South of Nowhere 1. Stranger In Town

The drifter entered the town at noon, high noon, sitting proudly astride a chestnut mare that cantered with all the elegance of one used to carrying another's burden. The dusty streets were deserted as the sun beat down relentlessly, melting any who were not wise enough to seek temporary shelter in the shadowy confines of a building. There were no trees, their never were, trees refused to grow in the barren wasteland in which the town resided. With the soft clicking of tongue to teeth, the drifter turned the horse towards the local saloon, the loud raucous noise from within, greeting the drifter's ears long before the horse got close. Tying the animal's reins to the post attached to the saloon's porch, the stranger rubbed the beast's side a moment before turning and entering through the swinging wooden doors. The room was full, every seat in the house occupied by a body, not that the drifter wanted to sit, having been atop a horse for the past week. Dark eyes surveyed the room before heading towards the counter. The drifter spoke with a voice that rumbled quietly across to the bartender, "Gimme the strongest drink you've got." The tender didn't reply, just filled up a dirty mug with a murky brown liquid, plopping it down in front of the stranger. With a slight nod of the head, money was exchanged, the drifter then turning to lean against the bar's edge, sandy brown cowboy hat pulled low to shield a weather beaten face.

"Willam I've already told you no!" A voice rang through the clamor of the room, reaching ears of one who had just rolled into town. "I ain't interested in anything you might be tryin' to offer me!"

"Sweetie, I ain't tryin' to offer you nothin'." The man talking bellowed a laugh. "I'm just gonna be givin' it to ya anyway. You ain't even gotta thank me later."

"I said _no_!"

Throwing back the liquor, a welcome relief to a parched throat, the stranger pushed away from the counter, and began walking with slow, measured steps towards the woman and man. They both turned towards the approaching footsteps, surprised expressions plastered on both their faces. The woman took the opportunity to wrench her arm free from the grasp of the obviously drunk man, causing him to stumble back a step with a loud curse, bringing the cacophony of sound to a halt. Penetrating brown eyes met his bleary green. "Sir," the word flowed like lethal honey from the drifter's mouth, "suh", the drifter had said, "Unless my hearing stands in need of some checking, I do believe the lady here has denied your advances." Sharp eyes looked Willam up and down, causing an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding to settle into the pit of his stomach. "I reckon it may be wise for you to gon' ahead and leave her alone."

"The hell I will." Willam slowly recovered, standing to his full height towering over the drifter, his breath smelling of stale beer. "You ain't got no say in this; you ain't even from around here."

A menacing smile twisted the stranger's face, brown eyes grew darker, giving them the appearance of nearly being black. A hand removed the tan hat, a auburn ponytail fell free, falling past shoulder, the smile softened some around the edges when those browns met electrifying blues, and something…happened. "Ma'am," the question was directed to the stunned woman whose golden hair shone in the dimly lit room. "Would you mind holdin' onto my hat for a moment?" Shaky hands took the offered hat with a nod. "Thank ya kindly."

"You're just a woman!" Willam exclaimed, "Ain't nobody gonna be scared of you!"

"Sir, did your momma ever tell you that you was real smart? I _know _what I am." She drew ivory pistols from holsters beneath her long coat, spinning them around with a flourish, tossing them into the air before catching them, a dangerous look in her eyes as she leveled them at Willam. "I also know I ain't from 'round here, but where I _am _from, forcing yourself upon a woman," the pistols lowered to his crotch, "is cause for immediate, on the spot, castration.

Willam visibly paled, all the blood in his body rushing towards his feet. "You wouldn't do that--"

"Naw, sir, I wouldn't." Her jaw tightened and he saw the restraint she was employing to keep from destroying his manhood. "Yet. I guess it's a good thing I got to you before ya did something stupid, wouldn't you think." She placed the guns back into place beneath the folds of her coat.

Willam looked around the room, seeing all the faces watching, knowing that beneath the puzzled and impressed expressions they held, they were all silently laughing at him for being shown up by some stranger woman. Anger simmered beneath the surface, but he knew better than to show it now, save it for later. "I reckon it's a good thing you did." He turned on his heel, exiting the saloon, plotting his revenge as he made his way down the dusty road

"Thank you…"

The drifter turned back to the blonde woman, her face pleasant but shielded. "Wasn't no trouble."

"Spencer. Spencer Carlin, that's my name I mean, I just…" she stopped talking, a slight blush tinting her features, wondering why this other woman unnerved her so. A small smile tugged at the corners of the drifter's mouth, before she took back her hat, settling it down on her head, pulled low so as to cover her eyes, with a nod of her head, she too left the saloon. Spencer stood there a moment, dazed as the noise within the room slowly returned to normal, before she made a decision, bounding through the front doors, nearly falling down the steps, her feet becoming tangled in her skirt. "Wait!" The other woman spun around, expressionless, and once again their eyes met. Spencer felt her breath catch in her throat, her hand flew to her chest as though she were trying to keep her heart from flying through. "Do you have somewhere to go? I mean, a place you can stay?"

"I'll be alright ma'am." She began to turn away again.

"I just want some way to repay you. I've got a small farm just outside of town."

"You got a farm?" Spencer was already falling in love with the gentle lilt in the other woman's speech, how she replaced all of her 'r's with soft 'h's. "You got any horses on this farm?"

Spencer was puzzled by the question and her face showed it. "Well, yes, yes I do."

An easy smile broke across the woman's face, a sunrise all her own. "Then I accept your offer, allowing me to stay tonight, but I need you to take in my horse, permanently, if that won't be to much trouble on you."

Spencer thought she'd agree to anything if it kept her in this woman's presence longer. "I'll take your horse, but why?"

She motioned with her hand, wanting Spencer to follow her to the horse, rubbing a hand down the mare's side once they were both standing next to her. She turned her gaze to Spencer, locking her in place. "The lady's old, and I ain't gonna put her down, but I want her to have a little taste of the easy life before she goes, not always dragging me along."

Spencer nodded gentle understanding. "She's beautiful, what's her name?"

A wry grin appeared on the brunette's face. "Jusgit."

Spencer frowned, "Jus…git…I'm not sure I understand."

"Ain't really that much _too _understand, 'cept that when I got her I didn't know a lick about riding horses, controlling them with your legs and all, and I'd just get frustrated and yell 'jus' git' trying to get the damned girl to move, and soon after that she started responding to 'jus' git' like it was her name. So that's what I call her now…Jusgit."

Spencer threw back her head in laughter, "You can't be serious."

"I am."

Wiping a few stray tears from her eyes, and calming herself, she shook her head as she stared at the woman in front of her, "Please tell me your name isn't as funny as that."

"Naw, I wouldn't think it'd be. Davies, well it ain't my first name, that's Ashley, but living the kinda life I do, you can't have people thinking you're soft just 'cause you got a girl name, so I go by Davies." Davies stopped talking then, scuffing her boot against the ground. "You cook good?"

"Never gotten any complaints. Matter of fact, I've got some beans, bacon, okra and cornbread I can whip you up at home."

