Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

The story thus far: Seeking a missing Texas Ranger, our old acquaintance The Tequila Kid comes across a poor family named Miller. Like many others in the area, this widow Sarah and her two little girls, Amy and Cindy, have been brutalized by a wealthy scoundrel named McCuller, who intends to drive away all the owners of small farms and ranches in the area and take their land. Later, drying off from heavy rain at the local stable, Sheriff Lucas Clay comes in search of The Kid, demanding she surrender her guns. Knowing Clay to be corrupt (and in league with McCuller), The Kid asks to speak with him in private. Moments later at the jail, he threatens her, and she deals him a beat-down, then informs him that she means to arrest McCuller and Tyson Avidite (a banker who is part of the conspiracy) before she leaves.

From the sheriff’s office, she goes to the Silver Slipper, the town’s saloon, gambling house and brothel. There, she encounters a young man named Jud Nelson, who she’d seen Sheriff Clay harass earlier. Recognizing him as a decent sort, she hires him to watch the jail to see if Clay leaves. Then she meets a twelve-year-old girl named Dixie, who does menial work at the Silver Slipper and is bullied by Toots, the brutish bartender. The Kid asks Dixie which girl is the most popular of the whores. Star, the girl replies, and The Kid gives Dixie the money to pay for Star’s services that evening.

Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, The Kid enjoys an intense hour of sex with Star. Afterwards, she asks the prostitute a few questions about the town and its doings. She learns that Clark Hansen, the missing Texas Ranger she seeks, disappeared around the same time as Dixie’s older sister Dallas, who was one of the whores at the Silver Slipper. The Kid asks about Ben McCuller, but Star refuses to answer, claiming “it’s too dangerous.” When The Kid goes back downstairs, Jud returns to let her know that Sheriff Clay just left town, riding hard in the direction of McCuller’s place.

Figuring she’s done as much as she can for one night, The Kid decides to join an ongoing card game, where she ends up winning a decent amount of money, as well as a neglected horse, which she takes to the local stable where her own horse is being kept.

The next morning, The Kid is informed by Jud Nelson that Cy Warren, McCuller’s enforcer and dirty-jobs man, has just entered the sheriff’s office, using a key. On their way to confront him, The Kid is taken aback to recognize the horse Cy has hitched up outside as Thunder, who she knows to be the property of Clark Hansen, the missing Texas Ranger she is seeking. More determined than ever to get answers from Cy Warren, she boldly strides into the sheriff’s office, a nervous Jud close behind.

The Kid quickly catches Warren in an obvious lie about his having purchased Hansen’s horse, and arrests him on the spot, drawing her gun before he can. Once Cy is locked up, she and Jud set off for banker Tyson Avidite’s office. With the genuine ranch deeds in her possession, she and Jud quickly establish that the ones Avidite is holding for McCuller are obvious forgeries, created in an effort to steal the area’s small ranches from their rightful owners.  Confronted by the evidence, Avidite breaks down and confesses to his role in McCuller’s crooked conspiracy. 

Later that day, The Kid steals onto McCuller’s land while he is away. She encounters his vicious pair of trained dogs, and deploys Indian methods she learned as a young girl to make friends with them. That accomplished, she carefully breaks into his study, where she fiddles with a certain something in the man’s desk drawer before making her escape.

The Kid has one more task to accomplish before turning in. She drops by the Silver Slipper to liberate the young girl Dixie from her menial position. The vicious bartender Toots is intent on stopping The Kid, but she takes him down with a couple of well-placed punches, then helps herself to a large wad of cash from the man’s pocket for Dixie’s back wages. The Kid and the girl then depart, leaving an enraged Toots behind.

The Kid takes Dixie out for a decent meal, buys her a new set of clothes, then gets them a room at a local boarding house. After a bath, The Kid plans to turn in for the night… but Dixie has other ideas, insisting on making love to her benefactor as a way of saying thanks. The Kid finds the sweet young thing impossible to resist. 

The next morning, on her way to the sheriff’s office, The Kid happens upon two men loading a large wagon with food and supplies, and quickly realizes they work for McCuller. When they beat a man for begging for a little flour, she arrests them both, putting them in jail along with Cy Warren. Once they’re locked up, she asks Jud Nelson to return the deeds McCuller stole to the families he took them from — along with a thousand dollars for each family, taken from McCuller’s bank account, and the contents of take the wagon of supplies.

By that time, The Kid is obliged to cut Warren loose, but she refuses to give him back his horse (who belonged to the missing Ranger Hansen), forcing him to walk back to McCuller’s ranch. Needless to say, Cy Warren is quite displeased.

The Kid takes Dixie to the Miller home, asking Sarah if she can take the girl in. Sarah immediately consents. Her daughters Cindy and Amy quickly take a liking to Dixie (whose real name, we learn, is Clara), and agree with their mother. 

That night, The Kid beds down in the Millers’ barn, keeping a lookout. Before turning in, Sarah gives her daughters a bath, along with Clara/Dixie. Later, Sarah pays The Kid a late-night visit, and ends up slipping into The Kid’s bedroll to keep warm. There, she mentions having bathed the girls. The Kid wonders out loud why Sarah’s daughters don’t wash themselves, then gets the young mother to admit that she very much enjoys seeing the girls nude. By then, Sarah is so aroused that The Kid easily seduces her, and they begin to make love.

Meanwhile, Clara is in bed with her new sisters, teaching them some very intimate games. Cindy and Amy have already explored kissing with one another, but Clara gets them to go much further. They all have a lovely time.

Sarah, on the other hand, is so troubled by illicit thoughts of her daughters that she pulls away from The Kid, apologizes and leaves. Returning to the house, she is surprised to find Clara waiting in her bed. Sarah resists, but Clara’s seductive skills are so well-honed that she ends up giving in, allowing the girl to make love to her. One at a time, Any and Cindy are awakened by the sounds of passion, wander to their mother’s room to investigate, and end up joining in the sexual abandon. Sarah gives into her newly discovered desire and makes love to both her children, as well as Clara.

Meanwhile, evil rancher McCuller has assembled an army of rough men to drive the small farmers and ranchers out of the area for good, killing them if need be. He also hires notorious gunman Kid Coley (who widowed Sarah Miller a couple of months earlier when he shot down her husband) to kill the Tequila Kid. 

