False Cowboy
by: Lily Griffith
I’d been watching the man across the bar for a while now. He was at the far end, and I cut him off about an hour ago, as he had been giving me and a few others a decent amount of trouble, shouting and muttering about some woman he most likely didn’t get the pleasure of having a tango with. He wasn’t a regular, I knew that for sure. I didn’t recognize him in my usual crowd of rowdy men, and he was wearing a weirdly shaped brim. Our crowd around here has a much larger brim to help with the sunlight, and here he was with a skinny little thing! Doubt it helps with the sun blaring through saloon windows.
I had only served him one or two drinks, but he still reeked of spirits. I was still trying to figure out why he was sticking around in the first place. I didn’t like having any new stragglers during my shifts; I took pride in protecting my men. That, and I just didn’t feel like gettin’ in a shootout today.
“‘Lilah!” an older man on the opposite end of the bar called in my general direction, snapping me out of my daze. “Hand me another round!”
“Demandin’ as always, Mr. Sullen! Should learn to treat the one who serves yer drinks with more respect!” I gave him a sly look as I quickly poured another and slid it across the bar. “There ya go, sir.”
He scoffed at my jokes. “C’mon sugar! Y’know I don’t mean no harm!” He smiled up at me from his stool, tipping his hat as he handed me his leftover short bit.
The saloon door creaked slightly as a slimmer cowboy waltzed in like he’d been here all his life. I ain’t never seen him before. The afternoon sun behind him found its way straight to my eyes. All I could see was his hat, positioned in the usual outlaw style, covering his face completely, and a cigarette peeking out from just under the brim. Sliding past the tables and glowing candles atop them, the man took a seat directly in front of me. None of the other patrons paid him any mind. All the guys playin’ cards and gambling didn’t move their eyes from their winning hands. My men drinking at the bar kept talking. Everyone went on as usual, except for the scraggly man from before at the far end. He had started to shift uncomfortably in his seat, like a rattlesnake had made its way into his ridin’ jeans.
“And just what’re you lookin’ for, sir?” I questioned the new cowboy, knowing I was gonna get the same answer as always, already envisioning how he was gonna trouble me for a whiskey. He added more cigarette smoke into the already hazy air, careful to blow it away from me, but when he spoke, I was shocked to hear a feminine voice rise from under the brim of the cowboy hat.
“I’on’ need nothin’ dear, thank ya though,” she said, tipping her hat up just enough to smile at me. A long silence fell over the entire saloon, the candles in their lamps wavering more than anyone else in the room. I studied this cow… well, I can’t call her a cowboy no more, but I will. A woman. That’s what she was. A female cowboy. I’d heard stories from my men here of a woman impersonating a cowboy round our parts, but my God, I never expected her to walk into my very own house and board.
I’d’a never known! She did well to keep her appearance as manly as possible: short hair, dusty jeans, thick gloves to hide thin hands, but there would be no denying on my part, she was gorgeous. I couldn’t think to do anything but stare at the marvelous thing. I mean, really! A cowboy who wasn’t a boy at all! There ain’t many women in this small town to begin with. Yet not all folks seemed to share my astonishment at the matter.
“Passin’ yourself off as a true cowboy… It’s a mockery,” the spirit-soaked man muttered as he got up from his stool.
“I ain’t mean to offend, sir. Just here for a bit o’ eye candy.” She stubbed her cigarette out on her pants as she locked eyes with me, my mouth getting as dry as the dust out on the road. She wasn’t even bothering to look at the haggler.
“Your kind ain’t welcome here, Barkley. Y’know that,” he drawled as his boots hit the wood in a slow manner. I quickly patted the gun strapped to my hip. My pop had given it to me. For emergencies only, he had stated. This seemed as good a time as ever.
“I’ll say who all’s allowed here,” I spoke as quickly as I could. I felt it was only right. I was offered a home here by Mr. Refner in exchange for working the bar and taking care of the patrons. I should have a say in who was allowed.
“Well I’ll be damned. I sure know why you’re so worked up. Part of the law, are ya?” Barkley quickly continued, as if I hadn’t said a thing.
He scoffed. “No ma’am. Just a real cowboy tryna make a livin’ off bounties.” At the mention of that very word, six other men seemed to perk up. Even whisper the word “bounty” round here, and you’ll have an issue on your hands in minutes. “You’ve got quite a big one hoverin’ over your head, miss…. Somebody important wants your antics put to an end!”