"That sounds mighty fine. I ain't had no decent meal in awhile." She held out her hand, indicating that Spencer should lead the way, the thought of a belly full of warm food already making her stomach grumble.


	2. Haunted Memories

Davies' eyes widened as a steaming plate of food was placed before her. _I haven't seen this much food since…well, shoot, I can't remember when…_"This looks damned amazing," her mouth watered as the smell of the steaming cornbread and stewed okra practically overcame her senses, "I feel as though I should go ahead and apologize for my bad manners. It's usually just me out there, and Jusgit, ain't really got anybody to impress."

"You don't have to worry about impressing me," Spencer smiled softly as she sat down a platter of bacon wedges, "you did plenty of that earlier this afternoon. Go ahead," she pushed the plate towards her dinner companion, "enjoy."

"I don't want to be puttin' you out or anything," she glanced down at the food once more, fighting the urge to shove it all in her mouth in one heaping spoonful. _Nothing but hard tack and beef jerky on the road…_

"You're not putting me through any trouble, I promise," blonde hair fell over her face as she glanced down at her hands, "I hardly ever have company, so," she sighed, slightly embarrassed by her lonesome situation, "it would just please me to see you enjoying yourself. Relax, stranger, looks like the wilderness has been rough on you."

Brown eyes softened as they met the comforting blues practically begging her to take part of the offered hospitality, "Hasn't been too bad…just been travelin' since—" she broke off abruptly, grabbing the mug of ale to her right, downing it in three quick swallows.

"Since what?" Spencer leaned forward, waiting on an answer, and placed a hand over the clenched fist of her guest.

"I-I'd rather not speak on that," Davies ducked her head, and shoveled a mouthful of cornbread into her mouth, hoping that would deter any further questions, and felt an unexplainable wave of relief wash over her as the younger woman seemed to understand. It wasn't that she was trying to hide anything, quite the opposite in fact, she just wasn't one to openly share her feelings, preferring to keep them locked away where she could deal with them privately. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, "Logan, you would have been proud…"

"Logan?" Spencer cocked her head questioningly.

"Huh," she hadn't even realized she'd spoken out loud. _Ah damn, she's gonna think I'm crazy or something,_ "He's, well, he's my brother. _Was_ my brother anyway, lost him a few years ago," the lines around her mouth tightened as she remembered the last time she had heard his laugh, painful as it may have been, she clung to it as though it could offer some ethereal protection against the daily difficulties of her life:

"_Ma's gonna have our hides when we get home," Logan had glanced over at her, his eyes sparkling with the rush of adrenaline and excitement, "but I'll be damned if we don't have some incredible stories to tell."_

_She had caught his gaze, her eyes lighting up just as much as his, "Oh yeah, great stories, if we can get them out over all the cursing we're gon' hear." She pulled her musket closer, laying in wait in the high grass, senses alert to the encroaching presence of the Confederate soldiers, "Pa's gonna call us traitors, you know…" she whispered the words, knowing her brother's uncanny hearing would catch them before they were carried away by the wind._

_Logan shook his head, trying to toss his shaggy brown hair from his eyes, "rather be a traitor than a slave driver…it ain't right sis, and you know it, don't you?"_

_She wasn't sure what she believed on the issue either way. Her family _was_ cotton, and tobacco, had been growing the prized crops since long before she and her twin brother were born…and part of her couldn't see the point of the war. Yeah, the North wanted to prevent the expansion of slavery, the South wanted to ensure its spread, the slaves being the basic backbone of the society…but from a moral standpoint? She didn't care, just wanted her homestead in North Carolina to be safe. "You had to run away and fight for the yanks, didn't you?" She answered his question with one of her own._

"_And you just _had_ to follow," he winked at her, before placing a finger to his lips, "I think they're—" he never got to finish his sentence, as their world erupted into a deafening hail of gunfire and screams of men charging their ravine, "Sumbitch," Logan stood from his hiding spot, taking aim and firing, lifting one man clean from his feet with the force of the shot. His grey eyes widened in surprise at the fountain of blood that now began pooling from the man's wound. "I-I've never killed anyone before," he turned instantly haunted eyes to his sister._

"_Logan, get down," she made to move towards him, the urge to protect her younger brother of less than five minutes pounding through her veins, "Logan!" Her heart jumped into her throat as she lunged, uncoiling her body with a powerful motion, trying to get to him before the bearded Confederate who was reloading his weapon fired off his shot, his dark eyes menacing as he left no guessing as to his intended target. _

_His eyes locked onto hers, just as the ball round pierced his body, his legs immediately crumpling beneath him. An anguished howl rose into the air, and she didn't know if it were her, or her brother who cried out, or maybe them both, "Ashley" he looked up at her, fear stealing over his features causing him to look much younger than his twenty-three years, "I don't know if I'm ready to die."_

"_You ain't gon' die," _he can't…he can't leave me…_she knelt by his side, taking his hands and placing them atop of the open hole in his abdomen, "you just press down as hard as you can, okay? I'll take care of you…I always take care of you."_

_He just smiled sadly, the life in his moonlight eyes fading from him, "You sure do, sis," Logan reached a bloody hand up, grasping hers in a fierce grip that should have been impossible for his weakened state, "don' you come after me too soon, alright? You're…you're the best sister any guy…coulda had…"_

_Ashley stayed beside him, unwilling to believe that he was really gone from her, one minute he had been there, grinning at her with boyish excitement and the next…he had been snatched from her, plucked from the side of life with such ease it nearly made her sick to her stomach. "You." A simple word that whispered of death and torture, spoken for the benefit of the bearded man who had slain her brother, she rose to her feet, her eyes glinting dangerously as she pulled her hunting knife from its sheath. A rage unlike any she had ever known began to fill her, crashing over her body like thunderous waves against a rocky shore. There was no thought. Nothing went through her mind that would cause anyone to believe she had anything beyond fevered, animalistic, tendencies. She was nothing more, in that dark moment, than a predator stalking its marked prey. Her feet carried her forward, slowly at first, then at a frantic run, as she slashed through the ranks of the Confederate army, searching for the one that had taken her brother from her so soon, savoring the feel of the blade as it bit into the flesh of her adversaries, stabbing them with savage efficiency, until she stood before her target. Her chest heaved with the exertion of the fight, "He was my brother," she spat the words through clenched teeth, grabbing the man's collar, slamming him against a tree with more force than her slight frame should have allowed. "Do you have a family?"_

_He only stared blankly at her, the fear rolling off him in waves so strong she could almost smell it, felt it hovering in the air between them, as she pushed her face closer to his, grabbing his head and smashing it back into the trunk. "Answer me," the words hung with venomous intent, a small nod being his reply. "Do they love you?"_

_"Y-yes…" he swallowed hard, spittle flying from his lips as he tried to stop his shaking, "and I love them…v-very…v-very much."_

_Ashley's eyes narrowed, "good," she whispered the word into his ear as her blade drove up, piercing the vulnerable spot in his ribcage, finding its target, "you're the lucky one." She spun on her heel, leaving the knife buried up to the hilt, making her way slowly back to her brother's body, remembering from a childhood long past where his final resting place should be…_

"Davies?"

