Walking just under Lubbock, Cindy walked the sandy path in the middle of nowhere. The harsh sunlight practically poured down on her, causing sweat to pile up under her clothes during this trek. She wore a wide-brimmed hat, and albeit her hat served great shade for her face, Cindy still managed to sweat buckets.
A stranger approached with nary a care, the soft metallic clinking of his spurs sounding with each step he took. He adjusted his hat to lower the rays of the sun getting into his eyes, his brown duster gently swaying in the soft breeze blowing across the area. Upon seeing the young blonde, he called out to her.
"I heard that someone 'ere is lookin' to play. That be you?"
Cindy turned around to face the man approaching, Cindy raised a hand, flicking the flat panel of her hat upward. Her green eyes just watched him, and then, she reached around the back of her belt, resting a thumb on her pistol.
"And you heard that from where?" Cindy's lips cracked a smirk, "I was just out 'ere findin' a buck to shoot."
The stranger merely kept his gaze fixed on her, taking notice of the hand reaching behind her, to which he knew she had it on a weapon.
"You went an' left a notice on the bulletin in town," he reminded her, and then looked around at the clearly empty area, "It's also known that no bucks are in this area. This place only has hogs 'n' boars, so unless you're lookin' to get yourself gored...you were waiting on someone to 'rrive."
Cindy scoffed, a grin widening along her lips from ear-to-ear in the process.
"Whatever, punk! The only buck I need to shoot 'round 'ere is you, ain't it?"
At that remark, Cindy pulled out her pistol in a heartbeat, aiming it directly at the man ahead. Cindy took a small step towards him, and then started to slowly circle, all whilst her eyes kept watch of him. Shoulder-length blonde locks gently danced with the breeze.
"Hah! You think I need you out 'ere to help protect me from the boars? I heard they're a nice meal once caught! You think a girl like me can't handle the hunt?"
Not showing any sign of fear, he merely chortled.
"You think this is my first time getting a gun drawn on me? This situation doesn't bother me none...for reasons."
His hand blurred down to his holster, his body whipping around on reflex, and launched a shot which missed her...but hit his actual target which was a charging boar that had been upwind of her. The bullet hitting it square between the eyes, causing the beast to drop and skid before stopping at her feet. Twirling his gun in his hand, he set it back into his holster.
"Right, you handled yourself really good with that boar behind ya," he mocked.
Cindy glanced over her shoulder, finding the boar down behind her legs. It was a large, black, lean animal with small tusks curled at both sides of its snout. A long, drawn-out huff escaped her lips. Green eyes merely rolled in contempt.
"Of course, I just like bein' belittled by men and told I can't handle any situation by myself," she stated in a groan, seconds before she averted her gaze over to him once more.
Lips still smirked. While her arm was still drawn out, Cindy raised the pistol a little higher, soon shooting a bullet at his hat. Slipping her pistol back into the holster on her belt, Cindy drew closer to this man.
"So, what do ya want, cowboy? You waitin' for a matin' call or somethin'? One reason to impress a girl is when you want to bed 'er," she assumed, quirking a blonde brow in the process.
He didn't flinch when she let off a shot at his hat, which hit, but it only blew the hat off of his head. The man turned, picked up the hat and placed it back atop his noggin.
"Jus' wonderin' 'bout that bulletin you pinned up in town. If it's jus' a job you be needin' done, then I may help with that," he stated, his eyes gazing down at her green hues, "'Sides, not like you be needin' a man for courtin' see'n as how you can 'handle' yourself jus' fine," he teased, taking the moment to ruffle his duster.
Cindy placed a hand onto his shoulder while she looked at his face.
"I don't even know your name, buck. Seems like you know the Great Plains, huh? I took on a bunch o' bandits earlier on today, earned myself a rifle," she mentioned.
Green orbs glanced him downward and then up, observing his outfit and toned, broad figure. Cindy herself was clad in a long-sleeved cropped shirt, along with a pair of denim shorts, and brown boots that covered her calves. The hat she wore was wide-brimmed, wide enough to block the harsh rays of the sun from hitting her face.
"Today I lost my horse, she was shot when I was fightin' the bandits. So, I sent the nearest stranger to put up a note for me back at the saloon. Surprises me that trick even worked! I jus' need a ride home, that's all."
He listened carefully to what she had to say, keeping quiet while she told her tale, though he started to pick at some spots in the tale itself.
"That sounds like it would really stink like shit. Be'in stuck out in the middle 'o nowhere without a horse," he then looked her over, and then around, "Normally when someone goes against bandit's they have more than jus' a pistol on them. Also, you goin' against bandits just out of nowhere...sounds to me like ya were collectin' a bounty on one of 'em," He assumed, "I wonder how far these bandits be out from the nearest town?"
