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       #Post#: 2694--------------------------------------------------
       Only Their Dust and Legend Remain
   DIR By: Maggie Flannery
       Date: June 22, 2013, 6:52 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       That damn look alike kicked this off and seemed to feed the
       muse. I'm so sorry I promised you Lestat but I thought George
       was fitting for this. ;)
  HTML http://i1255.photobucket.com/albums/hh628/mcohen3/DesertLandsBanner2_zpsb909736b.jpg
       Theme (s) -
  HTML http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYgMCm7FNCw
  HTML http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfmYCM4CS8o
       Summary:
       A promising young scholar from Louisiana tries his luck one
       evening while playing cards in the tiny town of Clarkville New
       Mexico and ends up slaughtered in the street by a man named D.B.
       Henderson. Word travels fast through the grapevine and reaches
       his sister and her best friend in nearby McKinley, a city known
       for it's Burlesque girls and Red Light District. Revenge is a
       dish best served cold, Little Sister's out for blood and along
       for the ride are a gun slinging poet, A Fallen man of the cloth,
       and a nurse turned Highkick Honey. Together this band of four
       paints the South West with the stuff of legend and starts an all
       out war. Will they go down in a blaze of glory or in a blood
       bath?
       The Ladies Attire:
  HTML http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/collection?id=2659386
       #Post#: 2695--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Only Their Dust and Legend Remain
   DIR By: Wolfy
       Date: June 22, 2013, 6:59 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       No apologies necessary at all, m'dear! this looks and sounds as
       though it's going to be quite the story.
       I'm already dying to know where it all kicks off; the themes are
       fantastic, especially Blaze Of Glory ;) and the ladies attire..
       stunning <33 I would wear each of those outfits despite the heat
       they're probably going to be facing. Can't wait for the first
       update!
       #Post#: 2698--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Only Their Dust and Legend Remain
   DIR By: Maggie Flannery
       Date: June 23, 2013, 3:32 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Aww why thank you! Blaze Of Glory has been playing in the
       background for the last day or so and has certainly fueled
       things, haha. I feel so bad about having the poor girls dressed
       in such fashions but I think they'll find a way to keep cool
       somehow. We'll have to see. ;)
       Author's Note : *Disclaimer* - Please know that this is a work
       of pure fiction. I'm but a humble writer and I don't make a cent
       from these works, I just write them for my own and the enjoyment
       of others. I do not mean in anyway to infringe upon the famous
       individuals/characters that are mentioned within the work. I
       only own the original characters unless otherwise stated. If you
       would like to post my work please contact me and I will gladly
       grant permission as long as my name is mentioned and the
       disclaimer (above) is posted along with the piece. I don't bite,
       I promise. :-)
       June  Clarksville, New Mexico (Keystone Hall Saloon) 1880
       It was just like any other night, the air was thick with the
       smell of pipe smoke, sweat, and the occasional whiff of rose
       water worn by one of the ladies of the evening. Business was
       good because it was pay day, the drinks were flowing and at one
       table a friendly game of poker was being played. The young man
       from Louisiana was a long way from home and had stopped from his
       day's travel to rest. He was good-hearted fellow, laughing green
       eyes and very dapper in his dress sense. He'd said he was a
       scholar working his way abroad as he'd just graduated and was on
       his way to McKinley, a town a good four hundred miles away to
       see his sister. He had been under the impression that when she'd
       said neighboring it was only perhaps fifty or so miles further
       but his assumption was proven wrong when her final letter
       arrived to him just three weeks earlier. He passed her photo
       around the table and got a few wolf whistles. The picture though
       it was somewhat faded, showed a girl with dark hair and the same
       laughing eyes, only darker than his own, and a sweet shy smile,
       if one looked closely you could see they were related. At her
       left was another pretty young girl with dancing eyes and an even
       sweeter smile that glowed with mirth and good cheer. Their
       families didn't talk of their daughters' work and were ill at
       ease with them being so far from home and yet still unmarried.
