Showdown in Devil's Valley (for RussianBunny)

[Renton]

Ritt nodded. "A gun this small doesn't pack much doing power, but that'd make anyone think twice about continuing after you," he said. "Especially when they realize you have two shots with this thing. Go ahead and try again, you need practice to get better. Maybe later I can let you graduate to solve other weapons, like my rifle." Ritt kept a number of guns, as a bounty hunter might. He was really protective of his shiny Schofield revolver, a beautiful bright silver gun that he'd had for more than ten years now. It was this gun that Lottie had tried to use on her cat-hating neighbor when she was younger. But Ritt was happy to let her learn his other weapons, which included a repeating rifle, a long rifle, and a double barrel shotgun.

When they were doing practicing, however, it occurred to Ritt that perhaps the nature of his line of work had never been disclosed to his niece. As they walked back to his home, he asked her. "This might seem a bit odd to ask, but did your Pa ever tell you what I do for a living?"

Rather than wait, he had out with it. "I'm a bounty hunter. I track down fugitive criminals and bring them in. Often so your Pa can deal with 'em." He neglected to say that he had killed many criminals in his line of work, but he figured Lottie was bright enough to figure that out herself. Most wanted posters said "dead or alive", and many criminals refused to go quietly.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lottie nodded a little at her uncle's words, not entirely sure she wanted to even shoot more than this small gun. It was a nice size for her, and hopefully he would be right: people would leave her alone if they crossed her. Steadying herself again, she aimed for the dummy once more and fired, this time nicking him in the middle of his collar-bone area. He had her shoot a few more bullets - she eventually managed to get it to where a "kill shot" would be - before they started back to the house.

"No," she answered honestly, with a shake of her head, just before Everitt came out with the information. "You're a bounty hunter?" she asked quietly. Huh, that was interesting information. She had figured he was a travelling salesman or something equally as bizarre, since her father had never liked talking about his brother's jobs (and had always changed the subject whenever asked). She could also guess, by how scarred up his face was, that he had probably - definitely - killed some people in his time.

He was also clearly good at his job, if he was still alive.

"Are you still going to be working while I'm with you?" she asked, more curious than anything. She didn't want him to give up a job, if it meant taking care of her, after all. That would be unfortunate.

[Renton]

Ritt observed Lottie's reaction and was pleased, at least, that she wasn't disturbed by this information. He could imagine meeting her uncle after seven years gone and finding out his living had often involved killing could upset her. Then again, given her father's line of work, his wasn't really all to far removed from it.

"I've been giving that question a lot of thought. I spend very little, so I have plenty enough money to live on for a while yet," he said. Then he sighed. In truth, he wasn't in this job for the money. He was in it because it was what he was good at, and frankly, he enjoyed it. The adventure. The travel. The tension of every single encounter with a criminal. But, well, his family was more important.

"I have a couple jobs I would like to wrap up before settling in as long as this thing with the Calloways blows over. Nothing far away, nothing that would necessitate that I spend more than a night or two away from my home. Speaking of which, you can identify yourself as my niece while you're here. The only people in town who know your Pa is my brother are the handful I'd trust with my life. Just don't mention who your daddy is. It might blow your cover."

He took a deep breath before getting to the part he figured Lottie wouldn't care for. "I have a job I need to get done tonight. It's a long story, but I owe a friend a favor. And I'll need you to stay here. I'll likely be back by tomorrow night, maybe the morning after that. You'll be safe here. I have friends in town with eyes on this house. Any trouble and they'll come ready to help. I just... I can't bring you on my jobs. Not yet. Is that all right with you?"

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lottie nodded a little, feeling slightly guilty about putting her uncle into a semi-unemployment until she could go back home. She could understand why he wouldn't want her to mention who her father was (it was a simple enough thing to understand, after all), but it was nice enough that she didn't have to entirely lie about her identity.

"I'll be careful," she said honestly. "I won't say anything."

She sighed, feeling a little anxious about being stuck by herself in a town that she barely knew, before she added, "Are you sure I can't come with you?"

