Red Rock II: Prologue:- The Calm Before the Storm (A Story by Rufusluciusivan and Stormtrooper1990)
Posted: Tue Jul 15, 2025 6:19 pm
In the first of a brand new collaboration between myself and Rufus, which has been 6 months in the making, we return to the Wild West with this sequel to Vengeance in Red Rock. It has been 3 months since the defeat of the outlaw 'Four Fingers' McClaine in Red Rock by Sheriff Nancy Cooper, her best friend the Navajo tracker Sand and the love of her life, Clinton O'Hara. Peace as seenly returned to sleepy Arizona town but little do Nancy and her friends know, that the peace will be shattered when a revelation on who financied McClaine sends the team to New Orleans. And for Sheriff Nancy Cooper, an unexpected but surprise development....
(N.B the following story contains both characters from Red Rock I and Rufus' Original Character Victoria Van der Laar and our creation Maximilian DeBeers. Part 1 will follow shortly, we hope you enjoy it)
The Township of Red Rock, AZ, 18:00pm Thursday November 5th 1884
In the city of Red Rock, Arizona, the afternoon sun was giving way to a pleasant evening. Slowly, people were getting home after a day of honest work.
It was impressive how much three months could change a place. But it was also a testimony of how McClaine’s iron grip had been strangling the city.
The citizens could now walk freely the streets again, without fear of being manhandled by drunk outlaws – or even worst for the women. Shopkeepers didn’t have to pay McClain’s outrageously high ‘protection fees’ anymore, nor were townsfolk forced to slave at the gold mine for lower than minimal wages.
At the Silver Streak Casino, Abigail was serving drinks, dressed in her waitress uniform. Wendy was working as a barkeep – Grace, the original barmaid, had also recovered her old job but was happy to have some help.
The place was still quiet – only a few patrons were already there – but they anticipated it would be crowded in an hour.
A group of artisans were sharing drinks after a day of work.
“Took us three months, but I’m so happy to see the city is thriving again! Was skeptical about having a female sheriff and an Indian deputy, but can’t argue with the results! They did a good job getting things under control and helping us rebuild!” the town’s doctor commented.
Abigail chimed in: "That's easy for you to say. The Sheriff tricked me and knocked me out. She stole my clothes, drugged me, and then she left me naked in a closet with Constance."
Wendy added: "And she punched me out! I had a bruise on my face for a week! And her friend stuffed me a barrel! I was stiff for days!”
"Well they made sure you weren’t seriously harmed. Take what you can get. Besides, would you be happier if McClaine were still in charge?"
"You have a point." Abigail said. "They spared us and Bertha and Carmen in the vault, I wouldn't want to be any of the girls in McClaine's gang. I just wish she told me what her plan was an ask me for my clothes. I probably would have given them to her to help take down McClaine. Then she wouldn't have had to put me to sleep."
"But then McClaine would have figured out you helped them and he surely would have killed you for it. Knocking you out was necessary. At a minimum if you had cooperated the sheriff would still have had to drug you for your own good."
Wendy still commented to herself. “I thought that the sheriff and deputy Sand were just another pair of Jane's. They didn't have to punch me, strip me naked and stuff me in a barrel."
The blacksmith chimed in. "Come on Wendy. We all know how friendly you were to McClaine. You would have tattletaled off to him at the first opportunity. They were well within their rights to knock you out and tie you up. At least you've got a respectable job now, so why are you complaining?"
Wendy glared at him. “Easy for you to say that! You never risked being raped by his guys! You think I liked being chummy with him or his pigs? At least that way I could earn money, and maybe turn down a client or two!”
“Wow! Easy there, I meant no disrespect…”
“You better not! Or I’ll spit in your drink! And I’m not complaining. Just saying things are… awkward every time she comes for a drink.”
The doctor nodded. “I understand. Things are awkward too whenever she comes to be patched up. Carmen and Bertha prefer to let me do the work.”
“You better not fire them! Or else you’ll have to find an other place to drink!” Grace warned him from the alcohol storage room, where she was supervising a delivery with Emma from the general store.
“Of course I won’t! With all the newcomers settling here, I need my nurses!”
Justice had been brought for McClaine’s victims, even if some of them were uncomfortable about the unwilling part they had taken in the events…
The O'Hara Ranch, Outskirts of Red Rock, 23:00pm
Coming in to find Clinton sitting at the table, cleaning their revolvers Nancy suddenly swooned losing balance.
"Whoa!" Clinton looked up in surprise eyes wide. "Honey are you alright?" He rose to steady her. "Your looking a little pale, my love."
Nancy blinked feeling reassured by his touch, as he led her over to the bed. "I-I have been feeling that a lot lately and just this morning I brought up Sand's rattlesnake jerky, despite the fact I’m craving it more and more."
Clinton parted a loose strand of her hair looking with a mixture of affection and concern. "Hey it's not all that bad. Well actually it is. Better than yours"
Nancy laughed playfully pushing him. "You ass, that's the last time I'am cooking you anything."
The pair laughed before Nancy sighed. "Seriously though, Clint. I-I missed my bleed..."
Clinton's eyes widened. "Really? Nance have you been to see Doc Burrows? You know what this means right?"
Nancy nodded tears of joy in her eyes. "Yeah, that you’re going to be a father...again."
Clinton began to feel tears welling up as he touched his lover's belly, unable to contain their emotions or their love the two passionately kissed...
McClaine was gone, Red Rock was prospering again, they were confident everything was going to be alright.
The New Orleans Headquarters of the DeBeers Company, Rue de la Bourbon, New Orleans, LA, the Same Moment
In the office desk of his company’s New Orleans headquarters, Maximilian DeBeers was drinking a glass of his finest bourbon.
Maximilian DeBeers wasn’t a merciful man – and he’d be the first to claim it. He considered mercy a weakness in the cutthroat world of the captains of industry. Maximilian DeBeers also wasn’t a forgiving man – and once again he’d be the first to claim it. Any slight would cause him to retaliate tenfold – a way to keep all his rivals in line.
When he inherited the DeBeers Company five years ago, everybody thought he’d run the family business to the ground. A man barely in his mid-twenties? Preposterous!
Well, he certainly showed old these old farts…
When he was put in charge of the family company, Maximilian saw an opportunity. His father, Vincent DeBeers, had built his business empire with fair deals and honest trade from the Texan coast to Florida. As a consequence, he had amassed a comfortable fortune, built a company with an impeccable reputation, and was employing many loyal people. However, his business and fortune were a lot smaller than what they could have been had he had laxer morals. Maximilian wouldn’t make the same mistake. Legal operations were perfect to maintain a good reputation, but illegal ones netted bigger profits.
Maximilian had plans, big plans, to expand his influence westwards – New Mexico, Arizona, and one day California.
His secret partnership with infamous outlaw McClaine had been his second most profitable endeavor – right behind buying Victoria’s innocence and netting a share of the Van der Laar estate in the process. Under McClaine’s rule, Red Rock had been a reliable source of income, and a perfect place to launder his dirty money.
However, three months ago, a bunch of rats had ruined his perfect operation. One of them was even a disgusting redskin! And an other was a female sheriff! DeBeers wasn’t the kind of man to leave such a slight unpunished. And he also wasn’t stupid enough to give this nosy self-proclaimed sheriff and her crew the opportunity to follow McClain’s trail to him.
His scheme would combine business and vengeance – his favorite.
“Did you send the telegram to Victoria?” he asked his aide.
“Yes sir.”
“Good.” He looked at the posters on his desk. “Miss Cooper, you’re going to regret the day you crossed Maximilian DeBeers...”
Westlake, LA, Thursday 5th November 1884, 23:05pm
On the top floor of the brothel in the town of Westlake, Louisiana, Jill checked herself in the mirror. She saw the reflection of a gorgeous blue-eyed brunette with doe-like eyes, a soft white skin, and a curvaceous body, wearing a brightly colored red ruffled dress of which the skirt was deemed scandalously short by proper ladies – knee-length. Under the bell-shaped skirt could be seen a colorfully hued petticoat that barely reached her kid boots adorned with tassels. Her arms and shoulders were bare, the bodice cut low over her bosom, and her dress was decorated with fringe.