       He'd assured their mother as well as her friend's father that
       he'd go and talk some sense into them although he found nothing
       wrong with what they were doing. It was the age of  Women's
       Suffrage after all.  They were happy in what they were doing,
       making steady money and had sworn him to secrecy about their
       chosen sweethearts. His Mama certainly wasn't proud of what her
       daughter had become but she always quite hard on Margaret, or
       Maggie as she preferred to be called. They were both composed of
       the same rich Scots  Irish stock but Maggie was always the head
       strong one. Lottie only fared slightly better, she was her
       father's only daughter and the pet of the family since her own
       mother's passing when she was just a youngster.
       "Her childhood friend, they ventured out that way after they
       finished their schooling only a year or two ago. No, I believe I
       am mistaken, forgive me. It's been four years this Tuesday that
       she's been in McKinley. I'm afraid I've been away far too long
       they may have changed by now."
       He'd explained as he tucked the photo back within his shirt
       pocket for safekeeping. The game was tied and the air had a
       tension about it, not that it worried the young man. He was used
       to this sort of thing and refused to let his opponent see him
       sweat. He'd never lost a game of cards in his life.
       "I'll see your seven and raise you a ten, good sir."
       His opponent’s eyes turned steely as their gaze set in on the
       young man. Something had shifted and the room, usually rife with
       the sound of the upright piano cranking out many a jolly tune,
       and the laughter and boisterous noises from the fellow patrons
       had quieted so that one could hear a pin drop.
       "I don't take kindly to being swindled boy. 'Specially from a no
       good flannel mouthed liar. You ain't got ten to raise. You think
       I'm stupid son?"
       "Why no, sir. I merely have a winning hand. See? You'd do well
       not to call me a liar sir. I'm no swindler. I'll gladly buy you
       a drink as a show of good faith."
       The young man didn't bat an eye and coolly laid his cards out on
       the table before taking a sip of his whiskey. A royal flush were
       what his cards read and his opponent let out a snarl as he threw
       his cards down in defeat. The young man calmly collected his
       winnings and bought his sulking opponent a drink as a parting
       token of good faith. He quietly bid everyone a good evening and
       started out into the street, dimly lit by the street lamps. He
       marveled at how bright the stars shown and wondered why he
       hadn't come to New Mexico sooner. Whoops were heard within the
       Saloon.
       "Boy he sure made a fool out of you, Henderson!"
       Maggie was right, it's certainly beautiful here.
       He thought as he admired the moon, only mere seconds before he
       heard his name called out by the cattleman from the Saloon. He
       turned, his usual good-natured smile in place and was dismayed
       to see his opponent standing ten paces from him with a gun
       gleaming in the moonlight.
       "No one makes a fool out of D.B. Henderson, boy. You took my
       money and you took my pride in front of damn near the entire
       town. Now, you pay."
       Four quick shots rang out in the night before the young man from
       Louisiana could even utter a word. Four stains bloomed on the
       front of his silken cream vest as he dropped to knees and then
       fell onto his back. A searing red hot pain had ripped through
       him and he couldn't even let out so much as a yell.  He lay in
       the street of Clarksville bleeding and staring at the stars as
       he slowly drifted in and out of consciousness, his lungs gasping
       for breath as he gushed rivers of blood into the cracked dry
       earth. His last thoughts were of his sister and her friend and
       what they would do without him. Soon his emerald green eyes
       dimmed forever more as his last breath was caught on the wind
       and his spirit left the mortal coil for good. The young man from
       Louisiana, who was named Louis Flannery, had expired alone, in
       the street like some sort of poor stray dog. So far from home
       without even as so much as a backward glance at his attacker.
       
       *********************************************************************************************
       Three Weeks Later McKinley New Mexico (The Crystal Spring
       Saloon)
       The air within the saloon was sweltering and waves of heat could
       be seen just outside the double doors. The tiny town of McKinley
       was booming, preparing for it's Founder's Day celebration.
