True Blue pt 1

The train ride was a bumpy affair, and Roxanne wondered just how the big machine managed to keep itself together and not rattle out every single nut and screw that held the whole thing together. It had been a terribly long ride too and her rear was starting to fall asleep. Sighing, she got to her feet and walked her way down the length of the car, passing by the other passengers. As she did the men tilted their heads to her and she gave a small smile in return, nodding her head back at them. She reached a new seat and sat for a moment, looking at the world outside passing by as a fast pace.

She was moving west. There was a call for teachers and women with an actual education way out there amongst the dust and rocks and Roxanne Ritchi, a young and rather smart woman had decided to pack her things, kiss her mother and father goodbye and head out West. Of course they being the loving parents they were had sent her along with a good couple hundred dollars in her purse, and the promise that if she ever needed more help to send them a telegram. Even more importantly, if things were to go bad, she was always welcome back home.

But Roxanne wasn't the type to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. That's just not who she was, so different was she to the other little girls she had grown up playing with. All they cared about was who they would marry, how rich he would be, how handsome and how many little children they'd have.

"But don't you want something more out of life?" the young Roxanne, hair in plaits, had asked her friends.

"What else is there for us to do?" replied a friend. "Whoever it is I marry should count himself lucky to have the honour of taking my hand in marriage."

Roxanne decided back then to choose other friends, better ones who actually had goals. Unfortunately, it being 1872, not many women strived for much more outside of marriage and children. Yet she stuck to her goals, got herself a proper education and became a teacher's assistant at the ripe age of only fourteen. Since then she had spent the last ten years of her life dedicated to educating children and opening up worlds to them, especially the girls.

And that is what led her being on this train, heading out to a little town in the middle of no where. Word was gold was in 'them thar hills' and there had been a whole lot of miners heading out not a few years earlier. None of the gold had been found, but the people had remained, having grown to love the land and live off of it. They were tough people, she reckoned. While being tough was one thing, being smarter was even more important. With a good head on your shoulders you could make your mark on the world, after all.

"And where's a pretty lil' thing like you goin' West fer?" asked a voice, which startled Roxanne out of her day dreaming. She turned her head and stared up at a tall, lanky man. Seemed she had sat opposite his seat while he was up moving about too.

"Beg your pardon." she said quietly as she shifted, giving him room to sit opposite her. "I'm a teacher. There's call for teachers out there and I intend to answer it."

"Dun reckon they seen mucha lady teachers out there." he replied as he tilted his hat back revealing a sun burned face ripe with wrinkles and lines of age. But his eyes were incredibly sharp and pinpointed, brown and warm as the earth. He had grey hair, evident by the bushy moustache that took up residence on his upper lip, busy and gray as ash. "Hell, I'd be surprised if they got a school house worth talkin' about."

"Really?" Roxanne asked, growing a little cautious but dare not express as much on her face. "What of the children, then?"

"Learn from their folks who don't know much ta begin' with." shrugged the man. "Know how ta grow a crop, tend to cattle. Little to nothing else in their lives."

She frowned, and looked outside. The thick greens of the forests were long behind them now, already the land was barren and red as sin, the sky a bright blue and the sun burned the ground. No longer were there trees, just the odd number of cacti spotted on the horizon. "Well I'd say it is time for them to be woken from their sleepy little existence. It isn't right to remain indifferent and ignorant of the world around you."

He gave a low chuckle, and turned his head to look out yonder at the land that continued to dry out more and more with every passing second. It had a beauty to it that one couldn't truly explain, how far the land stretched and how baron it was. The mountains that pushed up through the flatness were huge and intimidating, and the greenery that dared to try and grow out here was tough and spiky to the touch. This was a man's mans world, where gun slinging was how disputes were settled. Where horse robbers were hung from trees and left for the birds to peck clean. It was certainly an interesting place for a young unmarried woman to go.

He only hoped that she had some kind of protection waiting out there for her, since she'd need it. Or else she'll be heading back home quicker then a rattler hiding from a hawk.

"Pardon," he said before nodding to her. "Go by the name Ashby."

"Roxanne. Roxanne Ritchi." Roxanne replied with a small smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ashby."

"Pleasure's mine."

"So Mr. Ashby, you know my business. What of your own?" Roxanne asked, tilting her head slightly and giving him a small smile. "Going home? Visiting family? Business?"

"Little bit of all of em." Ashby replied casually as he looked outside the window again. "Been away from home for far too long, finally a letter caught up with me as did the past so I'm comin' home. Probably fer the last time." he said, voice gravelly as ever, yet somber and soothing to the ear. Funny how the two contrasts met and somehow worked with the man.

"That's sad." she commented, "Do you have another family waiting back North?"

"Nosy lil' lady ain't ya?" Ashby asked as he grinned at her, showing he meant no harm or disrespect. "Matter of fact I don't. Man like me, don't often have time ta settle 'n find a wife. Ain't no sad thing so don't be sayin' you're sorry. S'my own choices, s'my own life 'n I'm lyin' in the bed I made with my boots on 'n I'm content."

"Well as they say that's what matters in the end, correct?" Roxanne smiled, "To at least be happy in yourself."

"S'what some folk say." he nodded before settling back in his seat and shut his eyes. "Now pardon me miss but I been awake fer a good couple days 'n I am in great need of a rest."