Jill adjusted her haircut – shoulder-long ringlets – and frowned when she sensed someone behind her.
She didn’t feel in danger – only women were allowed in this part of the building. Still, whoever this girl was, she was being rude creeping behind her like that. Jill turned to admonish her.
“Hey, if you’re thinking of borrowing my make-up, think again, ‘cause-”
A fist crashed into her face, knocking her out instantly. “Urk!” Jill fell from her chair and landed face up spread eagle onto the floor.
“I’ll be borrowing more than your make-up, sweetie.”
Victoria nudged the girl’s face with the tip of her boot. The floozy didn’t react. She was well and truly unconscious, her cheek was already bruising.
“Those chases are such a pain in the ass when civilians get involved…”
Sheriffs and marshals maybe despised bounty hunters, but were happy to let them do the dirty work. However, they usually got all fussy when innocents were killed in the crossfire. Thankfully, most agreed to look the other way if she only manhandled them a bit – as long as the outlaw was worth it – but it made things needlessly convoluted.
Victoria grabbed the pocket watch concealed in her shirt’s breast pocket, and nodded to herself.
“Right on schedule. Change of shift of the guards is in twenty minutes.”
Victoria blocked the door of the room and removed Jill’s dress and other clothes – the petticoat was also part of the outfit, so she didn’t hesitate to strip the girl naked. She noted the girls full buoyant young breasts with puffy dark pink areolas and full womanhood trimmed into a faint dark brown strip. “You skank must be pretty proud of your body, uh?”
She remembered how in her younger years all the neighboring boys would flock to her. She remembered how flattered she had felt. Then the years of her marriage had beat the appreciation out of her.
Jill began to stir and moan. A kick to the stomach cut her breath, making sure she wouldn’t scream, then Victoria grabbed her by the throat and punched her on the temple two more times to make sure she’d say unconscious a bit longer. She grabbed a rope to bind the girl’s wrists and ankles, shoved a thick white rag into her mouth as a cleave-gag, and threw the naked woman inside the cupboard. She used a chair to block the door.
Victoria removed her own clothes, and slipped into Jill’s petticoat and dress. She hid her revolver and derringer.
The bounty hunter then adjusted her dress in front of Jill’s mirror. “Show’s about to begin.”
Finding the right room was easy. She knew the layout of the place Having access to DeBeers’s network of informants was handy, even for her freelance jobs.
She went to a specific door, and opened it. “Entertainment is here.” Victoria announced with the emphasis of a stage actress.
Sitting on the bed, there was Bartholomew Beckett. ‘Bloody Bart’ as he called himself. A generic name for a generic outlaw. Still, the reward was neat. The owner of the brothel owed him money and a few favors, so he was offering him a safe place. Any enforcer of the law getting close to the building would be spotted immediately – and Bart would have the time to hightail. Unfortunately for Bart, people rarely paid heed to a woman entering a brothel...
“Hey! Where’s Jill?”
“She’s sick today. Trust me, I’ll show you the benefits of mature women…”
She moved her body suggestively.
He eyed her from the face to the legs with lust-filled eyes, and for one second she remembered of an other man. Vaclav used to look at her the same way, before fetching the riding crop to ‘correct his sinful wife’. She found herself smiling in anticipation.
“I’m sure you will…” Bart finally concluded.
Victoria closed the door. “Why don’t we start with the belt, stallion? Unless you feel the need to keep the gun.”
Bart laughed. “One’s never too cautious, honey.”
Victoria’s smile didn’t waver. “You’re damn right.”
“Uh?” Something clicked in his mind. Reflexively, his hand went for his gun.
Victoria drew her hidden revolver and shot him point blank in-between the eyes before he could fully draw his revolver. She was still smiling.
“Dead or alive, the poster said… I prefer them dead. Makes things easier for me.”
**************
The guy was worth the same dead anyway.
The sheriff didn’t like how an innocent girl was manhandled in the process, but he didn’t argue with result – nor could he argue with the official paper making Victoria an “esteemed representative of the DeBeers Company”. He agreed to sweep everything under the rug, and have ‘Bloody Bart’ take the fall for the girl’s bruises. ‘Bloody Bart’ couldn’t argue with their version anyway.
Victoria tapped the cash safely stored in a pocket of her coat. “What a wonderful world we live in…” She was waiting at a counter of the telegram station.
An employee interrupted her thoughts. “Oi! Victoria! Your boss has sent you a message.”
“Employer.”
“Pardon?”
“Employer, not boss. But because I like you, I’ll let it slide this one time.” Victoria smiled – the sweet dangerous smile she had learned to use back when she worked as a ranch hand and she needed to make sure the men stayed in line. “Get it wrong again, and I knock out a few teeth off your mouth.”
“G- Got it.”
Victoria grabbed the sheet of paper and read it. “Sheriff turned outlaw, he says? I’m sure there’s an interesting story behind that one… Wait! How many zeroes did he put? Now I know there’s an interesting story!” She snapped a finger in front of the employee she had just scared. “Hey, look alive! I need to send a telegram to the Van der Laar Estate before I leave! Gotta check on my sister...”
Near her, a finely-dressed man was dictating his own telegram. However, he shook his head in disgust at her display. “A crude lowly bounty hunter… Can’t believe the Van der Laar would sink so low…”
“No shit. That’s kinda the point. Thanks for noticing.”
The Cavill Estate, Brooklyn, New York, NY, Thursday 5th November 1884 18:00pm
Sylvié Delacroix sighed as she sat by the window darning another of Miss Eleanor's dresses, the periwinkle one that she had worn that night they were robbed in the desert.
She gazed at the dress the memory of that night come rushing back like a flood. How long had it been? Three months ago already? Yet, contrary to her mistress who had chosen to never mention the incident again, Sylvié couldn’t take it out of her mind.
Particularly, that magnetic exotic native girl with the dusky voice and piercing mismatched eyes who had touched her body. What was it the redheaded outlaw called her? Sand? Yes, such an intriguing name.
For months, she had dreamed of nothing else but those big pretty eyes, the soft gentle dusky voice that spoke of a sensitive soul behind that mask.
Then the touching.
At first, Sylvié had been terrified, scared that the woman may ravish her like she was lead to believe all natives do. But then the more Sand touched her, the more Sylvié had realized the girl had gentle if a little calloused hands that spoke of a harsh if lonely life. Strangely, there was no lust in her gesture. Only curiosity and admiration. In a way, she knew the woman meant her no harm, she was just starting to enjoy the attention, loving the intimacy and kindness the native had shown her.
Nobody had touched her the way this mysterious native woman had…
Sylvié had always known she was different, that she preferred the company of women but she had never acted on those feelings. Not until she had met that rugged, mysterious native who she had fallen in love with.
Later, she had heard some faint rumors. That those outlaws had fought against a fearsome gang, and liberated a town.
From that moment on, Sylvié had wanted to find out more about the native girl. Who was she? Where did she call home? What did she look like under the mask? And what did her skin feel like?
I wonder if I will ever see her again? I want to so badly! I want to be rid of Miss Eleanor forever and find my dusky native! To finally be free!
"Sylvié!? Sylvié?! Why have you got your head in the clouds again?!"
The shrill voice of her mistress brought her back to reality with an unwelcome bump.
"I am sorry Miss Eleanor. I must have dozed off."
The blonde precocious overgrown brat stood her hands on her hips. "Dozed off?! More like you're being a lazy good for nothing shirker! I wanted that dress darned an hour ago and here I find you daydreaming! Darn that dress now before we set off for New Orleans in the morning or I will get daddy to toss you back onto the streets and into the gutter where he found you!"
With that she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. "Stupid stuck up brat, someone's still got the desert up their craw." She said taking up the needle picturing the moment she saw Eleanor naked and getting knocked out right before her, the memory bringing a smile to her face.
