Sagebrush Crossing

The Marshal's face didn't change.

"Funny. The last person that told me that got his throat slit."

Sagebrush Crossing

"Sorry to inconvenience you." Charlotte flounced past Jed, patting his shoulder on her way to the bar stool on the other side.

To the Marshal she said, "I'll avoid that, thanks. The last time someone tried to slit my throat, they ended up flat on the ground." She smiled sweetly again. "If you so much as touch that knife of yours, I'm not sure I'll be able to restrain myself."

Sagebrush Crossing

The Marshal sat down and put her feet up on the chair next to Charlotte.

"I didn't slit his throat. And for the record, he was a very, very good fighter. Much better than you."

Sagebrush Crossing

Charlotte grabbed a toothpick from a nearby canister and chewed on it in thought. "Not so sure about that, Marshal. I doubt you want to meet the Thunderstick anytime soon. Might blast your head off, and then where would we be?"

Sagebrush Crossing

The Marshal merely rolled her eyes and turned to face Jed.

"How long has she been like it, and is there any chance of recovery without a hard dose of reality?"

Sagebrush Crossing

"She was four, the first time she thought she could out-shoot me. I think." Jed shrugged, as if he had given up. "She still can't. What are we going to do with her, Marshal?"

"Here's your drinks! And a Pint for you, Jed."

Sagebrush Crossing

"I'm definitely not taking her," the Marshal replied, holding her hands up. "Thank you, Hugh."

"Excuse me?" Charlotte glowered at both the Marshal and Jed. "Take it back, both of you. I'm one of the best shooters in Sagebrush Crossing."

"Yeah, for a girl," one of the guys in the bar said.

"Shut up, John." She turned back to the Marshal and Jed. "Anyway, watch how you're talking. And don't speak about me like I'm not in the room, or you will find out just how well I can shoot."

John, the man sitting at one of the tables behind them, laughed. "Everyone here knows these are empty threats. You don't mean them."

Charlotte faltered for a moment, shaking her head. "I..." After a moment, her eyebrows lowered again, her expression hardening. She swiveled on her barstool and let out a harsh whisper. "I said shut up, John!"

The bartender set down a cold glass of lemonade in front of her, and she turned back to the bar. She inclined her head politely, letting out a sigh. "Thank you."

The Marshal looked at Jed and shrugged, then took a sip of her drink.

"Back to business, then. I'd say everyone needs to be in town and ready in the next three hours or so. So any animals or anything that need to be gathered up...needs to be done before then. I don't think Meyer's band had camped too far away from the tracks. He said they had been there earlier," the Marshal paused and squinted over Jed's shoulder. "Who's the gimpy old dude? He's really in a hurry. Funny how he sort of pops along."

"Jed! What in tarnation are you thinking, boy?" said gimpy old guy shouted across the bar. He lurched across the room, his clockwork left leg clicking softly as he walked. "Why didn't you shoot that miserable cur where he stood when you saw him? Don't you remember what Caldwell did to this town? He shot the sheriff, he took me hostage. Hanging's too good. Bleeding out in the street is the way for him to go"

"For your information, Cog Leg, the prisoner is mine, and shall not be prosecuted without due process," the Marshal said, leaning forward just slightly and peering out from beneath her cocked hat and veil. "Namely to stand trial before a Federal Justice of the Peace and a jury of his peers. Lay a finger on him, and I will shoot you for obstructing justice and hindering a marshal of the law."

"Oh, it's you again," Dr. Reynolds said to the Marshal. "Who said anything about fingers? I'm a doctor, not some low-down street brawler. I'll use lots of knives and stab that yellow-bellied snake till he dies crying for his momma."

"I'm sorry, but I seem to recall that Caldwell held a certain Doctor prisoner in his own office with...what was it, Jed? It wasn't a butter knife or a spoon...was it a fish fork? I think it was! He held a Doctor for ransom with a fish fork, right in this town!"

"I didn't have my glasses on! It looked like a atom splitter. Anyone could have made the mistake," Reynolds blustered. The truth was he had actually been recovering from a healthy dose of Monsieur Jacques' Elixir of Longevity and Beneficence.

"What? You haven't invented a clockwork precision eye yet?"