She jerked up, trying to ignore the cold sweat that had beaded on her forehead, "Oh…I'm mighty sorry ma'am…I think I need some fresh air." Davies stood, grabbing her holster from a hook on the wall, throwing her arms through before stepping out into the cool night air. _Jesus, I've got to stop doin' that. _She leaned against the porch railing, trying to force the memory of that day from her mind, a memory that stalked her relentlessly through her consciousness and startling her awake in the grip of night terrors when she was able to nod off. _I'm sorry Logan…so sorry, I know this ain't how you would have wanted me to be…_

"That's her," Her head snapped up at the voice, a grim foreboding washing over her as she took in the sight of William riding up the trail, two other men hot behind him, their horses kicking up dust, disturbing the otherwise peaceful night.

_Can't get a break…_she pulled her hat down low, obscuring her eyes from view and squared her shoulders, walking down the steps to stand in the middle of the yard, not flinching at they drove their horses towards her as though they had no intention of slowing. A small smirk curled her upper lip as she called their bluff, not the least surprised when William's mare reared to a stop in front of her. "Anything I can help you boys with tonight," she drawled out, flexing her fingers as she awaited a response.

"You can start by letting me finish what I started earlier," William sneered down at her, "and then maybe you and I could become good, good, friends."

"Ashley," Spencer stood on the porch, eyes wide at the scene before her.

The dark haired woman flicked her eyes towards the blonde, "Now, Ms. Carlin, I suspect it'd be best for you to gon' head and wait inside. I'll handle these ruffians," golden brown eyes stared unmoved at William, "you've got about two seconds to get your boys out of here, or somebody's gonna get hurt, and I guaran-damn-tee it ain't gonna be me."

"You talk big," William threw a glance towards the men who had rode in with him, and they all shared a small laugh, "but ain't nobody gon' be scared of a little git like you." He reached down with a large hand, as though to grab her hat from her head, only to find himself dumped unceremoniously from his horse by a move too quick for his slightly intoxicated state to follow.

"Now, I've tried to be nice," a dangerous smile etched its way over Davies' features, the hard glint making its way up to her eyes, "here are your options. You can either saddle on up, and get out of here," she drove her booted foot into his throat to emphasize her point, leveling the barrel of one of her guns on his face, "of I can find some coyote infested part of this damned wilderness to dump your remains. What's it gon' be?" She snarled, bending closer, releasing the safety latch with a satisfying click. Her face twisted, a dark laugh bubbling up from her throat, "Did you just piss yourself?" A quick glance to his trousers proved that he had, "unbelievable…get the hell out of here." She kicked at him roughly, more than a little ashamed at the sick satisfaction she felt deep within as she watched him stumble clumsily to his feet, "Y'all have a good night now, you hear?"

"Davies," Spencer rushed from the porch, "those men are dangerous," her brow creased in concern as she watched William scramble back into his saddle.

"They're just cowards," and the moment the words escaped her mouth she recognized her mistake. Remembered the lesson her father had given her years ago when she had suffered a gang beating after protecting her brother. Davies had tried to explain, through her tears, that they had attacked her from behind, and her father had gently told her, _'Cowards are the most dangerous enemy you could ever face. They're not like honorable men Ash, they won't accept defeat quietly…'_ She spun back around, placing herself solidly between Spencer, knowing it was too late to draw her gun, and closed her eyes against the coming pain, trying to will herself to keep her feet once the bullet came. Her eyes flew back open, locking onto William's just as his finger tightened on the trigger. The breath exploded from her lungs as the round made contact, lodging itself firmly above her heart, her vision swam and she shook her head clear, pushing back at the throbbing red slowly encroaching on her vision, "is that the best you got?" She took a menacing step forward, raising her arm with deadly stillness, aiming squarely for William's face. "Leave. Now."

"How…" his face paled under the glare the woman leveled at him from beneath the brim of her hat. He saw her finger slowly tightening on the trigger and decided this obviously wasn't the day to push his luck, spurring his horse past the two dumbfounded men who had rode silently in, and did the same in the opposite direction. The scared looks they threw over their shoulders would have been humorous if the dark haired stranger had been able to think clearly through the fog in her mind.

"Boil some rags," sweat broke out on her forehead, and she clenched her teeth against the pain, "you've got to get this outta me before infection sets in," she stumbled towards the steps, annoyed to find her energy rapidly depleting, "heat a hanger…cauterize…" she suddenly found herself unable to speak, her thoughts flowing together in a muddled mass as the world tilted unevenly in her vision. _Logan…_her last thought as the stars above blurred into a blinding, white light.


	3. BloodStained

"You've got to stay still, please…"

Davies groaned, "water…" she wanted nothing more than to wash the metallic taste of death from her mouth, finding it vulgar and offensive as it sat in the back of her throat, reminding her of how close she was to dying, to leaving the world before she had even had a chance to make amends for the horrible things she had done. She tried not to breathe too deeply as the cool liquid coarsed over her parched tongue, and let out a small sigh, "t-thank you." Her eyes opened slowly, blinking rapidly in the light of the fire, before she tried to push herself up. "Dammit," her teeth slammed together, and she fell back against the sweat drenched pillow, willing back the wave of nausea that threatened and pushed her to the edge of dry heaving.

"You need to rest, and I ain't gonna hear anything else about it," oceanic eyes stared worriedly down at the dark-haired woman who had quickly slumped back into the fevered nightmares that had plagued her for the past week, since she had been shot, "you've got to be okay. I don't really understand why, but you've got to…we're connected somehow."

"Logan," Davies,' golden brown eyes flew open, the fever blurring her vision, clouding her mind, "you're lookin' mighty good." Her mouth twitched up in a ghost of a smile, "you'll have to come visit me. Ain't gonna be pretty where I'm headed."

"I—" Spencer stopped short, confused, "it's me Davies. Spencer, remember?"

"I'm scared Logan," her voice dropped to a husky whisper, "I've done a lotta bad things. A lot of things you wouldn't be proud of, but you gotta promise to come see me. You just got too," tears began coursing their way down her face, disappearing without a trace on the sweat stained pillow, "I won't make it there if you don't."

"Okay," Spencer laid a cool hand against the other woman's forehead, willing the fever to break, knowing that if it didn't soon her new friend would lose her mind to the heat, or succumb to the darkness that waited in the room, like a chilling entity, to take what it believed belonged to it, "I'll come visit you, but you rest now."

She barely nodded before her eyes had slid back shut, her body slumping back into the bed. Her face twitched almost imperceptibly as a fresh sheen of sweat beaded around her hairline, trailing back through her hair. "S-so…sorry," she fumbled blindly for Spencer's hand and clung to it as though it were the only thing anchoring her in the world of the living, and perhaps, it was, and for the moment, the blonde let her be.