After releasing McCuller’s men Sam and Cookie, The Kid heads over to the Silver Slipper for a drink with Jud. When the bartender Toots sees them, he seizes a gun and tries to shoot The Kid, but Star blocks the shot and dies herself.

As McCuller’s army prepares to ride, Kid Coley, on his way to kill the Tequila Kid, pays a visit to the Miller home, intent on raping and killing Sarah Miller and her little girls, unaware that The Kid is lying in waiting for him. She challenges hum. Coley accepts, but his attempt to cheat backfires, and The Kid gets off a fatal shot. Before he dies, Coley triumphantly lets The Kid know about McCuller’s invaders and their plan to burn out the local small ranches and farms. Horrified by this revelation, she slings Coley’s corpse over his horse and sets off for McCuller’s ranch, with only enough time for a shouted farewell to Sarah and the girls. 

And now, dear readers, we make our way into the thrilling final installment. Read on…

by Purple Les

Sam and Cookie returned to the ranch with their empty wagon just as McCuller’s crew of toughs was preparing to ride. The men were armed to the teeth, and half of them carried cans of kerosene and coal oil, earmarked to burn down the sodbuster homes.

Nervously approaching McCuller, hats in their hands, the two cooks told McCuller of their ordeal – how The Tequila Kid put them under arrest, clapped them both in jail for the night, then stole the supplies in their wagon.

To their enormous relief, the boss wasn’t too bothered. Cy Warren had already filled him in on their arrest, and though McCuller hadn’t known about the stolen supplies, he brushed off the loss for the moment. “Boys, you can forget about that damned Tequila Kid. We’ve got a hole dug for her out back, and that bitch will be lying in it this time tomorrow. As for the supplies…” McCuller mulled it over.

“We can go back, boss,” said Cookie, eager for the chance to make things right. “Just need to swap out the horses–”

“Not right now,” McCuller said, shaking his head. “I need you to ride out with the boys. The raid’s about to happen, and I can’t spare a man. We have enough grub to hold us for a couple of days. For now, get a horse and saddle up.”

“Yessir, boss.” Cookie made for the stable.

Sam began to follow, but McCuller stopped him, “Not you, Sam. I need you here to get that side of beef smoked. I’ll help you hoist it up on the spit when you’ve got the fire right.”

As the men prepared to depart, McCuller moved among them with words of encouragement and slaps on the back. Soon the lot of them rode off, headed for town and the sheriff’s office.

Sam had a fire pit ready to barbecue, with a cord of fine mesquite to smoke the meat. It would take a couple of hours to get the fire to the intensity he wanted before the beef could be put on the spit. In the meantime, the sauce needed to be made – about five gallons, he figured.

He’d just come out of McCuller’s house to fetch water, lugging a large oaken bucket. Glancing off into the distance, he stopped cold on the porch at the sight of a rider and two horses. The second horse bore some kind of load, and as the rider drew nearer, Sam realized it was a body, draped over its back.

Must be Kid Coley with that dead Ranger, He thought. Good. Mr McCuller’s plans are all comin’ together..

As the rider approached the porch, Sam’s eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he whispered, setting the bucket down.

The Kid said, “Go tell your boss I got a Christmas present for him.”

Sam scurried into the house without a word. A moment later Ben McCuller stepped onto the porch, his face ashen at the sight of the body that had been cut loose from the saddle, then unceremoniously dumped on the ground. The light from the open door of the house shone on Kid Coley’s pale, dead face.

McCuller snapped his fingers twice. His dogs emerged from the open door to stand on either side of him. When he stepped down from the porch, the huge beasts followed. In the cold air of early evening, steam issued from their nostrils and mouths. In the light from the lantern they seemed more like black shadows, only with white fangs jutting behind their curled lips.

McCuller finally tilted his head to look up at the rider. His eyes smoldered with fury, but he wore a tight smile. “Well, I suppose you must be that Tequila Kid, the Texas Ranger I’ve heard tell of. And you’ve come calling with a corpse, I see. Now why don’t you step down and tell me what this is all about.”

Glancing around, The Kid rode Button back about thirty feet to a corral, leading Coley’s horse along. She dismounted, tied the horses’ reins to a rail, then began to make her way back to McCuller.

Ben McCuller’s voice was barely audible as he hissed, “Sic ‘em.”

Snarling, the huge black beasts plunged forward and raced toward The Kid, their jaws gnashing furiously.

Squatting down, The Kid rested both forearms on her knees with hands extended, the way Four Feathers had taught her years ago, then loudly intoned a few words in Mojave. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, remaining utterly motionless in the face of such savage power as it barrelled toward her.

An instant before their attack, the dogs came to an abrupt stop in front of The Kid. They sniffed her hands, then the rest of her body, finally burrowing their faces into her crotch. Satisfied, they began to lick her face. Slowly getting to her feet, The Kid scratched both dogs behind the ears.

McCuller was thunderstruck, No one, no one had ever bested his dogs. He whispered to Sam, “What the hell’s going on here? They should’ve torn her to bits by now.”

Sam had gone pale. “I’ve heard tell ‘bout that gal,” he muttered “There’s some kinda strong Injun medicine she got. They say she can command any animal, and bullets can’t hit her.”

“Bullshit,” McCuller snorted. “Go make that hole a little bigger. When you’re done with that, dig through Coley’s pockets and gear and find my money.”

“Yessir, Mister McCuller.”

The Kid watched Sam run off as she strode toward the house, a dog on either side. She came to a halt before McCuller, who could clearly see her tattooed chin and clear blue eyes in the lantern light. He noticed the bullet hole in her Stetson hat. Did Coley do that? he wondered.

McCuller gave a sharp whistle, and the dogs ambled over. He said, “Sit.” and they took up positions on either side of him. “Uh, my apologies for the dogs. Sometimes they get a bit too excited when strangers appear. Now, then, what’s this all about?” He pointed at the body. “Why did you bring this man here?”

The Kid prodded the corpse with the tip of her boot. “Well, now, ‘this man’ is what’s left of a well-known gunman known as Kid Coley. Said he worked for you, so I brung him back. I admit, he’s kinda the worse for wear.”

McCuller was already shaking his head. “No… no. I do recall encountering him a time or two. It’s hard to forget a face like that. But I have no need for the services of a gunman.”

