The Only Rules That Matter: Legacy (Corsair and Madam Mim)

"Well, that was an...adventure." Anne Marie had tried to busy herself by making tea, but had only found cheap coffee in a tin can. It would have to do. "I have to admit that I was very skeptical about your unkillable ranch hands. But I am a very good shot and none of them, it seems, stayed down for very long. I am big enough to admit when I'm wrong, and I apologize." She carefully pressed the lid of the second-hand percolator down with a dish towel-covered finger to keep the lid from rattling as the coffee brewed. She didn't say much more until it was finished and she poured them both a cup before sitting at the scrubbed wooden table.

"If your undead ranch hands are real, I'm afraid I must assume so are your spirits." Her eyes flicked around the room as she sipped the coffee, as though she expected to see the ghosts materialize then and there. "It is...a lot to process. But although I was trained to be skeptical, I was also trained to accept truth when the facts point to it. So...what must we do to get to this Beckett?"

~*~

The smell of coffee woke Jackie first, lightly, then fully when she realized that the woman in her arms wasn't Sam. Alice, that was her name. Not that she minded waking up next to Alice, but she had gotten used to the stockier, boxier build of Sam that it was disturbing not to have her next to her. Where was she? Looking out the window it wasn't morning, so why was she making coffee? Carefully slipping out of Alice's grip she slid off of the bed and hobbled to the door, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Sammy?" Jackie hobbled down the hallway, blinking in the light of the kitchen. It took her a moment through her squinted eyes to register everything. There was Sam, fully dressed, and that head doctor in her nightgown with...a sword? "Doc?"

"Would you like some coffee, Miss Sparrow?" Anne Marie offered politely, both of them ignoring her nudity. "Or do you plan on going back to bed?"
 
Sam sat hunched over her coffee, sipping it with an air of grim determination as she listened to the Doc talk. Damn, she was tired. Tired, but too wired up to sleep. “Ain’t no shame in thinkin’ Ah was crazy,” she said. “Reckon Ah thought Ah was moren’ once mahself.”

She swigged down more of the coffee and leaned back, letting the chair support her. Damn tired. Too tired to scrub the ashes war mask off, even. Too tired to see straight, it seemed. Doc LaMonte was a glittering network of light, radiating out from whirlpool-like things that followed her spine down. Kinda pretty, like Christmas lights.

The Doc was kinda pretty, too. Not a patch on her Jackie, mind. But pretty. “So...what must we do to get to this Beckett?"

Sam considered that. “We need silver,” she said slowly. “Don’t rightly know why, but it slows ‘em down. Keeps ‘em from gettin’ back up so damn fast. Got me a map ta a mine, but we’ll need tools fee that as well.” She grimaced. “Books, too. Ah kin cast th’ damn bullets, but Ah ain’t never been minin’ before.”

Another sip. “End o’ th’ day, though, we gotta find th’ coins. Old gold coins, Bart said. Spanish things, cursed by an Aztec witch doctor accordin’ ta Jackie. Beckett’s got ‘em, an’ we gotta get ‘em back ta break th’ curse.”

Just then, a new voice interrupted. “Sammy?" Jackie asked, sounding confused. "Doc?"

"Would you like some coffee, Miss Sparrow?" Anne Marie offered politely, as Sam turned her head. "Or do you plan on going back to bed?"

Jackie was lit up the same way as Dic LaMonte, lights flickering and flowing inside her, with a small, brilliant light burning behind her navel. “Them haints came a-callin’ last night,” she said wearily, pulling out a chair for her lover. “Went lookin’ fed us at her place. An’ Ah couldn’t rightly let them grab her, so now we’re schemin’ on how ta get ta Beckett.”
 
"Well, equipment and books shouldn't be too difficult to come by," Anne Marie said lightly, leaning back in her chair. "Assuming they haven't destroyed it I have an automobile that could take us to Dallas if we cannot find what we need around here. The equipment I'm sure will be easy enough but books?" She sniffed derisively. "Well, they don't seem to value education much in Abiline, do they?" She smiled grimly and sipped her coffee, offering some to Jackie when she appeared in the hallway.

Jackie sat in the chair Sam pulled out, looking blearily between the two, then shook her head to the offer of coffee. "So Beckett's got a pretty good bead on us, hm?" She blinked slowly. It felt so good when her eyes closed, like they had been burning and were being washed over with cool water. "Time s'it?"

Anne Marie moved to consult her watch before realizing that she was still in her nightdress, then looked outside. "I would imagine around one or two in the morning," she said. She opened her mouth to speak again but only a soft 'oh' escaped as she looked down again, realizing that she had left behind the pocket watch Algie had given to her. It was just a thing, of course, but it was a treasured thing. All she could do was hope it hadn't been destroyed or stolen once they'd fled. "Before we do anything else I suggest we all get some good sleep and a proper meal in the morning."

"Then what?" Jackie demanded crankily. "Cast the bullets, go in guns blazing, and hope he's got a giant old chest full of gold just sittin' out in the front room?"

Anne Marie shrugged. "We could do that," she admitted, "but I was thinking of something a little subtler. Infiltration, perhaps. I don't think they ever got a decent look at me, and I am very good at getting where I'm not supposed to be, you know."
 
“
Then what?" Jackie demanded crankily. "Cast the bullets, go in guns blazing, and hope he's got a giant old chest full of gold just sittin' out in the front room?"

“That’s ‘bout as far as Ah done got,” Sam confessed with a tired laugh. “Which is why Ah ain’t been pushin’ ta try somethin’ yet.”

Anne Marie shrugged. "We could do that," she admitted, "but I was thinking of something a little subtler. Infiltration, perhaps. I don't think they ever got a decent look at me, and I am very good at getting where I'm not supposed to be, you know."