DA

"What the hell," Davies pushed herself up from the bed, looking wildly around trying to understand where she was, or how she had gotten there. A small house, with a fire blazing in its tiny hearth, the smell of cornbread hovered in the air, making her stomach issue a low grumble. "Nah, this ain't right," she felt the panic rising, still unsure of where she was, not knowing why she woke up in such a strange place, and that incessant throbbing…

"You're awake," a soft voice called from the doorway.

Davies spun on her heel, and drew a pistol shakily from the holster where it hung on the wall, leveling it with deadly intent at the figure that had just spoken, "you can either tell me who you are, or I can jus' go ahead and shoot. Dying people talk real fast."

"You'd really shoot me in my own home?" The person stepped the rest of the way in, struggling with an over full water pail.

"Ah, damn, I'm mighty sorry, I just—"

"Could you lower your weapon first?" Spencer poured the water into the giant kettle over the fire, before spinning back around, hands on her hips, and the slightest hint of irritation flashing in her deep blue eyes, "it's kinda hard to take anybody's apology serious if they can shoot you if you don't rightly feel like accepting it."

"Uh, sorry bout that," she lowered the gun, "need any help or somethin'? I'm pretty good at choppin stuff, like wood or uh—"

"Right, you can barely help yourself—"

"Now, you wait one damn minute, I am perfectly capable—"

"Look at your chest."

"What?"

"Look at your chest, Davies."

She glanced down, and bit back a curse as she saw the small blood stain spreading slowly over her shirt, "well, that don' prove I can't take care of my own self."

"Uh huh, come here," Spencer pulled the other woman close by the fire, and pushed her gently down into a chair, "it was time to change the bandage anyway," she grabbed a set of clean rags from the table, "I'm bout out of these, been boiling cloth for days."

"Days? How long was I out for?"

"Almost two weeks, your fever just broke a couple days ago," she tugged on the brunette's shirt, "you need to take this off."

"No."

"Look, I've already seen you without it on, did you think those bandages were magically changing themselves?"

"If you was a man, I'd—"

"Have already destroyed my manhood, I know. Off."

With a little grumbling she slowly pulled the shirt over her head, grimacing when the rapidly drying blood pulled at her wound, "how bad is it?"

"Not too terrible now…I…didn't think you were going to make it for awhile," soft blue eyes caught brown, the concern evident in the firelight, "you were just…it wasn't going well. It's not that I haven't had to deal with people dying but…not when I was trying so hard to keep them alive…"

"Thank you," the dark-haired woman felt her defenses drop, and was at once frightened and emboldened by this lapse, "you saved my life. I'm not right sure what I can do for you."

"Keep me company, until you're healed up," she wasn't sure what made her feel as though right now, kneeled before some complete stranger who had already proven to have more temper than her body knew what to do with, made her feel safer than at any other time in her life, "it's real quiet around here."

"I may be able to handle that," a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, "not like I got much a choice, can't protect myself too well out there right now.

Spencer didn't respond, too busy pulling away the bloodstained bandage wrapped around the other's shoulder, and over what had been a gaping wound on her chest, her brow furrowed as she gently wiped a damp cloth around the swollen flesh, and for the first time, Davies noticed the blood that stained the blonde's fingers, and felt her breath catch in her throat, remembering when her hands had been covered with the same blood that flowed through her veins.

"Logan would have liked you…you got a good heart. I can tell that."

"Are you ever gonna tell me who—"

"Kick the damned door down," a deep voice bellowed from outside, "we're gon' take care of this little bitch for good." The sound of several males laughing outside flooded through the room as the door crashed to the floor.

"You got to be joking," Davies ran towards her holsters, throwing them over her undershirt, ignoring the pain that pulsed out through her chest, spreading and lighting her nerves on fire, "William, you got to be the dumbest beast I ever seen."

"This wouldn't have been a problem, but you had to go interferin' and makin me look bad. Don't nobody do that to me."

"Spencer, you stay behind me, alright," her eyes narrowed and she felt her jaw clenching, "looks like I'm bout to earn my keep here. Why don't we take this on outside, cause I'd sure hate to be cleanin your blood out of this wood floor." She grabbed her hat from the table, and placed it on her head, pulling it down so it shielded her eyes, hearing her father whispering in her ear from miles away about how the body could lie, but the eyes, they told a person's true intent. "Move," Davies pushed roughly passed the men, and stalked down the front steps before spinning back around, "what you waitin for, you yellow-backed coward, there's plenty of room out here for you all to die comfortably."

"Or maybe there's just enough room for me to spread you to pieces all over this here land." William thumped down the steps, brushing his men aside, "I can handle this one on my own."

"Ashley, please!" Spencer stood on the porch, face pale as she silently begged the woman to back down.

"Miss, you can either be quiet, or go back inside, but this," she rolled her shoulders and pulled her hands even with the guns resting on her hips, "is gon' have to happen."

"Ashley, he could kill you."

"The only way that's goin to happen, is if you stand there distracting me," she lifted the brim of her hat, and winked over at the blonde, "I promise you, he ain't gonna best me. After you William," she pulled the hat back down, and turned her attention to the brute who stood, surprisingly sober, a few feet away, and swept her arm gallantly before her, giving a little nod, "how soon would you like to die?"

"Boys," at his word, the two men behind him grabbed Spencer, a knife caught the sun for a brief moment before it was placed to her throat, nicking the skin just enough for her to know they were serious.

"You either let her go, or I swear by everything I know, every last one of you is gonna be six feet under by nightfall."

"Funny time for you to be making demands," William looped his thumbs through his belt loops, a lecherous grin on his face, "all you got to do is let me and my boys have a little fun."

"One…" she reached instinctively for the giant blade she kept tucked away behind her right gun holster, forcing herself to focus and find energy when the only thing she wanted to do was sink into the earth and rest, "two…"

"Oh, I supposed to be scared?"

"…three," she didn't speak, didn't think, but felt her body propelling itself forward, oblivious to the pain that begged her to stop, moving with the savage intensity of a predator focused on only one thing. William's eyes widened just before he felt the bite of the knife on his neck, felt the warm flow of blood as it began coursing down his chest, and collapsed to his knees. She kept moving, feeling herself being pulled back into another time, another place, when she ran wild like this with another, with someone who understood her and looked to her for protection too, "Do you think," the guns spun in the air, and came to a rest in her outstretched hands, the barrels leveled with the two men, "you can kill her before I kill you," her voice rumbled menacingly, dark eyes flashed, "or that I won't kill you if you hurt her? Cause if you be betting men, I'd say it's time for you to throw the dice."

The one holding Spencer visibly paled, "I…my ma always told me not to gamble, this ain't worth it," the blonde shot an elbow back, and pushed off to stand behind Davies, "you won't hear nothing from us no more. I swear it." He stumbled from the porch, dragging the other man with him.

"Before you go," she pointed to the still dying William as he lay choking in the scorching sun, "you take that with you." Davies watched as they saddled their horses, their leader thrown haphazardly over the third horse's back, watched as they thundered down the trail and disappeared on the horizon, before she sank back against the blonde woman behind her, "if you could just give me a minute…"

"I can give you all the time in the world, if you'd let me."