The O'Hara Ranch, 05:56am, Friday November 6th 1884
When she entered Clinton’s room, Nancy glanced at all the sheets of paper spread on the table. And the wall. And the floor.
“Every time I come here, there seems to be more paper. It’s like they have kids every time I turn around...”
Clinton laughed, and couldn’t help but briefly caress Nancy’s belly.
“Made any progress?”
Clinton’s face turned serious again. “Yes. It took me time, and many telegrams, but you won’t like the result.”
Dispensing justice to McClaine and his gang, Nancy had discovered, was merely the first step. A notorious outlaw such as McClaine couldn’t possibly have held such an obvious grip on an entire town without some outside help. Some powerful man hiding in the shadows, with large pockets and lots of influence.
“Tell me.”
“Does the name Maximilian DeBeers ring a bell?”
“I heard of the DeBeers Company.” A trade company, with its hands in railroad and industry as well. Not the richest, but certainly one of the most robust. She knew it had branches in all the south-eastern states and territories of the country, from Texas to Florida. The heart of its power was located in Louisiana. Lately, it had extended its grip westwards in the direction of Red Rock. “You’re telling me he was the one behind McClaine?”
“I almost didn’t find the pattern, he covered his tracks well, but yes.”
“He sounds like bad news.”
“It’s not the worst. I heard rumors from the latest travelers. DeBeers is making a move. I believe he’s after us. We both know the influence of such a man has no borders. Whatever he’s doing in Louisiana, it’s only a matter of time before it reaches us here… I need to go there, and investigate.”
“Are you offering me a trip to New Orleans?”
Clinton didn’t smile at her joke.
Nancy frowned. “You better not think of leaving me behind.” she warned him.
“I didn’t say-”
“You were thinking it.”
“… Yes. Sorry. It’s just… I couldn’t stand losing you or the baby… Not a second time…”
Nancy’s heart melted a little. She couldn’t stay angry at him. “And I couldn’t stand losing you or Sand… That’s why I’m coming. Besides, where am I the safest? With you and my friend by my side, or here on my own, putting the people of Red Rock in danger? You can’t ask me to just stay out of the action.”
“You’re right. I didn’t fall for you because of your caution…”
“Sand is hunting today. Said she wanted to bring me more rattlesnakes. I’ll fetch her. I want to deal with DeBeers before my belly begins to bloat.”
Outskirts of Red Rock, 06:00am
Rushing Sand sat perched on a small rocky mesa, the town of Red Rock shimmering in the distance watching the reds and yellows dancing across the sky. Musing that ever since she was a little girl she had never seen anything quite beautiful. That was until she had seen her first white woman naked bathing in a stream, the sun glistening from her wet body dripping with water. Sand was only 16 when she first realized that she was different from the other girls in her tribe, where they talked about boys she would look at other women and be enchanted by them. This along with her bearing the stigma of being a halfbreed child with funny eyes had made Sand feel quite alone, like an outcast among her people.
That was until she had came to Red Rock, at first to restore her mother, Soaring Eagle's, honour and prove herself an adult in the eyes of her chief Stalking Coyote, disproving her doubters and removing the shame of being a cursed child from her name. But then her whole life changed, she had saved the life of Nancy Cooper a woman who would later become a dear friend and met her future lover, Clinton O'Hara and together they had slain the demon McClaine, Sand's own father. A man who had wronged all of them and who now roamed the shadowlands for his crimes.
It was during this time she had met the young maid who had accompanied Eleanor Cavill and stolen her clothes. The pretty maid had captivated the young Navajo, so much so that she touched the girl's naked body without her consent and in so doing shamed herself and dishonored the one woman she had found more beautiful than this sunrise. The deed haunted Sand's dreams but so to had this girl, who she dreamed of for the last three months. The maid would come unbidden into her dreams naked and Sand could still picture making sexual relations with her, but she knew she couldn't allow herself such thoughts until she had sought out the girl and begged for her forgiveness. So both their honors could be restored. Feeling her stomach grumble, Sand shook the thoughts from her mind, focusing on the present and that finding some rattlesnake to break her morning fast. Grabbing her horn bow, Sand looped it over her shoulder before climbing down the mesa with the grace of the Coyote. Reaching the foot of the column of rock, Sand nocked an arrow and began her hunt in earnest tiptoeing across the desert.
It didn't take Sand long to find her first rattlesnake, the telltale hissing and rattling of the creatures tail alerting the navajo scout to its presence, it's forked tongue poking in and out catching the warm desert air. The serpent hissed rattling as it coiled ready to sink its teeth into Sand's arm. Bringing up her bow, the young Navajo said a small oath to the spirits of her departed grandparents, summoning their wisdom from ages past to guide her aim true as she gently breathed in to steady her shot then released the tension on her bowstring. To Sand's delight the arrow pierced the serpents neck sending the animal toppling to the desert dead. It's rattle shook with one final spasm before going limp.
Kneeling by the dead serpent, Sand took out her arrow from it's long neck with a sickening squelching sound wiping it with a length of cloth before kneeling by the dead rattlesnake bowing her head. "Creature of lies and deceit, bound by your nature. I have taken your life to feed my friends. I make this oath to mother earth, to use all of your remains and to waste nothing so the great cycle continues." Waiting for a couple of moments, Rushing Sand scooped up the dead serpent into her satchel. She reasoned that she may need another two. Nancy had begun to crave Sand's rattlesnake roast a little more in the last month and the young navajo knew just what that implied. She had seen the same amongst her people, Nancy was with child and Sand realised that dearest friend needed her now more than ever. Wasting no time, Sand bounded across the desert with the speed of the noble coyote.
Over the course of fifteen minutes, Sand had collected another rattlesnake shooting the creature through its eye and just needed one more. Coming to a dried creek, the abandoned Red Rock Gold Mine standing like a silent witness shimmering on the horizon, Sand stalked silently forward. Then she heard it, the telltale hissing and rattling of the serpents tail just behind her. Quickly she spun around nocking her arrow seeing the creature camouflaged against the desert. While a settler would have been caught unawares by the serpents deception, Sand was a navajo scout and was above such trickery. Smiling she loosed the arrow just as the sun rose coming over the bluff shining into her eyes. Bringing up her arm to shield her eyes, Sand cast her mind back...
(Three months earlier)
With her head held high, Rushing Sand entered the tipee of her clans leader Stalking Coyote, the light of the campfire casting his lined face a wizened shadow. Next to him sat the elderly medicine man, Wandering Cloud his painted face that was tanned as old Bison skin. "Have you returned from your quest, aweè'? Does the demon McClaine walk the shadowlands for the crime he committed against our people..." He then glanced to Sands mother, Soaring Eagle, a pretty middle aged woman standing by the tents entrance. "...and your mother?"
Taking the bloodied scalp of her father from her belt, Sand knelt in front of the fire presenting it to the old leader. " Naat'aanii, I offer you a token of the demon McClaine who was slain by my hand. The Blood Oath is satisfied." Taking the bloodied scrap of human flesh from her hands, Coyote nodded tossing the trophy into the flames were it roasted in the fire.
"Then you are no longer a child, Rushing Sand. I, Stalking Coyote recognize you as an adult. Cloud..." He turned to the medicine man, who retrieved the burnt ashes of McClaine's scalp from the fire, mixing them with a mortar and pestle with a red dye. Scooping some of the mixture with his fingers he daubed Sand's cheek and forehead with it. "You Rushing Sand are now a hunter of the Blue Water people and cursed no longer, rise and be welcome."
Smiling to cheers and receiving hugs from her clanmates, Sand saw her mother flash her a look of pride.
Strangely, the young Navajo felt bittersweet. ‘I wish Nancy was here’ she thought. ‘She deserves the praise as much as I do. I couldn't have done it without her. Or Clinton for that matter.’ Feeling her hand being grasped, Sand thought for a second it was Nancy or that brunette maid she had seen in her dreams. But smiled when it was her mother, who lead her outside towards their tipee on the edge of camp.