Nodding, Sam pursed her lips in thought. “Could work. An’ we kinda got a feller on th’ inside. Bart, one o’ mah older brothers,” she added at the Doc’s curious expression. “He’s one o’ them haints, was at yer house, matter o’ fact. If’n we kin get word ta him, he might be able ta help yeh look.”

Draining the last of her coffee, Sam yawned and rubbed her eyes and hissed in discomfort as the ash scraped her skin. “Ain’t gonna be good fer much, though, if’n Ah don’t get some damn sleep,” she mumbled, rising and running the sink. “Lemme wash mah face an’ get forty winks, ‘fore Ah try anythin’ clever.” As the water ran, she pointed at the dead Ranger standing at the door. “An’ don’t you get no damn funny dead, neither. Jes’ keep an eye out, an’ don’t wake nobody lessen they find us. Y’hear?”
 
Anne Marie frowned curiously when Sam mentioned her brother Bart, then nodded when she had explained that he was one of the undead men. So that was why she had seemed so invested. "That would be very helpful," she confirmed. "Particularly if Beckett does not behave as I expect him to. But I find that most powerful men tend to show off when they oughtn't; they think women are stupid and don't know what is right in front of them." She smiled tiredly. "At the very least, I can get an idea of where we ought to look before we go in."

But sleep was a very, very good idea. Even keyed up as she was, Anne Marie found herself feeling exhausted. While Jackie and Sam returned to bed, she made the couch up for herself with a thin blanket and rather flat pillow. It was a big step down from her comfortable bed back at her place of business, and a far cry from the mansion she called home back in Paris. But still, it was better than sleeping on the hard ground.
 
“Y’all brought another gal over?” Alice’s voice roused Sam, causing her to mumble and snuggle into Jackie’s back in an effort to get back to sleep. “Hell, y’coulda jes’ woke me up if y’was rarin’ ta go.”

“‘S’na’likethat,” Sam yawned and to stare up at Alice. “Sh’neededhlp.”

Alice leaned against the wall and stared at her. “Ah didn’t understand a damn word of that.”

Rubbing her eyes, San could still feel traces of grit from the mask she’d painted on. “”She needed help,” she repeated. “Buncha toughs busted up her place last night.”

Alice considered that. “Why?”

“They was lookin’ fer me an’ Jackie,” Sam replied.

The black woman crossed her arms under her breasts. “Why?”

“It’s a long story...”

-*-

“That’s a hell of a story,” Alice said, pouring herself another mug of coffe. “Top you off, ma’sm?” she added, gesturing towards Anne Marie with the pot.

Everyone was huddled around the small kitchen table, where Sam and Jackie explained how they had come to be in town. Originally Sam had intended to leave out the business about cursed gold and walking dead cowboys, but it had just sort of slipped out. Surprisingly, Alice didn’t seem worried about that. “Maybe you two should write for the pulps,” the waitress added, spooning sugar into her coffee. “Story like that should sell like hot cakes.” She took a sip. “So. What’s the plan now? Silver mining and going after an evil cattle baron?”

“Something like that,” Sam grimaced. “Ain’t like we got us a solid plan yet, ‘cept not gettin killed.”

“Y’done said Doc LaMonte here,” she gestured with her mug, “kin sneak in. Sounds good ta me - cavalry always done sent scouts out before fightin’ Injuns. No offense, Jackie. Seems like knowin’ the lay o’ th’ land’s the way to go.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “We need ta know more. Where’s th’ coins, how many o’ them are there, an’ what’s Beckett up ta anyhow?”

“Sounds good.” Alice grinned. “When we keavin’?”

“Well, Ah... wait?” Sam looked up from her coffee. “We?”

“Shit, girl, Ah reckon Ah kin swing a pickaxe.” She laughed at Sam’s expression. “An’ this sounds more excitin’ than waitin’ tables. Sides,,,” she glanced at Anne Marie. “Fancy French ladies gonna be travelin’ wit’ a servant girl, right? An’ ain’t neither o’ you two gonna pass fer that.”
 
Anne Marie clutched her mug, not feeling her usual perfectly put-together self. If she had had a worst night's sleep since Gustav's death, she couldn't think of it. The entire story, front to back, sounded insane...but hadn't she seen it for herself? She had tried to kill them but they just kept getting up. And nobody had a plan well-formed enough to mention, with Anne Marie herself in her sleep-deprived state only with vague notions of putting her training to good use.

"Y'done said Doc LaMonte here--"

"I am not a doctor."

"--kin sneak in. Sounds good ta me - cavalry always done sent scouts out before fightin’ Injuns. No offense, Jackie. Seems like knowin’ the lay o’ th’ land’s the way to go.”

"Yeah sure," Jackie agreed, irritable as usual in the morning. "Scoutin' out the land's how you rape and massacre unarmed civilians by the hundreds. If it works fer whitey--no offense, Doc--"

"I am not a doctor."

"--it'll work for us."

"And neither am I entirely what you may call white," she added lamely, knowing it wouldn't matter anyway and taking another sip of the strong, bitter coffee. She missed tea. She missed her bed. She missed Algie. She missed silk. She missed Paris. Her attention was pulled back to the conversation when Alice mentioned that she could pose as a servant girl. "And a local Negress, as they call you, would be a very suitable servant," she agreed. "I can play the tourist, simply fascinated by this Texas cattle farming, possibly interested in buying a stake in this Beckett's enterprise. Monsieur Cavendish can introduce us. I can observe Beckett's movements, his unconscious idiosyncrasies, of course. And whilst I distract him, you Mademoiselle can search the house with Samantha's brother. He can provide us a general layout beforehand so that you do not waste your time looking where it is unlikely to be."

