I panted heavily under the blisterin' Arizona sun. Sweat was drippin' down my skin in waves an' the wide brim of my hat did little t' cool me down.

Pullin' my windswept brown hair into a bun, I tucked it under the hat, then stuck it right back onto my head.

Exhaling deeply, I stopped my task an' rolled up my denim sleeves above my elbows before goin' right back t' work.

If mama were here she would call me "indecent", showin' my legs like I was in my knee length skirt an' my cleavage peakin' outta my shirt, but she wasn't here and I was hot.

My arms were aching an' after a few more minutes I stopped an' stepped back t' look at my hard work.

Before me was a water pump an' beneath it a bucket that was only about half full of warm, dusty lookin' water.

"Shoot..." I cursed. That was nearly three hours work right there. "This drought'll be the death of us."

With a sigh I grabbed the bucket an' began t' make my way back across the small stretch of desert that separated the well from the rest of my family's ranch.

I was greeted by thunderin' hoofbeets on dusty ground as Charlotte came t' meet me.

Charlotte was the name I had given my horse. She was a beautiful brown and white dappled mare, though lately her hide was losin' it's luster an' even though I gave most of my provisions to her, you could already start seein' her ribs.

"Hey baby girl, how ya doin'?" I smiled, rubbin' her nose as she came to a halt in front of me. Immediately her head dipped t' the bucket in my hands.

I let her have a long drink before I took the stale water away.

"I know you're thirsty, but you gotta leave me some too, girl." I laughed at her attempts t' get the rest of the water, but the reality of the situation was grim.

My older brother Clyde left the ranch with my mama an' my three little triplet brothers, Eric, Mikey, and Vinnie about a year ago in order t' go look for better land an' work down in Texas. They took most'a the cattle too.

Me? I stayed right here in Arizona with my horse, one old cow an' her calf, a hen, an' the ranch my papa had built for mama with his own two hands.

It was small, but special, with a wraparound porch and a swingin' bench by the front door. There was supposed t' be an upstairs for us kids, but papa died before he could make it.

The year had been 1865. Papa was fightin' for the Union even though we lived in Confederate territory. He died in the war. Clyde was seven, mama was pregnant with the triplets, an' I was only three years old.

That was a long time ago, though. The current year was 1885. I was twenty-three years of age an' takin' care of the ranch all my own. The work was hard, but I liked it.

Settin' down the bucket'a water on the porch, I removed my hat an' followed Charlotte's lead, dunkin' my face in t' take a good, long drink.

It tasted like rust.

I sighed and slicked my wet hair back, fealin' my stomach growl for something more than just water.

"C'mon, Charlotte." I called t' my horse. "We're goin' t' town."

☆☆☆

Walkin' into the town's saloon was eventful t' say the least.

A tall blonde man lookin' positively green ran outta the swingin' doors an' bumped into my shoulder before collapsin' on the dusty ground an' vomiting up whatever was makin' him sick.

I sighed an' shook my head. Men an' their liquor...

"Hey Joe!" I called out, wavin' t' the bartender as I sauntered into the place.

The potbellied man looked up from behind the bar an' grinned, givin' an eyeful of rottin' brown teeth. "Well I'll be damned, Nevada Tilly! Why, it's been ages since I last seen ya! Where ya been hidin', girlie?"

I grinned an' sat down at the bar, earnin' myself strange looks from every giant gunslinger n' cowboy in the place. It was rare for a young, small lady t' enter a saloon alone, ya know?

"So what can I do for Clyde Tilly's little sister?" Joe grinned, wipin' down the counter top in front'a me.

I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder at the doors with a chuckle. "There's a tall fella outside pukin' his guts out. How much did he drink?"

Joe leaned against the counter an' whistled. "Barely had one glass, that one. Came in a few minutes ago complainin'a hunger and cursin' out snakes, he was. Sounded like a New Yorker or somethin' t' me."

I hummed. It wasn't unheard of for a northerner t' come down t' the southern states an' just drop dead in the middle of the desert. They just didn't know where t' look for rattle snakes an' such.