"Words cannot express how much I'm proud of you my beautiful child. The people have finally recognized you as the hunter you are and we have closed this troubling chapter in our lives. I love you, my daughter. " Soaring Eagle, kissed Sand on her forehead before caressing her cheek.
The young Navajo looked away for a moment, at a spot over her mothers shoulder.
"What's wrong, Sand. You look troubled, are you not proud of your accomplishments?"
Sand sighed hugging her mother. "Yes of course, but I didn't do it alone. I had help from two honorable white people, I couldn't have done it without them, mother."
Eagle's face suddenly turned grave, she turned angrily from her daughter. "What have I told you about the white man, daughter!? They are as devious as the rattlesnake and can turn on you like a rabid dog just as quickly!" She snarled clutching her belly.
Sand shook her head. "No, mother! They are my friends, they would never betray me. They are not father!"
Eagle advanced on her child, tears wet with anger and pain. "Don't you ever speak of him again, Sand. He is dead to us." She averted her eyes from her daughters just for a moment and Sand knew the reason why. Before she calmed down, embracing her child once more. "Forgive me my dear, I still find myself returning to that awful night. This isn't about me, this is your day." Looking down at her daughters body, still wearing the outfit she had stripped off a dead woman she gasped. "Look at you! You're all skin and bone, let me cook your favourite Bison stew. That should fatten you up!" Forcing a smile, Sand followed her mother inside.
Placing her weapons to one side, Sand sat crossed legged on the ground watching her mother prepare dinner. "So now you’re back permanently and not a child anymore, Sand..." Soaring Eagle busied herself dicing up pieces of Bison and dropping them into the cooking pot, the meat sizzling along with the chopped vegetables. "...I thought we might discuss your future. Rushing River has asked after you. He's always been interested in you since you were knee high to a coyote pup."
Sand sighed, her mother meant well and always tried to stare her towards the young handsome scout, but she could never bring herself to tell mother how she truly felt. In truth she feared her reaction. But Nancy had taught her to have courage, to have strength in your convictions and never be afraid to make the hard choices. Sand took a deep breath.
"Mother. I cannot accept River's proposal, in fact I don't want the hand of any man. It's not their companionship i desire the most..."
Soaring Eagle's brow furrowed in confusion as she doled out the creamy broth into Sand's bowl. "Don't be silly, daughter. Who else are you going to marry? I would like to have strong grandchildren to pass on my secrets too."
Sand could feel her heart pounding in her ears, she knew the truth would hurt her but she couldn't live in silence any longer either. "Mother, I-I..." she took a deep shuddering breath "...prefer the company of other women. I always have."
Soaring Eagle looked perplexed, her face so much like Sand's utterly confused. "That's impossible. A man and woman can only be in union with each other...its...its not right. You are mistaken."
Sand shook her head. "No, mother. It's how I feel. I...I cannot explain it." She paused drinking her stew, the warm broth not soothing her soul.
Suddenly, her mother rose up. "You are cursed! I didn't want to believe it but you have your father’s dark soul. His base lusts."
Sand threw down her stew, tears streaming down her face she got up after her mother. "Mother please, wait! You...you don't mean that!"
She laid a hand on the woman's shoulder, but Eagle recoiled from her touch. "You are no daughter of mine!" She snarled rushing through the tent flap.
As Sand began to cry she momentarily caught sight of the brunette maid from her dreams smiling at her, before she faded away revealing the evening sun. Dazzled by the sun's light, Sand raised her hand to shield her tear stained eyes...
(Present Day)
Sand blinked, shaking her head at the memory that came unbidden. She looked at the rattlesnake she had just shot only to find a pretty young woman standing there in her maid outfit. Flashing her a beautiful smile.
"Seek me out in the east, I will be waiting." She said in her melodious accent, pointing over Sand's shoulder. "But don't fear the rattlesnake but the rabid dog..."
"No, wait!" Sand pleaded with the vision as it faded but before she could make sense of the maid’s words, she heard deep throated growls from behind her.
Spinning around, the young Navajo saw a wild dog eyes red with desperation and starvation. The beast snarled, froth and spittle foaming from its mouth. It was a thin emaciated beast, with stretched brown skin tanned like old leather. Carefully nocking an arrow, Sand braced itself for the beasts charge.
Suddenly the dog pounced, too fast for the Navajo scout to aim it bowled her over knocking her bow from her grasp and sending the shot wide. The animal pinned Sand to the earth, it's jaws snapping for her throat. Bringing her left arm up to shield her face, Sand desperately reached for the knife on her belt but couldn't reach it. No! It can't end like this! Spirits help me! Where is Nancy? She prayed as the dogs feral strength threatened to overwhelm her. Then as if to answer her prayers, a shot rang out and the dog let out a short whine of pain, before it slumped dead on top of her. Feeling the creatures warm blood spray on her face, Sand turned breathing a sigh of relief...
There silhouetted against the sun and Sidewinder, her revolver still smoking was Sheriff Nancy Cooper a look of protective fury on her face that soon turned to concern. "Oh my God! Sand are you alright?!" She holstered her revolver running to her friends side.
The young navajo nodded pushing the wild dogs cooling corpse off of her. "Thank you, Nancy. If you hadn't been here..."
Nancy breathed hauling her best friend to her feet. "Don't mention it. You saved my ass more times over the last three months than Clint has. And you know how jealous he gets." She joked.
Sand made a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging.
Seeing her distress, Nancy gently rubbed her shoulders. "Sand, is there something on your mind?"
The Navajo nodded. "Yeah. Can we talk?"
Nancy patted her shoulders. She sat on a rock, and offered her friend to take a drink from her flask. "Sounds like something that needs to be shared over a drink… I also have something to tell you. But please start...”
Sand sat next to her, and accepted the drink with a grateful nod. "...I don't know if I could even call myself Navajo anymore. What if my mother is right? What if I'm just like McClaine?"
Nancy put a consoling arm around her shoulder. "Rushing Sand, my most dearest friend. You are nothing like that bastard. You are honorable, brave and fearless everything Four Fingers wasn't. And what you did, telling your mom about your true self took guts. You don't need to be in a tribe to be Navajo. You can still love other women and be proud of your heritage."
Sand flashed her a smile as they came together in a one armed hug, touching foreheads.
"So about this vision of yours....? You can’t take this cute French maid out of your mind it seems..." Nancy teased her.
Sand went bright red then did something she had never done before. She giggled. "She is the most beautiful woman on the earth, even more so than the sunrise. She told me to meet her to the east. I know it must seem silly to you, to be infatuated with a vision of a girl."
Nancy shook her head, taking up her flask and giving it a swirl. "No of course it doesn't..." she paused to take a swig before continuing. And your best friend I would say follow your heart, go east, find this girl and most importantly be yourself."
Sand smiled then impulsively kissed her friends forehead, before turning a darker shade of red. "Thank you, Nancy. Bless the spirits for you."
Nancy flashed her a wink. Both women laughed as they finished off their drink.
"Right. We better get this cleared away and head back to town. Wouldn't want Clinton to worry. We have to leave with the first train. A new mission."
“Good news. I need some action.” Sand nodded. She relished the chance to take her mind off her concerns.
With Nancy saddling Sidewinder, Sand looped her satchel over her shoulder with the rattlesnakes inside. She then glanced over to the east, still feeling a little troubled but Nancy's words had helped to soothe her soul.
"Hey Sand!" Taking her eyes from the horizon, the young Navajo ran over to her friend, who helped her onto the horses back. "It's the strangest thing your maid mentioning the east..." Sand's eyebrows raised in surprise as Nancy mounted Sidewinder. "...Clint's been rifling through McClaine's old ledgers and found something interesting."
Sand enclosed her hands around Nancy's waist. "What was it?"
Nancy gently kicked Sidewinders flanks heading towards town. "That McClaine was in cahoots with Maximillian DeBeers, some Louisiana cityboy with more money than sense. I came to find you because we've got a plan. How do you fancy heading to New Orleans and getting this rich asshole to talk?"