"Just up passed Armarillo," she informed him of the bandit's location, but then placed a hand onto her hip, leaning into the palm, "I took care of 'em, so don't worry about that, buck. Those bandits are long gone now. But if ya offerin' to give me a ride home, I live in Irving," she stated, offering a wink, "You can call me Cindy. CIndy Silver Buckle is what Irving knows me as." She gave her name.
"Irving, right."
Her hand patted his shoulder, seconds before she started to walk away from him.
"How long have ya been cruisin' the lands for, huh? It'd probably take a day or two to reach Irving anyways, so we could always camp and cook the boar ya shot."
The fact she didn't correct him about her being out there to collect a bounty pretty much summed it up for him in his mind. As Cindy started to walk away, his eyes couldn't help but travel down towards her perky rear which swayed from side to side with every step she took. With a mental preparation, he strode forward, pulling his bowie knife out of its holster, walking up to the boar and began to cape and quarter the beast. When he was done around twenty minutes later, he placed all the meat into a goodie bag, then headed for his horse. Climbing up into the saddle, he helped Cindy up onto the back of it.
"Th' names Merono. Just call me 'Rono, for short," he introduced himself finally.
After a snap of the reins, the horse took off in the direction of Irving. The ride was calm, not too much hassle on the roads, dust kicking up as the golden pearl steed ran along the path.
Cindy draped her arms around his torso while she sat behind him on the saddle. From here onward, passing places would include the Midlands, which was a few hours from Lubbock on a horse.
"Merono, huh? Sounds Mexican," she quipped, "It's nice to meet ya, 'Rono. Sundown won't be far from now, so we should probably make camp before it gets dark, don't ya think? Hey, just thinkin' about our safety, and ya horse!"
"I think it's Canadian. Ma always told me that my Grandaddy was from Canada, but moved down to Texas for work opportunities that didn't leave ya mauled by bears," he informed her.
Cindy leaned her head forward, tilting her head to one side in the process. Fortunately her wide-brimmed hat never blew off during the ride, but at times Cindy had to hold onto it to keep it in place.
"So, Merono, have ya ever slept with a woman you didn't pay for?" Cindy questioned, tongue-in-cheek, "I won't judge!"
He remembered the layout of the map he had studied before riding out his way, and pulled off the road into a thicket of trees that made for a decent, and protective grove. A small clearing sat by the water, which he came to a stop.
"Whoa, whoa," he called out, the steed coming to a stop, "I think we'll make camp here."
Merono dismounted from the horse, shortly before helping Cindy off.
"As to answer your question from b'fore, I don't partake in pleasures of the flesh. 'Specially from some town floozy who has God knows what in diseases from her holes bein' poked everyday," he then turned his attention to the blonde, "Ya seem interested...you makin' an offering?" Merono asked with a sly smirk of his own.
"What made ya think that, buck? I was only askin'. I guess men will always hear what they wanna hear," she teased.
Being outside in the forest always had its perks, aside from any risks such as getting eaten alive during a nightly slumber or getting attacked by potential passing Indians that could have settled in this land before. But Cindy didn't think anyone even lived out in these woods. There were no houses around, not even sheds or huts. No stable in sight, either. Cindy picked up logs of wood along the way, finding an odd two or three laying around, having dropped from trees during past storms and windy days. Nearing a spot near the stream, Cindy dumped the logs into a neat pile.
"Ya got a match on ya? I only carry 'em when I can afford the smokes," she mentioned, "I remember when the Sheriff back in Irving always advised folks to carry matches, but I never really listened to him."
Merono went about getting the bag of meat as Cindy gathered wood for the fire, dumping them into a pile while he walked over, giving her a small tinder box of matches.
"Try not to waste 'em, they'll be useful for later."
Getting around to setting up a small grill stand to cook meat on, Merono worked like a professional. Once the fire was lit and roaring, Merono placed the stand around the fire, allowing it to heat up before taking two chunks of meat and placing them onto the grill, grabbing another bag containing salt, and sprinkling a bit over the slabs. The sizzling as the meat began to cook, along with the aroma rising from the fire.
"Other than murderin' bandits, what sort of life you lead back in Irving?" Merono questioned.
Cindy thought about what she could do for a living back in her hometown, Cindy held a great secret to what she usually did, but she wasn't just going to outright tell a stranger of what she did out in the canyon on a daily basis.
"I'm a ranchhand back at home," she lied, handing over information of the job she quit years ago, "I milk the cows; castrate the bulls, herd the sheep - that kinda thing."