Charlotte found the enthusiastic energy of the man sitting next to her refreshing. Not many people in town had that kind of zeal when it was just do damn hot all the time. Simion continued the conversation, grazing on a somewhat touchy subject for her—how she had gotten to town. Most of the people knew, or at least had a general idea, about how she became Sheriff, but other than that she has shared nothing.

“Oh, I was just traveling through when I came here,” Charlotte replied dismissively. As their talk went on, Charlotte, smiling, explained her (tedious) responsibilities to the man, her viewpoints and ideals, et cetera. “I mostly just try to keep the town safe and settle other disputes…” she was saying. All this time she had been largely unaware of what was going on around her, but every bit of tension she was feeling earlier finally culminated at the moment when a man—Archie—burst through the front doors sending off rounds from his gun.

“Get down!” she yelled, more to herself than to any other person. She followed Simion’s lead by jumping behind the bar. For a moment, she felt defenseless, but the cold metal against her leg reminded her of the gun she brought along. Trying to be modest, she slipped her hand up her dress and unholstered the weapon, pointing it first at Archie. Then her eyes settled on the man he was aiming at.

A man that looked vaguely familiar.

But in Charlotte’s semi-drunken haze she was having a tough time connecting the dots. Finally, when he bolted, Lady Rose shrieked about offering a thousand dollars to anyone who could capture him, obviously sending many others out after the bandit.

“He’s wanted!” the sheriff realized, standing up and heading for the door. She felt wobbly, even in her flats, and she caught herself on the threshold of the door just as more rounds were fired, followed by a crash as something outside fell to the ground.

“Rat O’Hennessey…” she breathed, after the man had shouted his name. “He’s worth ten thousand dollars!”

She balled her hand into a fist and slammed it on the doorway.

“Damn it!” she snarled. “I can’t go after him like this. I’ll get myself killed!”

Of course, [i]she[/i] didn’t necessarily have to get the man herself; it was more of a pride thing. It was really her job just to give the reward to whomever dragged the man in. Still though, she couldn’t believe she let something like this go down right under her nose.