OOM: Oakville, 1888 -- A few good men, or at least some half-decent ones...

[ikissdhimbck]

By the time she reaches Oakville, it's after sunset and she's been riding all day. The last hints of yellow are fading from the sky, giving way to the pregnant dark blue of an endless night. She hitches Beaut to a post outside the first saloon she happens by, noting the livery stable to the south down the broad way. There's a nice hotel across the street.

But, first things first.

The batwing doors swing open as she steps in, all of five feet, tousled hair, and eyes as hard as diamonds. It ain't like it is in one of them Western ‘moo-vees’ — most folk don't pay her any mind.

Most.