Raven Haired Woman

Raven rode into town on her buckskin horse. She’d heard the sheriff of Coyote’s Call had cleaned the town up in a little over a year. She was sure this would be a risk, but it’d be a risk worth taking. The bank, as a result of the lack of crime and surplus of miners, contained all the shiny gold Raven could ever want.

“Let’s see what you’re made of Sheriff Fox.”

Raven rode slowly through town—no need to tip people off that she was in a rush. She stopped at a general store next to the bank. The hitching post was worn from use. Fresh white paint garnered the old building, and new black letters in all capitals screamed “HARE’S WARES” over the awning.

“Who’s there?!” The merchant about jumped out of his white shirt at the sound of the door opening.

“Just a traveler. Need to restock before I hit the road.” Raven avoided eye contact, but keep up the neat of the conversation. “Heard y’all have one helluva lawman here.”

Mr. Hare shook his head with a great bucktoothed grin, as if this were a personal achievement of his. “That about sums him up right there! Not a scoundrel brave or stupid enough to rouse the Sheriff! My if I haven’t had a holdup in two years now. Why, just five days ago I was speaking to Mrs. Hound about the…”

Raven walked the shop and browsed the wares, only half listening to the incessant babble spewing forth from the silly rabbit. In silence, she investigated the little general store for any convenient entry she could use as a getaway after she struck the bank.

“…but you know Sheriff Fox! I suppose he just has a weakness for black haired ladies! Anyways, Miss kitty left about—“

“What did you say?” Raven just had a terribly bright idea.

“Why the Sheriff! The way he fawned after Miss Kitty before she left town became a sort of wildfire with the town gossips! It’s all anybody would talk about for months. Poor Sheriff Fox wouldn’t even leave the jail for days. Probably licking his wounds. Poor soul.”

Mr. Hare wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve, as if having a conversation with himself was equivalent to plowing a field. Raven mostly kept her mouth shut after her interruption. The way the man talked didn’t give much room to speak anyway. She quickly gathered the supplies she needed, noted the stairs to the second story window, and put her goods on the counter.

“Well, speaking of black-haired womenfolk, you wouldn’t happen to be here to break our Sheriff’s heart, would ya?” He smirked at the wit of his dull jest.

Her eyes shines under the brim of her dusty black Stetson, grinning to the thought of the gold she’d soon have. “I might just be.”

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