"Alright, steak 'n potatoes for me an' the fella outside, an' some water too. All t' go, please." I finally said, makin' up my mind.

I reached into my boot for what little money I had, but Joe held out his hand an' shook his head. "Nevada, I insist that'cha keep ya money. Clyde was a dear friend'a mine. His kin don't gotta pay."

I grinned again at Joe, said my thanks, then left when my food an' water was ready.

The man was still there when I left the saloon, leanin' weakly against the post everyone tied their horses to.

"Hey fella." I called out t' the man, reachin' up t' clap him on the shoulder.

He looked down with hazy blue eyes. Sweat was drippin' down his pale forehead an' he looked like he was gonna puke again.

I shoved the jar'a water into his chest. "Drink some'a this. I'm gonna take you home an' fix you up, alright?"

The man stared at me for a little bit longer before nodding an' slumping forward.

It took me a bit to get the taller man onto Charlotte, an' I had t' ride behind him t' make sure he wouldn't fall off, but somehow it happened.

"So what's yer name?" I called out over the roar of the wind an' the poundin' of Charlotte's hooves. If he wanted t' make it he would have t' stay awake.

He mumbled for a moment an' I had t' strain my ears t' hear him.

"Bardroy..." The man murmured. "You?"

"Nevada." I replied, then frowned when I noticed his eyes droopin' again. "C'mon, y'gotta keep talkin'. Where ya from, Bardroy?"

The man bobbed in between my arms. I could see the ranch in the distance, an' I spurred Charlotte on even faster.

"New England..." Bardroy said, an' I could now hear the cockney accent t' his voice. "I'm a... soldier..."

We were almost there.

"Joe heard you talkin' 'bout snakes?" I called out.

Bardroy nodded. "Yeah... I got bit by... a rattler, I think..."

My eyes widened. Shoot, well that ain't good.

Charlotte came t' a stop right outside the house an' I barely got off'a her in time t' catch Bardroy as he slumped off the saddle.

Slingin' his arm 'round my shoulders, I dragged the larger man inside 'fast as I could an' layed him down on the dinin' room table.

"Where'd ya get bit?" I asked rushed.

The blonde man grimaced. "My leg..."

I nodded an' said a quick sorry before cuttin' his pants away at the knee.

Bardroy's right calf was kinda swollen an' red, but my shoulders sagged in relief when I saw the bite itself.

"Well, I got good news an' bad news for ya. The bad news is that this is gonna hurt like a son-of-a-gun for about a week, but the good news is that this ain't no rattlesnake bite."

I could see Bardroy's confusion as I went t' mama's secret stash'a liquor on top'a the cabinets in the kitchen.

"Gopher snakes act like rattlers when they're threatened, but they ain't venomous." I called back t' him.

I grabbed two bottles, one of straight up alcohol, an' the other a strong whiskey. After that I turned on a lanturn an' started heatin' up a needle in the flame.

"Ya better drink up." I told my guest, passin' him the whiskey. "'Cause this is gonna sting real bad."

Bardroy's blue eyes widened and he started chuggin' down the whiskey as I threaded the red-hot needle.

He hissed as I poured the pure alcohol onto the bite to clean it, an' nearly cried out when I started threadin' the four holes closed.

By the time I finished he seemed shaken, but alright. There was a hazy drunken look in his eye an' I noticed the entire whiskey bottle was empty.

"Hey, not bad." I chuckled. "When I went through that a few years ago I passed out."

Bardroy grimaced an' I yawned.

One glance ouside t' the settin' sun told me it was time t' put the animals away an' call it quits for the night.

"Well Mister Bardroy, you can sleep in my brother Clyde's old room for tonight." I stated, slingin' his arm around my shoulder once again an' headin' t' the bedrooms beyond the livin' space.

Enterin' the room Clyde used t' have, I dropped Bardroy onto his bed an' pulled the blankets up t' his chin, makin' sure he stayed on his side incase he threw up again.

"I'll be right next door in case you need me, but if you try anythin' funny durin' the night, just know that I got a shotgun under my bed with yer name on it."

I grinned widely at Bardroy's alarmed face an' clapped him on the shoulder.

"Sleep tight, sir."