The Kid spoke a couple of words McCuller didn’t recognize. The dogs stood and wandered over to where Coley lay. They sniffed it, then each dog raised a back leg to mark the corpse with their urine.

McCuller’s eyes widened a bit, but he held himself steady. Giving The Kid an oily smile, he said, “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Come on in the house, young lady. We’ll have a drink and a chat.”

Looking from one dog to the other, McCuller said, “Heel,” then mounted the porch to enter the house. The dogs followed him inside, The Kid close behind. As she closed the large oak door, McCuller addressed his dogs again. “Down. Stay.” The large black beasts settled down on either side of the fireplace, and The Kid followed McCuller through a door to his office.

McCuller gestured at a worn leather chair placed before his desk. The Kid seated herself, but without removing her coat or hat.

Bending to open the bottom left hand drawer of the desk, McCuller took out a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses. He poured two drinks, then handed one to The Kid. He leaned against the front of his desk, took a sip and said, “Well, then… what is it you want from me, miss?”

Without missing a beat, The Kid said, “It’s Ranger, not ‘miss’. And I’m here to arrest you.”

McCuller assumed a surprised expression. “Arrest me? For what, pray tell?”

“Land and bank fraud.”

“Oh? Very interesting. Anything else?”

“Probably murder. The fraud for certain, though.”

McCuller crossed his arms and laughed. “Oh, I see. This is that business about the bank and the deeds they hold for the farmers in these parts… sodbusters, I think they’re called. That other ranger talked about it. I keep my money in that bank, and it upset me something fierce to hear they might be caught up in crooked goings-on. I’ve always known Tyson Avidite and Sheriff Clay to be decent, upstanding men, so it was hard for me to believe they were in cahoots on some… some scheme to fleece honest families of their land.”

Topping up his glass, McCuller thoughtfully scratched his chin. “There was this one rumor I’d heard, and I passed it on to that Texas Ranger – Harlan, was that his name? – about some deranged farmer who stole a passel of deeds and made up that whole silly land-snatching story.”

Keeping her voice even, The Kid said, “Would that ranger’s name be Clark Hansen?”

“Yes, indeed,” McCuller smiled, “That was it. Clark Hansen. Well, young lady, he did some investigating and found that farmer’s story to be a load of hogwash. The three of us – Avidite, Clay and me – were innocent of any wrongdoing whatsoever. Ranger Hansen wrote out an affidavit to that effect and gave us each a copy. Mine is right here in this drawer.”

“Where’d he go after givin’ you them reports?”

McCuller shrugged. “Heard he ran off with a saloon girl.”

The Kid said, “All right, then. Why don’t you show me that paper Hansen wrote. I’d like to get this matter cleared up.”

“Of course,” McCuller said. “I have it right here.” Moving behind his desk, he opened the top right drawer and reached inside.

The Kid did her best to look surprised when McCuller took out a pistol, aiming it at her. “I’m afraid you won’t be arresting me today,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe they’d send another dull-witted Texas Ranger out to arrest me.”

“I’d advise you not to pull that trigger.” The Kid said.

McCuller chuckled. “Why on earth not?”

“There’s already one Ranger gone missin’. If I don’t send a telegram by Christmas Day, there’ll be a half dozen more Rangers here the day after. You can’t kill ’em all.”

“The telegraph’s over in the next town. And I can kill them all. Me and my men.”

“So you killed Ranger Clark Hansen, did you?”

Perched on the corner of his desk, McCuller nodded. “Yes, I did. Shot him right next to where you’re sitting.”

The Kid swallowed hard, her jaw clenched as she said, “How’d you get the drop on him?”

“He told me he’d be back to arrest me after he stopped at the bank. He thought enough of me as a man to turn his back on his way out. I put a bullet in it.”

The Kid sat still as a statue as McCuller dipped back into the drawer. Taking something out, he tossed it in her lap. It was a Texas Ranger badge with a little nick on the left side. Hansen’s badge.

“What happened to that crook, Sheriff Clay?” The Kid asked, running her thumb over the badge.

“I had to dispose of him. He came here scared of you, no idea what to do about it. I knew right then that he was no longer of use to me. I told him he could hole up here in the bunkhouse for a few days… and the moment he stepped off the porch, I let the dogs take him down. When I called them off, he begged me to kill him. I had my men plant his body alongside Hansen’s, out by the chicken coop. You’ll soon be out there yourself, along with Coley. Hope you don’t mind sharing the same hole.”

“What about that Dallas gal?” The Kid asked, still not looking up.

“Oh, her. She came up here a few hours after Hansen, begging me not to marry her sister. She grew very tiresome to me after a few minutes. Finally, I told her I’d reconsider if she sucked my cock. She wasn’t very good at it, but got the job done. I told her I’d forget her sister and marry her instead. She was happy when she left… well, almost left. I set the dogs on her, too; let them rip her apart. I wouldn’t shoot a woman.” Drawing the hammer of his pistol back, he continued. “I don’t consider you a woman, just another goddamn lawman… and to be honest, I’m bored with you. Stand up, now. I don’t want blood on that chair. It belonged to my father.”

Instead of getting to her feet, The Kid wondered aloud, “Why is it you want to marry Dixie, anyhow?”

McCuller chuckled. “Know what? I don’t mind saying it aloud to someone this once. You’ll be dead in a couple of minutes anyway.” He paused to pour more whiskey into his glass. “I had to start running my father’s ranch when the old man passed away. I was just twelve, but the men respected me; lent a hand when I needed it. At fourteen, I’d expanded the ranch and was making good money, the new man of the house.

“I was in love with my sister Betsy. We’d always been close, and she loved me too. When I was sixteen, we decided to marry. She was twelve then. Our plan was to tie the knot when she turned thirteen.

“We told our mother, and she pitched a righteous fit. She called it incest; said it was a mortal sin. After she ranted and raved at us, we told her nothing would change our minds. Come what may, we intended to marry.

“Mother went into her bedroom and came out with my father’s gun in one hand, her Bible in the other. She shot her. She shot Betsy. And as my sister lay dying, Mother dropped the gun, knelt by her and said, ‘There, my child. I saved you from the torments of hell.’ And then my sweet Betsy died.”