"Sorry I made you go see a head doctor, Dhateste," Jackie said, looking at the two women and shaking her head. "Nosy bitches be nosy. It's just the two of us, y'all. Sorry, but it's our business. Y'all're just collateral damage."

"Yes well collateral damage could have gotten me killed last night, had I been the sort of woman they took me for," Anne Marie bristled. "I'm sure would have anyway, had Samantha not come to my aid. I am afraid I am a part of this now, at the very least so that I may sleep well at night knowing that unkillable cattlemen are not coming for me."
 
Alice lit up as the Doc outlined the plan. “Ah like it! Always wanted ta have me an adventure.” She glanced sideways at Sam. “Yer brother? He cute?”

“He’s dead,” Sam yawned, pouring more coffee.

“Sounds like we’re fixin’ ta change that,” Alice smirked. “An’ Ah reckon a fellah kin be mighty grateful fer bein’ brought back to life.”

“Uhm...”. Sam added sugar, trying to work out an answer.

"Sorry I made you go see a head doctor, Dhateste," Jackie said, thankfully changing the subject.

“Ain’t no bother,” Sam answered, taking her hand. “Ah was gettin’ a mite concerned anyhow.”

Jackie’s attention turned to Alice and the Doc. "Nosy bitches be nosy. It's just the two of us, y'all. Sorry, but it's our business. Y'all're just collateral damage."

"Yes well collateral damage could have gotten me killed last night, had I been the sort of woman they took me for," Anne Marie bristled. "I'm sure would have anyway, had Samantha not come to my aid. I am afraid I am a part of this now, at the very least so that I may sleep well at night knowing that unkillable cattlemen are not coming for me."

“An’ y’ain’t gettin’ rid o’ me that easy neither,” Alice huffed. “All kiddin’ aside, y’all need help. An’ it ain’t like one o’ y’all kin pretend ta be her servant, not if’n they know what y’look like.” She grinned. “Besides. Ah kin get a waitressin’ job anytime. Ain’t many chances fer an adventure, though.”

Sam shook her head. “Reckon’ they got us there, Tsidiiligai. Mebbe we kin call ourselves th’ Nosy Bitches?”
 
Jackie grumbled, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in her chair with a huff. "I don't like it," she complained. "More folks taggin' along means more folks to worry about gettin' shot."

"I assure you, Mademoiselle Sparrow, I can handle myself," Anne Marie said before taking another long sip of coffee and thumbing absently through the morning paper.

"Besides," Alice added, "Ah kin get a waitressin' job anytime. Ain't many chances fer an adventure though."

Sam shook her head. "Reckon they got us there, Tsidiiligai. Mebbe we kin call ourselves th' Nosy Bitches?"

"I think perhaps The Lone Ranger may be more appropriate," Anne Marie said, raising her eyebrows as her eyes passed over an article on page two.

"Huh?" Jackie leaned over, trying to read the paper upside down.

"Masked Lone Ranger Rides Into Night With Local Foreigner," the heiress read aloud. "Late last night there was a to-do on the east side of town as gunshots rang out at the home of one A.M. LaMonte, a foreign doctor recently landed from Paris. Nearly twenty men by some reports stormed the two-story home where the resident kept them at bay until rescued by a lone Ranger in a domino mask. The pair lept from a window on the second story onto a waiting silver stallion below before riding west, off into the night. No one has seen or heard from either of the two, and the assailants had scattered by the time authorities arrived at reports of the ruckus." She looked up at the other three women. "Well," she said after a moment. "It seems our friends did not escape unnoticed this time."

"Nope," Jackie agreed. "But I hope y'all took the long way home, because they at least know now the general direction to head."
 
“Ah did,” Sam confirmed. “Rode an hour outta town, then made a big ol’ circle ta come back. It’s why we weren’t hardly back none when y’woke up last night.”

“The Lone Ranger,” Alice mused, looking at the paper. “Got a ring to it, don’t it? But you ain’t no Ranger, Sam.”

“Reckon Ah’m not,” Sam agreed. “But it’ll wrong-foot them dead cowpokes, an’ every little bit helps.” She polished off the last of her coffee. “Cain’t hang around here, though. Just cause Ah lost ‘em last ight don’t mean they cain’t track us down. Alice, go get packin’. When yer done, we’ll see if’n we can’t get back ta th’ Doc’s place an’ get some o’ her stuff, too.” She yes Anne Marie. “Don’t happen ya own a couple o’ horses, do ya?”

Alice hesitated as she rose. “Why?”

“Well,” Sam said, “we sure as hell ain’t walkin’ ta Beckett’s place.”
 
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"I have two horses for a carriage, and an automobile," Anne Marie confirmed. "Unreliable things, automobiles, but very stylish. But since we don't wish to attract attention I think perhaps it is wise to leave it at home and opt instead for horses."

After careful scouting they determined that it was safe for now to enter her house. The place had been turned upside-down, presumably looking for something to tell them where the pair had gone. Anne Marie moved through the house, tsking at the damage but moving to save nothing except for her pictures of Algie...and the wedding photo with Gustav just for appearance's sake. Upstairs she changed from her night dress into something a little darker and less fashionable. Certainly undead ranch hands and spectral Rangers didn't care about fashion, but it still made her feel self-conscious. She coiled the whip and attached it to her belt, her rapier on the other side, and a pistol in her boot. Into her other boot she stuffed a wad of cash, for when she eventually would need to buy a new dress to seduce this Beckett person. If they came back to search, after all, they would notice if she had taken part of her wardrobe with her, and they needed to travel light.

In a trunk at the end of her bed she had a domino mask of her own for her own purposes, but after some thought she decided she might as well. Samantha was, and it would be bad for business if she were seen gallivanting about the countryside with a vigilante. After a moment she also grabbed up an old-fashioned hat she had bought as a souvenir on a weekend trip to Mexico a few months ago and tucked her hair up under it. The resulting ensemble probably would have been dashing on a man or for those who were less aesthetically inclined, but the fashion-forward psychologist judged her appearance in the mirror to be less than ideal. Still, it was a disguise.