Davies pulled her hat from her head, grateful for the small breeze that picked up, cooling her as she waited for the pain to pass, drying the blood that covered her hands, "alright," she looked back up into the eyes of the woman who had held her life in her own hands for weeks and felt for a moment that she would give her anything, felt the fear that came along with that notion, but was too tired to fight, "alright."


	4. Secrets

Davies collapsed into the chair near the fire, and kicked off her boots, wiggling her toes like a small child and letting out a relaxed sigh. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so calm, so completely at ease. The weeks seemed to have disappeared and ended just as soon as they began. It pained her to know that it wasn't anything that she could hang on to for long. Trouble seemed to have picked up her scent long ago, and hounded her relentlessly wherever she went, and she knew the longer she stayed, the greater the chance that it would eventually find her and she couldn't allow herself to bring any darkness into the blonde woman's life. For now though, she could enjoy it…

"Ashley, a little help?"

"Davies, it's Davies," she stood from the chair and walked towards Spencer, taking the bundle of vegetables from her arms, "how many times I got to tell you. You can't run around calling me that. It'll get me killed," even as she scolded her, she couldn't keep the amusement from spilling over into her voice, "what the hell are all these for anyway?"

"I can't keep stuffing you full of cornbread and meat," she poked Davies in the ribs, eyebrow raised mockingly, "not if you plan on wearing those clothes in a month."

"Now you listen," she dropped the vegetables onto the table and spun around, putting on her best menacing face, "are you tryin to insult me? Cause that's a dangerous thing to do."

"Oh, no, no insult, you help me out a lot around here. I'd never dream of it. You're carrying more than your share of weight," the sunlight streaming through the window caught the laughter in the blonde's eyes before she was fully turned around, "more than enough."

"That's right." Davies nodded her head satisfied, "and don't you—" her eyes narrowed as they focused on Spencer's shaking shoulders, "you were mocking me. Don't nobody mock me."

"Right, cause you're oh so terribly dangerous and moody," she held out her hand, "pass me that knife by the basin, would you, or you're gonna be eating hay out there with Jusgit. These carrots aren't going to chop themselves."

"I'm not moody," she glowered, ignored the request, snatched her hat from the hook on the wall, and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Spencer turned, running a hand through her hair, a questioning look on her face.

"Somewhere I can get away from your naggin."

"Excuse me," she stalked across the floor, "did you say I was nagging you? You, the person that's squatting injured in _my_ house, while I take care of _you _and _your_ horse? I'm nagging when I ask you to help me?"

"I thought I'd already helped you," the brunette slammed her feet into her boots, and threw her long overcoat over her body, "it ain't like I nearly _died_ or anything. It ain't like I added another murder to my long and _moody_ list of lives taken. Nah. I'm not helping. People like you never get it."

"Get what," she jabbed a finger into the leather covered chest, "that you can't take a joke? Stop walking around here so angry. You gotta laugh Ashley, if you don't, you're gonna die inside. It's the simple things."

"I ain't got time for the simple things. Life isn't easy, alright? I kill people. I kill people so they don't kill me, and one day, someone is gonna be better and I don't think you understand," her jaw clenched and she turned her back to Spencer, throwing over her shoulder before she left, "you don't understand how much I want someone to finally be better. To be faster, or stronger, to help me let this go."

"I—where," she hung her head, blue eyes turned downward, "I just don't understand _you_," she whispered at the retreating form, "I don't know where any of this even came from."

DA

"I'm such a dumbass," Davies pushed open the barn door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light, before heading towards her horse, "how 'bout it? Feel like carrying me around for a bit?" Justgit turned sleepy eyes towards her, as though asking what choice she had in the matter. "Always a smart ass…" she turned to get the saddle, then thought better of it, "I bet you'd rather not have that extra gear," she ran a hand down the mare's side, and shook her head ruefully, "Spencer was right, you're gonna have enough trouble just bearing me. C'mon," she tangled her hand in the mane on the mare's neck and nudged her gently towards the barn door before vaulting on top, ignoring the pulling pain in her shoulder. "Let's get out of here," and with a wild yell, the horse took off, galloping across the open fields, and for a moment she forgot the stupid fight from earlier.

She had always loved horses, always loved the freedom she felt when she was racing across the land, as though nothing could touch her, almost as though she were completely invincible.

"_You've gotta do something sis," Logan turned in his saddle, his grey eyes boring into hers with painful sincerity, "what you said really hurt ma, and Ash," he reached across the gap that separated them and took her hand, forcing her to really listen to him, "you gotta make it right. She's still in there crying."_

_ "I don't know why you're always expecting me to fix things," she broke eye contact, and stared down at her hands, her mocha hair falling forward and shielding her face from him. He always did that, always called her on everything, never let her just be._

_ "You only gotta fix things that you break," a smile slowly started spreading across his face, "like that time you stepped on my stick man and you spent all day tryin to put that damn thing back together."_

_ "You wouldn't stop cryin! I had to try, not like you gave me much choice," she glared over at him, her horse stepping nervously, picking up the anger of its rider._

_ "Exactly, you gotta try, sis, otherwise," he pointed in the direction of their home, "she ain't never gonna stop droppin buckets of water in there."_

_ "You're infuriatin', you know that, just so damn—"_

_ "Race you."_

_ "…annoying and—you don't wanna race me Logan. You can't act like you forgot how I whipped you just last week and how about—"her mouth fell open as a cloud of dirt was kicked up in her direction, the backside of her brother and his horse rapidly disappearing around the bend, "you damn cheat!"_

_ "Keep up, Ash!" Logan shouted back over his shoulder, laughing at the expression on his twin's face, knowing she couldn't hold back for long, and he was right, he heard her loud cry as she spurred her horse forward, and couldn't help looking when he felt her match even, the light in her brown eyes shining with amusement._

_ "Thought you could just leave me, huh?"_

_ "Never, sis…never…"_

Ashley drew Jusgit to a stop and hung her head, swiping angrily at tears before turning bleary eyes toward the sky, "you always gotta be right, don't you?" She climbed from the horse and began a slow walk into the woods, hand lingering near one of her guns, "make it right. Okay then…that I can do…"

DA

Spencer brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, accidentally smudging flour across her cheek as she did so, glad that she had, for the moment at least, stopped crying. "Not like it matters," she kneaded the dough roughly, not caring that it was going to make the biscuits tough, "I hope they come out tastin' like cow bricks." She shoved the biscuits onto the hearth and covered them with a towel, waiting for them to rise, before collapsing down into the chair near the now dead fire. Her eyes scanned the room, and landed on the shirt she had cut from Davies the night she had been shot, hanging from the mantel. Though she'd washed away the blood as best she could, she hadn't had time to repair it. She fingered the fabric, and let out a small sigh, momentarily reliving the terror that had gripped her when the woman had collapsed into her arms, as though her world had stopped moving, as though the sun had set with no promises of rising the next morning, and she still didn't know why it had mattered that she lived, or why she was afraid to now think about her life without someone who was still a virtual stranger. But it had, and she was. She pulled the shirt into her lap, "might as well stitch the darned thing back together…"

DA

"Oh no you don't," Davies threw her hat away, and wiped her bangs from her eyes, making a mental note to take a pair of scissors to them later, "it's you and me, and you, little man, are going to help me fix this here mess."