Sand's brow furrowed. "New Orleans? Is that in the east?"
Nancy chuckled over the thundering of Sidewinder's hooves. "Oh yes! Far to the east!"
Relaxing into her friends shoulder, Sand smiled preparing herself for the trials ahead. She was looking forward to meet her sweet sunrise once again.
(N.B the following story contains both characters from Red Rock I and Rufus' Original Character Victoria Van der Laar and our creation Maximilian DeBeers. Part 1 will follow shortly, we hope you enjoy it)
The Township of Red Rock, AZ, 18:00pm Thursday November 5th 1884
In the city of Red Rock, Arizona, the afternoon sun was giving way to a pleasant evening. Slowly, people were getting home after a day of honest work.
It was impressive how much three months could change a place. But it was also a testimony of how McClaine’s iron grip had been strangling the city.
The citizens could now walk freely the streets again, without fear of being manhandled by drunk outlaws – or even worst for the women. Shopkeepers didn’t have to pay McClain’s outrageously high ‘protection fees’ anymore, nor were townsfolk forced to slave at the gold mine for lower than minimal wages.
At the Silver Streak Casino, Abigail was serving drinks, dressed in her waitress uniform. Wendy was working as a barkeep – Grace, the original barmaid, had also recovered her old job but was happy to have some help.
The place was still quiet – only a few patrons were already there – but they anticipated it would be crowded in an hour.
A group of artisans were sharing drinks after a day of work.
“Took us three months, but I’m so happy to see the city is thriving again! Was skeptical about having a female sheriff and an Indian deputy, but can’t argue with the results! They did a good job getting things under control and helping us rebuild!” the town’s doctor commented.
Abigail chimed in: "That's easy for you to say. The Sheriff tricked me and knocked me out. She stole my clothes, drugged me, and then she left me naked in a closet with Constance."
Wendy added: "And she punched me out! I had a bruise on my face for a week! And her friend stuffed me a barrel! I was stiff for days!”
"Well they made sure you weren’t seriously harmed. Take what you can get. Besides, would you be happier if McClaine were still in charge?"
"You have a point." Abigail said. "They spared us and Bertha and Carmen in the vault, I wouldn't want to be any of the girls in McClaine's gang. I just wish she told me what her plan was an ask me for my clothes. I probably would have given them to her to help take down McClaine. Then she wouldn't have had to put me to sleep."
"But then McClaine would have figured out you helped them and he surely would have killed you for it. Knocking you out was necessary. At a minimum if you had cooperated the sheriff would still have had to drug you for your own good."
Wendy still commented to herself. “I thought that the sheriff and deputy Sand were just another pair of Jane's. They didn't have to punch me, strip me naked and stuff me in a barrel."
The blacksmith chimed in. "Come on Wendy. We all know how friendly you were to McClaine. You would have tattletaled off to him at the first opportunity. They were well within their rights to knock you out and tie you up. At least you've got a respectable job now, so why are you complaining?"
Wendy glared at him. “Easy for you to say that! You never risked being raped by his guys! You think I liked being chummy with him or his pigs? At least that way I could earn money, and maybe turn down a client or two!”
“Wow! Easy there, I meant no disrespect…”
“You better not! Or I’ll spit in your drink! And I’m not complaining. Just saying things are… awkward every time she comes for a drink.”
The doctor nodded. “I understand. Things are awkward too whenever she comes to be patched up. Carmen and Bertha prefer to let me do the work.”
“You better not fire them! Or else you’ll have to find an other place to drink!” Grace warned him from the alcohol storage room, where she was supervising a delivery with Emma from the general store.
“Of course I won’t! With all the newcomers settling here, I need my nurses!”
Justice had been brought for McClaine’s victims, even if some of them were uncomfortable about the unwilling part they had taken in the events…
The O'Hara Ranch, Outskirts of Red Rock, 23:00pm
Coming in to find Clinton sitting at the table, cleaning their revolvers Nancy suddenly swooned losing balance.
"Whoa!" Clinton looked up in surprise eyes wide. "Honey are you alright?" He rose to steady her. "Your looking a little pale, my love."
Nancy blinked feeling reassured by his touch, as he led her over to the bed. "I-I have been feeling that a lot lately and just this morning I brought up Sand's rattlesnake jerky, despite the fact I’m craving it more and more."
Clinton parted a loose strand of her hair looking with a mixture of affection and concern. "Hey it's not all that bad. Well actually it is. Better than yours"
Nancy laughed playfully pushing him. "You ass, that's the last time I'am cooking you anything."
The pair laughed before Nancy sighed. "Seriously though, Clint. I-I missed my bleed..."
Clinton's eyes widened. "Really? Nance have you been to see Doc Burrows? You know what this means right?"
Nancy nodded tears of joy in her eyes. "Yeah, that you’re going to be a father...again."
Clinton began to feel tears welling up as he touched his lover's belly, unable to contain their emotions or their love the two passionately kissed...
McClaine was gone, Red Rock was prospering again, they were confident everything was going to be alright.
The New Orleans Headquarters of the DeBeers Company, Rue de la Bourbon, New Orleans, LA, the Same Moment
In the office desk of his company’s New Orleans headquarters, Maximilian DeBeers was drinking a glass of his finest bourbon.
Maximilian DeBeers wasn’t a merciful man – and he’d be the first to claim it. He considered mercy a weakness in the cutthroat world of the captains of industry. Maximilian DeBeers also wasn’t a forgiving man – and once again he’d be the first to claim it. Any slight would cause him to retaliate tenfold – a way to keep all his rivals in line.
When he inherited the DeBeers Company five years ago, everybody thought he’d run the family business to the ground. A man barely in his mid-twenties? Preposterous!
Well, he certainly showed old these old farts…
When he was put in charge of the family company, Maximilian saw an opportunity. His father, Vincent DeBeers, had built his business empire with fair deals and honest trade from the Texan coast to Florida. As a consequence, he had amassed a comfortable fortune, built a company with an impeccable reputation, and was employing many loyal people. However, his business and fortune were a lot smaller than what they could have been had he had laxer morals. Maximilian wouldn’t make the same mistake. Legal operations were perfect to maintain a good reputation, but illegal ones netted bigger profits.
Maximilian had plans, big plans, to expand his influence westwards – New Mexico, Arizona, and one day California.
His secret partnership with infamous outlaw McClaine had been his second most profitable endeavor – right behind buying Victoria’s innocence and netting a share of the Van der Laar estate in the process. Under McClaine’s rule, Red Rock had been a reliable source of income, and a perfect place to launder his dirty money.
However, three months ago, a bunch of rats had ruined his perfect operation. One of them was even a disgusting redskin! And an other was a female sheriff! DeBeers wasn’t the kind of man to leave such a slight unpunished. And he also wasn’t stupid enough to give this nosy self-proclaimed sheriff and her crew the opportunity to follow McClain’s trail to him.
His scheme would combine business and vengeance – his favorite.
“Did you send the telegram to Victoria?” he asked his aide.
“Yes sir.”
“Good.” He looked at the posters on his desk. “Miss Cooper, you’re going to regret the day you crossed Maximilian DeBeers...”
Westlake, LA, Thursday 5th November 1884, 23:05pm
On the top floor of the brothel in the town of Westlake, Louisiana, Jill checked herself in the mirror. She saw the reflection of a gorgeous blue-eyed brunette with doe-like eyes, a soft white skin, and a curvaceous body, wearing a brightly colored red ruffled dress of which the skirt was deemed scandalously short by proper ladies – knee-length. Under the bell-shaped skirt could be seen a colorfully hued petticoat that barely reached her kid boots adorned with tassels. Her arms and shoulders were bare, the bodice cut low over her bosom, and her dress was decorated with fringe.
Jill adjusted her haircut – shoulder-long ringlets – and frowned when she sensed someone behind her.
She didn’t feel in danger – only women were allowed in this part of the building. Still, whoever this girl was, she was being rude creeping behind her like that. Jill turned to admonish her.
