The big black stallion was far too tall for the petite redhead who sat astride it, her hair tied back in a ponytail. The brand on the horses flank read "SOD". The red haired woman dismounted outside the saloon, hitched the stallion to a rail and pushed through the double swing doors, spurs chinking on the boards.  She quickly moved to one side of the door, force of habit, keeping her from being silhouetted, and allowing her to see into the dimly lit room more easily.<br/><br/>Moving to the bar, she glared at the bar tender. "Whiskey". She demanded, her voice soft and melodic.<br/><br/>The barman looked at her nervously. "Sorry, Miss O'Donovan, but until you pay off your tab, I'm not allowed to serve..." His voice tailed off as he blinked at the small leather bag she pulled out of the pocket of her coat. The bag chinked with the familiar sound of coins as she dropped it on the bar.<br/><br/>"Whiskey!" She said again.<br/><br/>The tender smiled in relief, and tipped the bag out, counting the coins. "That should cover it". He pushed the small remaining pile back to O'Donovan, took down a shot glass and a bottle and poured.<br/><br/>She pushed two coins back. "Leave the bottle".<br/><br/>Sara sighed softly as she downed her first glass of whiskey in three days. It was a dry ride out into the badlands where she'd hidden her stash before coming to town the first time. That bag, and the other in her other pocket, represented the last of it. She would be officially out of funds in two days. She considered joining the poker game but she couldn't cheat well enough to sit in with that crowd. They would take her for every penny she had and then some!<br/><br/>She refilled the glass and turned to survey the room.<br/><br/>There was a new kid in town, just at the other end of the bar. He looked up at her. "O'Donovan? Sara O'Donovan?"<br/><br/>"Maybe, who wants to know?"<br/><br/>"Joseph Ward. You don't remember me... But you shot my Da, and you ... left my Ma so skeered..."<br/><br/>The kid turned towards her, hand hovering by the but of his gun. A general scraping of stools and scurrying of feet indicated the clearing of their lines of fire. Sara flicked her sheepskin coat back from where her Colt Army pistol hung at her hip, the leather holster polished smooth and the ivory grip's ornamental carvings slowly wearing away. "You sure you wanna do this, kid?"<br/><br/>Ward wore a new Colt Peacemaker at his hip and he had clearly been practising. "You're coming with me, dead or alive." He said.<br/><br/>"I doubt that!" Sara spat into a nearby spittoon. The gesture was deliberately insulting. Her eyes never left Ward's face.<br/><br/>The kid 's hand went for the revolver. Sara's was in her hand and roared loud in the small bar before Ward's had even cleared the leather. The bullet buried itself in his right shoulder. "So... fast!" he gasped, the peacemaker slipping from his numb hand.<br/><br/>Sara chuckled. "Kid, I'm<em>SLOW!</em>" She holstered the Army Colt and kicked the kid's gun away. "But you are the slowest! Somebody wanna get the doc?" She turned away as concerned citizens gathered the unfortunate kid up and took his weapon away. "Shit... Another nice evenin' in Sotton!"