"Oh, oh of course." Roxanne spluttered, quickly getting to her feet. "Do sleep well Mr. Ashby." she said before moving back along the carriage towards her seat. Finding it empty she got herself comfortable but not before checking to make sure her carry bag was still where it was and unhampered with. Not that she didn't trust the individuals travelling with her, but you had to understand that a young woman travelling alone had to be careful, right? She sighed and glanced outside for a moment, watching the land. How much longer was this train ride going to last? It had been two days now, and tomorrow they would finally arrive at some time around ten. So another sleepless night on a rickety train was in stall, so she got herself as comfortable as she could.

Her dreams were hazy, of what she could remember when she awoke the next day. Swirls of red and black, blue and white then she had felt like she was swimming through a river at some point and her red dress feeling far heavier than it should in the water. She was startled awake, gasping in surprise, and looked around to see if anyone had witnessed her unorthodox waking method. It seemed everyone was reading newspapers, or talking with one another. The newspapers, of course, had been read many a time by now since being on a train for three days meant you weren't as up to date with information as you would normally like. Sighing, Roxanne ran a finger along her eyebrows as she looked at her barely visible reflection in the glass of the window. She looked a fright, so she quickly got up to use the washroom at the back of the car to make herself presentable before arriving at the station.

After cleaning her face and re-plating her long hair into a bun at the back of her head Roxanne returned to her seat. As she passed two gentlemen talking she couldn't help but over hear their conversation, already heated and whirling about them.

"--they reckon the beasts made of metal, no bullet can hurt 'em." said one with a large graying beard and wearing a tacky brown hat.

"Well that can't be right." replied his friend, a younger man with strawberry red hair. "How could no bullet kill a dog?"

"Ain't no dogs. Coyotes from Hell, a'servein' their master the Devil." replied the grey man to which the younger man merely snorted.

Roxanne found her seat and sat, before feeling somebody approaching her from the side. She glanced up to find Mr. Ashby stood there, possibly making his own way to the washroom like herself. "Well g'morning, Miss Ritchi." he greeted her as cheerfully as a man like himself could manage.

"Mr. Ashby, good morning." she replied.

"Almost time, all excited like ta see your new home?" he asked, "Last I heard their dry seasons' about to finally break in a few comin' weeks. So that'll liven folks up for sure."

"I'm tellin' ya, blue as the sky in July!" shouted the grey bearded man from a few seats away, obviously getting riled up at his young friend's inability to believe the story he'd been telling. "Livin' out there like a red skin but his skin, blue! S'a Devil, Satan himself walkin' the land!"

"Calm down old man, calm down." said the younger man, waving his hands. "I didn't mean none. I just find it hard to believe. Everyone knows the Devil got red skin, now you sayin' he's blue? And living way out here?"

Roxanne turned her head to look at them, curious as to the topic of their conversation. A blue devil? Out here?

"I'm tellin' ya! I saw 'im, dressed from head to toe in black. Ridin' a horse not of this world. Then there's steam 'n smoke everywhere he goes! The reason he ain't been shot dead by anyone, cuz he's tha Devil! He gone spoke some poor fools ta death, inta handin' over their guns 'n their money 'n blowin' their brains out. That's how he takes ya soul. None of this contract stuff, no signin', just talkin!" the old man was obviously passionate about the subject, judging by how red his face was. "'N that's why I ain't stoppin' at this station! The Devil's out there, boy, 'n you'll be rich for the takin'!"

Roxanne turned away from the ranting man and glanced up at Ashby, who was still staring at the ranting man with a look of, dare she think, irritation? Irate? Sighing, Ashby turned away and looked back down at her. He smiled. "Amazin' what folk'll believe in ain't it?"

"Hmm." she agreed, but said nothing further. A blue man, the Devil himself, walking the plains? Stealing means souls and killing them without second thoughts, with monsters doing his bidding? They had certainly not mentioned such things to her when she had applied for the position of teacher out here. Then again why would they tell such harsh lies and fairy tales like that? At least, she hoped they were fairy tales... cautionary tale stories cooked up by the older generation to try and keep the young ones in line. No doubt she'll hear threatening yarns along the lines of 'eat your vegetables or the Blue Devil will drag you away' or something along those lines.

Yet she still couldn't shake the realization at just how... honest, the man had seemed in his madness. As if he really had seen a man with blue skin, dressed in black, and prowling the wilds of the west. Maybe he had, maybe it was the drink, but he had appeared completely convinced of what he had seen.

"Don't go gettin' worried now, missy." Ashby spoke up, bringing her back from her thoughts. What was with her lately? She had been getting caught up in so many thoughts lately, it must appear incredibly rude to just stare off into the distance and ponder things whilst somebody was trying to talk to you. She blushed brilliantly, and glanced up at him. "Them there's an old man who's had a long love affair with a mistress named Whiskey." he reassured her before smiling again. "If you let every man with a tale lead you astray you'll be all kinds of lost."

"I suppose you're right." she agreed, nodding her head. "Thank you, Mr. Ashby."

"Don't mention' it." he replied with another smile before moving on past the squabbling men, and vanished out of sight.

Roxanne settled back and placed her hands in her lap, sighing to herself. Surely cautionary tales weren't anything to truly believe in. If so, any child sucking their thumbs should have had them nipped off by a man with a pair of scissors. Seeing as how nobody lost their thumbs like that, it was obvious there was no basis in believing such things. Yet still she couldn't shake a niggling feeling at the back of her head, like a tiny voice, telling her not to be so quick to pass over the Blue Devil as if he weren't real no matter how ridiculous he sounded. How could a person be blue? Maybe it was an Indian covered in war paint, just trying to scare people? That was a possibility, those people tended to decorate their skin for war... why not for intimidation?

