Little Sharpshooter

Little Sharpshooter Chap 13

The change in town was instantaneous. Everyone’s eyes followed her down the street. Some people shook her hand, some stared, and others looked at her in disgust. Entering the boarding house was a relief. Randy left Trevor behind heading up the stairs to their room while he visited with the man behind the counter.

Randy stashed Bronson’s money in her saddle bag where he would find it easily if he came looking. The memory of the day when she was almost fifteen in the unfamiliar town with Bronson came flooding back. It wasn’t long after she won the marksman contest in her hometown. She knew she had skill and thought it was fun to beat all the cocky men in the contest.

But then one of the men she beat cornered her when Bronson was in the saloon drinking away his winnings. Completely drunk, Bronson got in a fight trying to protect her. When she showed up at home, she had blood splattered on her clothes. Bronson’s eye was swollen shut, and his fists were a mess. The fight between Pa and Bronson was bigger and louder than the one in the saloon. It took her a long time to forget about it. She always felt it was somehow her fault. Now she knew better. Randy took off her holster and tucked it away under the saddle. Randy didn’t want to wear an excuse for another contest that day. All she wanted was to spend some time with Al. But he was going to have to wait. She headed down the stairs to Trevor.

Bronson celebrated with them at the nicest restaurant in town. Randy was aware of the watching and the whispering. Silver City was bigger than most towns but word spread fast.

“I hear you can do some pretty fancy tricks with a pistol, little girl,” an older man said when he stopped at their table.

Randy nodded politely. “Yes, sir,” she said softly.

“I’d say she’s more of a marksman,” Bronson chimed in.

“When she’s a man, she can be a marksman.” The old man fumed as he walked away.

Bronson shrugged and went back to eating.

Randy’s chair was as close to Trevor’s as she could get it with her knee pressed against his. She did her best not to bounce it while she studied the table.

“I think we should head north and hit every big city. I hear Virginia City, Nevada is booming. That would be a great place to put on a show. That is if we run out of money and need to of course.” Bronson droned on and on.

Randy glanced up and Trevor. He was taking it all in. She pushed her food around on her plate, smiling politely as they laughed.  Bronson dreamed up more schemes.

He took them to the saloon next. “Boy, did your pa ever take you for a stiff drink?”

“He died, sir, when I was seven.”

“Well, now I see why you two get on so well. A stiff drink will put some hair on that chest of yours and make you a man. Come on, Randy.”

Randy reluctantly followed them into the saloon.

“That young lady needs to leave,” the bartender shouted over the men when Randy stepped in.

Her face flushed.

“Now this here girl just out shot almost every man in this here saloon today. I think she earned her place.”

“No respectable young lady should be here. Do you see any respectable ladies here? The only ones here are earnin’ a buck to pay their boardin’ at the brothel.”

Randy scanned the room. Ladies with curled up hair and revealing clothes clung to men at the tables or at the bar. She stepped backwards out the door.

“Bronson, I’m fine. I’ll go check on my horse. I’ve been wantin’ to spend time with him all day.”

Just before she stepped out the swinging doors the rest of the way, one of the younger women trailed her hand over Trevor’s shoulder. Bronson promptly removed her hand and led her to the bar to sit beside him grabbing a hold of Trevor by the shirt when he took a step in Randy’s direction. Bronson didn’t care what Randy did.