       Inside the saloon far away from the hustle and bustle of the
       towns people and their various activities the air was sweet with
       pipe tobacco and fresh pine shavings. The bottles behind the bat
       glistened as the sunlight hit them and a quiet din had descended
       upon the place. The regulars hadn't gotten off from their shifts
       just yet but after sundown the place would truly be alive. I was
       quite preoccupied minding the  infant of one of the working girl
       that was out on a social call to the mayor as Lottie attempted
       to repair her costume in our tiny dressing room.
       "Oh, Lottie I don't see why Clara didn't just hand her over to
       you. You're the nurse for land's sakes."
       I muttered as I hoisted the crying child up onto my hip and
       attempted to soothe it the best I could. I racked my memory of
       how my Mother used to soothe my younger siblings before the
       Yellow Fever took them. I established a rocking rhythm and
       hummed a lullaby only to have my hair yanked in return.
       Tiny twinkling eyes looked up at me and gave me a tiny toothless
       grin as the baby rested it's head against my chest.
       "Oh ye of little faith, Maggie. Really, wasn't that hard was it?
       Could you come here for a moment? I need your opinion."
       Lottie said she finished her final stitch and examined her handy
       work. I had to admit her newest creation was certainly a fine
       one, cream crinoline and purple watered silk blended nicely
       together for her dancing costume. She held two colored plumes up
       for my inspection.
       "Should I put in the cream or the purple?"
       I thought for a moment and then hoisted the baby back up onto my
       hip again. I took both feathers and held them together.
       "I'd go with both. Why not? You'll start a new trend, Lottie.
       Just have them pinned together like that."
       I said as I held both up and Lottie inspected herself in the
       mirror with a smile.
       "I like the way you think, Mags. Oooh, and I just got my new
       silk choker too! I'll be a regular fashion icon this time next
       year. Have you heard anything from Louis yet?"
       The subject of my older brother left a pain in my heart. He was
       three weeks late and I was beginning to worry. I'd written my
       mother and hadn't received word back. He was never late for
       anything in his entire life so it was highly unusual. I'd sent
       Lottie's sweetheart, a quiet man by the name of George "Horse"
       Harrison, as well as my own, Josiah "Doc" Scurlock, over  to the
       last town I'd received a letter from, Greenly, two weeks after
       Louis hadn't shown up. It was dated a week earlier than the post
       mark and the letter was only half finished. Louis never ever
       left things unfinished, even a letter to me. His usual seal
       wasn't present and it made me wonder what was going on.
       The boys were due back any minute now, given the fact that they
       knew a few short cuts and chose to ride through the night or so
       their last letter to me said.  The sudden thunder of hooves as
       familiar horses came up to the saloon filled my ears. I gently
       set down Clara's little girl in her makeshift crib and ran out
       into the street, dressed in merely nothing, unless you count a
       dressing gown under which I wore my shift, corset, camisole and
       bloomers clothing. I certainly didn't. I cinched my robe around
       me and shoved my feet into a pair of slippers and raced out to
       find a road weary Doc and George hitching their horses up to the
       usual post off the side of the building.
       "Well? Did you hear anything? See anything?"
       Doc shook his head as he took down his bandana that shielded his
       nose and mouth from the fine dust the horses kicked up on the
       ride back. I looked to George as he did the same and he simply
       shook his head.
       "I'm sorry to send you both out there for nothing. I just
       thought...that maybe..."
       My voice dropped as tears welled up into my eyes and Doc pulled
       me into a hug and led me back into the saloon, George not far
       behind us.
       "It's alright, we're just as worried about him as you are,
       Mags."
       I sniffled against Doc's shirt and looked up at him with watery
       eyes.
       "But you had to go all the way to Greenly and then come all the
       way back and you haven't heard anything and I know something's
       wrong. Louie's never gone this long without writing anyone let
       alone not showing up when he said he would. Something's not
       right, Doc. We're talking about a man who's never been late a
       day in his life. Mama even said he came right on his due date at
       exactly 4:15 on the dot. I took an extra week. Oh my lord what
       if something happened to him?"
       I crumpled as Doc and George hoisted me into a chair at the bar
       and George went about pouring me a drink from his hip flask.