In fact that logical explanation made a lot more sense than believing there was a man with blue skin. Yet then, how would you explain the beasts and demons? Possibly cooked up thanks to Whiskey, if anything else. Yes. Roxanne nodded her head to herself before jumping since the train suddenly decided to let out a long, loud whistle that pierced the silence. Well, silence that didn't involve the shaking train or the people talking over each other. That meant they were nearing the station, yes, yes they were for it was slowly beginning to slow down. She smiled as the first signs of life finally came into view, that being fences made of wire and wood. Then there were the horses and the buildings tall and strong from the gold rush.

It was as dry as she had thought, since there was no sign of trees at all. The only way to seek shelter was underneath the verandas of the buildings and stores, meanwhile a huge water tower stood guard at the end of town. She could just see, if she squinted right, the cemetery over yonder where there stood wait... yes, the ONLY tree. It was big, black, and no doubt it had once been a 'hanging tree' before a proper gallows was erected. Roxanne swallowed, not wishing to linger on the thought of hanging people. It was a grisly affair and didn't particularly like reading or hearing about it, the way peoples feet would walk and their necks snap. Disgusting, just how people found it something worth watching was beyond her.

Finally the train came to a complete stop and those who were stopping got up and began to gather their bags and make their way to the exits. Roxanne took her time, picking up her hat and placing it upon her head and pinning it in place with her hat pin through her hair. She was just passing by the drunken grey man when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm. Startled, she yelped and tried pulling her hand away. "Excuse me!" she cried, more annoyed then scared.

"Don't git off the train." he said quietly, voice shaking with a fear one would not normally expect from a man of his age. "He'll snatch you up 'n cart you off to Hell. He'll do all manner of horrible things...!"

"Release me." Roxanne demanded, eyes narrowed as she pulled at her wrist again. "I am no weeping lily who'll allow silly stories fill my head!"

"It ain't no story!" he insisted, voice rising. "It's real as he is!"

It was here the conductor finally came along and managed to shake the old man off of her, apologizing profusely over any harm the old man may have inflicted. She hurried off, not wanting to spend any second longer with the crazed man. Stepping off of the train, finally, Roxanne blinked rapidly since the sun was harsher than she had anticipated. The air was hot and thick, almost choking her at first, but she coughed to clear her throat as she walked down the station to collect the rest of her valuables that consisted of only one more suitcase that had been too large to fit above her head or beneath her feet. As she walked those who were waiting for the train watched her cautiously, as if expecting the strange woman to do something... well. Strange. She did not, and once her bag was handed to her she thanked the station hand before walking on through the small red station and entered onto the main road.

Stores lined either side of the road, she saw a grocer, drugs, butcher, doctor, lawyer, the bank, the sheriff's office, jail house, and various other small stores. Beyond the main road there were the living areas, little houses and cottages, what have you. All of them rustic looking in appearance, well lived in and battered by the harsh weather of the desert. Looking to her left she spotted what she guessed was the schoolhouse though it looked very lacking in appearance. Frowning she walked towards it and stood outside it, and observed the writing scrawled on a sign that hung above the door, for frowned since they had written 'school' as 'Shool'.

"Well that's just plain sad." Roxanne observed.

Hearing a bit of a hubbub behind her Roxanne turned and saw a group of people, women, men, and young people hurrying over to a man she recognized from the train. Mr. Ashby was shaking hands with one of them, and she distinctly heard someone elate about him coming back home. It was obvious that Mr. Ashby was far more important to this town than he let on, and being the curious woman she was, Roxanne walked over to the group.

"How'd the big smoke treat ya, sir?" asked one young man.

"As well as a smoke can." replied Mr. Ashby. He turned to an older gentleman, smiling fondly beneath his bristled moustache. "How's my replacement, as good as I hear?"

"Oh Sheriff Scott is like a heaven sent!" replied the older man, lowering his monocle to wipe it on his dirty shirt and quickly replacing it. "Since he took over there's been no cattle rustlers or nuthin' ta speak of! Not that you didn't do yer best, Ashby. You were one of the best sheriff's our town's ever had."

A sheriff! Roxanne should have known! She watched as the people who had one relied on this man to keep the peace continued to welcome him back home and smiled faintly. Mr. Ashby caught her eye for a moment and nodded his head to her and she returned it. Then he actually reached out to her, "Folks I'd like ta introduce you to a fine young lady I met on the train comin' on out here." he said, and all heads turned to look at her. The woman in red stood out amongst the tans, blacks and off-whites of the clothing around her even more vibrantly than before, and she smiled meekly. "This here is Ms. Roxanne Ritchi, she'll be takin' over the ole' school house."

The younger children in the crowd whispered to each other suddenly, as if already planning on ways on how to avoid the classes that the woman would be setting up.

"Hello." Roxanne greeted, standing taller and pulling her shoulders back. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Train ride was Hell weren't it?" asked a man, to which she smiled and nodded.

"Fairly bumpy." she admitted, though choosing not to tell him how sore her rear was. "But worth it all I must say. It's a lovely town you have out here." she complimented, since it was true. The town was the very image of 'western living' that she had read about in books and in the newspapers. Such a striking contrasts to her uptown upbringing from back home. "Now if one of you will be so kind as to point me in the direction of where I'll be living...?" Roxanne asked.