“Hey, if you’re thinking of borrowing my make-up, think again, ‘cause-”
A fist crashed into her face, knocking her out instantly. “Urk!” Jill fell from her chair and landed face up spread eagle onto the floor.
“I’ll be borrowing more than your make-up, sweetie.”
Victoria nudged the girl’s face with the tip of her boot. The floozy didn’t react. She was well and truly unconscious, her cheek was already bruising.
“Those chases are such a pain in the ass when civilians get involved…”
Sheriffs and marshals maybe despised bounty hunters, but were happy to let them do the dirty work. However, they usually got all fussy when innocents were killed in the crossfire. Thankfully, most agreed to look the other way if she only manhandled them a bit – as long as the outlaw was worth it – but it made things needlessly convoluted.
Victoria grabbed the pocket watch concealed in her shirt’s breast pocket, and nodded to herself.
“Right on schedule. Change of shift of the guards is in twenty minutes.”
Victoria blocked the door of the room and removed Jill’s dress and other clothes – the petticoat was also part of the outfit, so she didn’t hesitate to strip the girl naked. She noted the girls full buoyant young breasts with puffy dark pink areolas and full womanhood trimmed into a faint dark brown strip. “You skank must be pretty proud of your body, uh?”
She remembered how in her younger years all the neighboring boys would flock to her. She remembered how flattered she had felt. Then the years of her marriage had beat the appreciation out of her.
Jill began to stir and moan. A kick to the stomach cut her breath, making sure she wouldn’t scream, then Victoria grabbed her by the throat and punched her on the temple two more times to make sure she’d say unconscious a bit longer. She grabbed a rope to bind the girl’s wrists and ankles, shoved a thick white rag into her mouth as a cleave-gag, and threw the naked woman inside the cupboard. She used a chair to block the door.
Victoria removed her own clothes, and slipped into Jill’s petticoat and dress. She hid her revolver and derringer.
The bounty hunter then adjusted her dress in front of Jill’s mirror. “Show’s about to begin.”
Finding the right room was easy. She knew the layout of the place Having access to DeBeers’s network of informants was handy, even for her freelance jobs.
She went to a specific door, and opened it. “Entertainment is here.” Victoria announced with the emphasis of a stage actress.
Sitting on the bed, there was Bartholomew Beckett. ‘Bloody Bart’ as he called himself. A generic name for a generic outlaw. Still, the reward was neat. The owner of the brothel owed him money and a few favors, so he was offering him a safe place. Any enforcer of the law getting close to the building would be spotted immediately – and Bart would have the time to hightail. Unfortunately for Bart, people rarely paid heed to a woman entering a brothel...
“Hey! Where’s Jill?”
“She’s sick today. Trust me, I’ll show you the benefits of mature women…”
She moved her body suggestively.
He eyed her from the face to the legs with lust-filled eyes, and for one second she remembered of an other man. Vaclav used to look at her the same way, before fetching the riding crop to ‘correct his sinful wife’. She found herself smiling in anticipation.
“I’m sure you will…” Bart finally concluded.
Victoria closed the door. “Why don’t we start with the belt, stallion? Unless you feel the need to keep the gun.”
Bart laughed. “One’s never too cautious, honey.”
Victoria’s smile didn’t waver. “You’re damn right.”
“Uh?” Something clicked in his mind. Reflexively, his hand went for his gun.
Victoria drew her hidden revolver and shot him point blank in-between the eyes before he could fully draw his revolver. She was still smiling.
“Dead or alive, the poster said… I prefer them dead. Makes things easier for me.”
**************
The guy was worth the same dead anyway.
The sheriff didn’t like how an innocent girl was manhandled in the process, but he didn’t argue with result – nor could he argue with the official paper making Victoria an “esteemed representative of the DeBeers Company”. He agreed to sweep everything under the rug, and have ‘Bloody Bart’ take the fall for the girl’s bruises. ‘Bloody Bart’ couldn’t argue with their version anyway.
Victoria tapped the cash safely stored in a pocket of her coat. “What a wonderful world we live in…” She was waiting at a counter of the telegram station.
An employee interrupted her thoughts. “Oi! Victoria! Your boss has sent you a message.”
“Employer.”
“Pardon?”
“Employer, not boss. But because I like you, I’ll let it slide this one time.” Victoria smiled – the sweet dangerous smile she had learned to use back when she worked as a ranch hand and she needed to make sure the men stayed in line. “Get it wrong again, and I knock out a few teeth off your mouth.”
“G- Got it.”
Victoria grabbed the sheet of paper and read it. “Sheriff turned outlaw, he says? I’m sure there’s an interesting story behind that one… Wait! How many zeroes did he put? Now I know there’s an interesting story!” She snapped a finger in front of the employee she had just scared. “Hey, look alive! I need to send a telegram to the Van der Laar Estate before I leave! Gotta check on my sister...”
Near her, a finely-dressed man was dictating his own telegram. However, he shook his head in disgust at her display. “A crude lowly bounty hunter… Can’t believe the Van der Laar would sink so low…”
“No shit. That’s kinda the point. Thanks for noticing.”
The Cavill Estate, Brooklyn, New York, NY, Thursday 5th November 1884 18:00pm
Sylvié Delacroix sighed as she sat by the window darning another of Miss Eleanor's dresses, the periwinkle one that she had worn that night they were robbed in the desert.
She gazed at the dress the memory of that night come rushing back like a flood. How long had it been? Three months ago already? Yet, contrary to her mistress who had chosen to never mention the incident again, Sylvié couldn’t take it out of her mind.
Particularly, that magnetic exotic native girl with the dusky voice and piercing mismatched eyes who had touched her body. What was it the redheaded outlaw called her? Sand? Yes, such an intriguing name.
For months, she had dreamed of nothing else but those big pretty eyes, the soft gentle dusky voice that spoke of a sensitive soul behind that mask.
Then the touching.
At first, Sylvié had been terrified, scared that the woman may ravish her like she was lead to believe all natives do. But then the more Sand touched her, the more Sylvié had realized the girl had gentle if a little calloused hands that spoke of a harsh if lonely life. Strangely, there was no lust in her gesture. Only curiosity and admiration. In a way, she knew the woman meant her no harm, she was just starting to enjoy the attention, loving the intimacy and kindness the native had shown her.
Nobody had touched her the way this mysterious native woman had…
Sylvié had always known she was different, that she preferred the company of women but she had never acted on those feelings. Not until she had met that rugged, mysterious native who she had fallen in love with.
Later, she had heard some faint rumors. That those outlaws had fought against a fearsome gang, and liberated a town.
From that moment on, Sylvié had wanted to find out more about the native girl. Who was she? Where did she call home? What did she look like under the mask? And what did her skin feel like?
I wonder if I will ever see her again? I want to so badly! I want to be rid of Miss Eleanor forever and find my dusky native! To finally be free!
"Sylvié!? Sylvié?! Why have you got your head in the clouds again?!"
The shrill voice of her mistress brought her back to reality with an unwelcome bump.
"I am sorry Miss Eleanor. I must have dozed off."
The blonde precocious overgrown brat stood her hands on her hips. "Dozed off?! More like you're being a lazy good for nothing shirker! I wanted that dress darned an hour ago and here I find you daydreaming! Darn that dress now before we set off for New Orleans in the morning or I will get daddy to toss you back onto the streets and into the gutter where he found you!"
With that she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. "Stupid stuck up brat, someone's still got the desert up their craw." She said taking up the needle picturing the moment she saw Eleanor naked and getting knocked out right before her, the memory bringing a smile to her face.
The O'Hara Ranch, 05:56am, Friday November 6th 1884
When she entered Clinton’s room, Nancy glanced at all the sheets of paper spread on the table. And the wall. And the floor.
“Every time I come here, there seems to be more paper. It’s like they have kids every time I turn around...”
Clinton laughed, and couldn’t help but briefly caress Nancy’s belly.
“Made any progress?”
Clinton’s face turned serious again. “Yes. It took me time, and many telegrams, but you won’t like the result.”
