I appreciate your thinking on me, marshal, but ain’t no trouble of his what ain’t trouble of mine, too.
Seems a lot of men never saw one such as me. A girl what could keep up and fight and ride and curse with the best of them. A girl what ain’t trapped in some dress or some house or some bed. A girl what ain’t waiting on some man to do what she ought to her own damn self.
But wasn’t time for what was. Was time to settle up the future.
And in the silence what followed, I reckon our eyes had some long conversation our mouths could’ve never talked through. Some long, looking talk about things gone and long since said. About cries out in the night and some long ago tangling of limbs. And about them betrayals done time and time again—by both of us—what led to me pointing the Green Man’s rifle at the man what once loved me under the Green Man’s stars.
Maybe I’d lost something. Maybe I’d lost a lot—more, even, than I could suffer—but I still had my own self. And lonesome as I might be, wasn’t no force on Earth or from above what could make me less.
But tell you true, I honestly didn’t think nothing about the Green Man beefing that posse. Was just men and the world’s full of them.
wasn’t no bit of me willing to ride shotgun to my own funeral.
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