"Oh, you'll be havin' the quarters behind the school house." explained an older lady with thin brown hair. "Here, I'll show you." Thanking her, Roxanne followed the woman. "I used to be the school teacher before things went... well. South." she said with a small smile. "There was just a drop in births 'round here so there weren't no point in keepin' the school open. That, 'n with the money dryin' up most of the families plum left. It was awful sad." the woman explained before suddenly realizing her manners and laughed nervously. "Oh my listen to me, goin' on and I haven't even introduced myself. My name's Jane. Jane Doe."

Roxanne smiled and shook her hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Doe."

"Mrs. Doe, thank you." corrected Jane, to which Roxanne apologized. "And yourself? Got yourself a husband?" she asked.

"No, I'm afraid not." Roxanne replied as she followed Mrs. Doe around the school house to a small regular house that seemed as neglected as the school was. Seemed she had her work set out for her. "I never took a husband back home... I was more concerned in my career in teaching children then to take off with a man and leave the children uneducated."

"Mighty fine thing to do, puttin' the lil' ones ahead of yourself like that." Mrs. Doe commented with a smile. "Though you do realize word will get around of you being unmarried and all manner of young men may come courting you."

"Well I hope for their sake they put that time and effort to better use. I really have no interest in it all." Roxanne replied simply as Mrs. Doe unlocked the front door to the house and pushed it open. Inside was a simple affair. A large main room where one prepare food at the stove, eat at the little table, read in a chair covered in dust... and through a single door was where the bedroom lay. Roxanne walked in and examined the place, and ran a finger along the table and saw just how caked it was with dust. "Bit of a fixer upper but nothing I can't handle." she smiled, turning to Mrs. Doe. "And after I've cleaned this place, I'm going to start work on that poor school house."

"You certainly got a lot of enthusiasm, that's good. You'll be needin' it! And a wrangler." added Mrs. Doe as she handed over the keys to both the house, and the schoolhouse.

"Wrangler?" Roxanne asked.

"The lil' ones will hardly wanna take up classes after a life time of not havin' to attend. You'll be needin' someone to hog tie them up and bring em in!" Mrs. Doe joked, laughing afterwards with a merry, tinny laugh that somehow irritated Roxanne. As nice as this woman was, she just couldn't shake the feeling it had been partly her own fault that the children had gone so long without an education. What kind of teacher just gives up? But she dare not say this to the woman's face, at least not now.

"Hmm. Well, time will tell. Thank you again Mrs. Doe, but I best start getting this place looking respectable." Roxanne said as she glanced around the small living space again which, back home, measured the size of their bathroom.

"Of course!" Mrs. Doe exclaimed, welcoming Roxanne once again and informed her that she would let those important folk in town know the new teacher was in town and they would throw a welcome gala for her. Which, for Roxanne, sounded awfully nice. A party, for her? She had had a going away party back home, where her family and friends had come to wish her luck out west but receiving one upon arrival hadn't been on the agenda.

Presently, though, the agenda called for cleaning. Once she had bought some soap and such from the local store, and grabbing herself a bucket and mop she made sure the blinds were closed before she removed her red dress, leaving her in her under garments composing of her pantaloons, boots, corset and under shirt. She then got down to cleaning, mopping, dusting, cleaning, and straightening things out. The layers of dust made her choke, and she had to open a few windows but had been quick to do it in case anyone would happen to see her bare skin from outside. That was the last thing she needed, to be listed as a floozy for showing some skin.

Pulling on some more friendlier work clothes, some overalls and one of her father's old shirts, Roxanne moved her cleaning duties outside so she could wash the windows, and wipe down the wood and basically spruce up the place.

"I'm gonna need a coat of paint for you.... and you..." she mused once it was all over with, looking over the poor school house. Roxanne shuddered to think what it was like inside, probably just as if not worse than her house was. But that was a job for tomorrow, since the sun was beginning to dip in the horizon and she had still so much more to do. Dressing properly once more, Roxanne made her way to the general store where she bought some proper sheets and bedding, basic goods to see her through the next day (milk, bread, eggs, beans, tea etc) before returning to her new home.

After making herself a decent little meal of toast and eggs, Roxanne got changed for bed. Slipping into her nightgown she climbed into bed and lay there, and took a deep breath. So far things seemed do-able. Her home was now clean, spick and span. Tomorrow she would have to go and visit the general store again and ask if they could order in some red paint, or maybe ask around town to see if anyone had a spare can laying around that she could buy off them for a few dollars. Speaking of dollars, Roxanne had hidden her purse full of money within her mattress. No way would she walk around with hundreds on her person that was just asking for trouble. While she highly doubted there were pick pockets out here, she still didn't want to run the risk of loosing her purse and with it all her money.

To telegraph her parents for help so soon would be an embarrassing affair.

Blowing out her night candle Roxanne finally settled down to get some well deserved sleep, and it wasn't long until she was indeed dreaming sweet dreams of red school houses, and blue men standing outside the windows looking in. The black he was wrapped in seemed to unravel, and began to slowly envelope the entire world. Roxanne was not afraid, in her dream, for instead she stood her ground and faced on the man, the Devil. Just as his blue, bloodied hand was reaching for her there were gun shots and the black evaporated.

The gun shots rang out again, and Roxanne sat up in her bed, eyes wide. Those guns weren't from her dreams, but coming from outside in the town somewhere! She was sure of it! Grabbing a candle she quickly lit it, and hurried to the front room and pulled back a blind to see outside. Of course, living behind the school house hindered her vision of the main road something awful but she could certainly hear a whole lot of talking and shouting. Were they rustlers? Or maybe just passer bys, needing a drink from the local saloon? Whatever they were, they were being awfully loud. Judging by how high the moon was, it was terribly late.