       "Drink this, it'll help."
       He said as as he passed me a shot glass. I looked at it
       curiously and raised an eyebrow.
       "What's in it, George?"
       "Just a tincture is all. A dash of this and bit of that with
       some whiskey for good measure. Why do you ask?"
       I rolled my eyes as I looked at the glass warily again before
       giving him an answer.
       "The last time I trusted you I ended up half stoned out of my
       mind and in bed with Doc when we were in Abilene. You never told
       me you could brew Peyote tea you old weasel."
       George simply shook his head and took a swig of his concoction
       and smiled.
       "Even if you don't remember it I'm sure you two had fun. Didn't
       ya, Doc?"
       Doc gave him an easy grin as he slung an arm around my shoulder.
       "I reckon we did, George."
       My nerves had me so tightly wound that I ended up shaking like a
       leaf, without a second thought I downed the shot and nearly
       gagged. A little of this and a little of that turned out to be
       George's best home brew with a bit of honey and some lavender
       for flavoring and sweetness. After the blinding burn subsided I
       was feeling less nerved. Another shot and I was down right
       lucid.
       "Please tell me you're not getting her drunk, George. We're
       supposed to do two shows tonight and you know she can't dance
       when she's soaked."
       I waved Lottie off by doing a bit of a jig as giving her a grin.
       "Right as rain, Lottie. Did Clara come back for the baby?"
       Lottie adjusted her feathers as she surveyed herself in the
       mirror and nodded.
       "Yes, and I'll be damned if she didn't wake the poor little
       thing up. I swear that girl's not fit to be a mother. She's just
       a kid herself and now she's got another one on the way. I keep
       telling her to go on over to help Mrs. Bailey at the Mercantile
       but she keeps saying she likes her work. Any word on..."
       George and Doc shook their heads and Lottie's words petered out
       a bit before she came over and gave me a hug.
       "I'm sure he'll be here first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe he's
       met himself a nice girl? Remember when you first fell for Doc?"
       I felt my cheeks start to turn a shade of crimson at Lottie's
       words and sighed. I truly did fall for Doc, clear off my horse
       and right at his feet my first time out making a social call to
       old Mrs. Collier when she was laid up in bed with a summer cold.
       Then I noticed him in the crowd that same evening in the saloon
       and took a dive right off the stage in the middle of the can
       can. This went on for a month until I finally got up the nerve
       to actually speak to the poor man and that ended with both of us
       babbling and turning beet red at one another. He'd left me small
       gifts on my then doorstep just three doors down at Mrs. O'Shea's
       boarding house where I shared a small room with Lottie, mostly
       poems and hand picked wildflowers, the occasional hand carved
       figurine. In return I wrote him poems and offered home cooked
       meals with the occasional huckleberry pie thrown in for good
       measure. We were still in the heady days of courtship the only
       thing that had really changed between us was that we  shared a
       bed when the timing was right (I had moved in to his place just
       outside of town on the old Tunstall farm, something unheard
       of.), carved our name in the oak tree on the back pasture there,
       and considered getting married. We were comfortable the way we
       were, to just be together. His work for the McKinley Gazette was
       easy for him and left him with enough spare time to devote to
       his other passion, gun collecting and offered me the time to
       learn to become a decent shot. Lottie still had me beat because
       she and George devoted most of their free time to clay pigeon
       practice when they weren't out exploring the desert and all it's
       beauty.
       I gave Lottie a sideways glance and sighed.
       "Alright, maybe you're right but still. Don't you think it odd
       that Louie didn't at least write me and tell me? I wrote to him
       almost right after I fell into Doc for the first time. Maybe I'm
       just being a worry wart. Alright, alright. I've got to get
       changed and find the sheet music for Rufus. I swear that man
       would lose his head if it wasn't attached to him."
       I bid farewell to George and Lottie, who were looking quite the
       picture of a cute couple at the other end of the bar and gave
       Doc a peck on the cheek before departing back stage to ready
       myself for the upcoming evening.