Pausing to sip from his glass, McCuller said, “I killed my mother. Picked up Father’s gun and beat her to death with it, right next to where Betsy lay. I gave the law a cock and bull tale about a burglar breaking in while I was making the rounds, but I knew that story wouldn’t hold up for long, so I cut my losses and moved on.

“I started over here and was doing just fine – that is, until the foreign scum and white trash started moving in, taking land that was meant for me… but you wanted to know about Dixie, didn’t you?

“I first saw her in the bar, wiping down a table. I was… thunderstruck. She’s the very image of my little sister. My mother was wrong about us, you know. That’s why I had to take her life. The Almighty knew the love I shared with my sister was right and good… so he returned Betsy to me, even if she doesn’t understand it herself just yet. But she will, she will. I bought her from Toots and asked him to make her work hard, so hard that she’ll be happy when I come to take her away and make her my bride.”

Still aiming his gun at The Kid, he took out a silver pocket watch; flicked it open. “In a couple of hours, my men will dispose of that boy Jud… this ranch hand who thinks he can wear a sheriff’s badge. Then they’ll drive those sodbusters off my land.”

“It ain’t your land,” said The Kid. “That’s the law, McCuller. It’s why I’m here to arrest you.”

“To hell with the law!” McCuller thundered. “I can take that land, and I can hold it. That makes it mine.” He gave a derisive snort. “Know what the problem with you Rangers is? You put your trust in man’s law. Words on paper! My law is that of the wild. A wolf needs no lawyer, no writs. He takes what he wants; makes it his.”

McCuller picked up his glass; took a swallow. “Once those dirt-scratchers are gone, this ranch will be my kingdom. Betsy will turn thirteen soon, and I’ll marry her. She’ll bear children for me, and I’ll rule this land.” He snickered. “That’s right, I’m a king. You should address me as Your Highness or Your Majesty.” McCuller aimed his pistol at The Kid. “Tell you what. If you call me, ‘Your Majesty, King McCuller,’ I just might let you go.”

Try as she might, The Kid couldn’t conceal the loathing she felt. “Know what? I’d rather you shot me, Your Assholyness. And by the way, I still mean to arrest you.”

McCuller went from amused to enraged in an instant. “Bitch!” he snapped. “My God, I’m sick to death of you. Get up and die now.”

The Kid slowly rose, still holding Hansen’s badge in her left hand, the whiskey glass in the other. Finally meeting McCuller’s gaze, she said, “Ruth and Clara.”

“What? Who?” McCuller growled.

“That girl you killed, her name was really Ruth,” The Kid said softly. “The girl you bought is named Clara. They were sisters. Someone’s daughters. Ruth and Clara Lamb. Just thought you might want to know.”

“Nothing you say interests me.” McCuller took aim. “I’ll still let you have your last words, though.”

The Kid’s cool blue eyes peered into his. “It’d be best for everyone if you didn’t pull that trigger.”

McCuller gave a derisive laugh, then fired. A loud explosion went off in his hand, and he fell to the floor, howling in agony.

The Kid watched him for a moment, then drank down her tot of whiskey. The detonation of the gun had filled the room with rancid smoke, so she let her empty glass drop to the floor, then opened the office door. Perhaps drawn by their master’s cries, McCuller’s two dogs came in, positioning themselves on either side of The Kid. Slipping Hansen’s badge into her pocket, she petted them both.

The Kid squatted down next to McCuller, who was writhing where he lay, his face a mask of pain. “Told you not to shoot, didn’t I? Y’see, I was in here the other day, makin’ friends with your dogs and diggin’ through your desk drawers. I blocked up the barrel of your pistol. Yep, you sure ought to have listened to me.”

The Kid stood, folded her arms. “Y’know, Clark Hansen wasn’t just another Ranger. He was a good man. A true friend. I’d never have got to be a Texas Ranger but for him vouchin’ for me. And you shot him in the back, you…” She shook her head in disgust. “Well, you won’t be shootin’ anyone with that hand now, you piece of cow shit.”

McCuller groaned. The thumb of his right hand was hanging loosely, almost detached. Through bloody lips he managed to speak. “God damn you… You cunt. I’ll d-destroy you.” Twisting his body to the left, he gazed at his dogs and stammered, “Si – sic…”

The Kid smiled. “Oh, are you tryin’ to talk to your dogs? What’s that word you want to say? Let me see now… sarsaparilla? No that weren’t it. Hmm… succotash? Sesame?”

Suddenly the rage and pain in McCuller’s eyes was colored by fear as The Kid nearly voiced his own attack command. Damn her! he thought. Can she control my dogs?

“How ‘bout I do somethin’ to stop that blood?” Tequila asked. By then, the sleeve of McCuller’s white shirt was drenched in crimson.”Then I’ll take you to town to heal up until you’re able to stand trial.”

McCuller rasped, “Go to hell, bitch.”

The Kid didn’t reply, just moved behind McCuller’s desk. Returning to that top drawer, she found a locket with a picture of Ruth and Clara inside, and put it in her vest. Making her way toward the door, she glanced at the dogs, then McCuller. Suddenly she snapped her fingers, muttering, “That’s it.” She bent to pet the dogs one last time. Then, pointing at McCuller, she quietly said, “Sic ‘em.”

The Kid abruptly turned and walked out, shutting the door behind. She heard the dogs thunder across the floor – then Ben McCuller’s scream.

Drawn by the noise, Sam was hastening into the house as The Kid approached the front door. She said, “Reckon your boss wants you, Sam,” but the man was already stomping down the hallway to McCuller’s office.

Outside, The Kid unhitched Button, rode her close to the house, then waited, listening closely. Soon the sound of two shots came from inside. That’ll be Sam killin’ the dogs. Now there should be one more shot. If McCuller’s the man I think he is, he’ll be beggin’ Sam to kill him… and Sam’s the kind of man who’ll do what he’s told.

She waited. A moment later, another shot. Within seconds, Sam staggered out of the house, a pistol in his grip. He screamed, “You cunt scum bitch! Them dogs tore Mister McCuller almost to death. I had to kill him, God damn it! You ruined everything, you fuckin’ whore!” He raised the gun.

Instantly drawing her Colt peacemaker, The Kid shot the pistol out of the man’s hand. Sam howled, clutching his wounded fingers.

