Judgment Day (1x1 w/ Finnie)

wild-cryptid

wild-cryptid

Free as a Bird
James "Jim" Lynnith
  • age: 24
  • height: 6'
  • appearance: thin but lean, sandy blonde/brown hair, grey eyes. he has scars scattered all over him from fights, and a permanent chip out of his left ear
  • personality: Jim is kind of serious, no-nonsense, although he seems relaxed, very calm in any situation
  • weapons: twin pistols on his hips and a hunting knife tucked into his back
  • clothes: a brown/tan, long-sleeve button up, white-grey pants and a brown cowboy hat, black boots
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Not that a lot of the places Jim visited were huge, but Ranger was small, even for him. A saloon, a mail house, and what seemed to be a general store was all the town really had to it's name. He doubted there was an inn hidden among the small houses that lined the only street, and he doubted even more that there was a sheriff's office. There would be no work here, no wanted criminals for the state, but the next town was still a day and a half away, and he really didn't want to sleep on the ground another night. Really, he was getting too old for this.

He made his way to the saloon, tying his up his horse- a white-spotted, grey saddlebred named Storm. Jim hadn't named the recalcitrant beast, that had been the work of his late wife Grace- the only person the damned horse listened to. But Grace had loved the creature, so by extension he loved it too he guessed, even if the stallion wasn't friendly all the time back.

Like most small towns he visited, Jim figured the bar keep ran the town more or less, meaning he would know if there was someone that would be willing to take the bounty hunter in for just a night. There was a 50/50 shot at it, and usually, he found that if someone in town wasn't willing, the bar keep would put him up for the night for a few extra cents. Jim pushed open the saloon doors to find a quiet place, not much surprise there, but not a soul but the bar tender looked at him when he entered. The people were too engrossed in their drinks, or in one case, their whores, to pay much mind. The sandy-haired bounty hunter removed his hat as he entered; his old formalities of ‘no hats inside’ still holding strong after all those years, and he found a spot at the bar, two seats down from a sickly-looking man, much older than Jim himself, and much thinner. The bar tender, a sturdy bloke with a thick black mustache and equally thick black hair, raised his eyebrows and sat an empty glass in front of the newcomer.

"Scotch, please. It's been a long trip." Jim said, offering a reply to the silent question. He dropped a quarter on the counter in front of the bar tender, who merely smiled lightly in response, and reached behind him to retrieve the drink.

"We don't get many visitors out here, Mr., ah..."

"James. James Lynnith, Jim, please." The bartender nodded and poured the scotch into the empty glass that sat in front of Jim.

"Well, Jim, I'm Kyle. If you need anything, just ask, I help run things around here." Thought so, Jim mused to himself, smiling in response to the man. "So, what's brought you here to Ranger? Surely not sight-seeing?"

"Well, I'm actually looking for some work. I was hoping to find a sheriff's place around here, but it seems you folks don't have one. So now I guess I'm looking for a place to stay. Is there an inn here, or somewhere for a weary traveler to crash?" Kyle frowned at the man, studying him for a second before answering.

"I suppose you're one of them 'bounty hunters' then?" James felt himself tense, ready to fight. Not everyone liked what he did, on account of the other 'hunters' than ran wild across the US, not caring who they hurt as long as they got their money. Jim, at least, tried to do things the right way, make sure he had the right guy the first time. After a long moment, Kyle just nodded again, and picked up a glass to clean, his face lightening up again. "Well, I don't know about an 'inn' but I can run by Mrs. Margaret's house after the saloon closes and see if she has a spot to stay. She's always welcoming to the few strangers we get around here."

Jim physically relaxed, grinning at the keep. "If it's not too much trouble, that would be a huge help."
 
Name: Esther Smith

Age: Just turned 20

Height: 5'4"

Appearance:
View media item 381
Personality: Sweet and kind, Esther is the product of growing up in a small Christian town on a farm. She is innocent, but clever and can be crafty in tough situations, and has the resilience one would expect from a farm girl. She isn't afraid of hard labor.

Weapons: She carries a knife in one of her boots, usually for cutting rope or odd jobs around the home.

--------------------------

"And God said, 'This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come...'"

Esther yawned discretely behind her hand, pausing in her stitches for a moment. She silently apologized to the Lord in Heaven for not paying attention. But she couldn't help it. The comforting sound of her father's voice as he read through the Bible, their usual nightly routine, could just put her right to sleep. It had been a long day of work in the sun, and she had been up late the night before weening a foal from her mother. The poor thing had cried all night. Luckily their cow hand, Jack, had offered to watch the foal tonight so she could get some rest. She made a mental note to make some muffins for him in the morning as a thank you.

"... Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth..."

Esther returned to her stitches, trying to pay better attention. She remembered how the story of Noah had captivated her as a child. It was one of her favorites. But by now she had heard it about a hundred times, and it was all to easy to drift away from the message. She was almost done with her embroidery project, too. She was sewing some flower detailing onto the bottom of a skirt that would be going into her hope chest. It would stay there until she got married, God willing that she ever did. She was positive she had met every man in town, and they either all had wives or were drunkards and cowboys.