The rabbit stared at her in wide eyed terror, its nose twitching frantically, trying to determine its best course of action, unsure of what predator stood before it. Really, maybe it should have stayed in its burrow, in the darkness and security it provided instead of wandering out into the cooling evening air.

"Don't you move one damned hair," she crept forward slowly, tossing her knife from hand to hand, knowing that if she didn't make a decision quickly, the animal was going to go bounding off into the woods and there'd be next no way to catch it, she glanced at the knife, and let it fall to the ground, not sure she wanted to accidentally stab herself while trying capture the rabbit that was still staring nervously at her, muscles tensed and ready to sprint away. "Look here rabbit, I got a lady who's real mad at me, and if you wanna do me any good, you'll just stay there and die."

A snort sounded from her left shoulder, her horse had cantered into the clearing, and the rabbit, deciding it'd been traumatized enough, bolted. Davies let out a curse and took off after it, "blasted horse, I swear she did it on—" her words choked in the back of her throat, turning into a cry of surprise as she felt herself hurdling towards the ground, where she landed with a slightly humorous thud. Jusgit snorted again, and for a second, she could have sworn she heard the faraway sound of her brother laughing.

DA

"Will this fix things?"

Spencer jumped from the chair where she'd fallen asleep, and spun on her heel, heart hammering in her chest, not having heard the door open, "I…w-what?"

Davies stepped fully into the room, holding a dead rabbit by its hind legs, a scowl etched onto her face, "This, uh, this rabbit here. Will it make things right?"

The blonde bit her bottom lip, and shook her head slightly, her shoulders heaved and tears began rolling completely unchecked down her face.

"Oh, shoot, I didn't want for you to…I mean, why are you cryin?"

"I-I'm not crying," she bent over, laughing so hard it practically hurt, "I'm just, you're just—"

"I'm just what?" She asked the question slowly, the scowl on her face deepening.

"You just look like you've been pig wrestling!"

"Well, I mean, this damn rabbit was quick, alright, an' I-I fell, cause that blasted horse spooked this thing," she shook the rabbit for emphasis, "and it took off runnin into the woods and when I tried to chase it…I kinda fell."

"You fell?"

"Yeah, I already said that, woman," she hung her hat on the hook by the door, it was the one and only thing she was currently wearing that wasn't adorned with a conspicuous pattern of brown mud and red clay, "it's just," she thrust the rabbit out, "I'm tryin to say sorry for acting like such an ass today. Alright? So here, take this darn thing and do—do whatever it is you do to make 'em good."

Spencer walked forward, slowly lowering the outstretched hand that clasped part of their dinner, and smiled up into the stern brown eyes of a woman who was nothing but surprises, "thank you," she placed her hand against Davies' mud splattered cheek and felt the blood rush to her face when the other woman let out a small sigh before leaning into the touch, her eyes becoming slightly hooded.

"You're welcome," her voice came out low and husky, and her eyes slid shut completely, the tension of the day seeping away from her body.

"Um," Spencer cleared her throat, and stepped away, felt her breath catch in her throat as the chocolate eyes locked onto hers, "you should probably get cleaned up…it's uh, gonna take me awhile to get this cleaned." She took the rabbit, and felt her face flush as their fingers brushed.

"Right," Davies shook her head, her bangs flopping back into her eyes, casting her face in a slight shadow, "that's a good, ah, real good idea." She stepped back as though pulling herself from a trance, and headed for the wash basin in the corner.

"I stitched your shirt, and there are some clean pants folded on the bed."

"You fixed my shirt?"

"Of course, what else would I have done with it?"

She frowned, as though actually trying to answer the question, "and the pants, where did you…?"

"They belonged to an old friend," her voice dropped to a whisper, "I'd rather not talk about it right now…if that's okay."

"Looks like we've both got our secrets."

"Looks like it…"


	5. Charges

"Ashley," Spencer nudged the sleeping woman by the fire.

"W-what," she scrambled to her feet, looking wildly around, and staggered sleepily towards her guns where they hung on a hook, "who's here. What's wrong?" Her hair clung to the side of her face, her eyes unfocused as she searched frantically for any sign of danger.

"Everything's okay," she walked closer, placing a gentle hand on the woman's arm, "I was just trying to see if you'd rather sleep in the bed. I got some things to do around here, and…I'm up is all and you can have the bed. Just cause you're not almost dead doesn't mean you have to sleep on the floor."

"Huh," she wiped her bangs away, her brown eyes slowly focusing on the face in front of her, "oh, no that's okay," comprehension slowly dawned on her face, and the anxious tension drained away, "me and Jusgit will be fine in the barn. 'Sides, I gotta get into town. Need supplies…"

"What do you mean?"

"Just, I'm gonna need more hard tack, jerky, bullets, when I leave. I can't go out there with nothing. Shoot, woman, you trying to make sure I die or something?"

"I just didn't realize you were going to be leaving so soon."

Davies laughed as she raised her arms above her head in a stretch, "you didn't think I could just Indian squat here forever, did you?"

"Not really," Spencer clasped her hands in front of her, looking everywhere but into the dark brown eyes that were attempting to gain her attention, "it's fine."

"Naw, now don't be like that," she placed a calloused hand on the blonde's shoulder, "I really do…I ain't good with my words. You saved my life, so, I owe you pretty big…it's just that it's hard for me not to get into trouble. My brother used to say it was my middle name and I-I ain't tryin to bring nothin' bad here, where it can get you." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug,  
"you're too good a person to have to deal with it."

"I can handle more than you think," she lifted her head, her jaw set, "I handled you didn't I? I kept you alive, so I think I can handle whatever might show up in our life."

"_Our_ life," Davies frowned, "I barely—"

"Forget it, alright?" She turned, pretending to busy herself with the fire, looked around for more wood to throw in, and saw that they were nearly out, "I gotta go chop more wood."

"Let me handle it," she was looking for any excuse to leave the room, to get away from those eyes that seemed to see right through her, leaving her feeling exposed in a way she hadn't since grey eyes the shade of moonlight had slid shut years before, and she wasn't sure if she liked it, didn't know if she could even handle it, "I need the air anyway." She sat at the table, and slid her feet into her boots, busying herself with pulling the pants back around them when she felt the hand on her head, fingers running through her hair, and sighed.

"You might want this," Spencer held out Davies' hat, a smile on her face before she placed it on the dark-haired woman's head, "the sun can hard on a person, even early."

"T-thanks," she tried to ignore how nice the contact had felt as she stood and headed towards the door, "how much you think you need?"