"…sa sheriff!" said a voice, amongst all the rambling, and Roxanne tried desperately to watch as another figure walked by (of what she could see) and she saw a striking white color. The sheriff was clad in white? That would be all but impossible to keep clean out here.

Roxanne strained to hear but it seemed the time for talking was over. The sheriff was doing his duty it seemed for it wasn't long until she heard the clambering of horse hooves as a few horses, possibly with or without riders, took off into the night. There was muffled cheers and talking, and it was obvious the sheriff had seen them off. So who was this, was this the Sheriff Scott that she had heard briefly about the day before? The one who took over when Mr. Ashby had left the town? Quite possibly.

To see off a good half dozen men who had obviously drank too much and had been using their weapons at the wrong time showed how strong, or intimidating, this man was. Roxanne decided, as she made her way back to her bed to get back to sleep so she could have an early start with the roosters, was that she would meet this man in white and find out what he was like. It was important to know everyone important in your new town, after all. She would also have to stop by the doctor and introduce herself and retell her family medical history, along with the drug store runner to make sure he had bandaids and such for when the children would no doubt get hurt when playing rough.

"So much to do." she sighed as she climbed back into bed, blowing out her candle for the second time that night. "So little time." Roxanne added before getting back down into bed and shut her eyes.

The next morning Roxanne had her morning routine of washing, and dressing herself before enjoying a breakfast of more toast and eggs along with a cup of tea. Grabbing a few notes of money from her mattress, she set out into the town in the early morning. She hadn't realized just how early it was, since the sun was just beginning to peek up from across the horizon. The sky was a beautiful inky black color, except for the orange red that came first before the sun. "Red sky... blood was shed last night." she echoed her father's old tale, which she guessed was right every morning since blood was being spilled everywhere at some point or another.

One thing that didn't surprise her was seeing how many folks were awake this early. It appeared today was market day, for there were stalls being erected along the main street. Farmers who had stayed on were peddling their wares and there were all manner of things she didn't expect. Tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, even some lettuces and parsley. Then there was the butches, with their freshly killed and drained chickens, rabbits, and cow.

"Well good morning to you, Ms. Ritchi." greeted the butcher who seemed to know her name before she knew his own.

"Good morning, sir." she replied, "Your name?"

"Gary J. Thompson, local butcher." he replied, tipping his hat to her though it was a small white one that was strapped tightly to his head so no hair got on the meat. "Can I interest you in a chicken? Nothing like a good chicken roast to fill your belly." he grinned.

"Oh, no thank you Mr. Thompson," Roxanne smiled. "I need to get about cleaning my school house and a chicken is going to be no help at all."

"If you say so Ms. Ritchi, though I think a good feed will prepare you for such a big task." he replied, to which she agreed but knew where her money was going today. Paint, and supplies for the school. Making her way past the rest of the stalls she finally found the general store again and was about to go in when something gave her pause.

Across the way was the Sheriff's office. Curiosity got the better of her, and she walked across the road to step up onto its veranda. An old dog slept lazily on the steps, alongside a younger one. Both gave her a queer look as she walked up but they didn't growl, or bark, despite her being a new person. They could probably easily tell she was no threat to either of them, showing how smart a dog could be. She smiled, before glancing up at wanted signs that lined the front of the office.

Many of them had big red marks through them, showing that the bounties had been collected. Angry looking men stared out at her, and a few luscious looking beauties too, wanted for laundering money and killing men. Tsking she kept reading, until she stopped short on one poster which gave her pause. It was a sketch of someone as if they hadn't been rightly seen. The dominant color was black, going from the hat on the persons head to a high collar that blocked vision of most of the face while a poncho covered the rest. The man, for she guessed that's what it was, was looking over his shoulder as if glaring at the reader of the poster.

"Wanted." she read on the sign, "For murder, cattle rustling, sheep rustling, robbery, trafficking illegal substances, disturbing the peace, resisting arrest and petty larceny." Roxanne looked at the reward, which was $10,000 now but it seemed to have been previous amounts too. She could make out the painted over amounts of $500, $800, $8,000 and various other numbers that obviously had been painted over with a new amount covering them. How quickly this man, whatever his name, had risen in rank and in amount owed for his arrest or death.

"Admiring the peanut gallery, lil' lady?" the voice surprised Roxanne and she jumped, despite herself, and looked up to find a tower of a man standing over her. Judging by the gold star badge on his chest, this was the sheriff since it was even more obvious because he was wearing white from head to foot. A five-gallon hat sat upon his head, white as clouds, and everything from the neck down, including his vest, belts and boots, were white. Just how in the name of mayflowers did you stay white in a desert? "Pardon me," he said with a deep, sombre tone, "didn't mean to startle you."

"Then you shouldn't walk up behind ladies and talk." Roxanne replied curtly, not at all bedazzled by his charming good looks, warm smile, or perfect hair that poked out from beneath his hat.

"True enough." he replied with a warm chuckle before folding his arms, causing the white fabric to tug since his biceps were larger than any Roxanne had laid eyes on before, and she had once snuck into a boxing tournament to watch the men strike each other. Those men had been mountains, yet this sheriff dwarfed them with his thumb. "Name's Sheriff Scott, Wayne Scott. And what might your name be?" he asked.

"Ms. Roxanne Ritchi." she replied, and was a little touched when he reached, took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Thank you. I'm the new teacher here. Your school house is certainly in some disrepair." Roxanne commented.