[Renton]

Ritt nodded. "Have a seat and I'll fix some coffee and tell you the story," he said, standing up to out some wood on the stove. As he prepared the coffee, he told Lottie the specifics of this bounty. Three years ago his close friend and former work partner Hoke Earky had been shot and killed by a robber named Jack Hicks. Hicks was never tried for the crime, but had been laying low in Arizona ever since. Now word was that Hicks was in one of the neighboring towns.

"Hicks is to dangerous for me to put you close to him," he said, portion a mug of coffee. "Want a cup? I have sugar and some fresh milk. Anyway, I hope you understand why I have to do this. He killed my best friend. I owe him."

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lottie had kept herself quiet as they went back into the house, only nodded a little when her uncle had offered her coffee (and putting a little bit of milk and sugar into it), and she listened intently as he went into his explanation as to why he was hunting down Jack Hicks. To be honest, she hadn't considered that he would be hunting someone on behalf of a friend's memory: she had assumed it would be for money instead.

"I understand," she said, nodding a little, still not liking being left being behind one bit, regardless of the circumstances. "I just hope you get back safe." After all, both of them would be S-O-L if he was injured or maimed or killed during his journey.

[Renton]

Ritt was surprised but pleased with Lottie's understanding. He truly wished it hadn't come to this, but this was one job he felt he couldn't decline. And he was certain that Lottie would be safe for a day by herself. His brother had been very careful in making the arrangements, and it wasn't as if Lottie was someone anyone would recognize, least of all outside of her home town.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said. "I'll leave after dark. Don't you worry, I will not take long. Use the time to get to know the townfolk. I think you'll like the people here. They're good people."

Before supper, Ritt gave Lottie the full tour of the house, letting her know where everything she'd need for the time he was gone was. He then fixed a supper of beans, eggs and chicken (he had his coop for more than just eggs) and went out on the back porch to smoke his pipe. "I do quite like the view," he said to Lottie, motioning toward the sunset with his pipe. "Main reason I got this property." The view of the sunset was largely unobstructed and cut a wide vista of orange and purple.

That night, after Lottie went upstairs, he gathered his belongings (enough food and water for three days, his rifle, a change of clothes, and his bedroll. He packed them onto his main horse, a gray stallion named Pico. He scibbled a note for Lottie. "Feel free to take the mare and wagon into town. Here's a little something to treat yourself with." He left the note on the table with three dollars on it, quite a bit for her to have fun with over a day or two. He knew her father intended to provide for her during her stay at his place, but he figured the money would be a nice gesture. The same went for the wagon and the mare driving it, Old Betsy. Old Betsy was a sweet old horse and even a child could drive her. He had no worries that Lottie could handle her, and it made going into the town square much easier. He still felt a bit bad about that spanking seven years ago, damn it, and he felt worse that his niece was in this situation. Technically, the Calloways wanted him dead too, but he was well-verse in the ways of battling outlaws.

The night sky filled overflowing with stars, he headed out.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lottie remained quiet for a majority of the evening: not because she was much of a quiet person, but she was a little nervous about her uncle leaving so suddenly - and because she was still trying to get a feel for his nature. Her father hadn't been bothered by her chattering, as long as it wasn't too bratty, but some men preferred the quiet and found chatter - even kind chatter - to be bothersome. Supper hadn't been too bad - she would need to make a note to collect some supplies for the rest of the week, especially if he was gone longer than expected - and Ritt was correct: the view across the back porch was very beautiful.

Lottie herself didn't rise until the sun started peeking through the loft window, and when she checked her pocketwatch (7:16am), she decided it was best to get up and get ready for the day. She washed quickly, using the tiny wash basin in the corner of the loft and some soap she'd brought with her from home; she re-dressed and went downstairs to search for something to cook when she noticed two tiny children retrieving eggs from the coops. (When they saw her through the window, they waved, and she waved back.)

It wasn't until after she had cooked more scrambled eggs and some cornmeal for breakfast when she noticed the money her uncle had left. To be honest, she was surprised. Her father had given her fifteen dollars, all in ones, before she'd left, and he'd promised to send her five dollars every three weeks until she'd returned, since she could no longer hold her library bookkeeping job at home. (She had made more than that, of course, but she was not going to complain in the slightest.) Still, the gesture in itself was more than enough for Lottie, and she made a note to thank him once he returned.