She looked over to her mother, who was sitting in the chair beside her father, their hands linked. Esther could tell that she was struggling to stay awake as well. But not her father- he read as if it was the first time he had ever read the scripture. She wished that she could have that kind of conviction.

"The sons of Noah who came out of the ark were Shem, Ham and Japheth. These were the three sons of Noah, and from them came the people who were scattered over the whole earth..."

Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Esther sat up straighter, her head whipping to the door. Her father put down the Bible, his brow furrowing. "Margaret, did you invite company?" He asked.

Her mother shook her head. "No. Esther?"

"No, mother." She said, quickly shaking her head. The small family exchanged nervous glances. They were out in the middle of he country side. They had little to no protection. If someone were to try to intrude on their home, they would have almost no way of stopping them. "Do you... do you think it's outlaws?" She gasped, her face turning white. "O-or Indians?"
Her father quickly shook his head. "Nonsense. If it were outlaws, they wouldn't knock. And I don't think Indians even know what knocking is. Margaret, why don't you greet our guest? Maybe it's just Jack."

Esther's mother went to her hair, which was up in a sleeping bonnet. "I'm not fit to receive company! I'm in my night clothes! Esther, why don't you go see who it is?"

Esther was still a bit nervous, but it seemed like her parents had decided the situation was no threat. She was sure they were right. And even if they weren't, she didn't exactly have a choice. "Yes, mama." She said, dipping her head obediently. She put down her stitch work and walked over to the door.

She took a deep breath and only hesitated a moment before pulling open the door. "Hello?"
Suddenly, she was face to face with a man. A very handsome man. He had strong features and striking grey eyes. He stood at least a good half foot taller than her. A flush instantly turned her cheeks and ears pink, her mind momentarily losing track of what was happening. Oh, Lord she was staring! She blinked a few times and backed up. "I-I, I'm sorry, we don't get many visitors around here..." she quickly mumbled.

"Who is it?" She heard her father call from the room.

"A man!" She said back, hardly able to take her eyes off of him. It was so rare that she ever met someone not from her town- and this man certainly wasn't. Her hand went up to her shoulder to nervously twist her finger through the bottom of the braid she had put her hair in for the night, embarrassed. "C-can I help you?" She asked.
 
Jim had been directed to a farm house just outside the little town, down a single dirt path, and seemingly abandoned. At first, James thought he had been a victim of a little newcomer hazing, but as he approached the outside of the house he saw a flickering light from the inside and felt a small amount of relief. Kyle had apologized that he couldn't escort Jim down there personally, but there had to be someone to watch the saloon.

Jim tied Storm to a post and approached the house, a nervousness coming over him. He was never good socially, and these people are absolute strangers, hopefully that woukd let him stay, but strangers none the less. At the door, he could hear someone speaking inside, a deep, solid voice, and the bounty hunter spent a moment trying to figure out what the man was saying, but the wood of the house muffled the words into unintelligible murmuring. Jim felt bad about interrupting but it was cooling outside, and he wanted to rest. The sandy-haired man knocked, the voice stopping, and a silence fell over the farmhouse. James swallowed. Maybe this wasn't Mrs. Margaret's house. Jim prayed that wasn't the case.

After a long moment, the door created open and a young woman stood in front of him, blonde, blushing and- in Jim's opinion at least- rather cute. She stared at him for a long moment, Jim shifting uncomfortably before stuttering something about no visitors or something. A man called from further inside the house, the same voice Jim had heard reading, and the girl answered back, before turning back and asking if she could help him.

Jim pulled his hat off. "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Mrs. Margaret? The saloon keeper Kyle said she could help." He paused, and remembered his manners. "Apologies, my name's James Lynnith; call me Jim. I'm looking for a room for tonight."
 
Esther was making a fool out of herself she could tell. She was acting like a child and not a young woman- she should be ashamed of herself! She quickly pulled her hand away from her braid and stood up a little straighter. "Nice to meet you, Jim." She said. She could have guessed he was a traveler. She stuck out her hand for a hand shake with a smile. "My name's Esther Smith. Margaret is my mother."

Speak of the devil, her mother was coming up behind her to see what was going on. "A room, you said?" Her eyes carefully glances over the man. From time to time their family took travelers in, as a kindness. As her father quoted, "when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” Intact, Jack the cowhand had been a traveler who earned his keep and ended up never leaving. And this man certainly seemed respectable enough to house. But perhaps she was biased.

"Well, of course!" Mrs. Smith said. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Lynnith. Come on in. It's awful late, you must be exhausted!" She gently shuffled the man inside, closing the door behind him. In the living space her father had put the Bible down and gotten up from his chair. Now he stood with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. Esther had to hide her smile as the look on the traveler's face. He mother was rather... friendly. The pastor at church said she could make conversation with a loaf of bread. In the nicest way possible, of course.

