I’m not 100% sure how it happened.
Yes, you read that correctly. Yes, I know I’m trying to finish editing by October, but I accidentally started writing a lesbian western. It was on a whim and mostly as a joke, but it started a few nights ago. It’s not bad. I allowed myself to be a bit silly with the naming and sorting out some concepts.
Not my normal behavior, I assure you. I am no fun normally. Quite the stick in the mud on some occasions, but I had a bout of silliness that I couldn’t let pass. Would you like to see it? I hope so, because here it is:
The Feathered Saloon
The dust never settled in Copper Creek, but Sheriff Wyette Herp liked it that way. Kept folks moving, kept secrets buried, and kept her two lives from colliding too often. By day, she wore the star and kept the peace. By night, she slipped through the back door of The Gilded Peacock, the finest saloon this side of the territory—and the most scandalous.
What the good citizens didn’t know was that Wyette owned every plank of wood, every bottle of whiskey, and every sequined costume that graced the Peacock’s stage. Her girls, though calling them girls was a stretch for most, put on a show that drew cowboys from three counties over. Ruby Divine, Diamond Belle, and Scarlett Sunset could sing, dance, and outdraw half the men in town, all while wearing more feathers than a prize rooster and enough rouge to paint a barn.
The arrangement worked beautifully until that sweltering Tuesday night in August.
Wyette was nursing a whiskey at her usual corner table, badge tucked safely in her vest pocket, when the Brennan boys rode in from their cattle drive. They had pockets full of silver and bellies full of rotgut. The boys were whooping and hollering before they even tied their horses, and by the time they pushed through the saloon doors, they were spoiling for trouble.
“We heard you got the prettiest gals in the territory!” hollered Jake Brennan, the eldest and meanest of the bunch. “But all I see are a bunch of painted—”
Ruby Divine stepped to the edge of the stage, six feet of pure theater in emerald silk and ostrich plumes. “Careful now, cowboy. A lady’s reputation is a delicate thing.”
The Brennan boys erupted in crude laughter, but Ruby’s eyes found Wyette’s across the smoke-filled room. They’d played this dance before, but tonight felt different. Meaner.
As the evening wore on, the cowboys grew louder and handier. When Tom Brennan grabbed at Scarlett’s skirts during her number, Wyette stood up. When they started throwing coins at Diamond Belle and calling her unspeakable names, Wyette’s hand drifted to her hip. But when Jake Brennan pulled his gun and pointed it at Ruby, declaring he was going to “see what’s under all that paint and pretense,” Sheriff Wyette Herp made her choice.
“Gentlemen,” she called out, her voice cutting through the saloon’s din. “I’m afraid we’re closed.”
The room went dead quiet. Jake’s gun wavered between Ruby and this stranger who dared interrupt their fun.
“Says who?” Jake snarled.
Wyette stepped into the light, a star gleaming on her chest. “Says the law.”
The Brennan boys might have been drunk, but they weren’t stupid. They holstered their weapons and stumbled toward the door, Jake spitting tobacco juice on Wyette’s freshly cleaned floors.
“This ain’t over, Sheriff,” he growled. “High noon tomorrow. Main street. You can’t hide behind that badge forever.”
After the saloon emptied, Ruby approached Wyette at the bar, still magnificent in her stage costume but somehow vulnerable now in the dim lamplight.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Ruby said softly.
“Course I did.” Wyette poured herself another whiskey. “It’s my job.”
“Which job?” Ruby asked with a knowing smile.
===
The next morning dawned clear and hot. Word had spread about the challenge, and half the town lined Main Street to watch their sheriff face down Jake Brennan. Wyette checked her Colt one more time and stepped out of her office.
But as she walked toward the center of town, she noticed something that made her blood run cold. A woman in a traveling dress stood frozen in the middle of the street, clutching a carpetbag. She was beautiful, with intelligent dark eyes and auburn hair escaping from her bonnet, and she was directly in the line of fire.
Jake Brennan was already in position, swaying slightly but grinning mean. He saw the woman too and his grin widened.
“Well, looky here, Sheriff. Seems we got ourselves an audience. Hope she don’t mind getting her pretty dress dirty.”
“Ma’am,” Wyette called out, “you need to move. Now.”
The woman turned toward her voice, and Wyette felt her heart skip. Even frightened, she was stunning.
“I… I can’t,” the woman called back. “My heel is caught in the boardwalk.”
Jake’s laugh was ugly. “Perfect. When I kill you, Sheriff, she can watch you bleed out in the dust.”
That’s when Wyette made her second choice of the day.
Instead of taking her position for the duel, she sprinted toward the trapped woman. Jake, caught off guard by the unexpected move, drew and fired wild. Wyette reached the woman just as the bullet splintered the wood beside them. In one fluid motion, she scooped the woman into her arms, spun to face Jake, and drew her Colt.
The shot echoed across Main Street.
Jake Brennan’s gun hit the dirt, followed closely by Jake himself, clutching his wounded shoulder.
“Next time,” Wyette called out, not even breathing hard, “pick on someone your size.”
Still holding the woman in her arms, Wyette looked down into those dark eyes. “You hurt?”
“No, I… thank you.” The woman’s voice was soft, cultured. “I’m Margaret. Margaret Collins. I’m the new schoolteacher.”
“Wyette Herp. Sheriff.” She set Margaret down gently but kept one arm around her waist. “Welcome to Copper Creek, Miss Collins.”
“It’s certainly more exciting than I expected.”
From the crowd, Wyette heard Ruby’s distinctive laugh and turned to see her three-star performers watching from the saloon porch, still in their feathers and sequins despite the early hour.
“Ruby Divine,” Margaret said, following her gaze. “I saw her perform in San Francisco once. She’s remarkable.”
Wyette raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem shocked.”
“Should I be? Art is art, Sheriff. Beauty is beauty.” Margaret smiled. “And courage is courage.”
As the crowd dispersed and Doc Henderson saw to Jake Brennan’s shoulder, Wyette found herself still standing in the street with the most interesting woman she’d ever met.
“Miss Collins,” she said finally, “would you like to get some coffee? I know a place that serves the best pie in three counties. And the owner’s got some stories that might interest a worldly woman like yourself.”
Margaret’s smile could have lit up the whole territory. “I’d like that very much, Sheriff.”
As they walked toward the café, arm in arm, Ruby called out from the saloon steps: “Hey, boss! Same time tonight?”
Wyette tipped her hat without looking back. “Wouldn’t miss it, Ruby. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
And for the first time since she’d pinned on the star, Sheriff Wyette Herp figured she might just have found a way to make both her worlds work together. Especially with someone who understood that the best stories always had a little paint, a lot of courage, and enough love to make even the wildest tales come true…
What did you think?
I’d love to know your thoughts. Can see it becoming a novel, a short story, or who knows what?!?
As for progress on the current book with Dani and all her friends, dead or otherwise. I’ve made it through most of chapter five and have beefed up the drama and my main character. Dani feels more real and relatable to me. I hope that translates to others. We’ll see once I get these edits done and I stop being distracted by.
Later Tater,
Harlo
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