"Hah hah, don't I know it." he laughed, tilting his hat back so he could look down at her without interference. "Unfortunately it was hardly my right to round up kids and set them in that house without a teacher." Sheriff Scott admitted.

Roxanne wanted to say that yes, it was his right since he was the sheriff and he had to look out for everyone in this town, under his protection no matter how mundane or foolish it seemed. But she said nothing, instead choosing to smile softly. "Children can hardly teach themselves reading, writing, and arithmetic." she agreed. "Was the school house open when you were a boy, Sheriff Scott?" she asked.

"Oh yes. Mrs. Doe, who was a Ms. Peacock back then, was my tutor. Taught me the basics and set me off on the road which led to me becoming sheriff of this town." he grinned before lifting his head and nodded to somebody who had greeted him. "Course I stared as a deputy under Mr. Ashby, back when he had this job. Good man, good teacher, damn fine good lawman."

"Yes he is a nice man." Roxanne replied before turning, and pointing to the picture that had caught her interest. "I am curious though. I heard tale that the Devil walks these lands and has been known to rob a man blind before shooting him with his own pistol. On top of that, I hear he also rides a horse not of this world and is accompanied by beasts and demons. Is this him?" she asked.

"Don't miss out on much do you?" Sheriff Scott asked with a smile. "Yes, that's him. He's known as Blue Devil 'round here, though while I know he strikes an intimidatin' image he ain't the real Devil. He's just a man. A horribly disfigured, twisted man raised by sucklin' on evil's teet and is just as black as the clothes he wears."

"Is he truly blue?" she asked.

"War paint." scoffed the sheriff, "Nothin' else. But get the story of the devil paradin' around town and soon everyone believes the myth rather than fact. He," he pointed to the picture, "Is a thorn in my side and has been since before I even took up position of Sheriff. You best be careful, Ms. Ritchi. For I'd hate for you to get caught up in things."

"Caught up in things." Roxanne echoed the phrase, frowning slightly. "How so?"

"Best you don't know." he replied, "Though I will say one thing. Don't go out after dark unattended by someone."

"Do I look the type of woman who would wander the streets alone, and after dark?" she asked, narrowing an eye slightly. "I may be new to your town, sheriff, but my mother didn't raise no dummy. My main concern is the education of these children in your town who, from the looks of things, have been very lacking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy some paint to spruce up my school house."

"Course miss, course." Sheriff Scott replied, taking a step back and lifting his hands. "Meant no harm or disrespect to you. Just my job ta look out for those in my town."

"Yes of course it is." Roxanne replied, the edge in her voice softening if just a little bit. "I apologize for my outburst. That was unheard of, and rude."

"None taken. By all rights ya said the right thing." he smiled before taking another step back and gesturing back to the main streets. "You have yourself a good day Ms. Ritchi, and I'll be seein' ya 'round town won't I?"

"I guess you will." she smiled and curtseyed for him slightly before walking off and away from the office and heading back towards the general store. Well, the man seemed nice enough though he was awfully dim at times. His heart was in the right place though, telling her to be mindful; as if she'd be anything but! It was as if he expected her to go waltzing off into the dark, as if inviting trouble and danger to come peek up her skirts.

Turned out luck was in her shadow today, for the general store had two tins of red paint on hand. Purchasing them, and a brush, Roxanne returned to her schoolhouse and set to work. First things were first though, she had to open up the schoolhouse and have a look at the damage. Unlocking the door she pushed it open and peered into the single roomed house and groaned in irritation. Spider webs clogged the ceiling area of the room, as well as on the small writing desks that lined the middle of the room in rows of four. The inner walls were dusty as well, as was the floor.

"Darn it." Roxanne sighed, found herself a kerchief and tied it around her mouth before grabbing her mop and bucket and headed in to start cleaning it all out. Some people passed by the school house, and many a child stopped to watch the woman in overalls taking out the chairs and desks in order to clean them. Once a large spider had jumped out of a school desk, making Roxanne squeak in surprise, before she smashed it under her boot. Ugly little things, spiders, she hated them something awful. It took her over two hours to clean out the school house from the inside out, having dusted away all the horrible spider webs, dust, and signs of neglect.

"I'm going to need a new desk." she mumbled as she touched the old one that sat at the front of the class. It looked awfully old, and it was a splintery nightmare. Roxanne would need some assistance taking it out, no doubt, and finding another one out here might be tricky. Then again, who said she needed a desk? She could walk, and talk, and sit at a simple chair while teaching without a desk. On the other hand though she had all those books and such, all the chalk, and blackboards for the children to use.

"Knock knock!" came a familiar tone from the cracked door, and she stood up quickly. "Anyone home?" it was the Sheriff.

"Hmm. Yes!" she replied and smiled faintly as the man in white appeared in the door way before realizing what a mess she must look like. Strands of her hair were sticking out, no doubt she'd have dust sticking to her if not a few remains of spider webs. Quickly she pushed a loose strand behind her ear, and wondered just why she'd had allowed him inside in the first place. "Hello again, Sheriff Scott."

"Wow, amazing. Look at all the work you done." he admired, looking around the room. "Almost lookin' good as new."

"I still need to re-write that horrible sign outside and paint the walls." Roxanne pointed out, "So it isn't looking that good as new yet."

"Granted even with that needin' doin', it looks amazin'. Oh, here." he walked forwards and held out a red apple to her. "Figured a teacher needs an apple, right?"