"Howdy there." Her father finally spoke up with a wave. "The name's Johnathan Smith. Nice to make your acquaintance. Jim, was it?"

"Have you had anything to eat yet?" Her mother asked, cutting off her husband. "We already had dinner, but let me fix something up for you! Where are you from?" She was already getting supplies for porridge, not waiting for permission to make him food. Esther wasn't far behind, staying near the stranger, but not too near. She tried not to look to interested in him, or Lord forbid she forget herself and start staring. But she couldn't help it. She so rarely got to meet new people, especially around her age.
 
Esther was the one who greeted him and Jim smiled lightly as she introduced herself. A moment passed and the woman he had been sent to find- Margaret- appeared around the corner. She looked like the same friendly old lady Kyle had described, and after he was pulled in by the older woman, he couldn't help but smile at her kindness. It was rare that townsfolk so easily welcomed strangers like this, it was a blessing. The man- Esther's father and Mrs. Margaret's husband Jim assumed- introduced himself as Johnathan. He was burly man, weary of this newcomer, but seemingly just as friendly, if not a little reserved.

"Yes, sir, Jim." The bounty hunter found himself saying, standing awkwardly in the near-center of the room. Mrs. Margaret began talking again, paying her stand-offish husband no mind, and asking Jim something about food. He tried to tell her he had already eaten something at the saloon, but it was no use, and to be perfectly honest with himself, Jim was still a little hungry. He hadn't eaten properly since the last town and that was almost a week ago. A home-cooked meal would go a long way to restoring the wonderer's energy. He settled on answering the kind woman, glancing every so often at Esther who seemed to be trying to look busy. James had been in enough dangerous situations to know when he was being watched, even subtly. Part of him- the part that was constantly overrun by paranoia- didn't mind. Esther has said it herself- they didn't get a lot of visitors around there, and he was sure he stuck out like a sore thumb. Something about him rubbed people the wrong way sometimes, although he really didn't want any trouble.

"I'm from Savannah, Georgia ma'am. I'm on my way to Denver, just passed through the Tennessee border last week." Jim replied, remembering the criminal he had put away in Memphis the previous month. The guy had been slippery, but not quick enough and Jim had nabbed him before he could leave the state. Watching Mrs. Margaret move around the kitchen on his behalf, he felt somewhat guilty. "Ma'am is there any way I could help? I'm a fairly good cook, and I can clean anything if you need it." He was very appreciative of people's help, especially when they housed him, so he tried to help out as much as he could before he had to leave. A thought crossed his mind, and he snuck a peak at the pocket watch in his shirt pocket, making a note that he would have to leave earlier tomorrow than usual. He had seen a river on the town map in the saloon and it would be a good opportunity to was both himself and Storm, and his clothes. He knew the horse was wearing out and could use a rest. Jim was planning on taking a break soon anyway, may as well be in the next town.
 
"Savanah! My goodness, you are far away from home!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed. She had pulled some ingredients for porridge out and was putting them in a pot to warm them up. "And don't worry dear! It'll be done faster than flies to a cow chip! Sit sit!" The older woman motioned towards the table, pulling out a chair for him. She quickly fussed with the tablecloth, pulling at invisible wrinkles before adjusting the flowers in the small jar that served as a centerpiece. Esther had picked them this morning. So many beautiful things were blooming around the farm, it wasn't hard to find plenty to fill it.

"Mama, he just got in!" Esther argued lightly. Her mother was acting like he was a long lost family member or something. But he was still very much a stranger, and was probably feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

"Oh, hush, Esther!" Her mother said back, grabbing a large wooden spoon to stir the heated up porridge. "Why don't you sit down with him? Strike up a conversation!"

Esther blushed again, hesitating. It seemed a bit odd to sit at the table with a stranger. But her mother gave her another pointed look, and she plopped down in the chair, avoiding looking at their guest. She scooted her chair a bit so it wasn't so close. Then she peaked back over to the man. Strike up a conversation, huh?

"So... what brings you 'round these parts? Why are you so far from home?"
 
It had been quite a while since Jim had had someone fuss over him like this; it was nice, if he was being honest with himself. Still, he felt bad about not being able to help at all. The bounty hunter made a mental note to see if there was any kind of outside work he could help with before he was to leave in the morning. Mrs. Margaret hurried around the kitchen, the smell of porridge quickly wafting through the air, making Jim's stomach growl. It had been a long day.

Esther sat across from him, breaking his train of thought, and drawing his attention back to her. He had to take a moment to remind himself that he was in town for a visit, not a stay.

"I'm just passin' through." Jim said, relaxing a little in his chair. He placed his cap on his knee, and looked up at the woman across from him. "I travel for work, and a friend of mine sent for me in Denver, so I'm just making my way there." Distantly, Jim felt a little bad. He wasn't lying per se, but he wasn't telling the whole truth either. He hadn't been in Savannah since his wife died 4 years ago, doing everything he could to avoid Georgia all together, but he had actually been sent for. The sheriff up there was an old friend of his, and had been having some trouble with bandits, and wanted Jim's help.