This cowboy had to have felt the eyes on her now. As a result, she slowly got up from her own stool as the man started to circle her. With both of them standing now, I could properly gauge her height. She was likely close to six feet — my guess was 5’11”. She towered over the smaller man. His boots continued to drag on the wood, proving to be a nuisance to me, Barkley, and my other patrons.
“Listen, you’re botherin’ the wonderful bar-lady here, and you don’t seem to be movin’ all too quickly to collect the shit hangin’ over my head. Either you get your show on the road, grab your horse and leave her alone… or I kick you out myself.” Barkley picked her foot up slightly, inspecting her shoes. “My boots could use a cleanin’, and your ass seems like a damn good target.”
Whoever this man was, he seemed to go into a laughing fit at the possibility of the picture she had painted in his head. “Like you could kick me out!” He muttered something under his breath while holding back a chuckle, “You probably couldn’t even shoot a squealin’ pig!”
Barkley drew her gun from her holster.
Faster than I could blink, she shot a bottle cap clean off a man’s unopened beer, careful not to snag anyone. She earned a quick holler of “Thank you!” as well as some applause from my men at the bar.
I watched her intently as she cocked her head to the side. “Couldn’t shoot a squealin’ pig, huh? Mr…?” She trailed off, expecting him to at least provide a name.
“Keller. And you showin’ off a couple o’ tricks ain’t gonna scare me away from a bounty as big as yours.” The newly named Mr. Keller paused and turned to the rest of the men gambling at their respective tables. With his arms spread out like a preacher, the wood seemed to ripple as his voice boomed, “Five. Thousand. Dollars…” He paused. “Five thousand dollars, men! To shoot down a woman! To shoot down this very woman standin’ in front o’ yer eyes! C’mon now! Shoot!”
A couple of men snaked their hands down to their holsters. Even seeing the act made my blood boil. I knew damn well they weren’t going to listen to a woman, so I kept my mouth shut as best I could.
I’ve never been a quiet woman.
It’s why I work at the bar.
“Aye!” I all but barked to get anybody’s attention. It didn’t work. I tried again. “The hell is wrong with y’all?” No one turned, except for Barkley.
“I don’t think this is gon’ go over well, sugar cube…” she whispered to me as much as she could from over the bar. I looked at my regulars. They were all looking at me, awaiting instructions.
I signaled for them to protect me, as well as our new arrival. I didn’t want this to go on too long. Too many bullet holes in the wood would be taken out of my pay. I figured I could make a break for the stairs to my left as soon as possible, but it was gonna take some damn quick footwork. The air in the room had been pulled taut and thin as sewing thread. Multiple men had now stood up from their chairs. They disregarded any winning hand they possibly held, quickly raking up any pieces of spare change left unattended on their tables. They didn’t need those seemingly small winnings now, not when they had five grand sitting in front of them for the head of this woman. I took my trusted six-shooter out from my holster, heavy in my hand. Not a single soul moved. Whoever did would be shot immediately.
“You really wanna do this, Mr. Keller?” Barkley gave him one last out.
I watched as the man slowly aimed his own revolver.
Click.
“Shit.” The word escaped from my lips as a resounding crack of a gunshot was heard. I scrambled to duck under the bar. My ears were ringing more than they ever had in my life. I heard muffled footsteps as the entire saloon erupted into something akin to a twister. Mr. Sullen had somehow gotten behind the bar and was now crouched with me. I tried my best to decipher the words coming from his mouth as he rocked my shoulders back and forth.
“-stairs!” He pointed to the stairs that led to the second floor, his hat nearly falling off as a bullet whizzed by. I got the gist and quickly nodded, showing him I understood. Hopefully, we were on the same page.
I heard low rumbles on the opposite side of the room as I stood slightly, tables and chairs being flipped over for makeshift cover, if I had to guess. I didn’t have time to look, I just had to move. Most smart people had run out by now or found themselves out of the line of fire. Barkley, as it would seem, was not one of the smart ones.
I watched as she fired with deadly precision, already only two bullets left in her chamber. She had already nicked Mr. Keller in the arm. He was holding his shooting arm, and I watched as crimson liquid bloomed beneath a hole in his shirt. One other man, standing at the opposite end of the room, took aim and prepared to fire right at Barkley’s chest.
Without thinking, I fired.
My ears rang even more as my arm struggled to stay straight from the kickback. My bullet caught him straight under his kneecap. The man sprawled to the floor in pain, a loud thud sounding as he held his knee close to his chest. Wails and yelps could be heard from his mouth as a man I saw playing poker earlier rushed to his side.