“Way I see it, your boss got what he deserved,” she said. “Was I you, I’d high-tail it out of these parts afore you get what you deserve… and that’s somethin’ a lot worse than a hurt hand.”

With that, she tugged the reins, turning Button away from the white-faced man and into the night. Nudging her mare into a gallop, she prayed to whatever gods there were that she could reach Jud before McCuller’s hired thugs did.

***

Jud Nelson was getting a taste of being sheriff. First, he’d had the town undertaker remove the bodies of Star and Toots from the Silver Slipper. Going through the desk, he managed to locate the paperwork that needed to be done after. It didn’t look too difficult. Now he sat at the desk in the sheriff’s office filling out forms, making a report. I’ll check it all out with the circuit judge when he gets here next week, make sure I did it right. Jud had just signed the report when he heard horses come riding in – at least half a dozen, from the sound of it.

Peering out the window, he saw McCuller’s men dismount, led by Cy Warren. Jud drew a deep breath to brace himself, knowing he could well be dead before the next hour chimed.

Time to see what you’re made of, boyo, he told himself. He checked his pistol, put on his coat and hat and walked out the door.

“Howdy, fellas,” Jud said. No one replied; they just looked at him.

About thirty feet down the street, Cy Warren folded his arms. “I’ll be takin’ over as sheriff, Nelson. Just hand over your badge and gun there and I’ll let you be.”

Jud knew Cy was lying; even that far away, he could read it in the man’s eyes. The Kid made him look a fool, and I was there to see it. Ain’t no way he’d let me live after that.

He answered, “I guess you’ll have to take it off me, Cy. If you’re man enough.”

Warren’s face darkened in anger, more so when a few of the men chuckled. He took a step forward.

Jud pushed the right side of his coat back to reveal his gun. “Don’t come no closer, or I’ll have to draw on you.”

Cy snorted in disdain. “Reckon I’ll have to kill you then,” he said, pushing back his own coat.

Cookie spoke up. “Listen to me, Jud. No one’s got nothin’ against you. Do like Cy says. We’re gonna drive out the ranchers and sodbusters, and there ain’t a thing you can do to stop it.”

“He’s right,” Cy said. “Drop your gun and badge and ride out. That Tequila Kid is dead; she got shot down by Kid Coley. You’re alone now, Best give it up.” Coley must of taken care of her by now, he decided.

Jud felt his stomach tighten. Never been much at pullin’ off a bluff at the poker table… but now I got to come up with the best bullshit I ever told.

“Listen to me now, boys,” Jud said, glancing around at the various men. “You got it all backwards. Earlier today the Tequila Kid sent a telegram from the next town, lettin’ the Texas Rangers know what’s goin’ on. Hell, she was here not half an hour ago. She killed Coley; now she’s headed out to McCullers’ to collar him.”

The men all seemed to be paying close attention. Okay, Jud told himself, they seem to be buyin’ what I’m sellin’. Just gotta keep ‘em with me.

“If you split up and head out to the ranches, you’ll be dead men for certain,” Jud continued.

Cookie frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“The Tequila Kid didn’t come back alone,” Jud said. “She brung a posse. There’s a couple of Texas Rangers at each ranch and farm, and they’re just waitin’ for you men to show up. I’m tellin’ you this because I ain’t got hard feelings against you.”

The men began to talk to each other. Shit, I best take him out now, Cy told himself. He’s tryin’ to buffalo them into backin’ out on me and McCuller. He took a step forward.

Jud said loudly, “Stop right there, Cy… or by God, I’ll draw.”

Cy took another step, and Jud pulled his gun. He hadn’t cleared the holster when Cy fired, but the shot went wide. Just like I remember him, Jud thought. A fast draw, but his aim’s shaky from a distance. Stay calm, get off one good shot.

He was taking aim as Cy fired again. This bullet tore the sleeve of Jud’s thick coat, but didn’t touch his arm.

Cy was about to take a third shot when Jud fired. Cy’s right arm flew out to his side, sending his gun sailing into the street, and his left hand went to his ruined chest. He stood still for a moment, then dropped to his knees. Looking up at Jud, he whispered, “You killed me,” then fell forward onto his face.

Quickly approaching, Jud bent to feel Cy’s neck for a pulse. Nothing. Turning to the men watching, he shook his head. None of them drew their own guns, so Jud said, “You want to take him with you? Or should I make the arrangements?”

Jud watched carefully as the men grouped together. A few of them spoke, the others listened closely. Eventually, they grew silent, and a couple of them nodded.

Cookie approached Jud. “We’re movin’ on. You take care of Cy. This whole thing’s got too messy for us. We ain’t gonna get ourselves kilt doin’ McCuller’s dirty work… and if we go back to him without the job done, we’re dead.” He shook his head. “Truth be told, I’m startin’ to think our boss is a few bricks shy of a load.” He shrugged. “So long, Jud. Reckon you done earned that badge.” With a brief nod, he trudged back to his horse.

The men mounted up and drifted off into the night. Jud stood there, his heartbeat gradually returning to normal as he watched them go. After a couple of minutes, he paid another visit to the undertaker.

***

“I never killed a man before.”

The Kid had told Jud what she’d done, then she listened in silence while Jud filled her in on what had happened in town. When he’d spoken those last words, she stood and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I know it will haunt you for a spell, Jud. All I can say is I recall the first man I killed. I didn’t like doing it either. If it helps ease your mind any, Cy Warren was for sure a killer of innocents, and you done the world a favor killing him. ”

“It’s not much comfort,” Jud said, “If it makes you feel any better, Kid, the Doc told me he’d been giving Star laudanum for a cancer she was sick with. He said it was almost a blessing for her to go quick like she did.”

Jud watched a tear roll down The Kid’s cheek as she shook her head sadly, saying, “It ain’t no comfort to me, either.”

Jud sat in silence for a minute before saying, “That sure was good work you did.”

Kid shook her head, “I was sloppy all the way, Jud. Took too many gambles, and I’m damn lucky it come out okay in the end. Kid Coley almost shot me dead. Them dogs of McCuller’s might just as easily forgot who I was and ripped me to shreds. And what if McCuller had checked his gun after I’d messed with it? Worst of all was, I didn’t watch out for Toots when I should of. Star died ‘cause of that.

