Orion's Belt - A Dark Sci-Fi Western Romance

It’s the biggest tent in the camp too, with the most comfortable looking bed. I already knew he was the leader of this gang, but the tent confirms his status. I guess I really am under his protection. That might mean the rest of them leave me alone, but what about him? I used to believe in good men. Now I know there’s no such thing. There’s just men who haven’t tried to penetrate me yet. But maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing if it was Orion.

He swats me toward the tent, his big hand catching the seat of my skirt, making me skip a step before turning around and glaring at him. He better not be getting handsy with me already, I think to myself, my prideful temper flaring instantly.

“I’ll cut you if you touch me again, mister.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort, girl.”

“I warned you,” I say. “You put a finger on me without my say so, and I’ll cut you up so bad you won’t know yourself.”

“Quit threatening me, girl. I don’t have any ill-intention toward you. I’m planning on keeping you safe.”

“Sure y’are” I say, skeptical. “I know about men. I know they all want one thing.”

“Girlie, if I wanted that one thing, I wouldn’t be getting it from a scrap I just pulled off the tracks,” he drawls, reaching out and tapping my nose with a rough forefinger.

Now I’m insulted, but I can’t say so, or else I’ll sound like I was just being a flirt.

“You criminals are all the same, aren’t you. Guess you only take your pleasures from the saloon girls in their fine dresses that go up all the way.”

“Don’t you worry where I get my pleasure,” he snorts. “Get in my tent.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so,” he says, repeating that swat. It lands hard against my ass, making my butt and my pride sting at the same time.

“That’s it. I’m gonna cut you.”

I’ve gone mad, threatening Orion Steelbane like this, but truth is, I’m scared as hell. If he does try anything with me, I already know I won’t be able to take it. I’ve had too much rough handling recently to be able to consider countenancing physical connection with any man.

Orion

She’s feisty. I’m guessin’ she’s had to be. But the reason I want her in my tent is simple. She’s not wrong about the male gazes she’s getting from some of the others. I leave a girl out in the open, others are liable to start thinking she’s fair game. Especially given her dress is damn near about to fall off her thanks to all the rough handling.

I follow her into the tent and pull out some clothes that were left behind by a young man who used to ride with us. He never got over 5’6, and he was slim as a whistle, so I reckon they’ll fit her even if they’re not to her liking.

“Change into these,” I say, expecting an argument. “Yer dress got caught on the railway tracks, and you don’t want to be walking around with your bits and pieces hanging out.”

“Thank you,” she says.

Huh. How about that. No fight. I turn around and let her get changed. I hear rustling, and know that she must be stripping herself down. Can’t say as I’m not tempted to look, but though I’m no gentleman, I am a man of my word. She’s under my protection. I ain’t go to violate her.

“Alright. I’m done.”

When I turn around, she’s decent, wearing britches and a shirt which fits her in the waist, but not quite in the chest. She’s had to leave the top couple of buttons open and the ones below are strained in a way that’d be indecent if this were a Sunday School, but it ain’t.

“Just need this,” I say, pulling a hat from the same place in the trunk. It’s black, wide brimmed, and when I put it on her head it immediately sinks down over her eyes. She has to push it back up high to look at me with those dark eyes which hold far too many secrets for a woman her age.

I want to get the story of how she came to be tied to the tracks out of her. That’s not usually something done to a woman, let alone a young and pretty one. That’s the sort of fate reserved for a man who has done real wrong. I’m assuming it has something to do with a lover.

“So, what happened?” I ask.

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I mean, how come I just had to cut you off the tracks?”

“I was tied there, and a train was fixing to hit me.”

I snort. She’s got criminal DNA in her, of that much I’m absolutely certain. She evades the truth like it’s coming for her with a noose. It might very well be. There’s more than a few of us in this camp who’re running from the lawman’s rope.