He was trying to make a direct path there, but he had to help where he can, and so he had been rounding up Wanted Folk as he went. It may have put him behind a couple weeks, but Steve would understand.

"So how'd you folks end up in Ranger?" Jim asked, shaking off the thoughts of Georgia, and going for a question of his own. Ranger was a newer town, at least to his knowledge and there was almost nothing out here. He supposed it could be because of the farmland, but Esther and her family seemed to be the only farm around.
 
Esther listened to their guest with wide-eyed interest. He traveled! That would explain why he had stopped in such a small town like Ranger. And he was going all the way to Denver! She was sure he had seen more of the world in a couple of days than she had ever seen in her life. She had never been out of town since they settled in, let alone out of the state. She was all at once incredibly jealous of him. How wonderful would it be to roam so freely? To have nothing but a horse, the clothes on your back, and whatever you could carry. It sounded so exciting!

"So how'd you folks end up in ranger?" Jim asked, pulling her from her thoughts. Esther looked up at her mother, seeing if she wanted to answer. But she was busy cooking now, and her father had gone back to his bible.

"We moved to the farm when I was just a little'un." She explained. "Indians had attacked some of our neighbors and stole some of our cattle in our old town. It wasn't safe to live there any more, so we moved here." She gestured around herself to the home. "Good ol' Ranger." She sighed. Her elbows landed on the table, and her chin rested unenthusiastically in her hands. "Where the most exciting thing that happens is when the saloon gets a new door." She didn't know why on earth anyone like him would have any interest in learning about a family like them. They were boring as dirt. She supposed he was just trying to be polite, though.

"Porridge is done!" Her mother chirped happily, a large steaming bowl of it prepared. She had sprinkled oats and fruit on top to make it special. "Esther dear, don't slouch."

Esther did as her mother told her, sitting up straighter in her chair and removing her elbows from the table. Mrs. Smith placed the meal and a spoon in front of Jim, giving his shoulder a pat. "Well, with all your exploring, you must be exhausted! Feel free to stay as long as you want. We'd all love to hear some stories about your travel." Her gaze lifted to her daughter, giving her a pointed look. "Isn't that right, Esther?"

Esther blushed and crossed her arms. "Mama!" She scoffed, looking away. Honestly, she never stopped playing match maker did she? And this poor man was barely in there home an hour.

"What?" Mrs. Smith said innocently, going back to the kitchen to clean up. Thankfully, Mr. Smith was willing to help change the conversation.

"You read the Bible, Mr. Jim?" He asked from the couch.
 
Jim frowned at her response. It was a shame, having to dig up roots because you no longer felt safe; that was a feeling he understood perfectly well. That being said, he had had far less trouble with Indians on his travels than theses towns had, but it was still a shame. Esther's elbows landed on the table, her hands holding up a slightly irritated looking face. The sight sent a ring of amusement through the bounty hunter, and a small smirk tugged ever so slightly at his lips. She gave off the vibe that she hated it here, and honestly, not that he would say this out loud, he didn't blame her. Four years on the road, he would hate to end up in a place like this.

Quilt tugged at him. Now, that wasn't quite true was it? He would love to live in a place like this, but he would hate to live alone.

Mrs. Margaret placed the bowl in front of James, snapping him out of his thoughts, and replacing them with the feeling of hunger. The porridge looked delicious, better than anything he had eaten in months. The lady patted his shoulder and told him he could stay as he pleased. A nice gesture, but unnecessary. He supposed he did have a few interesting stories he could share if they wanted, but he didn't want to sound arrogant and talk forever.

"Thank you for the food ma'am, but I'll only be staying the night." Esther and her mother had a quick exchange that confused Jim slightly, leaving Esther blushing and Mrs. Margaret laughing, but he merely shrugged and began eating.

"You read the Bible, Mr. Jim?" The father finally spoke up, causing Jim to pause in his food. It wasn't just him talking, but it was also the question. James swallowed the porridge in his mouth and thought a moment.

"Well, I certainly used to, sir. But my job doesn't allow for much down time, nor a whole lot of religion." The truth was, doing anything remotely related to religion was hard for him. Grace had been the bible pusher of the family, and so now it was difficult to look at a bible without thinking of her. Visibly, he shrugged, looking nonchalant.
 
Esther could practically feel her father's frown. Everyone in their little community was a Christian. And while the traveler hadn't necessarily said he wasn't, he hadn't said he was, either. She knew her father wasn't a judgmental man- he wouldn't try to berate or antagonize their guest. But she could tell he wasn't completely pleased with his answer, either.

She felt bad for Jim- it was clear he was uncomfortable with the line of questioning, and he had a certain look of sadness about him. Like he had been missing something for a long time and didn't know how to get it back. She had seen that look on other strangers who had stayed in their home, too. Perhaps that was why he was roaming around so much. Denver was an awful long way from Savannah. Whatever he left behind there couldn't have been good. Even if he did have to travel for his work.