"As much as you can give me."

"I uh," she swallowed hard, and pulled her hat down to shield her eyes, she didn't think she could handle the look on the blonde's face, couldn't understand why she only had the urge to bury her face in the golden hair that cascaded over her shoulders, "I meant, how much wood are you thinkin you're gonna need for winter? I'm thinkin you'd need a lot, so you wouldn't have to spend so much time in the cold."

"Oh," her face darkened into a deep shade of red, "just however much you feel like chopping."

"Right," she nodded, and left.

DA

"This is getting out of control," Davies sat another block up wood up, and took another step back before bringing the axe down, splitting it neatly in two, and tossing them over into the pile that now stood halfway up the side of the house, "rate I'm goin here, whole damn forest if bound to be gone by lunch." She didn't know what to do, and it was always times like these that she missed her brother the most. _I'm the hot head_…and felt herself growing angry at having been left alone, at having not been taken along with him. _I'm barely livin'…I done practically forgot how to talk to people and Spencer…_ "Dammit to hell," another block fell apart, and she let the axe fall from her hand, "what am I supposed to do?" She whispered to no one, but hoping that someone would provide the answer. She pulled her hat from her head, and her auburn ponytail fell free as she wiped her forehead down with her shirt sleeve, "I can't think right…damn woman got me actin' crazy."

"I don't know much, Ashley, but I do know that talkin to yourself isn't actually a good thing."

She spun around, to find the blonde standing with a tin cup of water and a hunk of cheese, a slight smile on her face, "what have I told you bout calling me Ashley? You're—"

"Gonna get you killed, I remember," she laughed softly, the afternoon sun making her eyes seem a brighter shade of blue, "and you gotta eat something or you're gonna pass out."

"I'll have you know I'm—"

"Quite capable of taking care of yourself, and if was a man, you'd have already destroyed my manhood," she cocked her head to the side, her voice teasing, "any more idle threats you'd like to make?"

"Naw, I figure you bout covered them all," she took the water, grateful as it cooled her parched throat, before pouring the rest over her head, and shaking like a dog.

"Hey," Spencer jumped back, but not fast enough to prevent herself from being lightly doused by a shower of water, "a little warning next time?"

"Of course princess," she beamed, and rolled her shoulders, "whatever you say. I'm fixin to go on into town, if you'd like to join me." Spencer crinkled her nose, and Davies couldn't help noticing the freckles that danced across her skin like a constellation of brown stars, "that's cute."

"What is?"

"Oh, n-nothing," the brunette cleared her throat, "you thinkin bout walking or ridin? Cause Jusgit can get us there before noon."

"Actually, I think I'll just stay here and uh, do something around…maybe fix a loose fence pole…"

"I can fix the damned pole if you want, won't take me no time," Davies began walking towards the barn, "I'm thinkin we take the horse, don't rightly feel like walking right now."

"I can't ride," Spencer blurted, a sheepish grin on her face.

"That a joke or something? How you not goin to know how to ride? What would you do if the Indians came raiding? _Run_? You wear skirts and you'd trip or something and I ain't having you getting scalped cause of no damned skirt and cause you can't ride no horse. I can wait to get my supplies tomorrow."

Spencer smiled, grateful the woman would stick around for another day at least, "that would be wonderful."

"Good, cause I'm bout to teach you to ride."

Her face fell.

DA

"Don't do that," Davies yelled, waving her hands around causing her to look as though she were swatting at an angry cloud of bees, "you're jus' makin her mad! Can't you _see_ the look on her face?" She hurtled the fence and ran up to Spencer who sat on top of Jusgit, her face deathly white, blue eyes as wide as Jusgit's, and both of them shot her annoyed, angry looks.

"I can't see much of anything up here."

"What're you talking about? You can see damned near everything from atop a horse," Davies grabbed the reins, and rolled her eyes as Jusgit glared at her.

"I-I had my eyes closed."

"You what," she deadpanned, "how the hell you supposed to ride this animal with your eyes shut?"

"I'm scared, alright?" Her voice shook, and she made to climb down.

"Uh, uh, I can't let you just quit now. You'll never get back up there," she vaulted up, landed behind Spencer, and shook her head to clear her thoughts as she felt the younger woman lean instinctively back against her, "I'll just show you, now grab the reins," she placed her hands over the smaller ones, tightening her grip a little to stop their shaking, "you're gon' be fine."

"Okay," Spencer relaxed, feeling secure in the arms of the woman who was slowly becoming less of a stranger, and more of a friend.

"Now, don' pull so hard, cause it hurts her, and I can promise, if you hurt her, she ain't gonna like you. She threw me the first time I put a bridle on her."

"Really," she let some slack flow through her fingers, "I can't imagine anything not wanting to be under you."

_This woman is gonna be the damned death of me_…"uhm," she cleared her throat, "I-it's really not that hard once you get the hang of it."

"Not many things in life are that hard, when you get right down to it," she looked back, and felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest as she caught sight of the look in the brown eyes that locked onto hers, and was grateful she was sitting on the horse, because she was fairly certain her legs wouldn't have supported her.

"Maybe," Davies smirked, her voice low, "maybe not."

"Excuse me," both of the women jumped, and tried to create as much distance between themselves as possible when riding a horse, before turning towards the person who had spoken, "either of you a Davies."

Davies slid from the horse, and walked towards the stranger, her jaw clenching once she saw the starred badge on his jacket, "all depends on who's asking."

"I'm asking," his eyes flicked to the woman still on the horse, "are you him?"

"I'm _her_. Why?"

"You're going to come with me then."

"I don't rightly see myself goin nowhere, and I don't feel like you're gonna make me," her eyes snapped and narrowed.

"I think you will," he moved his jacket just enough for her to catch sight of his gun, and remember that all of her weapons were in the house, "cause you're about to be tried for murder."


	6. Life or Death

"Ashley, you've got to try to defend yourself," Spencer stood outside the barred door that led into the cell where her friend sat, not so much looking defeated but more resigned to her fate than the blonde cared to see her, "doesn't it matter to you that you didn't do anything wrong? Isn't that important?"

Davies looked up, her face taut with worry, lines drawn around her mouth and shrugged, "if they don't get me for this, they'll just find some other reason to have me lynched." Her head fell back against the rough stone of her prison, and she knew she should feel something, should care that they planned to hang her with the sunrise, but couldn't. If she cared it meant that she wanted to live, and who could face death while life struggled to burst free? _I'm not that strong…_

"Ashley, please," the blonde stepped closer, her fingers wrapped tightly around the bars until her knuckles grew white, sapphire eyes brightened as they began to slowly fill with tears, "this is wrong. All you did was save me…"

"Maybe this time, this time, it's wrong, but there have been times before. Times when if they had caught me, if I hadn't run like some coward, it have ended just like this. Ain't no use fighting it," she stared down at her hands, flexed them, watched the muscle and sinew shift beneath her skin, wondered if she'd be able to feel anything where she went next, "life has a funny way of balancing things out."