Dispensing justice to McClaine and his gang, Nancy had discovered, was merely the first step. A notorious outlaw such as McClaine couldn’t possibly have held such an obvious grip on an entire town without some outside help. Some powerful man hiding in the shadows, with large pockets and lots of influence.
“Tell me.”
“Does the name Maximilian DeBeers ring a bell?”
“I heard of the DeBeers Company.” A trade company, with its hands in railroad and industry as well. Not the richest, but certainly one of the most robust. She knew it had branches in all the south-eastern states and territories of the country, from Texas to Florida. The heart of its power was located in Louisiana. Lately, it had extended its grip westwards in the direction of Red Rock. “You’re telling me he was the one behind McClaine?”
“I almost didn’t find the pattern, he covered his tracks well, but yes.”
“He sounds like bad news.”
“It’s not the worst. I heard rumors from the latest travelers. DeBeers is making a move. I believe he’s after us. We both know the influence of such a man has no borders. Whatever he’s doing in Louisiana, it’s only a matter of time before it reaches us here… I need to go there, and investigate.”
“Are you offering me a trip to New Orleans?”
Clinton didn’t smile at her joke.
Nancy frowned. “You better not think of leaving me behind.” she warned him.
“I didn’t say-”
“You were thinking it.”
“… Yes. Sorry. It’s just… I couldn’t stand losing you or the baby… Not a second time…”
Nancy’s heart melted a little. She couldn’t stay angry at him. “And I couldn’t stand losing you or Sand… That’s why I’m coming. Besides, where am I the safest? With you and my friend by my side, or here on my own, putting the people of Red Rock in danger? You can’t ask me to just stay out of the action.”
“You’re right. I didn’t fall for you because of your caution…”
“Sand is hunting today. Said she wanted to bring me more rattlesnakes. I’ll fetch her. I want to deal with DeBeers before my belly begins to bloat.”
Outskirts of Red Rock, 06:00am
Rushing Sand sat perched on a small rocky mesa, the town of Red Rock shimmering in the distance watching the reds and yellows dancing across the sky. Musing that ever since she was a little girl she had never seen anything quite beautiful. That was until she had seen her first white woman naked bathing in a stream, the sun glistening from her wet body dripping with water. Sand was only 16 when she first realized that she was different from the other girls in her tribe, where they talked about boys she would look at other women and be enchanted by them. This along with her bearing the stigma of being a halfbreed child with funny eyes had made Sand feel quite alone, like an outcast among her people.
That was until she had came to Red Rock, at first to restore her mother, Soaring Eagle's, honour and prove herself an adult in the eyes of her chief Stalking Coyote, disproving her doubters and removing the shame of being a cursed child from her name. But then her whole life changed, she had saved the life of Nancy Cooper a woman who would later become a dear friend and met her future lover, Clinton O'Hara and together they had slain the demon McClaine, Sand's own father. A man who had wronged all of them and who now roamed the shadowlands for his crimes.
It was during this time she had met the young maid who had accompanied Eleanor Cavill and stolen her clothes. The pretty maid had captivated the young Navajo, so much so that she touched the girl's naked body without her consent and in so doing shamed herself and dishonored the one woman she had found more beautiful than this sunrise. The deed haunted Sand's dreams but so to had this girl, who she dreamed of for the last three months. The maid would come unbidden into her dreams naked and Sand could still picture making sexual relations with her, but she knew she couldn't allow herself such thoughts until she had sought out the girl and begged for her forgiveness. So both their honors could be restored. Feeling her stomach grumble, Sand shook the thoughts from her mind, focusing on the present and that finding some rattlesnake to break her morning fast. Grabbing her horn bow, Sand looped it over her shoulder before climbing down the mesa with the grace of the Coyote. Reaching the foot of the column of rock, Sand nocked an arrow and began her hunt in earnest tiptoeing across the desert.
It didn't take Sand long to find her first rattlesnake, the telltale hissing and rattling of the creatures tail alerting the navajo scout to its presence, it's forked tongue poking in and out catching the warm desert air. The serpent hissed rattling as it coiled ready to sink its teeth into Sand's arm. Bringing up her bow, the young Navajo said a small oath to the spirits of her departed grandparents, summoning their wisdom from ages past to guide her aim true as she gently breathed in to steady her shot then released the tension on her bowstring. To Sand's delight the arrow pierced the serpents neck sending the animal toppling to the desert dead. It's rattle shook with one final spasm before going limp.
Kneeling by the dead serpent, Sand took out her arrow from it's long neck with a sickening squelching sound wiping it with a length of cloth before kneeling by the dead rattlesnake bowing her head. "Creature of lies and deceit, bound by your nature. I have taken your life to feed my friends. I make this oath to mother earth, to use all of your remains and to waste nothing so the great cycle continues." Waiting for a couple of moments, Rushing Sand scooped up the dead serpent into her satchel. She reasoned that she may need another two. Nancy had begun to crave Sand's rattlesnake roast a little more in the last month and the young navajo knew just what that implied. She had seen the same amongst her people, Nancy was with child and Sand realised that dearest friend needed her now more than ever. Wasting no time, Sand bounded across the desert with the speed of the noble coyote.
Over the course of fifteen minutes, Sand had collected another rattlesnake shooting the creature through its eye and just needed one more. Coming to a dried creek, the abandoned Red Rock Gold Mine standing like a silent witness shimmering on the horizon, Sand stalked silently forward. Then she heard it, the telltale hissing and rattling of the serpents tail just behind her. Quickly she spun around nocking her arrow seeing the creature camouflaged against the desert. While a settler would have been caught unawares by the serpents deception, Sand was a navajo scout and was above such trickery. Smiling she loosed the arrow just as the sun rose coming over the bluff shining into her eyes. Bringing up her arm to shield her eyes, Sand cast her mind back...
(Three months earlier)
With her head held high, Rushing Sand entered the tipee of her clans leader Stalking Coyote, the light of the campfire casting his lined face a wizened shadow. Next to him sat the elderly medicine man, Wandering Cloud his painted face that was tanned as old Bison skin. "Have you returned from your quest, aweè'? Does the demon McClaine walk the shadowlands for the crime he committed against our people..." He then glanced to Sands mother, Soaring Eagle, a pretty middle aged woman standing by the tents entrance. "...and your mother?"
Taking the bloodied scalp of her father from her belt, Sand knelt in front of the fire presenting it to the old leader. " Naat'aanii, I offer you a token of the demon McClaine who was slain by my hand. The Blood Oath is satisfied." Taking the bloodied scrap of human flesh from her hands, Coyote nodded tossing the trophy into the flames were it roasted in the fire.
"Then you are no longer a child, Rushing Sand. I, Stalking Coyote recognize you as an adult. Cloud..." He turned to the medicine man, who retrieved the burnt ashes of McClaine's scalp from the fire, mixing them with a mortar and pestle with a red dye. Scooping some of the mixture with his fingers he daubed Sand's cheek and forehead with it. "You Rushing Sand are now a hunter of the Blue Water people and cursed no longer, rise and be welcome."
Smiling to cheers and receiving hugs from her clanmates, Sand saw her mother flash her a look of pride.
Strangely, the young Navajo felt bittersweet. ‘I wish Nancy was here’ she thought. ‘She deserves the praise as much as I do. I couldn't have done it without her. Or Clinton for that matter.’ Feeling her hand being grasped, Sand thought for a second it was Nancy or that brunette maid she had seen in her dreams. But smiled when it was her mother, who lead her outside towards their tipee on the edge of camp.
"Words cannot express how much I'm proud of you my beautiful child. The people have finally recognized you as the hunter you are and we have closed this troubling chapter in our lives. I love you, my daughter. " Soaring Eagle, kissed Sand on her forehead before caressing her cheek.
The young Navajo looked away for a moment, at a spot over her mothers shoulder.
"What's wrong, Sand. You look troubled, are you not proud of your accomplishments?"
Sand sighed hugging her mother. "Yes of course, but I didn't do it alone. I had help from two honorable white people, I couldn't have done it without them, mother."