"What exactly is your job, Mr. Jim?" Her father asked. Esther looked between the two men. It was obvious their guest didn't want to talk about it- otherwise he wouldn't have been so general when he spoke about it the first time. She couldn't just let her nosy parents bully the poor man.

"Papa, I think Jim might be tired." Esther interjected. "It seems like he's had an awful long day... maybe I can show him to the guest room?" Jim didn't deserve to be interrogated like a criminal. He seemed like a perfectly kind gentleman. Her parents just didn't know where to stop- God love them. Thankfully, her father didn't push it, and her mother seemed to think it was a great idea. As soon as he was done with him meal, Esther pushed herself out of her chair and motioned for him to follow her up the stairs.

She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief once they were out of the view of her parents. She hoped Jim didn't think too poorly of them. It has been a while since the last time they had a guest in the house. Or seen anyone from out of town, really. Esther stopped in front of one of the doors down the hallway, and gently pushed it open. Inside was a cot, a small table, and an oil lamp. "Here ya are." She said. "Apologies, it's not much."
 
Jim knew, from the look on Mr. Smith's face that he didn't like Jim's answer about religion, and the bounty hunter was worried that he was about to get a stern talking to, but Esther cut in, saying something about Jim being tired, and the man had never been more thankful. Jim finished his meal quickly after that, feeling the awkward tension in the room, and thanked Mrs. Margaret for the porridge, and he was quickly escorted upstairs by Esther. He was reminded, although briefly, of his younger years when he and some of his friends ran around, going from city to city and laying as many women as they could. That had been 10 years ago, and Jim was different now, and just as quickly as the memory came over him, it was gone, leaving only the barest hints of nostalgia. He was thankful those days were over, he was thankful he had met Grace.

Esther visibly relaxed when they were out of sight and earshot of the parents, and Jim felt a small spark of amusement. They were kind people, and he knew they meant well. He had quite enjoyed the familial chatter and pushiness of a mother and father. It was something he missed. The blonde woman stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a small, bare room, but a room none the less. Esther voiced as much. Jim turned to her, almost grinning.

"Thank you so much, it's been aged since I've slept in a bed." Jim entered the room, setting his small sack down and looked around, unbuttoning his shirt, not thinking twice about the company. He had been on the road so long he had more or less forgotten manners, and many people had taken to called him 'crude and civilized', not that he minded (or, frankly, cared). "Esther, is there anything I can do to help around the house? Any kind of work? I have to repay y'all somehow."
 
Though the room wasn't much, Esther was glad that Jim seemed genuinely grateful. It was the least they could offer. She couldn't imagine going so long without a proper night's sleep. It seemed he would be rather comfortable- too comfortable. Esther gasped and blushed as he started undoing his shirt, her eyes dashing away from him to preserve his modesty. Why was he undressing in front on her? Perhaps he had simply forgotten himself- he said it had been a while since he had slept in a proper bed. Maybe he wasn't used to be around others- especially farm girls like her.

"Esther, is there anything I can do to help around the house? Any kind of work? I have to repay y'all somehow." He asked. What was he saying? Something about house work. She was a little distracted, trying to avoid looking at him.

"Umm... er..." she cleared her throat. Think, Esther! She was acting like a child. "W-well, I don't think Mama and Papa are lookin' for any kind of repayment." She said. They took in travelers enough, and her father said they'd be rewarded in heaven and that was good enough for him. But maybe they wouldn't mind some help, if he were offering. And she wouldn't mind him sticking around, if she were honest. He was the most interesting that had happened all week. She wanted to hear some of his traveling stories.

"But... maybe you could help Jack with the cattle in the morning? Sometimes his hands get awful full with it, and Papa just bought some more stock the other day. Or something." She shrugged, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wooden frame of the door as she picked at the chipping paint. "I-I'm sure we could find something if your itching to work. We've always got plenty to do here." She let her eyes flick to him for a moment to give him a brief smile, before turning back to the paint.
 
"But... maybe you could help Jack with the cattle in the morning? Sometimes his hands get awful full with it, and Papa just bought some more stock the other day. Or something." Esther replied, still not looking at the other. Jim noticed her blushing and avoiding eye contact, but couldn't figure out why, so he left it alone. Shrugging to himself, he pulled his pistol belt off and sat to clean the twin guns, and pulled the hunting knife and sat it on his things. He figured he might as well clean them before he headed out tomorrow. The lady continued, saying something about 'plenty to do here' before shooting him a smile and falling quiet.

"I would love to help with the cattle in the morning. I was hired to help rescue a few lost heard members a few months ago. Two calves and a bull had been stolen by a rival of the owner's. It was messy." In truth, Jim had grown up in Savannah, helping man the docks and worked on ships; up until he started traveling farm work hadn't been his thing. But true to form, James was a quick learner and after a year of travel he had the whole 'farm hand' thing down. He nodded absently, reminiscing for only a moment before pulling himself from his thoughts. He turned back to Esther and stood, realizing the time. "Thank you for the food and shelter. I'll be sure to be up and ready in the morning. Good night."