Roxanne looked at the apple and wondered just where he had gotten it from. There had been no apples for sale at the stalls when she had walked past, unsurprisingly since there weren't any apple trees out here. Did he have a tree for himself? Or maybe a travelling merchant had just passed through with some? But they'd be at least three days old and this apple looked crisp, rosy and fresh. Smiling either way she took the apple from him. "Thank you, that's awfully kind of you."

He smiled. "Well I best leave you to your work..."

"Oh wait," Roxanne started after him since he had begun to turn to leave. "I could need a little bit of assistance. The desk, it's far too old to be of use any more and it would probably better suit on a bonfire somewhere than in here."

"Ah! I get you." he said with a charming wink. She stood back and watched as he hefted the desk up slightly and dragged it outside. Even though it still looked like quite the job, he did it alone, and without any fuss. My, the boys out here were a strong type it seemed. Sheriff Scott threw the desk outside to rid himself of its weight and cleaned his hands on themselves. "Anythin' else I can do for you?" Sheriff Scott asked, turning back to the lady.

"No, but thank you very much for your help. I doubt I would have been able to do that myself." Roxanne smiled, still clutching the apple in her hands.

"Happy to oblige little lady. Now I'll get out from under ya feet 'n let ya get back to your school house." he nodded his head, tilted his hat, before grabbing the desk again and began dragging it off through the main street.

Roxanne watched him go before taking a bite out of her apple and gasped, it was so fresh! Maybe it had been suspended in water to keep it so fresh? That was probably it. She quickly ate the apple, having forgotten just how hungry she had felt what with all the work going on. Once she had finished off the apple, she began the long task of painting the schoolhouse. Even more evidence of her lucky streak was back, since the fact it was a calm day. No wind, no dust to get in her paint at all. She hummed to herself as she worked, since she found it helped time tick by just a little bit quicker when she had a song in her head. Stopping for drinks and quick talks with some locals wanting to meet the new school teacher, Roxanne managed to get the whole building painted a rich, glossy, warm red color before three in the afternoon.

She had even re-written the sign for the school, spelling it out fully, and adding her name beneath the word 'School' to emphasize what her position in the the won was.

"Pardon me, Ms. Ritchi?" a new voice, accompanied by a new face, spoke and Roxanne turned to meet the new person. It was a young boy, no older than ten at least, and he was holding his brown tattered hat in his hands. "Howdy Ms. Ritchi, don't mean to be botherin' you none but I done heard you're in need of a new desk?"

"Word certainly travels fast in this town." Roxanne commented with a smile before nodding. "I do indeed."

"Thought y'all better know my pappy's got a big ole' desk we dun need anymore at our ranch out east. S'a bit of a way, 'n you'd need at least two horse 'n a carriage ta get there 'n bring the desk back..."

Roxanne frowned slightly, before glancing around the town.

"If'n you're figurein' where ta get a pair of horses 'n a cart I'm sure Mr. Jenkins at the stables could lend ya 'em." added the little boy.

She smiled and looked back down at him. "And what is your name, young man?"

"Damien." he replied quickly, flushing since he'd realize how rude it was to not introduce himself to the woman who would no doubt become his teacher. "Damien Jamieson."

"Well young Mr. Jamieson thank you kindly for the help. Think you could let your 'pappy' know that I'm interested in purchasing the desk from him, how much he would require, and when I would be able to collect?" she asked.

"Course!" Damien replied before tugging his hat back on, grinned at her, and ran off. She watched as he approached a big black horse that was carrying a cart. His father, obviously, was at the reins. They must have come in to sell their wares at the stalls, since there were crates that had names of vegetables upon them but they were mostly empty. Damien climbed onto the back of the cart just as his father cracked the reigns and the huge horse neighed and started off eastward bound, going home. The little boy waved to Roxanne as they drove past, and she waved back.

Looking back down the main road Roxanne couldn't help but notice how suddenly empty the place appeared. All the stalls were gone, and there were no people in sight. Looking up at the sun she realized it would be at least some time around four in the afternoon, people were probably enjoying their evening meals at least... but it did seem a tad early. That's when she spotted something left in the middle of the main road, a crate. "Huh?" she said aloud before walking out to it, and stopped by the crate and peered inside. Within the brown crate were at least half a dozen bottles of alcohol accompanying various fruits, vegetables, meat and bread. "What the...? Did anyone forget their purchases today?" Roxanne asked herself, before standing up and had just begun to pick up the crate when the sun suddenly went out.

Things became incredibly still, even the crows cawing in the distance seemed to zip their beaks as a tingling sensation rippled through the air. Roxanne turned and gasped, thankful she hadn't lifted the crate since no doubt she would have dropped it. Thick, black smoke was pouring out of... somewhere, but it was thundering towards the town as if coming from Hell itself. Roxanne, normally a level headed young woman who kept together during stressful situations found herself rooted to the spot. This couldn't be happening, could it? She remembered the grey man on the train, speaking of steam and smoke surrounding the Devil wherever he went. But Sheriff Scott had told her that he was just a man! How could the two of them be right, unless the Sheriff had lied to her face. The idea alarmed her, but not so much as when she saw two figures riding out of the black haze.