"Ready?" she asked as she came down the stairs. She caught Jackie's incredulous look and put her hands on her hips. "What?"

"You about to go rob a Mexican bank, doc?" Jackie tried to stifle her laughter but couldn't help it. "The hell's that all about?"

"Have you never heard of disguises?" Anne Marie shot back indignantly, folding her arms across her chest.

"I've heard of wearing a mask," she confirmed. "But the hat? The old-fashioned weaponry...?"

"Old-fashioned weaponry is all the rage in Paris," she lied defensively.

"Maybe so, but you ain't in Paris no more, doc."
 
“Maybe so, but you ain't in Paris no more, doc."

Sam, who had been in the kitchen with Alice, emerged into the front room once more. “Reckon she ain’t,” she declared, setting down a large bag full of canned food. “But Ah reckon she kin use that sword, so it ain’t no more foolish than mah knife.” She eyed Anne Marie critically. “Y’ain’t gonna be foolin’ nobody into thinkin’ yet a man, though.”

“Sure ain’t,” Alice agreed, clearly enjoying the look of the outfit. She shifted a bag of fresher foods into one hip. “No ma’am, you sure don’t look like a man.”

“Getcher mind outta th’ gutter,” Sam laughed. “It’s easier ya ride in britches.”

“Yeah?” Alice’s eyes gleamed. “Well, Ah can tell you Ah wouldn’t mind...”

“Sammy?”

Cans dropped to the floor as Sam spun, her pistol flashing from her holster. Bart yelped and raised his hands. “Don’ shoot, Sammy!” he called. “It’s me!”

“You know this fellah?” Alice asked.

Sighing, Sam holstered her gun. “He’s my brother,” she said. “One of ‘em. The dead one.” She gave her brother a wicked grin. “An’ Ah’m right glad yer here, Bart. Saves us th’ trouble o’ lookin’ fer y’all.”
 
Beneath the mask Anne Marie's lips pursed. "Well maybe it is better nobody mistakes me for a man," she snapped back. "Women are just as capable of deadly force and of rescuing themselves, after all. And I don't appreciate the ogling, Mademoiselle."

"Take it as a compliment and move on," Jackie suggested gruffly. She continued stuffing food into a bag, knowing they'd have to transfer it to saddlebags before they got on the road.

"Sammy?" In an instant two guns and a sword were trained on the hulk in the doorway. He came through with his hands up, pleading with them not to shoot. With a sigh Sam introduced them to her dead brother.

"Ah, our tour guide, then," Anne Marie said, sheathing her rapier and stepping forward to shake his hand. "Madame Anne Marie LaMonte. I believe we tried to kill one another last night."
 
Bart tipped his hat before removing it. “It’s a right pleasure, ma’am,” he said, as sincerely as he could. “But we weren’t tryin’ ya kill you last night, Miss LaMonte. But Pete spotted Sam here visitin’ you yesterday, an’ reckoned he could make you tell us where ‘that Ranger an’ his squaw’ were hidin.” He glanced at Sam. “Now don’t you look at me like that, Sammy. Them was his words, not mine.”

“Ah don’ care,” Sam snapped, glaring at him. “Call her a ‘squaw’ again, an’ Ah’ll kick yer ass.”

“All right, all right,” he said, holding up his hands. “Ah won’t. Jesus, Sammy, Ah didn’t mean nuthin’.” He paused, then looked back at Anne Marie. “Whaddya mean, tour guide?”

“Grab yerself a seat,” Sam grinned. “We gots ya talk.”

-*-

“Yer in-fuckin’-sane!” Bart declared, before casting a guilty glance at Anne Marie and Alice. “Pardon mah French, ladies.”

Sam had explained the whole scheme to him, and now she sat back and stared at him. “Ain’t got much o’ achiice, have we?” She replied. “We gotta find out where Beckett keeps those coins, after all. An’ what he’s up ta. An’ we gotta get somebody inside ya do it.” Cocking a head, she grinned at Anne Marie. “An’ she’d make a better society lady than Ah would.”

“He keeps the coins hidden,” Bart protested. “In his rooms, somewhere. How would you get in?”

“Dunno,” Sam replied casually. “But th’ Doc’s sure she can.”

“This Beckett fellow,” Alice asked. “He dead like you?” She’d Insisted on feeling his lack of pulse earlier, and had used the opportunity to grope him a little.

“No, ma’am,” Bart replied.

Alice smiled at that. “Well then, Ah reckon me or th’ Doc kin find a way...” she leered, toying with the neck of her blouse.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Easy girl,” she said. “You got a better idea, Bart.”

“No,” he admitted. After a moment, he sighed. “Ah’ll do it. It’s risky, but Ah’ll do it. Give it at least a week ‘fore y’all try anythin’ though. Two’d be better.”

“Why?” asked Alicez

“Take us a week ta get back,” Bart said, rising. “We’re headin’ out this afternoon, lessen’ Ah tell ‘em Ah found y’all.” He winked. “Don’t look like Ah found no Ranger here, though.”
 
“It’s a right pleasure, ma’am,” Bart said, as sincerely as he could. “But we weren’t tryin’ ya kill you last night, Miss LaMonte. But Pete spotted Sam here visitin’ you yesterday, an’ reckoned he could make you tell us where ‘that Ranger an’ his squaw’ were hidin.”

"Ah, so just rape and torture then, was it?" Anne Marie said lightly, almost cheerfully, with the heavy sarcasm nearly undetectable if you weren't listening. "Well, nothing new there and that's just alright then, is it not?"