“McCuller would have had the last laugh, ‘cept for you, Jud. You took care of Cy Warren and got them men to leave without doing what they was supposed to do. You saved the farmers, and this town.”

“Shucks,” Jud replied, his cheeks slightly flushed, “Can’t say I put much thought into it. I just went with my gut.” He paused, then added, “Sure is funny that McCuller sent a man to kill the girl he wanted to marry without even knowin’ it.”

“That’s what happens to men who spend their lives makin’ other folks suffer. Sooner or later, they end up hurtin’ someone they don’t mean to hurt.” The Kid patted Jud’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to take a life, but you saved a lot more. If you want to take the badge off now, you got the right to. You come through for me and the town both. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’ll keep on being sheriff for a while, I guess. I liked the way the sodbusters treated me when I gave ‘em their mortgages and money. I’m glad I got to help the town, too.”

“Then wear this badge instead.” The Kid said as she tossed the real sheriff’s badge on to the desk. Jud picked it up as she added, “McCuller kept a little collection of badges and whatnot from everyone he killed.”

“I’ll be damned,” Jud said. “Guess that makes it official.”

“Reckon so,” The Kid said. “I also think Clark Hanson would of liked you to keep Thunder. You and that stallion are a good match.”

She watched Jud pin the badge on then said, “I got to get over to the next town to send a wire.” Quickly bending down, she kissed his cheek. Jud felt his face grow hot and his heart fluttered for a moment as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

The Kid put her hat on, made her way to the door and opened it. Just before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder. “Adios, Jud.”

Jud said, “Merry Christmas, Kid,” to the closing door. He looked up at the clock. Just after midnight. Opening the lower drawer of the desk, he took out a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink.

***

 The town was silent and dark as The Kid approached the front door of the general store. Using a set of picks she’d filched from a burglar years ago, she quickly jimmied the lock. She took a few things, then placed the last of her poker winnings on the counter for payment.

Leading Button to the stable, she found Abner studying a half-played checker game, taking an occasional nip from his jug of applejack.

He looked up. “Hiya, Kid! Come for a rematch?”

“Sorry, Ab, not tonight,” she said. “I got important business to see to. Listen – you know how to write?”

“I can read and write some, if I need to. What for?”

She placed some brown paper, a small can of red paint and a brush before Abner, then let him know what she wanted. When he was finished, she nodded her approval. “That looks real good. One more thing – you got a saddle to fit a child? I’ll need the bridle, too.”

While Abner looked over his gear, The Kid visited Thunder in his stall, petting the stallion, as she gently spoke. “Well, from here on, you’ll have Jud looking after you.” The horse nickered softly. “I know, big boy, I know. I miss Clark awful bad too, but you’ll be happy with Jud. Why I reckon he’ll fuss over you just like Clark did.”

“Hey, Kid! Got that saddle for ya!” she heard Abner call. Patting the horse’s nose one last time, she made her way to the front of the livery.

The saddle was exactly what she wanted. Giving the grizzled old man what money she had left, The Kid shook his hand. He opened the stable door for her, and as she led Button out, along with the palomino she’d won from Final Preston, The Kid said, “Much obliged, Abner.”

“So long, Kid,” Abner replied. “Be sure to stop by next time you’re in these parts.”

“That I will. Adios, Abner,” she said with a tip of her hat. Mounting Button, she rode off, the wind blowing and snow beginning to whip around her as she disappeared into the distance. Abner watched until she was gone from sight then, with a sigh, returned to his checkerboard.

***

From up on the ridge trail, The Tequila Kid could see Sarah’s home. The snow had stopped and the sun was rising on a cloudless sky. She could see a light come on through a window, then smoke began to emerge from the chimney.

The Kid put her battered telescope back in the saddle bag. I wonder what little Arabella’s doin’ right now. Havin’ a nice Christmas morning with her family, most likely. I figure she’s sure to have forgot me. Don’t reckon I’ll ever forget her myself. The Kid shook her head sadly as she pictured Arabella, touching the gold ring on its chain under her shirt.

“Well, they’re up now,” the Tequila Kid told Button, stroking the horse’s mane. “Soon enough someone will be headin’ out to the barn.” With an impatient snort, Button beat a front hoof into the snow. “I know, girl. We could of made it to the next town by now if we hadn’t come to the Miller place first.” Button’s response was a shiver and a toss of the head. “It was somethin’ I had to take care of, girl. Don’t fret, now… you’ll warm up, soon’s we start movin’ again. Here – this is for you,” she added, pulling the apple out of her coat pocket.

Button shook her head up and down excitedly as The Kid removed the yellow ribbon tied around it. “It’s from that little Amy girl. She wanted you to have a Christmas present, too.”

The Kid took a small bite from the apple, smiling as its sweet juice ran down her chin. Then she offered it up on the palm of her hand, and Button devoured it in a few gulps.

Wiping her hand on her jeans, The Kid reached into another pocket, feeling for the hard-boiled egg Amy had given her. Carefully cracking the shell on her saddle horn, she peeled and ate it.

Finally, The Kid took out the child’s last gift, the pine cone Amy had decorated for her. Admiring it, she said, “Look, Button… this here is what they call a Christmas decoration. Ain’t it pretty?”

Button sniffed it. Deciding it wasn’t food, she snorted and shook her head, jingling the bridle. The Kid returned the cone to her pocket. Taking up the yellow ribbon, she tied it in a bow on the black forelock of Button’s mane.

“Don’t you look nice, girl. Now let’s get to the next town.” Mounting up, she continued to talk to her horse, as she often did when riding on her own. “I got to wire Captain Richards, let him know about all them dead bodies on McCuller’s land. Reckon he’ll want to come deal with this mess himself.”

Tugging the reins, she guided Button onto the trail. “I better wire Andromeda, too, let her know I won’t see her for a spell yet. She won’t be happy with me missin’ Christmas again… and I can just see her rollin’ her eyes when she gets that telegram collect. Know what she told me last time I saw her? She said, ‘Kid, I love you to bits, but you treat money as if every pair of britches you own has holes in all the pockets’.” She laughed, then fell silent.

Her thoughts strayed to Dixie. It’s Clara now, she reminded herself. I reckon Captain Richards will be the one to let her know what happened to her big sister. I imagine Sarah will have poor Ruth buried at the ranch. Hope she does, anyhow.  She’ll rest easier there.