The bounty hunter clasped the woman's hand in a half hand shake before closing the door, and returning to his weapons. He stared at the glinting metal for a moment, thinking. Esther was beautiful. He wished he could stay longer to get to know her a little. A part of him wished she would accompany him on his travels, even if it was only a few months. It had been a while since he had had a traveling companion, his last one having found someone to settle down with. James had traveled with others, but that only usually lasted a few days- a couple weeks max- and then he was off on his own again.

The man shook his head and picked up the guns. He could feel lonely another time, now was the time for cleaning and sleep.
 
Esther smiled again as Jim accepted the work. Good. He wouldn’t be gone first thing in the morning, and maybe she would have a chance to get to know him better. If Papa didn’t load her down with chores, of course. But she was sure he wouldn't mind her helping him with the cattle, right? She would have plenty of time to do her other chores. But she might not have much time to talk to interesting strangers who did nondescript “work.”

He gave her a handshake, and she bid him goodnight as well. She was sure he had to be tired after a long day. One the door was shut, she gave a little sigh, biting her lip. Right. She wasn’t going to get anywhere daydreaming. It was late, and it was probably time she got some rest, too.

She went back downstairs, trying to be quiet now that things were settling down. Her mother was washing the used dishes in the kitchen, and her father had fallen asleep in his arm chair, like he occasionally did. Usually when he did, they just left him there until morning. No reason to wake him up. “Hey, Mama, I think I’m gonna head up to bed.” Esther said, yawning. Her mother nodded and smiled.

“Alright, Esther. It’s getting pretty late. You almost had me worried with how much time you spent of there! A couple more minutes and I would have had to come up there. You know it ain’t right for two young people to be alone at this hour…”

“Goodnight, Mama.” Esther said embarrassedly, doing her best not to roll her eyes. Honestly her parent’s got the strangest notions. She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then headed back upstairs to her room. She changed into her night gown and settled in, Her mind drifting as soon as her head hit the pillow. Tomorrow would be interesting. She would learn more about the stranger in their house, and maybe break up some of the monotony that had been ruling their lives for so long.

It was the middle of the night when she was woken up by shouting. Loud, angry shouting. It was her father’s voice, and two other men’s voices she didn’t recognize.She shot up in bed, her face going white. He mind raced smile a minute, sudden dread washing over her. What was going on? Why were there people in the house? She barely had time to even ponder what the answer to those questions when her thoughts were interrupted.

A gun shot.

Esther bolted out of bed, running to the door.

“Esther!” He mother shrieked, running to her daughter. She was just coming up the stairs, her eyes wild with panic. Down stairs, Esther heard a crash, and stomping footsteps. “Don’t!” She captured her daughter in her arms, preventing her from looking down the stairs. “Get back in your room, quick!”

“Well, lookie what we have here!”

Esther’s blood went cold as a man came clattering up the stairs. He looked like he hadn’t been bathed in months. His hair was stringy and matted under his hat, and his shirt and pants were torn and stained. When he sneered she could see his teeth were yellow and crooked, and many of them were missing. But it was his eyes that scared her most. They were filled with a cold flame- like the devil himself had crawled inside and killed everything.

Her mother stood in front of her, her arm out protectively. The man didn't seem worried or intimidated in the least though, and just twirled his gun in his hand. “Looks like they got a daughter!” The man called down, which resulted in a cheerful hoot from another man downstairs.There had to be at least three of them. She couldn't hear her father any more. She swallowed thickly.

“Is she decent looking?” The voice called from downstairs. Another crash. “You better let me have a turn!”

“You stay the hell away from my daughter!” Her mother shouted, though Esther could feel her shaking with fear.

“Oh, shut up.” The man lifted his gun and shot.

Esther screamed as she was splattered in red blood, her mother collapsing in a heap in front of her. She couldn’t even hear the thud- the ringing in her ears was too loud. She couldn’t even breathe, let alone move. All she could feel was the warm, red liquid that rolled down her cheek.

Then suddenly the world snapped back into focus as a hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked. “Yer coming with me, missie.” The criminal laughed. “Betcha anything you’re a virgin, aint ya? No reason we can’t have a lil fun before we go.”

He gave another yank, causing her to lose her balance as she was dragged down the hallway, back towards her bedroom. Fear coated her throat and mouth with a metallic sting, and suddenly she was writhing and fighting against the arms that were holding onto her, screaming for someone- anyone to help.
 
The gun shot woke James, startling him from a dreamless- very peaceful sleep. He was immediately annoyed, wondering what dumb, gun slingin' idiot had come into the middle of the desert to fight indians. Then he remembered, remembered the bar, the house, Mrs. Margaret and Esther, and the bounty hunter shot up, panic washing over him. The man dove for his guns, loading them when he heard Mrs. Margaret.

