Still More Beginning

Lucky grabbed the bottle from Hector's (he looked like a Hector) grubby hand. He took a swig, trying not to think of where this particular bottle had been, or what other lips it had touched.

He leaned up against the bar and examined the saloon more intently. It was a very large room. There were fifteen big tables (six fat men could sit and eat at these tables comfortably) spread unevenly throughout the room. There was an old player piano in the corner. Even from across the room Lucky could tell it hadn't been in use in quite some time. It was covered by a thick layer of dust, and there were two bullet holes right where the pianist would sit. Across the room from the piano was a set of stairs leading up to the second floor landing. There were a few doors leading, presumably, to a few bedrooms. A flimsy looking handrail went up the stair and along the landing. It had obviously been repaired more than a few times. And not very well.

A girl sat fanning herself on the stairs in spite of the general lack of heat.

Lucky smiled around the bottle and decided he should get a closer look.

Her leggings, dress and gloves were all tattered and worn looking, but her face was anything but. Gorgeous would be a good word to describe her. She was gorgeous. She looked worriedly from Lucky to the front doors and back again.

Lucky turned his gaze to follow hers. "Looks like a storm's a'brewin'." said Hector. Not much was visible beyond the saloon doors except a whole lot of swirling dust.

"Ayuh." replied Lucky as he spat another red glob to the ground. It almost landed on his boot. Above the boots, Lucky was clad all in black. Black leather. Even his duster. He pulled the duster back to reveal two guns, one on either hip. Lucky had never seen guns quite like these. They were the old style of guns, the old, old style. With the cylinders. Except these guns held seven shots each. The metal was almost white, and so shiny it seemed to glow. The handles were inlaid with a deep black wood that was delighfully cool to the touch. If Lucky hadn't looked at these guns, he might never have known he was carrying them. So perfectly weighted, he couldn't feel them on his hips. "Giddy-up." he smiled.