Got to make sure I give Richards that locket for evidence, and tell him to pass it along to Clara when the case gets closed.

Taking one last glance down at the Miller home, she rode on.

***

I don’t know when I fell asleep. The last thing I remember was laying my head in Ma’s lap, but I was curled up in the big chair wrapped in a blanket when Amy woke us all up yelling, ‘It’s Christmas!’ We all slept in our clothes not knowing if Ma would be having a shoot out with McCuller’s men. But no night riders ever did come by.

We were mighty glad to still be alive and safe. Ma figured either the snowstorm or the Tequila Kid kept us from being attacked, and she said we should thank God for sparing us the next time we said our prayers.

Amy wanted to go see what Santa Claus brought us right away, but Ma gathered us around her first. She said ‘Girls, I don’t know what gifts the day will bring, but I promise you this. We will have the gift of each other’s love tonight.’ 

Then Ma gave each of us a kiss. It was the special kind, where she put her tongue into our mouths. I was first, and when she kissed me, I felt her hands move down my back till she was touching my bottom. Then she did the same for Amy and Clara. I saw Clara reach up to touch Ma’s titties when they kissed. I wished I thought of doing that! But I figured that night there would be plenty of chances to touch my mother anywhere I liked. 

When we were all done kissing, Clara said something specially nice. She gave all of us big smiles and said ‘Ma, Cindy, Amy, you are the best Christmas presents in the whole world, and I can’t wait to unwrap you later tonight.’ 

The way we were looking at each other right then made me think we were about to get started early on the loving part. But Ma just patted Clara’s bottom and told us to go see what Santa brought, then we needed to get breakfast started. 

When me, Clara and Amy went into the parlor we saw stockings hung on the mantle, three of them. Each had an orange and a hand full of walnuts in it. I like busting open the walnut shells with our nut cracker. I decided to save them for later but dug right into my orange. Amy said she’d eat her orange later. Clara wanted to wait and enjoy hers another time.

Amy was happy with her stocking, but she was wondering what else Santa Claus left for us. Just for a moment, I thought cause of the stockings that maybe Santa did come after all. But when I heard Clara  saying thank you to Ma in the kitchen, I knew that was who had got us the oranges and nuts. But I didn’t say nothing. I just hoped Amy wouldn’t be too sad when that was all there was that we got. Me, I didn’t mind so much about there not being a Santa Claus to leave us presents. Long as we had love for one another, it would be a good Christmas.

Ma said while she and Clara got breakfast started, me and Amy should go out to the barn to look for eggs, so we put our coats on and went out into the cold. The snow looked so beautiful in the sun light. I remember thinking it was a gift from God to us for Christmas. I hated for us to spoil it by leaving tracks, but we had to get those eggs. I seen snow a couple times before, but not so deep as this. Amy had a huge smile on her face, cause she’s not seen snow since she was a baby. It did my heart good to see her so happy.

Amy ran ahead of me and opened up the barn door, then she stood stock still, staring at something. All of a sudden she yelled, ‘Cindy, Cindy, come and see!’ I was scared a fox had got at the chickens so I hurried over. 

I looked inside and there was the most beautiful horse in the whole world, standing there with the sun light hitting her. She was a palomino, golden with a white tail and mane. Pinned on her saddle was a big piece of brown paper with red paint on it that said:

MARY X MAS 4 SINDY FROM SANTA KLAWS

It was like something out of a dream. I walked up slowly to the horse to pet her, and she seemed to like me right off. I was so excited! I moved her over near a stall wall and climbed up on her and had Amy get on behind me. I rode her out of the barn and to the house yelling for Ma and Clara to come see. They both rushed out of the house with their mouths hanging open.

Now I saw there were packages hanging off the saddle horn. One was a big envelope saying, 2 SARA, a small box said, 2 AIME, and a brown paper bundle, 4 KLARA.

Clara ripped hers open. It was a pretty store bought dress. She held it up and then ran inside to try it on. Amy opened hers and it was a brand new harmonica, nicer than the one that got shot.

Clara came back out and she sure did look pretty in her new dress. Ma told her she would sure look fine in it when we went to the Vales for the Christmas party. I don’t think she was wearing anything under it, and thinking about that made me warm and trembly inside. She said she would go make the biscuits, and Ma told her to hang the dress up first. 

I was so glad I never said nothing to Amy about there being no Santa Claus, because I figured now there had to be. No one else could of done all that. If it had been a person there would of been footprints all over around the barn. Besides, nobody could have ever known I wanted a horse except for Santa. I guess he can’t spell very good though. 

***

Sarah stood on the porch, listening to Clara whistling and humming in the kitchen as she made the biscuits. She looked at her oldest daughter beaming as she rode the golden palomino around the yard. Behind Cindy sat Sarah’s baby girl Amy playing “Joy To The World,” the sun glinting off the shiny new harmonica.

Noticing the envelope in her hand, Sarah opened it and peered inside. Her eyes widened, and she pulled out a bundle of cash. Quickly counting it, she whispered, “Eleven hundred dollars?”

Also tucked into the envelope was a bill of sale for the horse. Sarah glanced at the list owners. The last name on the list was TEKILA KID, followed by a small drawing of a raven. At the very bottom it read, FROM THE KID 2 SINDY MILLER.

Sarah held it to her breast for a moment. Now she knew who all this had come from. She would never know the money the Tequila Kid gave her had been taken from the dead body of Kid Coley, the blood payment given to him by McCuller to kill her, the girls, all her neighbors and the Tequila Kid.

There was something else in the envelope. Sarah reached in once more, and her eyes filled with tears as she held the gold watch she’d given her husband. The same watch Kid Coley had taken off Eric’s dead body. Opening the watch, she looked at the small picture of her, Cindy and Amy.

Stepping into the yard, Sarah went to the grave marking her husband’s remains. She whispered, “We’re going to make it, Eric. Me and the girls, we’ll be fine. You can rest easy now.”

As she made her way back to the house, Amy came running up. She hugged Sarah around the waist, then took her hand. “Are you happy, Ma?”

Sarah picked the small girl up in her arms and swung her around until Amy squealed in delight. Then she kissed her child and said, “Yes, sweetheart. I’m the happiest woman on earth.” She set the girl back on the ground. “What about you, my love? Are you happy?”