But the Cavendish siblings were already busy arguing and missed her quip. “Now don’t you look at me like that, Sammy. Them was his words, not mine.”

“Ah don’ care,” Sam snapped, glaring at him. “Call her a ‘squaw’ again, an’ Ah’ll kick yer ass.”

"It's not even Athabaskan!" Jackie griped, not for the first time in regards to the term. "Racist assholes. At least get the terminology right!"

“All right, all right,” he said, holding up his hands. “Ah won’t. Jesus, Sammy, Ah didn’t mean nuthin’.” He paused, then looked back at Anne Marie. “Whaddya mean, tour guide?”

“Grab yerself a seat,” Sam grinned. “We gots ya talk.”

~*~

Anne Marie had snorted when Bart asked them to pardon his French, and Jackie bristled at not being included in the "ladies." Not that she particularly cared about poor language, mind, but it would've been nice to have been thought of as a lady instead of Sam's squaw. Not exactly the right first--or second--impression for her brother-in-law Sam's brother to make. Finally he agreed to the plan and Jackie nodded.

"We'll give ya two weeks," she assured him. "Got us some stuff we gotta get done anyhow. You meet us two miles due West of the ranch at sundown two weeks from today. Don't much fancy gettin' shot at again."

"You can return in the morning, easily impressed French socialite and her servant in tow, and we go from there," Anne Marie agreed. "Unless I have lost my touch, Monsieur Beckett will have given up the location of his treasure before he even realizes that he's said anything. We retrieve the gold, get a little blood from each hand, et voila! You are all alive again, good as new, and I leave this bizarre place once and for all!"
 
“This ain’t what Ah signed up for,” Alice complained, letting the pick clatter to the tunnel floor as she stripped off her gloves.

“What did ya sign up fer?” Sam aske, setting her own pick down and stretching.

Alice examined her hands in the hissing yellow light of the carbide lamp strapped to her head. “Adventure. Seducin’ rich folk an’ findin’ out their secrets. Dime novel stuff.” With a sigh, she scooped some balm out of a tin and worked it into her raw palms. “Damn,” she hissed. “Not rippin’ mah hands up in no damn cave.”

Laughing, Sam picked up her pick. “Mah pa always said that hard work never killed nobody.”

“Yeah?” Alice retorted, pulling her work gloves back on. “Clearly, he never met mah pa.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.” Alice picked up her pick. “Railroad man. Died beatin’ a steam drill. Heart just... burst.”

-*-

Two weeks passed in a haze of sweat and aching muscles as the four of them chopped at a vein of reasonably pure silver ore, and then smelted and refined it into small bars. From there the bars were melted again and poured into molds, casting .45 caliber bullets for the pistols and rifles, and pellets for the shotguns.

-*-

“There,” Sam announced, examining the leather strands. “That’ll hold, Ah reckon.”

She’d had an idea a few days back, and had finally talked Anne Marie into handing over the bullwhip. It was three long strips of leather, braided together, and she’d carefully unbranded the last four inches. Then she’d braided it back together, wrapping the leather around small pellets of silver that glittered in the sunlight.

Grunting a little as she rose to her feet, she snapped the whip out and then lashed a large rock near the mine entrance. There was a loud cracking sound, and bits of stonesplintered away. Whooping with delight, she did it one more time for good measure.

“There you go, Doc,” she laughed, coiling the whip back up. “Couldn’t figure how ta put silver on yer sword without spoilin’ it, so Ah reckon that’ll do ya.”

-*-

For Sam, at least, the worst or it was the overnight trip back to town to recover Anne Marie’s automobile - something they all agreed was necessary to the deception around getting into the ranch. Between casting and making the bullets and teaching Alice how to shoot, she hadn’t been able to go. So Jackie and Anne Marie went.

It was foolish, she knew. Jackie was damn good at things, and a damn sight more careful than she was. But she had trouble sleeping that night, missing Jackie next to her and worrying that something might happen. She only relaxed late the next afternoon, when she heard the puttering of the engine and saw Jackie riding behind, leading Anne Marie’s horse behind.

-*-

Sam settled into Jackie’s embrace, feeling warm and well-used. “Gawd, yer good,” she whispered, tasting herself on her lover’s lips as she kissed her. “An Gawd Ah missed you.” She wanted to say more, but wasn’t sure how. Things seemed so, so comfortable between them right now. Did she want to risk saying she was in love again? Jackie hadn’t wanted to hear it, last time she’d said it.

Last time...

Frowning, she drummed her fingers gently in Jackie’s hip as she counted something out. “Shit,” she finally breathed. “Ah, that is... Ah’m late, Jackie. Real late. Like, nearly two months.”

She touched her own belly tentatively, examining herself. “Ah... do y’really think Ah might... might be... pregnant?”
 
It was a long, very long, couple of weeks for Anne Marie. She'd given up on trying to get them to stop calling her a doctor; she was too tired for that anymore. If there was something that she wasn't good at, it was manual labor. She felt her shortcomings sharply as she worked more slowly and rubbed her palms with more soothing balm than the other three women. Was this how she made them feel? No...no that couldn't be right. There was no shame in not having to work with her hands to get by. Instead of focusing on her insecurities, however, she chose to remind Alice whenever she complained about this sort of work that real espionage wasn't "pulp stuff" either.

"The pulp writers are charlatans," she was fond of saying, "and haven't done even the briefest of research on all of the terribly dull parts of what you have so appropriately termed 'pulp stuff.'"

Jackie had a somewhat better time of it, being used to hard work. It was a relief, however, when it came to processing and casting the silver and they could all give their arms a rest. Besides, she had been queasy nearly the entire time they were mining the silver and it was nice to not have to swing a pickaxe while trying to keep her breakfast down. She and the doc hadn't had much to talk about on their way into town, however. She was paranoid the Frenchwoman was constantly analyzing her and judging her, and they just didn't have much in common. Add on top of that the danger of being spotted or recognized and she was relieved to finally be back at their camp.

