Sawyer is making his second trip across the Great Plains, heading from St. Louis to California. The load on his stagecoach is heavy, even with only two passengers. Ms. Abigail, the aspiring bride of the owner of one of the largest mines in California, had multiple chests full of the things she just had to have. There is barely room inside the stagecoach for the two passengers with all the luggage that had to be stored inside. Lucky Charlotte, his second passenger, only has a few items in a carpetbag.
He has talked to them only briefly during their stops. Mostly, they got their food and set off by themselves to eat before going to bed. Neither has been very friendly with the other, even after riding on the stagecoach together for the last thirteen days. Ms. Abigail looks down on Charlotte's way of earning money, and Charlotte rightly thinks Ms. Abigail is a stuck-up snob. Charlotte has told him that her services were for sale if he wanted to spend his money at night.
It has been a quiet trip so far, just how he likes it. No sign of trouble of any kind. Maybe that is why he is letting his mind wander that day, thinking of how Charlotte walks and her silhouette against the canvas wall of her tent at night before she puts out her lantern. He thinks it might be worth spending some of his hard-earned money for a night with her before the end of the trip when the crack of a rifle jerks him from his thoughts.
He quickly cracks the reins across the back of his six horses to get them running before even looking around to see who might be shooting at them. More shots ring out from the left side of the stagecoach. The bullets are coming close enough that he can hear them snapping as they fly by him. He can see four people on horses coming on hard, aiming their guns and firing as they ride.
He hears Ms. Abigail scream as one of the bullets hits the side of the stagecoach, missing the women but throwing wood chips from the side of the stagecoach in on them. Sawyer slaps the reins against his horses again, glad he has six instead of the usual four. He knows their only chance is if the raiders' horses are already tired, and they can outrun them.
He pulls a six-shooter out of his holster and aims across his body to return fire. Riding on top of the bouncing stagecoach aiming across his body, he knows he doesn't have much chance of hitting any of them. All he is hoping for is to make them duck or, even better, have second thoughts about trying to take them.
He hears more screaming from inside the stagecoach. It seems Ms. Abigail doesn't like the experience of being shot at. He sees one of the horses go down from a shot that wasn't his. Looking back and down, he sees Charlotte pull her hand and gun back inside the stagecoach. Looking back up, he sees that the first horse that went down has taken two others with it, and the last had pulled up to help. Sawyer goes back to pushing more speed out of his horses, knowing that they might get away if he can put enough distance between them before the raiders get back on their horses.
Sawyer spends the rest of the day pushing the horses as hard as he dares, taking them farther north off the trail once out of sight of the raiders so they will have a more challenging time following them if they decide to. Sawyer drives the horses as long as he can, much later into the night than before. Finally, when it is too dark to see, and he is more afraid of breaking one of the horse's legs than the raiders, he pulls them to a stop.
As soon as the stagecoach stops and he jumps down, Charlotte bails out and runs up to him excitedly, "Did you see that shot? Took his horse right out from under him!" she exclaims.
Sawyer hugs her and swings her around her feet, leaving the ground. "Sure did. You most likely saved our lives with that shot," he says as he puts her back down.
Charlotte leans into Sawyer's as he sets her down. The excitement from surviving the day still lights up her eyes as she runs her finger down Sawyer's chest. When Sawyer looks down at her, she pushes up on her toes. She locks her lips onto his, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, determined to take what pleasure she can this night because, as the bullets coming in through the stagecoach had shown, her life could end at any time.
As Sawyer pulls his lips away from Charlotte's, he hears a muffled sound come from the stagecoach and, remembering her, says, "Ms. Abigail," running up to the stagecoach's open door he looks in to see Ms. Abigail clutching one of her bags to her chest, pushed as far back into the corner as she can get. "Ms. Abigail, are you alright? Did you get hit? Do you need help?" he asked.
Ms. Abigail looks at him incredulously, sinking further back into the corner. "You need to get us out of here, Mr. Sawyer. They could be on us at any minute. I almost died today; I can't die. I have too much to live for. I haven't even well, you never mind about that, but you need to get us out of here now," she says in a quiet, high-pitched voice.
Sawyer says, "Ms. Abigail, we have gone as far as we can tonight anymore and risk breaking a horse's leg, then we really will be dead out here."
"But you don't understand, Mr. Sawyer, we must go. I'm to be married, and I haven't even been with a. I need to go," Ms. Abigail replies.
"Well, we stay here until the first light, Ms. Abigail. Now let me help you down," Sawyer replies.
"No, I will stay here until we leave again. I'm not moving. It's safe here," states Ms. Abigail.
"Well, suit yourself, Ms. Abigail. We will be out here if you need us," Sawyer replies.
Shutting the door to the stagecoach, Sawyer turns around and starts walking away, only to have Charlotte jump into his arms, kissing him, pulling him down onto a blanket she had spread out.
Sawyer follows Charlotte down to the blanket, kissing her on the way, ending up on top of her. The memory of the bullets buzzing by his head, the adrenaline pumps into his body, knowing how close of a call it was. All has his body excited, ready for action, like Charlotte's. He knows the thrill of being alive after such a close call has her pulling him to her, biting his lip, and running her tongue into his mouth.
Sawyer begins kissing Charlotte's jaw, running his hands down over her body as she starts to unbutton his vest. She pulls his vest over his shoulders. He quickly takes it the rest of the way off before unbuckling his gun belt. She pulls the gun belt from him, sets it close beside them, and says, "We will just keep this right here close in case we need it."
Sawyer reaches under Charlotte's heavy skirt, grabbing the top of her underclothes and peeling them down her legs, leaving her bare under the dress. Flipping up the skirt, he runs his tongue up the inside of her leg, quickly reaching the apex and running his tongue up her seam.
Charlotte throws back her head and lets out a throaty moan, working on the buttons of her blouse, pulling it farther open with each button she gets. She arches her back, pushing her sex harder into Sawyer's face. Her moans get louder as he consumes her. Getting her last button, she pulls her blouse out of her skirt and stretches it wide, taking it off her shoulders and exposing her plentiful breast to the night air. She is so involved in what Sawyer is doing to her under her skirt that she doesn't even notice that Ms. Abigail has left the stagecoach and is now standing right over her head until she begins to speak.
"What do you think you are doing out here?" she exclaims. "I am a proper woman. I will be married as soon as I get to California. I've never seen a man's naked body, let alone what you are doing out here. I could have died today, untouched, and here you are romping around like animals in heat."
When Ms. Abigail started her tirade, Sawyer stopped what he was doing, pulling his head from between Charlotte's legs. He looked up at Ms. Abigail with a sheepish expression, about to apologize.