       #Post#: 2701--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Only Their Dust and Legend Remain
   DIR By: Maggie Flannery
       Date: June 24, 2013, 7:41 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Soon enough the regulars filtered in along with a few new faces
       and Rufus, the ever dutiful barman and part time piano man
       warmed up his finger tips with the opening bars of the Offenbach
       tune Lottie and I knew so well. Each of us could practically hum
       it in our sleep at this point. We could hear Rufus tuning the
       piano and hammering away, we were seconds away at this point.
       "Alright, Mags, you ready?"
       Lottie asked as she finished powdering her nose in the mirror
       and adjusted her feathers again, making sure they were perfect.
       "Allon, Lottie! Allon!"
       I said as I adjusted my own feather and checked my stays while
       hurrying Lottie out of the dressing room and out into the wings
       of the stage. Lottie and I had a habit of peppering our
       sentences with Cajun french every now and then and Doc and
       George had picked up enough through us to build their own
       vocabulary references. Allon what short for yes, let's go!
       Lottie gave me a grin as we were introduced.
       "Alright you bunch of rough necks, now quiet down or you'll
       scare the girls. Put your hands together for the dynamic duo,
       those beautiful belles all the way from New Orleans, The High
       kick Honeys!"
       Rufus shouted over the din that had all but shook the walls down
       as he sat himself down  and prepared to play before stopping for
       a moment.
       "Oh, and don't even think about touching either of them or their
       gentlemen friends Misters Harrison and Scurlock will have to
       beat you to a bloody pulp and I can't have that, I just put
       fresh shavings down. Alright, here we go!"
       The music kicked in out Lottie and I clambered across the
       creaking old stage kicking up dust as we went, grins plastered
       on our faces. It had been a life long pact between the two of us
       that no matter where one went the other was sure to follow. We
       were truly like sisters rather than friends and when we decided
       to make a fresh start it was certainly together, we'd started
       our act in New Orleans in one of the Burlesque halls that
       sprouted up and had gone on from there.
       Turn, turn turn, wave the skirts, grin some more, shake the leg,
       shake the leg, turn...turn some more. Flare the skirts and turn
       again, cartwheel past each other, high kick, turn, high kick,
       high kick, turn three more times, cartwheel again to original
       positions on stage, keep grinning and the grand finale, the
       split.
       That was it, that's what they paid to see and that's what they
       got, every time. Roughly two minutes and that was it They were
       more than happy with that, perhaps it was the showing of leg
       that did it but it was our signature and we'd worked our way up
       to hold the grand finale position and were paid handsomely for
       it. Of course, given that we were doing two or three sometimes
       four performances a day six days a week (We never ever worked on
       Sundays) Lottie and I were in top physical condition and quite
       limber, as both George and Doc could attest for. Mol Wallace,
       the Madame and wife of the owner, Henry often asked us on to to
       be two of her girls which we declined. Lottie and I enjoyed our
       dancing and that was it. We had no interest in straying from
       either Doc or George just for the sake of money. We'd seen first
       hand what could happen to a girl when we were coming through to
       New Mexico and didn't want any part of it. I still woke up at
       night occasionally in a cold sweat thinking about one poor girl
       from Forth worth who had her throat slit right in front of us
       for trying to barter a higher price for a customer. Although,
       that being said a dancer's life isn't an easy one, we had aches
       and pains just as bad as anyone and when the weather turned
       chilly we ended up taking time off and tending to the bar and
       it's ever loyal flock.
       "One final bow ladies."
       Rufus called as we took our final bow and excited the stage both
       out of breathe and sweating like we'd both run ten country
       miles.
       "You and Doc staying for a drink?"
       Lottie asked as I fanned myself as she ducked behind a changing
       screen. I went about removing the rogue from my face as Lottie
       unfastened her own stays and threw her ankle boots off into the
       corner.
       "Probably not, he'll probably want to head on home after the
       ride he and George put in. What about you?"
       Lottie chuckled as she threw her stockings over the side and
       slipped into her much more comfortable cotton summer dress.
