Tess Mercury and the Wanton Wife
Or How Tess Mercury met Lightning Hazel
By Eleanor Prophet
Copyright 2013 by Eleanor Prophet
www.ellieprophet.wordpress.com
“You Tess Mercury?”
I swiped the back of my hand across my face to wipe away the moist, stray strands of dark hair sticking to my forehead. The sun beat down on the barren Arizona desert. I squinted through the sweat dripping into my eyes from under the bandana covering my sopping hair.
The man coming towards me across the packed, well-worn dirt of the horse corral shimmered in the heat coming off the ground like the devil come to offer me my wildest dreams in exchange for my immortal soul. He had a pointy black goatee and was dressed in a black suit and top hat. He looked as unruffled in the dusty, sweltering heat as the Prince of Darkness watching the sinners burn in the lake of fire. He stepped through the tall, peeling white gate around the corral as though it had yielded to him without moving at all. I’d seen his kind before. They always meant trouble.
“That ain’t my name no more,” I drawled.
“You’re Tess Mercury? The bounty hunter?” He looked at me over the gleaming back of Chantilly Lady as I carefully fastened the straps of her saddle. He didn't look especially impressed, but all men were like that when they met me for the first time.
“I told you; that ain’t my name. I don’t do that no more. I’m retired.”
Ah, hell. It was too late.
“It’s Tess Mercury!”
An explosive noise from behind me sent me flat on my stomach on the dirt-packed ground, but it wasn’t a gunshot I’d heard. The stable door flew open, and a tall, wiry man in faded, dirty chaps raced past us through the corral, startling the wranglers. The horses tossed their heads and danced nervously in place. He leapt effortlessly over the fence surrounding the corral and pelted toward the cactus-strewn desert beyond.
I cursed and leapt to my feet, racing past the startled wranglers and their charges after the fleeing fugitive. I drew my pistol from under my poncho, but it was no good. He’d escaped over the tall fence surrounding the Jagged J Ranch, into the vast and endless wilderness beyond. I cursed angrily, kicking the ground and sending a shower of dust towards the devil in the black suit.
“This better be good,” I growled. “I’ve been here a week after that fella. That was Yellow Conway. He’s wanted for stage-coach robbery. The price on his head is two hundred dollars, which you just lost for me.”
The devil smirked. “How about twice that?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, all right, I’ll hear ya out.”
My former cowboy comrades from the Jagged J Ranch weren’t so keen on me once they’d found out who I really was, but it didn’t make no difference. Sweeping the stables at a hot, dirty horse ranch wasn’t exactly my dream job, anyway. I ordered a whiskey and sat beside the devil at the bar at Miss Mary’s saloon. He told me his name was John Harley, but I wasn’t sure he was telling me the truth. It was all the same to me.
“What do you want, Harley?” I demanded, slamming my glass on the beaten wooden bar in front of me.
“My wife, Hazel, has run off.” His accent was strange, flat and oddly hissing, but I didn’t recognize it. I suspected he might be putting it on a bit, but I didn’t much care if he’d come from Hell itself. He wasn’t from around here, anyway. I wondered how he’d found me, but that didn’t really matter much, either. If they couldn’t find me, they probably didn’t really need me., and if they could...well, they were more likely as not someone who ought not to be reckoned with too lightly.
“Yeah? What’s that got to do with me?”
“I need you to find her.”
“I don’t normally do stuff like that. I hunt fugitives, not runaway brides. Call the police or a private eye.”
Harley’s mouth twisted unhappily. “I’ve done that, and they tried, but my Hazel–well, she ain’t a normal lady.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“What sort of lady is she?”
“Not much of a lady at all. They call her Lightning Hazel. She’s a scientist, and she’s fond of chemicals. I sent a few Pinkertons on her tail, but they all came back with nothing ,more than some fresh burns. They recommended I find you.”
I sighed and motioned for another round of drinks. “Where’d you last see her?”
“They said she’s been holed up in Fortune City, New Mexico. A saloon called The Ace-High.”
I smirked. “A drinkin’ lady, huh? If you know where she is, why don’t you just go get her yourself?”
He frowned. “I tried. She won’t come with me.”
“You want me to hogtie her or somethin‘?”
“If you have to.”
I considered him in interest. “What’d you want her back for, anyway? Sounds like she ain’t much of a wife.“
He lifted his chin with great dignity. “She may not be much of a wife, but she’s mine.”
I smiled. “Yeah, all right. Four hundred dollars, you say?”
“That’s right.”
“Ok. You got yourself a deal. But you pay up front. I ain‘t losin‘ another bounty today.”
Tess Mercury and the Wanton Wife Page 1