The horse was shining, and its eyes were blood red and glowing, sending shards of light piercing through the darkness like a knife cutting through butter. Its hooves were metallic and black, and made an awful noise as they struck the hard ground underfoot. The mane and tail was black, long, and she was certain around its hooves were rings covered in spikes. Yet it didn't look alive, not at all. Like... a tin toy, played with by a little boy but now the size of a fully-grown horse. Its rider though, she had seen before. It was the same man she had seen drawn on that poster, only this time he wasn't looking over his shoulder, he was looking dead ahead as the horse continued its course. A huge, wide brimmed hat covered his head and a black kerchief with silver lightning bolts covered his face from the nose down. There was the large collar, and the black poncho that was being knocked back by the wind and the speed of the horse revealing the black vest, long sleeves, gloved hands... everything was black.

She gasped as the horse came to a grinding halt in front of her, mere inches separating her from the metal beasts nose. Sudden jets of steam erupted from its nose and she jumped back, shrieking as she did. It even moved like a real horse, shaking its head with the girdle in its mouth, though it was welded into place, totally irremovable.

Blue Devil, since it was him, slowly tilted his hat back to reveal striking green eyes. Roxanne had never seen such a vibrant green in all her life, not even in the paintings that her mother had hanging in their house back home. It was like spring, only powered one hundred times more vibrant than possible. And the skin, at least the skin she could see peeking out from under the back of his hat and kerchief, was blue as the sky. The gray man hadn't lied at all. He suddenly chuckled, as if remembering a joke, and it was a deep, low, evil kind of thing that sent shivers up her spine. Suddenly he turned and gestured to the second rider she hadn't even had a good look at.

"New blood I think." he said, voice surprisingly not as deep as she would have thought it to be, though it was muffled by the kerchief.

"Obviously, sir." replied the second voice. Roxanne finally tore her eyes away from the Blue Devil to look at his counterpart, who had ridden along behind and to the side of him the entire time. Her eyes widened with horror as she saw the beast besides the man, riding a horse that was a spitting duplicate of the one Blue Devil rode. This man... this wasn't a man. It was like a monster from a story book only far more horrifying. The body was metallic. It had joints and clogs, gears and wires stringing the body together. The body itself looked like any ordinary man, though it had fur of a buffalo stuck to it in places, giving it an appearance of an animal, or a cowboy who liked wearing skins. Its hands were thick and grey, knuckles made of bolts and nails made of copper. But it was the head of the.... the beast that scared her most. Instead of a head like a regular man, there was a dome like the kind she saw precious things kept inside of. Only instead of an expensive porcelain doll, or a gold clock, hidden away under the dome was a fish.

A green, glowing and talking fish. She continued to stare, mouth agape, until the Blue Devil spoke up again. "You know in most circles it's considered rude to stare." he said calmly, though there was a hint of irritation to his voice as he spoke.

This was all too much for the young woman, and despite her best attempts, she fainted. She struck the ground, kicking up dust as she did, leaving the two outlaws staring down at her.

"I hate it when they do that." sighed the fish, climbing off of his horse revealing his back. If she had been awake she would have seen all manner of mechanisms attached to him. It was like somebody had gutted a clock, put it all back together, and set it on the back of his body. There was a long pipe coming out from the very centre of his back, which had thin grey smoke slowly emitting from it. Not enough to cause all the smoke that surrounded them, no. That came from the horses, who kicked out a lot of power and exhaust. Their pipes were coming from the hips of the beasts, which were now still and waiting.

"Honestly Minion," Blue Devil said as he leaned forward on his horse, watching as the mechanical fish bent to pick up the crate. "What'd you expect, a greeting?" he asked. "Let's just collect our food and get out of here before that stupid Sheriff thinks we intend to do evil things to this young woman here." he said, unable to help but look at the fallen lady. She was pretty, in a plain kind of way. Those overalls did nothing for her, but her freckles upon her face were a nice little addition as was the beauty spot on her chin. "Wonder why she's out here. I don't remember seeing her before."

"You would if you had, Sir." Minion replied as he strapped the crate to the back of the horse, snapping it into place with locks before climbing back onto the horse.

"Of course." Blue Devil chuckled before suddenly yanking on the metal horses reigns, and the beast backed up onto its hind legs and let out a whiney that sounded like a tin can being ripped in two by a saw. "H'YAH!" he screamed and the horse spun on its hooves and took off back West where they had come from. Minion's horse did the same but not nearly as fancy, since he was carrying the crate of food that was left out for them every Wednesday. The two horses, their riders, and the grey smoke was soon gone from the town, leaving Ms. Ritchi where she had fallen. It was only once the whole place was clear did people suddenly come rushing out of their homes, and stalls, to hurry to the young woman's aide.

"Oh mercy, mercy!" Mrs. Doe tutted as she watched as the doctor checked her over. "Didn't anyone warn her of what happens Wednesdays?"

"I thought you had!" said another man.

"No, I thought you did!" cried Mr. Jenkins.

"Oh the poor love!" lamented another woman.

"She's fine." the doctor said as he put his arms under her in order to lift her. "Just stunned. Best get her to my surgery either way, let her lay down 'n get some rest. Best somebody explain to her what's goin' on..."

"I can." Mr. Ashby spoke up, walking up to the group. "S'my fault this happens anyway."

"Ain't no fault of yours, Mr. Ashby." Mr. Jenkins said, "It's thanks to you the Devil don't come into town every day stealin' souls 'n killin' folk." those around him agreed readily, nodding.

"Hn." Mr. Ashby grunted and he followed along with the doctor, taking Roxanne to his surgery where the woman would be tended to, forehead wiped and cleaned with a wet rag and given some water. Hopefully she wouldn't be out of it too long, but it wasn't every day a young educated woman came across creatures that defied logic, along with a talking green fish in a steam powered suit. That's something you just don't read about.

To be continued