"I missed you too, Dhateste," Jackie sighed, wrapping one arm around Sam's shoulder and the other around her waist. "I'll be even happier when we finally got some privacy again, y'know?" It was Anne Marie's watch but they'd still had to sneak into a deeper part of the cavern for some privacy. Even then it wasn't guaranteed; there was no way to know whether their echoes had carried.

There was silence for a while between them, and Jackie thought she knew what it was all about. She may have been a little more comfortable than she was before with saying the l-word...but it still felt unnatural. It felt like being tied down, even if she felt it too. But if Sam wanted to say--

"Shit," she breathed.

Jackie frowned, caught off-guard. "What?"

“Ah, that is... Ah’m late, Jackie. Real late. Like, nearly two months.” Shit. It wasn't unfeasible, after all. Sam touched her own belly tentatively, examining herself. “Ah... do y’really think Ah might... might be..." Don't say it. Don't say it! "...pregnant?” Fuck.

Jackie sighed and thought for a moment. "Well, I been with pregnant women before," she said, and it wasn't a lie, "I think I woulda noticed somethin' was off. C'mere, Dr. Jackie on the case." She rolled onto her side, facing Sam in the dimly lit nook of the cave. Slowly she stroked her with two fingers, chuckling as she hit Sam's sensitive clit, then slid two fingers inside her. Slowly she slid her fingers in and out of Sam's tight cunt several times. "No, you don't feel pregnant..." She withdrew her fingers and brought them to her mouth, slowly sucking her lover's juices off of her fingers with a light groan before pretending to think. "And you don't taste pregnant..." She slipped her fingers into Sam again, pretending to think. "Think you're prolly in the clear. 'Sides, it's one symptom. If that means you're pregnant then I must be too because my tits've been killing me the past week and a half and Aunt Flo's not givin' up the goods." She chuckled, curling her fingers in a 'come here' motion inside Sam and biting her lip at the reactions she elicited.

"Besides, even if we are what's the worst that could happen?" she said after a few moments of concentrated attention on her lover's pleasure, but didn't stop slowly pleasuring her as she spoke. "We tell your brother to tell Beckett's men the Lone Ranger got himself some cirrhosis. Dunno what that rightly is, but there was a village elder once...we thought maybe he was a two-spirit all along and didn't bother tellin' no one, but then he up and died and the white doctor said it was cirrhosis made him look that way. So we tell Bart to tell 'em you got cirrhosis and died. Then we move somewhere, have us our babies and a white picket fence, you be the daddy I'll be the momma. We get ourselves lynched at the ripe old age of 25 coz our good, God-fearing Christian neighbors don't think a white dyke and a Imjin dyke raisin' up the two prettiest little half-breed black babies you ever saw is right. They get shipped off to Ma, who teaches 'em whatever shaman bullshit it is she does, and how to communicate with spirits. We threaten to spiritually kick their asses and haunt them coz George Washington cheats at cards and we were about to kick his ass for it. They settle down with a couple'a gorgeous Chinks to complete our little rainbow family, and racism is solved forever and ever amen." Jackie grinned in the dark. "So y'see? If you are, we'll figure it out. Very worst case scenario, our baby solves racism and avenges our deaths." She kissed her slowly. "Or, y'know...we kin find someone to...y'know...take care of it." Her fingers paused and her eyes darted around, uncomfortable with mentioning the alternative. "I'm sure Doc knows someone; they probably do that sorta thing all the time in France. If that's what you want. I mean personally I'm not a big fan of kids, but I always keep hearing it's different when it's your own. So, y'know...whatever you feel ready for, we'll figure something out. Promise."

"Either way," Jackie continued after a long pause, "I better practice at bein' good at discipline. I'm afraid you're grounded, young lady." She slid down her body, gently parting her folds and sliding her tongue along her slit. "No more big, black preacher cock for you. Not for a long time." She groaned as she slipped her tongue inside her along with her fingers. "You're lucky I don't put you over my knee for it."
 
There was a moment, it’s a moment, where Sam thought Jackie was being serious. But there was something in her lover’s expression, something playful, that made a fit of giggles War with a gasp of pleasure as skilled fingers filled her. “Yer tits...aaa... hey? Mebbe Ah should, should... Gawd... massage ‘em?”

But Jackie wasn’t done fingering her and teasing her with some fool talk about liver problems and getting lynched and haunting their babies. “Yeh... talk too damn much...” she gasped, arching her back and spreading her legs, giving Jackie more access. But then she mentioned endingbthe pregnancy, if she was pregnant, and that soured the fun a little.

“Ah... dunno,” she said, wishing they weren’t having this talk with three of Jackie’s fingers in her. “Ah... Ah mean, it’s mah baby, y’know?” She stroked a hand over her still-flat stomach. “An’ it ain’t like BD, t’know, forced me or nothin’. Ah...” With a sigh, she smiled at Jackie. “Hell, you’ll be there wit’ me - even if’n we gotta come back from th’ dead, right. Reckon Ah kin handle raisin’ a baby, wit’ yer help.”

There was a long pause, a sort of comfortable silence that spoke volumes. Then Jackie grinned. "Either way, I better practice at bein' good at discipline.”

“Oh?” Sam purred, feeling a new shiver of must go through her. “How y’gonns do that?”

“I'm afraid you're grounded, young lady." She slid down her body, drawing a gasp from Sam as her tongue caressed her slit.

“An’... an’ what’s that mean?” Sam gasped.

