"Where you headed?" Logan adjusted his hat and bit off a hunk of his plug tobacco. Marie was saddled up and had her rifle slung over her shoulder.

"Inta town," she said, spitting in the dirt. "Gotta hit the tradin' post."

"Careful, darlin'. Creed's men are all over. Be a shame to lose a pretty face like yers."

She squinted at him. "I ain't yer darlin'. Creed don't scare me. Nobody can touch me," she added, drawing her sidearm and twirling it with a flourish.

He grabbed her reins. "I can, darlin'. Now, are you gonna pick up some beer?"