       "I've got plans for my dear dear Mr. Harrison this evening."
       I took Lottie's place behind the screen and freed myself from
       the stays and heavy material of my performance garb and changed
       into my own well worn cotton gingham. I checked myself to make
       sure all the rogue was off and gave her a grin.
       "It doesn't happen to involve a bottle of homemade wine and the
       moonlight does it?"
       Lottie removed her own makeup and stuck her tongue out at me
       before giving me a wink.
       "Yes, as a matter of fact it does."
       A sound knock was heard from the door as George and Doc hustled
       their way into our closet of a dressing room each holding the
       arm of a beady eyed nervous man with scraggly hair and all but
       four teeth in his head.
       "I ain't got but nothin' to say! 'specially to women likes them.
       No good night walkers."
       The man quipped and stuck out his chin defiantly. Doc and George
       gave his arms a squeeze make him yelp.
       "You'll do right to apologize to these fine ladies. They're
       nothing like those two bits out there, make good on your slip
       boy or you'll be out six feet under for soiling their good
       names."
       George growled low enough to make Lottie and I break out into
       goose flesh and exchange worried glances.
       "We made ourselves a new friend over at the bar a few minutes
       ago after your number ended, ladies. This here is Mr. Avis Strum
       and he happens to live over in the fine town of Clarkville."
       Doc said as he gripped Mr. Strum a bit harder to keep him from
       bolting.
       "Now, you go on and tell these fine ladies what you were
       spouting off at the bar to us, Mr. Strum."
       Strum hesitated and then looked me in the eye.
       "I saws your brother, that rich boy from down Louisiana way. He
       was playin' a game of poker with...D.B. Henderson and
       Henderson's a real mean 'un he is. I should know, I work for him
       on his ranch...nothing special, just a line cook's all when the
       calfing season starts. He'll shoot ya soon as look at ya he
       will. But he wouldn't do that 'ta me 'cause I done married his
       sister. He 'cused that boy from New Orleans uh cheatin' even
       after he won fare and square.  Boy even bought the D.B. a drink
       but that only made him even madder than a hornet. I was out back
       near the pig pens sloppin' um like I always do before closin'
       time and I heard four loud shots. Like gun shots so I go 'round
       and see what happened. I sees Henderson putting his gun back in
       his holster and spitting on something. First I thought it was a
       coyote then I got a closer look and saw that it was a person. I
       found this in one uh his pockets."
       Strum held out a silver pocket watch that I knew well, I'd given
       it to Louis the year before he went off to study abroad. His
       initials were inscribed on the outer face and the thing still
       ticked. I snatched it away from Strum's dirty hands and opened
       it to find that it was spattered with blood and it's face was
       cracked. Yet, it ticked. My heart stopped and I let out a
       scream. Every good lick of sense I had went straight out the
       window as I grabbed a hold of Strum and shook him by his bony
       shoulders.
       "What else did you see?!"
       I shrieked as I continued to shake the filthy little man whose
       eyes were now the size of dinner plates.
       "I...I..I ssaw HHenderson and a few 'uh his men pickin' up the
       body and dumpin' it over into the other hog pen. Those damn hogs
       went wild...that boy done bleed out like a fresh killed deer he
       did. I ain't never seen so much blood come out of a body."
       My stomach turned as my heart stopped again. I could see by the
       look on Strum's face that something wasn't right with him. The
       way he talked about seeing Louis's body hit the muck as the hogs
       picked up on the fresh blood made him almost giddy as a kid at
       Christmas. The man was a monster, just like his boss. My world
       was spinning and my mind raced with images of Louis, laughing,
       smiling, taunting me, and now all of the sudden he was gone.  I
       was without a brother just because some low life was a sore
       loser.
       "What were their names? Don't you dare give me false ones or so
       help me you'll rue the day you were born."
       I said as I barked at Lottie to get a pencil and start making
       note of Henderson and his crew.
       "Read back the names, Lottie."
       I said as my mind ticked away at a plan.