I barely knew what was happening anymore. I saw multiple men lying at tables, some on the floor. Some bleeding, some not. It didn’t matter to me. Not right now. I quickly grabbed Barkley’s arm and pushed up the stairs, careful to keep my revolver in my hand. Finding my door on the left, I pushed it open as quickly as I could. Barkley stumbled into my room, looking about as lost as a chicken with its head cut off. The sound of gunshots subsided as I hastily locked my door, trying my best not to drop my key as my hands shook.
A few seconds of silence and heavy breathing went by. “So…” She quietly sounded from a chair in the corner of my room. When did this smart-ass even sit down? I whip my body toward hers, revolver still in hand.
“‘So’?” I glared at her, “You get us in a shootout, cause half of the bar to cover your ass, and I nearly lose my life bringing you into my room… just for you to start with ‘So’?” I purposefully cut my words as short as possible, flailing my gun around carelessly.
“Ma’am, I do apologize—” she quickly states. I’m nearly halfway across the room to her now. I stomp my feet on the ground as I continue toward her.
“You come into my saloon, actin’ like you own the damn place. Like you put your blood, sweat, and tears into it every day. You come in here and you make eyes at me while you continue to provoke a random man who you know absolutely nothin’ about, who seems to know absolutely everything about you! You come in here and give me a goddamn heart attack all ‘cause you wanna dress like a little cowboy. Your mama sure didn’t raise you well. All this fuckin’ ruckus for what? For money? For the jobs? For the status? Well, I’ll tell you what you’re in for!” I finished my ramble and realized I was nearly standing on the toes of her boots. My gun was pointed just under her chin as my chest heaved up and down.
Taking one finger and moving my loaded gun from her face, she spoke softly to me, “Still haven’t figured it out yet, huh, sugar?”
My mouth dropped as I gaped at her. “You wanna play games with me right now, Mr. Cowboy?”
She released a small chuckle, “The, uh… church… don’t necessarily—” she made small hand motions as she explained— “agree with my way of life.” Barkley shot me a look.
“What? Bein’ a fuckin’ cowboy?”
“No…” She slowly moved her hands to my waist. “Likin’ pretty creatures like you.”
My head spun as fast as a boot spur. She took her hand and tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at her. “Nobody seems to like my so-called ‘lifestyle,’ so I lay low a bit. I apologize for any trouble I caused you, sweet thing. I hope I can repay you.”
My breath quickened, my chest heaving up and down. “And just how would you do that, ma’am…” I whispered to her. My lips nearly brushed hers as I talked.
“Well, I’d never miss the opportunity to kiss a gorgeous thing such as yourself. If you’ll allow me.”
“What about the church?”
“Delilah. Nothing holy could ever compare to you. I’m quite willing to devalue God himself, just to taste you.”
I grabbed the edges of her leather coat, and rising onto my tip toes, I kissed her, slow and sweet, tasting of whiskey and gun smoke. I needed more.
We were quickly interrupted by the skids of table legs and chairs below us. I jumped, pushing Barkley away from me as hard as I could. Guilty, I looked at her from the 10-foot space I had created between us.
“You could always come with me. Take up bein’ a cowboy yourself,” she suggested.
I couldn’t leave everything behind. I had built a community here. I didn’t even hear the words leave my mouth, but I said them regardless. I couldn’t go with her. As much as my heart pushed me to. I watched as she opened my bedroom door and walked out of sight. I stood, frozen, for what seemed like an eternity. I was going to just let her go? This stranger and I had shared a kiss, a good one at that. She was living a free life. Away from the brothel work, away from school teaching, away from dealing with the same drunkards weekly. I couldn’t.
I chose wrong.
I threw my door open and raced down the stairs, my shoes sounding loud bangs from the wooden panels as I pushed through the flipped tables that watched me learn to pour my first drink. The chairs offered a respite from my aching legs after standing from dusk till dawn. The countless glass bottles of whiskey I’d steal swigs from when Mr. Sullen stayed late, ranting about his issues.
I pushed past the main doors of the saloon. The same doors I’d walked through as a young, small thing. I crossed the other side of those doors as someone else entirely.
When I did, Barkley was already a mile down the road, a speck of brown between me and the vastness of the West.
She was gone. Just like that. Disappearing into a cloud of dust like she was never here, leaving me and the saloon in her wake. Watching her ride off, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d always think about the woman dressed as a cowboy who once sat at my bar, kissed my lips. Hopefully, living a free life away from the men she didn’t care for, while I stayed here, polishing whiskey glasses. Maybe I’d find her again someday, just as I found her the first time, smoking a cigarette in a saloon.
Maybe then I’d join her.