“No more big, black preacher cock for you. Not for a long time." Sam groaned as Jackie’s fingers filled her, a finger counterpoint to the silky softness of her tongue. "You're lucky I don't put you over my knee for it."

“Ah...”. Sam gasped, eyes wide and hips moving rhythmically against Jackie’s mouth and hand. “Mebbe.., oh, oh fuck...”. She cupped her own breast with her left hand, pinching her nipple as her right hand gripped Jackie’s braid. “Mebbe... y’shoukd..,” she groaned. “Reckon.., Ah been.. a bad,,, bad girl..,”.

Her breath caught as Jackie’s teeth grazed her clit. “Ah... Ah done... been thinkin’ ‘bout... some, some big black cock...” she moaned, hervthighs gripping Jackie’s face as she rocked up into her lover’s attentions. “Yer gonna ... hafta... learn me.., th’ error... oh God... oh mah ways...”
 
"Ah...dunno," Sam said hesitantly. "Ah... Ah mean, it’s mah baby, y’know? An’ it ain’t like BD, t’know, forced me or nothin’."

"Then haunting our babies for interrupting poker with Washington it is," Jackie said, as though that settled it. She was unwilling to be entirely truthful with Sam right now, to tell her that she was scared shitless. She wasn't mother material and she knew it; she never had been. She had never wanted children, never liked children...but she supposed if it was with Sam she wouldn't mind so much. And she had always heard that it was different when it was your own kids. Sam seemed to grow used to the idea, so she let it go and vowed to work on the idea on her own. No good ever came of a kid with a deadbeat parent, after all; she oughtta know.

"Mebbe...y'should," Sam groaned, writhing beneath her in response to her threats of discipline. "Reckon...Ah been...a bad...bad girl..."

"That right?" Jackie's teeth grazed her clit and she teased it with the tip of her tongue. "How d'you reckon? Hm?"

"Ah...Ah done...been thinkin' 'bout...some, some big black cock..." she moaned. A ribbon of lust thrilled through her when Sam held her face tight between her thighs. Probably the best place in the world was between Sam's thighs, and even better when they were pressed against her face like this. "Yer gonna...hafta...learn me...th' error...oh God...of mah ways..."

"Seems so," Jackie murmured in agreement, gripping her hip with her free hand and pushing her fingers deeper inside her lover. Her tongue worked counterpoint, lapping luxuriously at her clit, taking her time to moan against Sam's dripping sex. "I don't like disobedience, y'know. I won't tolerate it from our baby and I won't tolerate it from you." Tightening her grip on Sam's hip, she pulled her fingers out and used both hands to flip Sam onto her stomach and slap her ass sharply. "Been thinkin' about cock have you?" With one hand pinning her, the other groped toward her pack and pulled out the strap-on in its harness. It took a minute, but she managed to pull it on, sighing at the feeling of penetration from the toy on the inside. "Well, I'll just have to make sure this is the only cock you think about from now on..."

Slowly she slid the other end of the dildo inside her, biting her lip at Sam's moans and sighs. One hand remained on her hip, pulling her ass higher, while the other tangled in her hair. It was long enough now for a small ponytail and she wrapped her hair as well as she could around her fist, clenching it hard near her scalp. The motion of the toy sinking deeper into her as she thrust slowly into Sam, the idea that she was having her baby, was nearly overwhelming and only made her want her more.
 
Still stinging from Jackie’s slap against her rump, Sam wriggled her ass against her lover’s restraining hand. “Been thinkin' about cock have you?" Jackie teased,

“Mmmm...” Sam moaned, biting her lip. “Alla damn time.” She gripped the blanket beneath her, arching her hips to push up against Jackie. “Big ol’ thick dick,” she gasped, spreading her knees. “Jes’ stretchin’ me out.”

She listened in eager anticipation to the sounds of Jackie opening a bag, and to her sigh of pleasure. “Well, I'll just have to make sure this is the only cock you think about from now on..."

“Yer gonna need ta be real convincin’,” Sam replied, licking her lips and angling her hips. The hard rod of Jackie’s strap-on brushed her skin, drawing a low moan from her. “Ain’t... ain’t sure...” She gasped as it pushed into her, forcing her inner walls to stretch around the dildo. “Ain’t sure... y’got... anythin’...”. Jackie grabbed her shaggy blonde hair and she pushed up with the motion, moaning as the difficult filled her. Jackie’s soft belly against her ass was a delicious contrast to the unyielding rod she was impaled on.

“Oh... oh fuck...” she gasped, rocking her body backwards, begging to feel the dildo deep in her. “Oh... oh Gawd... Jackie... fuck... fuck... me...”

-*-

Rubbing her eyes, Alice wrapped her blanket around her shoulders as she felt her way towards the mouth of the cave. “Hey, Doc,” she said, covering her mouth to hide a jaw-cracking yawn. “Mind if I join you?”

She settled down near Anne Marie, drawing the blanket around her and leaning against the tunnel wall. “Them two are goin’ at it hard, an’ th’ racket’s keepin’ me up. Figured if I couldn’t sleep, may as well come help watch.”
 
"Bonjour," Anne Marie said absently, stirred from her thought when Alice came to sit with her. Her mind had been elsewhere. "They certainly do seem passionate about one another, do they not?" She stretched her arms, managing to get a few good pops out of her shoulders and back.

"So what are your plans after this, Alice?" she asked at length, figuring she ought to make conversation since she seemed to be there to stay. "Adventure does not last forever. Not unless you make a career of it, anyway."

~*~

Jackie's hand cracked against her flank again. "Did you think you were in charge here?" she growled, pulling back so that Sam couldn't push the dildo deeper into her. She tugged on her hair gently. "Ain't got nothin' huh?"