       "Uh...Herschel Andrews...Jed Hastings...and Alonzo Dubois. Oh,
       and Daniel Blythe Henderson."
       "What exactly are you planning on doing, Maggie?"
       George asked gravely as I pushed Strum down onto a chaise lounge
       and went about digging through various trunks and grabbing my
       worn traveling satchel and packing in the spare clothes I kept
       in the dressing room.
       "I'll tell you what I plan on doing. I plan on hunting every one
       of those animals down and making them pay. I'll have Henderson's
       guts for garters and I'm scalping the rest of them. Don't think
       I can't do it either. Doc, go home and gather up the ammo and
       your rifle. I'll take that along with me and if I go by Moore’s
       Landing I should be there in three days time if I don't stop."
       I was talking more to myself than anyone in particular until
       Strum broke my concentration.
       "Uh...can I go then? I told ya all I know...'s'not like I had
       anything to do with it. I mean I didn't once touch his body or
       nothing...I just.."
       I turned and looked at Strum, sizing him up. How could I be sure
       that if I were to let him go he wouldn't send word to Henderson
       and his thugs that Louis Flannery's little sister was out for
       blood, more specifically his blood and wouldn't stop until he
       was as six feet under out in the middle of desert where no one
       would ever find him.
       "Then how'd you get his watch, huh? How do I know that you
       didn't help them dump Louis's body? You're just as despicable as
       the rest of them. You're going with me for insurance, Strum and
       don't think I won't shoot you, because right now you're looking
       more and more guilty. I ought to gut you right now. Maybe
       that'll tell Henderson something."
       Strum's eyes widened as he stared at me and all but shook.
       "You can't possibly think you can take these men on by yourself,
       Maggie. I'm going with you."
       Lottie said as she finished jotting down a list of supplies.
       "Well, I'm not letting you two go out there without me."
       George said as he held one hand on his ever present revolver.
       Doc's face hardened as he nodded in agreement.
       "Neither am I. We do this as a team, these things are better off
       worked out in a group. We'll leave tomorrow before sunrise."
       Strum's eyes bugged as she looked at each of us.
       "Well...what about me? What are you gonna do with me 'til then?"
       George grinned as he yanked Strum up from the chaise lounge and
       tied him up with feather boa.
       "You're bunking with me tonight, Strum. Don't even think about
       trying to run because I've got excellent hearing and the
       reflexes of a cat. Lottie's a straight shoot too, don't mess
       with her. Now, move it."
       So it was decided that we'd pack up and move out bright and
       early the next morning. I can honestly say that I didn't sleep a
       wink that night, just lay there tossing and turning and half
       thinking that Louis was still alive. A couple of times I could
       have sworn I'd heard him murmuring something to me but in the
       end it was only the wind whipping around the house. I quieted my
       mind with a recitation of the Lord's Prayer and thanking God
       himself for blessing me with a group of people that would lay
       their lives on the line to help me avenge my brother. My mother
       once told me that angels walk amongst us, we just don't know it
       until well after a miracle happens. I knew then that Doc,
       Lottie, and George certainly fell into that category. The
       miracle would be if we found Henderson and his gang and brought
       them down. I knew in my heart of hearts we would, but it was
       going to take time. Henderson was a dirty player but he drew
       first blood and that meant that the rule book was out the
       window. Little did he know how dirty I could play when
       challenged. He was mine and he was a dead man. He just didn't
       know it yet.
       #Post#: 2703--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Only Their Dust and Legend Remain
   DIR By: Wolfy
       Date: June 25, 2013, 7:09 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Ooh, I love the ladies' dance! I think I would be falling all
       over the stage if I had to perfect all those moves whilst
       wearing heals and feathers, aha. That was really fun to read.
       And the way the boys handled that poor sod, that was hilarious..
       but I'm really feeling for Maggie right now. I actually started
       crying when I read the last few para's :( can only imagine
       what's running through her head and I can't wait for her to get
       her own back. I've no doubt that she will, with the help of her
       friends. Fantastic update and can't wait for another <3
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