Eagle's face suddenly turned grave, she turned angrily from her daughter. "What have I told you about the white man, daughter!? They are as devious as the rattlesnake and can turn on you like a rabid dog just as quickly!" She snarled clutching her belly.
Sand shook her head. "No, mother! They are my friends, they would never betray me. They are not father!"
Eagle advanced on her child, tears wet with anger and pain. "Don't you ever speak of him again, Sand. He is dead to us." She averted her eyes from her daughters just for a moment and Sand knew the reason why. Before she calmed down, embracing her child once more. "Forgive me my dear, I still find myself returning to that awful night. This isn't about me, this is your day." Looking down at her daughters body, still wearing the outfit she had stripped off a dead woman she gasped. "Look at you! You're all skin and bone, let me cook your favourite Bison stew. That should fatten you up!" Forcing a smile, Sand followed her mother inside.
Placing her weapons to one side, Sand sat crossed legged on the ground watching her mother prepare dinner. "So now you’re back permanently and not a child anymore, Sand..." Soaring Eagle busied herself dicing up pieces of Bison and dropping them into the cooking pot, the meat sizzling along with the chopped vegetables. "...I thought we might discuss your future. Rushing River has asked after you. He's always been interested in you since you were knee high to a coyote pup."
Sand sighed, her mother meant well and always tried to stare her towards the young handsome scout, but she could never bring herself to tell mother how she truly felt. In truth she feared her reaction. But Nancy had taught her to have courage, to have strength in your convictions and never be afraid to make the hard choices. Sand took a deep breath.
"Mother. I cannot accept River's proposal, in fact I don't want the hand of any man. It's not their companionship i desire the most..."
Soaring Eagle's brow furrowed in confusion as she doled out the creamy broth into Sand's bowl. "Don't be silly, daughter. Who else are you going to marry? I would like to have strong grandchildren to pass on my secrets too."
Sand could feel her heart pounding in her ears, she knew the truth would hurt her but she couldn't live in silence any longer either. "Mother, I-I..." she took a deep shuddering breath "...prefer the company of other women. I always have."
Soaring Eagle looked perplexed, her face so much like Sand's utterly confused. "That's impossible. A man and woman can only be in union with each other...its...its not right. You are mistaken."
Sand shook her head. "No, mother. It's how I feel. I...I cannot explain it." She paused drinking her stew, the warm broth not soothing her soul.
Suddenly, her mother rose up. "You are cursed! I didn't want to believe it but you have your father’s dark soul. His base lusts."
Sand threw down her stew, tears streaming down her face she got up after her mother. "Mother please, wait! You...you don't mean that!"
She laid a hand on the woman's shoulder, but Eagle recoiled from her touch. "You are no daughter of mine!" She snarled rushing through the tent flap.
As Sand began to cry she momentarily caught sight of the brunette maid from her dreams smiling at her, before she faded away revealing the evening sun. Dazzled by the sun's light, Sand raised her hand to shield her tear stained eyes...
(Present Day)
Sand blinked, shaking her head at the memory that came unbidden. She looked at the rattlesnake she had just shot only to find a pretty young woman standing there in her maid outfit. Flashing her a beautiful smile.
"Seek me out in the east, I will be waiting." She said in her melodious accent, pointing over Sand's shoulder. "But don't fear the rattlesnake but the rabid dog..."
"No, wait!" Sand pleaded with the vision as it faded but before she could make sense of the maid’s words, she heard deep throated growls from behind her.
Spinning around, the young Navajo saw a wild dog eyes red with desperation and starvation. The beast snarled, froth and spittle foaming from its mouth. It was a thin emaciated beast, with stretched brown skin tanned like old leather. Carefully nocking an arrow, Sand braced itself for the beasts charge.
Suddenly the dog pounced, too fast for the Navajo scout to aim it bowled her over knocking her bow from her grasp and sending the shot wide. The animal pinned Sand to the earth, it's jaws snapping for her throat. Bringing her left arm up to shield her face, Sand desperately reached for the knife on her belt but couldn't reach it. No! It can't end like this! Spirits help me! Where is Nancy? She prayed as the dogs feral strength threatened to overwhelm her. Then as if to answer her prayers, a shot rang out and the dog let out a short whine of pain, before it slumped dead on top of her. Feeling the creatures warm blood spray on her face, Sand turned breathing a sigh of relief...
There silhouetted against the sun and Sidewinder, her revolver still smoking was Sheriff Nancy Cooper a look of protective fury on her face that soon turned to concern. "Oh my God! Sand are you alright?!" She holstered her revolver running to her friends side.
The young navajo nodded pushing the wild dogs cooling corpse off of her. "Thank you, Nancy. If you hadn't been here..."
Nancy breathed hauling her best friend to her feet. "Don't mention it. You saved my ass more times over the last three months than Clint has. And you know how jealous he gets." She joked.
Sand made a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging.
Seeing her distress, Nancy gently rubbed her shoulders. "Sand, is there something on your mind?"
The Navajo nodded. "Yeah. Can we talk?"
Nancy patted her shoulders. She sat on a rock, and offered her friend to take a drink from her flask. "Sounds like something that needs to be shared over a drink… I also have something to tell you. But please start...”
Sand sat next to her, and accepted the drink with a grateful nod. "...I don't know if I could even call myself Navajo anymore. What if my mother is right? What if I'm just like McClaine?"
Nancy put a consoling arm around her shoulder. "Rushing Sand, my most dearest friend. You are nothing like that bastard. You are honorable, brave and fearless everything Four Fingers wasn't. And what you did, telling your mom about your true self took guts. You don't need to be in a tribe to be Navajo. You can still love other women and be proud of your heritage."
Sand flashed her a smile as they came together in a one armed hug, touching foreheads.
"So about this vision of yours....? You can’t take this cute French maid out of your mind it seems..." Nancy teased her.
Sand went bright red then did something she had never done before. She giggled. "She is the most beautiful woman on the earth, even more so than the sunrise. She told me to meet her to the east. I know it must seem silly to you, to be infatuated with a vision of a girl."
Nancy shook her head, taking up her flask and giving it a swirl. "No of course it doesn't..." she paused to take a swig before continuing. And your best friend I would say follow your heart, go east, find this girl and most importantly be yourself."
Sand smiled then impulsively kissed her friends forehead, before turning a darker shade of red. "Thank you, Nancy. Bless the spirits for you."
Nancy flashed her a wink. Both women laughed as they finished off their drink.
"Right. We better get this cleared away and head back to town. Wouldn't want Clinton to worry. We have to leave with the first train. A new mission."
“Good news. I need some action.” Sand nodded. She relished the chance to take her mind off her concerns.
With Nancy saddling Sidewinder, Sand looped her satchel over her shoulder with the rattlesnakes inside. She then glanced over to the east, still feeling a little troubled but Nancy's words had helped to soothe her soul.
"Hey Sand!" Taking her eyes from the horizon, the young Navajo ran over to her friend, who helped her onto the horses back. "It's the strangest thing your maid mentioning the east..." Sand's eyebrows raised in surprise as Nancy mounted Sidewinder. "...Clint's been rifling through McClaine's old ledgers and found something interesting."
Sand enclosed her hands around Nancy's waist. "What was it?"
Nancy gently kicked Sidewinders flanks heading towards town. "That McClaine was in cahoots with Maximillian DeBeers, some Louisiana cityboy with more money than sense. I came to find you because we've got a plan. How do you fancy heading to New Orleans and getting this rich asshole to talk?"
Sand's brow furrowed. "New Orleans? Is that in the east?"
Nancy chuckled over the thundering of Sidewinder's hooves. "Oh yes! Far to the east!"
Relaxing into her friends shoulder, Sand smiled preparing herself for the trials ahead. She was looking forward to meet her sweet sunrise once again.
So I'll mostly focus on the behind the scenes.
But indeed, after spending the better half of 2025 anticipating this moment and keeping the secret, it is now finally out...