Guns of Fire and Satin

A golden sunset cast over a dusty western town.

A horse trots down the road.

It stops in front of a saloon.

A woman hops off, her long black coat tails flutter over her knee-high boots, her hefty pants tucked into them.

She removes her wide-brim black hat to reveal wild, curly auburn hair that blends into the backdrop of the sunset’s golden-orange ambers with reddish undertones. While her dark attire says bounty hunter undertaker, with a feminine touch.

She ropes her horse and looks up at the freshly painted sign: “Wyatt Saloon”. A grin crawls across her face.

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Inside the saloon, drunken men gaze at the bartender: rosy-cheeks, silky skin, curly brown hair in a loose updo. Hand gestures like snow white delicate strokes almost as if dancing in graceful movements. like she belongs in a princess story not a western town, certainly not as a bartender serving rumbunctious surly men. Lilianna.

“C’mon honey! Only for a little while! Sing for me!” a man slurs and prods at her.

Suddenly everything quiets down… the ambiance changes as a prominent figure’s presence is felt.

The man turns around.

It’s the woman from earlier –Fyra—at the entrance.

She walks through the saloon spurs singing, everybody stares at her, as if they sense gunslinger quick on the trigger.

She stops directly behind the man.

The snarly man crumples away from the counter and clears a space for Fyra.

Fyra sits down and the piano man starts back and breaks the silence.

Liliana smiles at her.

“And they told me you finally met your match! You still drink the same?” she says as she tosses a glass to Fyra and leans on the counter.

Fyra lights up a cigar.

“My “match”? Got to be somewhere in a mirror.”

“Ha, that’s what I thought. So what brings you to these parts? Ain’t no action for a gal of your chops here.”

Fyra puffs out a cloud of smoke.

“No. I came to collect.”  She says as she drinks.

Lilianna grins. “Collect? Collect what?”

“You.”

Lilianna turns ashen. “Me?”

Fyra laughs. “Calm down, silly! Don’t tell me you fear me as some bounty hunter before you trust me as a friend!”

Lilianna flushes, “Well, you’ve been building quite the reputation and the rumors these past days have been—”

“I just need your help for something. No strings attached, no obligation… I’m asking… not demanding.”

She takes another swig, “But it does mean leaving this town.”

“To where?”

“Boone.”

“Boone! Why, that’s a whole week from here!”

“Yeh. That’s why I’m prepared to sweeten the pot. I need you to help me round up a couple men I’m hunting. Now you know I typically get the job done with just my iron but this time its different. They want them alive, uninjured, and ready to talk. I’m not sure how good I can be in a case like that since the target’s awfully difficult.”

Liliana stares at her.

“The men fetch a pretty penny. With your cut you’ll have enough to put up a business of your own. This could be “Satin’s Saloon”. Operate on your own rules. Your own time. Whatever kinda business you want. You don’t need to be serving no raunchy guys in some hot joint all day.”

She puffs out of her cigar.

“And all for a few days’ work. You’re a good shot but your contribution would be something I’m not good at: finesse. Which would be your primary role.”

Liliana is still silent.

“Well?” Frya says.

“How long are ya gonna be here?”

“Figure I’ll grab a room at The Irma Inn. Saddle up about midday t’morrow.”

“I’ll have my answer by midday, then.”

Fyra gets up as she lights up another cigar.

“Sure thing, Lil. As I said--it’s just a request. All up to you.”

She drops some money and walks out.

Liliana stares after her as some patron tries to get her attention, until finally he shouts.

“Whiskey, sweetness!”

Lilianna snaps out of it and fixes the man a drink.

Back outside, it’s dark.

Fyra unlatches her horse and starts walking it down the road toward the inn.

“You’re planning on taking her away again, are ya?”

A voice asks from the shadows.

Fyra turns around.

A tall, sharply dressed man comes out from the shadows and into the dim moonlight.

“Abbott? What’re you doin’ here?” Fyra asks.

“I followed her here.”

“Liliana?”

“Yeh. I mean, a few years back, I been pursuin’ her… and I, I finally got through.”

“Got through? What do you mean?”

“When she first came here, she hated it. She would’ve done anything to leave at the drop of a hat, yeh she didn’t like the place much. But I take it… she didn’t bite on your offer to leave, at least not right away, did she?”

Fyra looks on.

“Why wouldn’t she, if she hated it? Unless… unless something changed. You see, I saw you ride through and I figured you were after her cause you two’s history. The best tag team: The dynamic Satin and Fire. But since you two split, these past couple years we struck up a real close relationship over time and… I was just thinking ‘bout settling down with her…”

Fyra squints.

“And as you probably guessed by now she’s likely thinking about the same thing. Otherwise, she’d probably jump at the chance to leave wit ya. But… I’m not gonna twist her arm... I’d still rather her make the best choice to be happy.”

He throws down his cigarette and squashes his boot on it before walking over to the saloon doors and entering.

Fyra glances inside though the swinging doors to see Liliana with her arms around Abbott—elated.

“Hm. So that’s the hold up.” She says as she continues toward the inn.

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DAWN

Fyra’s having breakfast at the inn.

Liliana walks in.

“Hey. Fancy seeing you here,” Fyra says to her.

Liliana smiles.

“Have a seat,” Fyra says, “Miss! One more coffee.”

Liliana grabs a seat.

The hostess puts down a cup and pours some coffee.

“Thank you,” Liliana says.

Fyra takes a bite out of her biscuit.

“Well? What says Satin?”

Liliana stares at her. The soft dawn sun glistens against her soft delicate cheeks. Looking like that Cinderella princess again.

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Outside.

Midday.

Fyra is pushing a carriage down the street. Riding alone. She gets closer to two people standing roadside. It’s Liliana and Abott.

Fyra stops.

Abott and Liliana face each, “Don’t forget…” he says to her before they lock in an embrace.

A goodbye embrace.

Fyra tosses Liliana a long gun, “Haven’t forgotten how to use it, have ya?”

Liliana grins “been a long time since I rode shotgun,” she says as she boards.

They ride off in a cloud of dust.