"But you were sent here to balance _my_ life out," Spencer slammed her hand against the door causing the dark-haired woman to jump, "I know you were, you were sent for _me_ and you're just going to let them take you away…just like that…"

Davies scrambled to her feet and hurried towards her friend, took her hand through the bars, "you'd have been real good for me," a sad half-smile came across her face, "if I wasn't such an idiot. You'd have done me good," she raised the hand to her lips, placing a small kiss on it, marveling even at this moment, how soft it felt in hers, "but I _am_ an idiot. Just don't—don't think any of this was your fault. Even if I'd know then how it would all turn out, I'd still have shot that drunken bastard." She dropped Spencer's hand and took a step back, the shadows within her cell enveloping her, "I got family in North Carolina. Isaiah and Martha Davies, you tell 'em bout what happened, would you?"

"Ashley," she reached out, pleading, the tears running freely now, "don't be like this. Don't…did I save you for nothing?" she shook on the door, screaming, her eyes narrowed to slits, "you thank me by dying? You come into my life. I save you, and you give up…you just let them take you from me? No. Do you hear me," her voice grew louder, "I'm saying no. Not like this."

Davies turned her back, felt her heart breaking all over again and reached deep into herself, summoning the strength she would need to do what she felt was the right thing, "what more do you want from me. I got nothing to give you. Nothin to give to anyone, you should go," the words were cold, harsh, in the rapidly darkening room, "go find somebody else to cling to, cause I'm bout to be gone." She willed herself to remain standing as the sharp gasp reached her ears, as she heard the sobs that came forth from the other woman, willed herself to remain standing as she heard the footfalls hurrying away before she sank to the floor and cried.

DA

"Do you understand the charges against you?" The sheriff asked gruffly, his tiny eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

Davies scanned the crowd before her, looked down upon them from her place on the scaffold and struggled to find the words to speak, "I do," her voice was strained, and for some reason she had always felt she'd have more strength when it was finally time for her to die, but at this moment, it was the last thing she had. _Just be quick. God, just let it be quick_. The rope that bound her hands together bit roughly into her skin, chaffing it raw, and she could already imagine it around her neck, pulling tight, cutting off her air. _She's not here…better that she's not_. The people who had showed for the execution were strangely silent and deep down she knew it was because they were on her side. They knew what kind of man William had been, and none of them were sad to see him go. Her glance flicked quickly to the left, and she felt the breath catch in her throat, her knees buckled slightly, the only thing that kept her from crashing to the ground was the steadying hand of her executioner. She had seen it though, the flash of grey, the jaw-line of her brother. _He's here…he came for me._ The wind picked up, whipping her dark hair around her face, slightly obscuring her view. _It's alright. I've dealt with worse_. Her back straightened, her eyes turned steely, and she waited.

"You got anything you'd like to say?" The sheriff stepped closer, his face not unkind, "I'm sorry…I'm just trying to do my job…" he whispered only loud enough for her to hear.

"Your job is to make sure justice is carried out. I'm thinkin' that you've failed mighty hard."

His face hardened, and he turned back to the crowd, "the prisoner has nothing further to say."

"I got something to say," a stranger called from the crowd, pushing his way through to stand at the steps that led up to Davies, he looked questioningly to the sheriff, waiting on permission before ascending them to stand next to the brunette, "life has a way of balancing things out," his voice shook slightly and caught the confused browns as comprehension slowly began dawning over her features, "sometimes though, sometimes, you've got to balance them out yourself." Hands disappeared beneath the full length coat, before reappearing clutching two pistols, one aimed at the so-called town law, the other at the executioner, "let her go."

The townspeople let out a collective gasp, but no one made a move as the sheriff's face began to pale so quickly it was a miracle he didn't pass out, he stood watching the other, waiting for any sign of weakness, any opening and finding none, nodded to the man standing beside Davies, "cut her loose."

Davies rubbed her wrists as the rope fell away and stepped closer to her strange savior, "what the hell?"

"Ashley," blue eyes winked from beneath the brim of the hat, a stray golden hair hung down past a cheek, "I don't know if this is the right time for a conversation like this."

"Do you know what you've done?"

"Davies," Spencer snapped, "shut up and let's go." She began slowly descending the stairs, worried more about the two men before her than the people who stood behind her, making her way towards Jusgit who was tethered just outside the town jail. Davies sprinted past her, vaulting up onto the horse before offering her hand down.

"Can't have you looking dumb after all that, can we?" She asked, taking the guns from her rescuer and pulling her up, offered a mocking salute to the men and women still watching in awe, then turned her horse and galloped out of town, unable to keep the laugh from bursting forth from her throat. "I don't think you rightly know what you've gotten yourself into."

"Oh," the blonde removed the hat on her head, and placed it on its owner, "I think I do," she shot a wistful glance towards her home as they raced past it, "this place was getting too small for me anyway…"

DA

"You mind if I ask you something," Davies leaned forward, her face flickering in and out of shadows, danced lightly upon by darkness beaten back by the fire, the ebb and flow of light and nothing, "why'd you do that? Why'd you come for me?"

Spencer stood and walked around the fire, sitting down next to the dark-haired woman, and couldn't resist laying her head against the shoulder that seemed to be there just for her, "because, I couldn't just let you go like that."

"You barely know me. You done made yourself an outlaw for somebody you don't even know."

"I know that you risked your life for me," she reached out and took hold of the hand that lay clenched in Davies' lap, twining her fingers in other's, expecting her to pull away, "and I know people who are bad, don't do things like that. They don't fight for someone they barely know. You did that for me."

Davies didn't say anything, just breathed deeply, the sounds of the night floating across the small clearing they had found after riding hard for the entire day. "I was supposed to be dead right now. He was there today…"

"Who?"

"Logan, I know I saw him," her voice cracked, eyes burned with unshed tears, and she swallowed hard, batting the emotions down, pushing them away, "I just know I did."

"Ashley, who's Logan?"

"He's my…he _was _my brother…he's dead now…it's been bout three years," she raised her head and stared into the cloudless night sky, wondering what was out there, where he was, if he really had been there today, "when the war broke out he was so worked up. Actually thought he could do some good up there for the yanks, and he jus' he took off…and I went after him," her head fell against her chest and this time she didn't try to hold back the tears, felt them burning hot down her cheeks, "we signed up, and he helped me disguise myself cause they ain't want no women, but I couldn't just let them have my baby brother. I couldn't—"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Spencer sat up, "it's just you always said his name when you were sleepin and I just wondered."

"It's alright. Ain't like you knew or anything," she wiped angrily at her face, "how bout we just get some sleep? It's gon' be rough tonight cause we gotta sleep on the ground with no blankets, but—"

"Can I sleep next to you?"

Davies looked over quickly, saw the blue eyes staring intently at her, and wondered if she could ever deny Spencer anything, "sure…"

___________________

I was asked where I'm from, so, I'm from the U.S. by way of North Carolina. The buckle on that great Bible belt....


End file.

South of Nowhere, Adventure, Romance