"You stay the hell away from my daughter!" Cold rushed into Jim's veins. Whoever it was, they had already shot someone, and from the sounds of it, given that Mrs. Margaret was still talking, and she was defending Esther, it had been Mr. Smith. Cocking the pistols, Jim crept over to the door, and cracked it open just in time to Mrs. Margaret fall to a bullet, coating Esther's face with her blood. James' heart stopped, and he could imagine that his face mirrored the other's; shock and disbelief with a touch of fear. The man lunged for Esther, taking advantage of her shocked stupor and grabbed the lady by the hair, dragging her towards Jim, towards one of the other bedrooms.

"Betcha anything you’re a virgin, aint ya? No reason we can’t have a lil fun before we go." The man sneered, a disgusting sound, to match his hideous exterior. James couldn't see his face, but something told him he was ugly. A crash came from downstairs, and Jim realized there must be more than just this guy. Thinking quickly, the bounty hunter crouched, holstering his pistols and waited for the guy to approach, Esther struggling with all her might. Finally, the man was in range and James yanked the door open and grabbed the man by his head, yanking him into the bounty hunter's room and quickly and quietly snapped his neck. Just as quickly, he grabbed Esther, and wrapped a hand around her mouth, turning her to face him. He needed her to be level headed, just for the next moments, until he could get all the men downstairs.

"Hey, hey, shh, it's me." James lowered his voice, and pulled her in for a hug, shushing her. He took a moment, so she could get her mind together before he pulled back and whispered, using his most soothing voice. "Hey, listen, first, are you okay?" He pushed her loose hair behind her ears, keeping her face cupped in his hands, making sure she was focused on him and not the dead body just below.
 
The pressure on her hair was suddenly lifted with another yank, this time causing her to crumble too the floor. She was still hyperventilating, too panicked to even register her attacker, let alone his disappearance. All she could hear was the gunshots ringing in her ears- the sight of her nothing collapsing playing over and over in her mind. And the blood-

A hand wrapped around her face, and she screamed again, sure her attacker had come back for her. She kicked and shouted as she was pulled backwards again, tears streaming down her cheeks. But the arms holding her were stronger than she was, and they turned her around.

Jim. It was Jim! A wave of relief swept over her, her screams halting. She had completely forgotten he was here. He hushed her and pulled her into his arms, and she sunk into his chest, everyone in her falling apart at once. Tears were streaming down her face now and she choked on a sob against his shoulder. Thank the Lord he was with them. Or… her. Was there even a them anymore?

Jim pulled away to get a look at her face, and that was when she noticed the intruder’s body laying beside them on the floor. His eyes were now blank and stared off into the distance, his neck at an unnatural angle. He was dead, too. Just like that- life was gone. Somehow she couldn’t muster any sympathy for him.

Her attention was brought back to Jim as he cupped either side of her face, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Hey, listen, first, are you okay?” He asked, concern in his eyes. She blinked, at the question, unsure.

“I-I… I don’t know.” She said, shaking her head. Her fingers curled into his shoulders. She tried to think about what he was asking. He had to know she was anything but okay right now- but she was sure his concerns were more immediate. He was asking about injuries, right? “I-I not h-hurt.” She said. At least, she didn't think she was. “But… Mama and Papa…” They were hurt. Hurt bad. Maybe even dead. Her hand flew to her mouth as she choked back another sob, horrified at what might have become of her parents.
 
"Okay, okay, shhh." At least she wasn't hurt, that his main concern. There was no possibility Esther's parents were still alive, Jim had just seen Mrs. Margaret get shot, he had a feeling the same had happened to Mr. Smith. He pulled Esther in for a quick hug, thinking. The man- the one dead at Jim's feet- had shouted downstairs to his friends, which meant there was there was at least one, probably more downstairs. "Esther, look at me." He pulled her back. "Is there a back room, or a back staircase in this house, or someway to see who's downstairs?" He stood and grabbed his hunting knife, pushing it into her hands before turning back to his things and shoving them into his bag.

"We need to get out of here." Jim looked out the window and saw his horse, Storm, awake and seemingly agitated, pulling against his reins, trying to get out. If he could get downstairs he could get the two of them back into town and to the saloon. The bar keep was armed, most all of them were given that it was rather foolish not to be. Kyle would give them shelter. But what would Esther do?

James shook his head. He couldn't worry about that now. He turned back to her, and his heart broke again at her tear-streaked face. "Esther, I need you to grab a bag as well. We need to get out of here." Usually Jim would stay and fight, he was no coward, but usually he was alone. Esther seemed like she could handle herself on the normal, but she was in shock and bother her parents were more than likely dead. A couple yells came from downstairs, someone yelling for the guy who now lay glassy-eyed in the floor. Jim clenched his jaw and pulled Esther by her arm. "We have to hurry."
 
"We need to get out of here."

Esther held on tight to the knife Jim had handed her, trying to process what he was saying. He wanted to leave? He was asking about a back way to get out. For them to escape and not get caught by the men still down stairs. Normally she would follow whatever the traveler had to say, sure that he would know better than her what to do in a situation like this. But she couldn't forget about her parents. What if they were still alive? Would he just leave them?

His hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her up from her crumpled position on the floor. He had asked about a way to escape. She tried her best to focus. "There's a window at the end of the hall- and a tree right outside. We could... we could climb out the window and down the tree." She explained. But it wasn't right. It wasn't even remotely right. He was going to take her away from her parents. He wasn't going to try to save them if he could. They couldn't be dead- she knew they couldn't! There had to be some way she could save them. Her mind and heart couldn't accept any other option.

She yanked her arm out of his grasp, bolting for the door. "We can't leave without them!" She said. In the hall, her mother still lay in a bloody heap. Esther fell to her knees beside her, dropping the knife and holding either side of her face in her hands. "Oh, Mama!" She wept. The man had shot her in the chest. The blood has blossomed like a flower on her white sleeping tunic. Her eyes stared sightless into the sky and her chest didn't rise or fall. "No no no!" Esther shook her head, unable to accept that her mother could be dead. Not like this.
She barely registered the stomping that came up the steps. Two men, just as ugly as the first, one holding a pistol and the other carrying a large hunting knife. "You little bitch!" Growled one of the men.

"Stay away!" Esther hissed back, brandishing the knife Jim had given her in her hand. She wouldn't let these men take her Mama!
 
He knew the wild look in her eyes, the desperate need, the savage protectiveness. The stubborn need to hold on. He supposed he had looked that way so many years ago, cradling Grace's cooling body. He found himself shocked still for a moment, pain flooding his veins as his mind's eye flashed back to that night.

"Stay away!" Her snarl pulled him from his thoughts and the bounty hunter sprung into action. He peaked around the corner, and saw two men with their backs turned, moving towards Esther, who was crouched in an animalistic form over her mother's corpse. James' heart broke a little for her. He was a somewhat uptight person, but he would be dammed if he was called heartless. James stepped into the hallway, squaring his shoulders and towering over the two men. He was taller than most, and at that moment his height came to an advantage. The two men jumped back, startled, and with that, James jumped into action.

The bounty hunter dropped ever so slightly, and thrust his hand upwards against the other's gun, dislodging it and kicking it down the stairs. He kicked the other in the chest and slammed a fist into the first, knocking them both away. He grabbed Esther's hand, and tugged her away and down the stairs, snatching his bag from the open door. He didn't want to be rough with her, she was howling for her mother and James wished with his whole being that he could make it better, but alas.

He shoved the sobbing woman onto Storm, who stilled for Esther, as though sensing the situation, and after unhooking the lead from the post, he jumped onto the stallion and they raced off. Esther was sat in front of him, and the bounty hunter was trying not to be in her personal space, but he had to hold her to keep her on the animal. She seemed a little occupied with crying to notice, but Jim was trying to be a gentleman.
 
One moment Esther was prepared to fight and claw her way through the men who threatened her, and the next everything was moving in flashes. She was still huddled over her mother's body, but she was no longer alone. She could barely see past the burning tears in her eyes, and could barely hear past the roaring in her ears, but she watched as Jim fought against the men, his movements fluid from years of experience. She buried her face in her mother's dress, clinging on to her as if she could comfort Esther back. She didn't care if she got more blood on herself. She needed her mother.

Then something strong as iron grabbed hold of her hand and yanked her away. Her eyes shot open as her body was jerked, her steps stumbling to catch up. "No! Mama!" She gasped with a sob, but she didn't have the strength to pull her hand away.

Another scream was strangled in her throat as they bolted down the stairs, and she saw another body crumpled and bloody on the floor. "Papa!" She wanted to shout, to shriek, to collapse. But the sounds were stuck in her closing throat, her voice already raw. The hand that held her didn't let go or slow, and her father was cut off from her view as she was dragged past the door.

She almost tripped down the steps of the porch by the time she turned forward again, and she saw that Jim was dragging her towards a horse. His horse. She was numb as he grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her onto the mount. She vaguely heard the sounds of yelling and stomping inside the house, and she knew the men weren't far behind. She felt a jolt as Jim swung himself into the saddle behind her, an arm going around her middle to keep her in place. One snap of the lead and they were off, the horse riding as fast as the wind that whipped around them. Gunfire zipped in the dirt behind them.

With the steady pound of hoofbeats beneath them, Esther looped her arms around her savior, sinking into the solid wall of his chest. She could barely breath as she heaved another sob, her cheeks already soaked with tears. She couldn't care less where they were going. She couldn't get the images of her parents out of her mind. Their bodies twisted at odd angles. Blood staining the wood beneath them. Eyes open and staring into nothing. Dead. Gone. In just minutes, her entire life was ripped away from her.

She wasn't sure how long they rode. It had to be at least an hour- maybe more. Her cries eventually quieted to sniffling and then silence. She had poured out everything in her and now she was empty, a shell. She never loosened her grip on the bounty hunter, and her cheek stayed pressed beside his heart. Her breathing slowed to match his. He was the only calm in her storm. She feared if she let go she would just drift away. She'd be dragged off into nothingness with her parents.
 
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