The child gave her mother a dazzling smile. “I sure am. I got what I wanted for Christmas. More, even.” She paused. “I’m gonna go in and help Clara now. Thanks for lettin’ her stay with us, Ma. I like havin’ two sisters!”

“And I love having three daughters. Tell Clara I’ll be there in a minute myself,” Sarah told Amy before she scampered off.

A moment later, Cindy rode up on her new horse. “Isn’t she beautiful, Ma? I’m gonna name her ‘Tequila,’ after that girl Texas Ranger.”

Sarah could think of quite a few reasons why a girl of ten shouldn’t give her horse such a name, but instead of protesting, she said, “That’s a good choice, sweetheart.”

She watched contentedly as Cindy continued to ride around, then looked up toward the trail on the hill, shading her eyes with a hand. Squinting hard past the glare of bright snow and low sun, she carefully scanned the ridge.

Looking intently, she could just make out the small dark figure of a horse and rider against the snow.

Knowing she wouldn’t be seen, Sarah waved anyway. “Merry Christmas, Kid,” she whispered. “Thanks, and may God keep you safe.”

***

Arabella Elizabeth Hodgekiss DuMount had enjoyed a wonderful Christmas day with her new mother Clementine, and her new sisters Mimi and Susie. That evening as they finished singing carols by the piano, Clementine suggested the four of them head up to her room to spend the rest of the night doing what they enjoyed more than just about anything: undressing, slipping into bed and making love.

Arabella said, “I just want to step out for a breath of air, Mama. I’ll be up directly.”

Now she stood on the front porch, gazing up at the stars. “Kid, wherever you are, my Christmas wish is for you to come back to me some day. I love my new family, but I still miss you somethin’ awful. I can’t ever be all the way happy ‘til I see you again.”

She stood quietly for a long moment, then wiped away a few tears and went back inside.

***

After sending a brace of telegrams, the Tequila Kid hung around the office, waiting for replies. Once she’d explained how she’d never learned to read, the telegraph operator kindly offered to read each one to her. She’d had to send all the cables collect, as she’d run out of money yet again.

That night The Kid camped outside of town. As she waited for her coffee to brew in a crimped-up can on the campfire, she bedded Button down – talking to her all the while, as she often liked to do. It helped with the loneliness she sometimes felt on the trail.

After hobbling Button’s forelegs for the night, The Kid draped a blanket over the horse. “Sure was good of Abner to give me this old horse blanket for you, girl. You’ll be a little warmer tonight.”

She seated herself by the fire. “Well, girl, Captain Richards got the wire I sent. He cabled me back to let me know he’s on his way. He’ll be meetin’ up with me, him and a few Rangers. See, I got to show him where McCuller had all them bodies buried. Hope he don’t need me to help him make out the reports. I sure do hate doin’ that.”

She paused to pour her coffee, then continued. “And hell’s bells, is Andromeda ever hoppin’-ass mad at me! First, ‘cause I couldn’t spend Christmas with her… and ‘cause I cabled her collect yet again. Reckon I’ll have to treat her extra nice when I make it back to Knuckle Ridge in a couple weeks.” She chuckled. “Aw, once I’ve had me a bath and got her into bed, she’ll forgive me just about anything,” The Kid smiled, picturing the face of her steady lover. “Wonder how she’s been doin’ with her bone diggin’ since I saw her last. Maybe she’ll have one of them dino-saurs put together to show us when we get back.”

Taking the last swallow of coffee, she put her can away, then carefully spread out her bedroll next to the dying campfire. Before settling in for the night, The Kid wrapped both arms around Button’s strong neck and pressed her face against the horse’s side, listening to the mare’s beating heart. “Goodnight, girl. Andromeda told me not to forget to say how much she loves you. But I love you even more.”

Tugging her boots off, she climbed into her bedroll and tried to relax. In spite of herself, she gazed up at the sky, suddenly overcome by a surge of melancholy. The stars grew blurry as her eyes filled with tears,  and she fumbled for the gold wedding ring that she wore on a chain over her heart. The ring that Arabella had given her, the one that had belonged to the child’s late mother.

The Kid heaved a sigh. Damn it, Arabella… seems like every day, every night I’m left thinkin’ of you. I’m glad you’re just a little girl, and probably forgot all about me by now. I wish I could do that, let the memory of you go and move on. But I can’t. The love I feel for you still burns in my heart.

The Kid turned onto her side, then winced in discomfort. Reaching into her coat pocket, she found the pine cone Amy had decorated for her. Inside her bedroll, she cradled it to her chest, lost in thought.

Somethin’s been worryin’ my mind ever since little Amy sat on my lap and told me about Santa Claus. And what Jud said about Santa made it nag at me even more. Somethin’ I recall from a long time ago. Or was it a thing that happened to Amy, and I got it mixed up in my head?

She kept puzzling over it, like a child keeps picking at a scab on their knee.

At last a faint memory came to her out of nowhere, like the white wisp of smoke from the embers of the camp fire.

She was sitting on a sofa. Moonlight spilled through a window to illuminate a small scrubby pine tree and five stockings hung in a line above a hearth. The room was cold, but there was no fire lit. On the mantle of the hearth, a small glass of milk was placed next to a plate of cookies.

She was startled by a woman’s voice. “Why, Mary Ann! What are you doing out of bed at this hour?” The woman sat down, drawing her child into a warm embrace.

“I want to see Santa Claus, Mama.”

“Dear, you know Santa won’t come till everyone’s asleep. Pa and your brother and sister are all sleeping. You don’t want to be the one who keeps him from coming, do you?”

“No, Mama.”

“Come on, then. Let’s put you to bed.” The nice-smelling woman bent to pick her up, cradling her in the crook of an arm. She wrapped both arms around the woman’s neck, allowing herself to be carried to bed.

The woman gently laid her down next to her older sister, who was already fast asleep, then sat down beside her, humming a lullaby. Gently brushing a shock of rusty red hair from the little girl’s forehead, the woman lightly kissed her cheek, whispering, “I love you, Mary Ann.”

The Kid could almost recall the tune of the lullaby, but the whole of it evaded her. As she tried to call the melody to mind, she fell into a sound, peaceful slumber.

The End