, one they could play and nobody else.

She moved again, and then again, rocking her hips forward and back, looking for the right way, the right pace, something she was determined to figure out by watching him, feeling him within and under her-she would steal him. She would steal all of him, and he wouldn’t even know it until it was over.

More kisses to his chest before she straightened up once more, another, smaller experimental movement, this time up off of him and back down-before her hands slipped under his thighs just behind her, her own stocking clad legs tensing to support her when she wasn’t nestled on him-and then she and all that balance the tricky rider possessed started to ride him in earnest, those inner muscles near witchcraft, tightening and loosening, tightening and loosening, little flutterings of contractions adding to her movements, the sensation of the vixen’s ministrations. Trying to drive him crazy, over the edge-and with any luck, succeeding. He hadn’t been wrong about ravishment-but judging by the sounds she made-little, breathless, feminine utterances without words-she was enjoying things just as much as she was driving him to.