Her hand slid from her ass up to her shoulder then back down again, dragging her nails along Sam's flesh, while with the other hand she held her still with her hair in her fist. She teased the blonde, sliding the toy out nearly all the way and moving just the tip in and out with shallow thrusts. Then, all at once, she plunged in up to the hilt, thrusting hard.

"Your preacher ever do this for ya?" she demanded, forcing Sam to look at the ceiling of the cave while she thrust into her hard. "Huh?"
 
“That they do,” Alice agreed. “Not that Ah got me a problem with that, mind. But Ah wish they’d keep it down.”

“So what are your plans after this, Alice?" Anne Marie asked.

“Hm? My plans?” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“Adventure does not last forever,” the French woman added. “Not unless you make a career of it, anyway."

“Ah... don’t know,” she confessed. “Shoot, until Ah met y’all, leavin’ home an’ goin’ to Abeline was the adventure. Seems pretty tame, now. But...” her voice turned shy, “if Ah could do anything, Ah’d love to fly. Got me a good head for heights, and they got them new aeroplanes now. But...”

A sigh. “That’s probably crazy talk, ain’t it?”

-*-

Sam moaned, fists clenching the blanket as Jackie’s nails raked down her back. The fist clenched in her hair forced her neck and back to arch, and she stared blindly at the roof as she whimpered and tried to move back against the dildo teasing her slit.

"Your preacher ever do this for ya?" Jackie demanded, forcing Sam to look at the ceiling of the cave while she thrust into her hard. "Huh?"

It took Sam a moment to find her breath as she clenched around the toy. “No... no...” she managed, finding speech hard. “Fuck... no... he... he didn’t...”. A shudder of pleasure ripples through her. “Ain’t... ain’t nobody... fucks... fucks me... like... like you...”

She whimpered again as Jackie pulled harder in her hair. “Gawd... Jackie... Ah... Ah wanna... Gawd... fuck me...”
 
"Ain't...ain't nobody...fucks...fucks me....like...like you..." Sam stammered as Jackie pounded into her.

"Damn right they don't," she snarled, clenching around the other end of the toy. "Ain't no preacher gonna raise my baby, is he?" She leaned over and bit Sam's shoulder lightly, gripping her hip and tugging on her hair. "Tell me you wanna have my baby. Tell me what you want me to do to you."

She whimpered again as Jackie pulled harder on her hair. "Gawd...Jackie...Ah...Ah wanna...Gawd...fuck me..."

"Mmm I love it when you beg." She kissed the back of Sam's neck and straightened again to get better leverage. "Beg me to let you cum."

~*~

"That's probably crazy talk, ain't it?" Alice sighed after talking about flying. Anne Marie shook her head.

"Not at all," she said. "I have been in one of these aeroplanes and it truly is an incredible experience. Not entirely my cup of tea, but I know a few formidable women who know how to fly those contraptions. I could introduce you to some, you know." She glanced sideways at her. "I'm afraid I do not plan on staying in Texas after this is all over; I've written to a friend for passage on his ship. I could take you as far as Paris."
 
“Mmm I love it when you beg." Sam gasped as the tension in her hair and the relentless motion of the dildo in her cunt eased, and Jackie’s soft lips caressed the back of her neck. Then she straightened, resuming control. "Beg me to let you cum."

“Gawd,” Sam moaned, rolling her hips to take more of the dildo and to push it back into Jackie. “Gawd, baby... lemme cum. Please, Jackie. Make me cum.”

Muscles in her arms flexed as she pushed hersel back, and she gasped at the exquisite sensation as she felt the dildo enervate deeper into her. “Gawd!” She cried out. “Please... please make me cum!” Her ass flexed in time with her arms and back, moving in Jackie’s toy with a wanton urgency. “Please,,, Gawd, Please,,, Ah... Ah need ta cum, Jackie! Let... make me cum!”

-*-

“Paris?” Alice gasped the word, shock and delight gleaming in her chocolate eyes. “Me, in Paris? I never dreamed... I mean, I did dream, but to really go? That’s...”

A sudden look caution dampened the joy in her eyes. “Wait. I may not’ve seen much of the world, but... what’s in it for you?” She settled back against the wall. “My papa always told me you don’t get something for nothing, and I ain’t never seen nobody prove him wrong.”

She gnawed at her thumbnail, conflicted. “I mean, I think I can trust you. You’ve been a straight shooter since I met you. But... really. What’s in it for you?”
 
"Well, your father is a wise man," Anne Marie conceded with a nod. "But for once my intentions are purely philanthropic. What is in it for me is seeing another lovely young woman out from under the control of men." She crinkled her nose and gestured in the direction of town. "Men run that town, and a woman has little chance of ever striking out on her own, especially if she is from there, or somewhere else in this God-forsaken desert." She shook her head. "I see potential in you, Alice. Potential and ambition. And I want you to have a chance at being able to realize that ambition."

She stretched out and leaned back on her hands, looking out at the stars. That was one thing she could give this place over Paris: you could always see the stars at night. "Don't get me wrong: you absolutely cannot trust me, though I'm flattered that you feel otherwise. But I am being honest with you on this. A trip to Paris, no strings attached, and what you do after that is your own business."

~*~

Sam's moaning alone would have pushed her over the edge. So would her begging, and the way her muscles flexed as she strained and pushed herself back on the dildo. But all three of them together? Jackie didn't stand a chance. Her mouth dropped open briefly as she concentrated hard on holding off her own orgasm.

Jackie leaned over a little, not easing up on the tension on Sam's hair, and slid her free hand from her hip around to Sam's clit. "Cum for me Sammy," she whispered, pounding her lover hard and rubbing her clit in time with her thrusts. It was too much for her. Jackie gasped, groaning as her cunt pulsed and clenched around the toy, moving it inside Sam as well as she thrust into her. "Scream my name."
 
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