The two children had left six eggs in a basket on the front porch when Lottie opened the door to exit the house, her skirt pocket hiding the three dollars. (She recalled Riff mentioning that he owned nine chickens, so they probably took some for leverage, which was fine.) She put them away before leaving the basket next to the porch step, in case they would use it again tomorrow or the day after. She checked the chickens to make sure they had been fed (and they had), before she went to the barn to see Old Betsy, who was indeed quite sweet.

There was enough food in the kitchen to last her until the next day, if not longer, so the wagon wouldn't be necessary, since Lottie planned on going into town again tomorrow. So she carefully rode on Old Betsy (Ritt had a side-saddle in the barn, which was amusing but also convenient) back into town, hoping that her uncle was fine... wherever he was, and her father would be alright as well.

[Renton]

It took Ritt all night and most of the day to reach his destination. He made camp in the early morning to get a bit of sleep, but sleep was hard to come by. When he arrived in the dusty little village where Jack Hicks was hiding out, the streets began to clear. It seemed his arrival was known. Sure enough, Hicks emerged with two friends in tow in a clearing in the street. "Come alone, Bolding?" he said. "Figured as much. Stupid move too. I heard about the Calloway bounty. I intend to collect, on your head, and your niece, wherever she's hiding out."

Ritt spat. "You done?" he said.

"Oh, we're only just..."

BANG

Before Hicks finished, Ritt pulled out his revolver and shot Hicks in the chest. He fell dead as his two bodyguards reached desperately for their weapons. Before they could draw, Ritt shot them both dead. He never left his horse.

"Goddamnit," he muttered. He had hoped to bring Hicks in alive, but the moment he mentioned the Calloway bounty, he figured that was no longer safe. The town sheriff came out, his rifle drawn. "I know that was Jack Hicks, so I won't arrest you. I'm guessing you're a bounty hunter," the sheriff said. "That's right," Ritt said, climbing off his horse. "Those fellas with him, they the only ones?"

"Yeah, I reckon," the sheriff said. "Who are you?" That was good enough for Ritt to think his identity was safe again. "No matter to you," he said. "Feel free to bury them all. Claim the bounty. I didn't come here for the money."

Ritt also didn't want to subject Lottie to the sight of him coming home with a body in tow. He walked up to the town's coffinmaker. "Three coffins," he said, tossing him some coin.

His job done, he got on his horse to go back home.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Back in town, it was around nine in the morning when Lottie arrived atop Old Betsy into the middle of the square. The weather was beautiful, and the few people she passed at nine in the morning gave polite waves when she passed (and she made sure to return the gesture). Everything that passed Lottie's eye made her feel a little more comfortable about remaining here for... well, however long she was meant to be there.

The librarian who ran everything inside of the surprisingly packed library reminded her of the elderly woman back at her job, and it felt good to be somewhere familiar once again. (She also made sure to sign up for a library account, since she had a feeling she would be spending a great deal of time there.) The couple who ran the mercantile was very kind, and Lottie made sure to check out the stock of everything and took note of what to get the next day when she would buy supplies.

The afternoon had been wonderful, of course, until she passed by a young man who had decided it was appropriate to try and grab her bottom, and she had reacted poorly and tried to throw a punch. Of course, such a thing would happen outside of the sheriff's department, and she would have accidentally punched the one of the son of the mercantile workers. The sheriff had been quick to let the young man go: he had a black eye for his trouble, and apparently, his mother would take care of it in a more terrifying way than the sheriff could. (Lottie also had a sneaking suspicion that the sheriff might have credit at the mercantile.)

When Lottie told the sheriff that Riff was her uncle and she was staying with him, something seemed to go off in the sheriff's mind. He explained quickly that he knew she was staying with Ritt, but - to avoid making it look like he was letting her off - he said he needed her to stay with him and the deputy until Ritt returned.

It's been less than a day, and I've already caused problems, Lottie thought to herself.