dress with tiny roses stitched into the bust, Victoria stepped back out onto the street. Her gunfighter outfit hung from a clothesline in her room, dripping dark circles onto the floorboards. She'd made a point of strapping her gun belt around the waist of her dress, no matter how silly it made her look. Judging from the glances and stares passersby tossed her way, it must have made her look very silly indeed. She hurried toward the saloon.
Pushing through the batwing doors, Victoria found Cora propped up behind the bar. A few tables were occupied by the town's layabouts and drunkards as they bet away what money they had on hands of poker. Victoria thought she saw the man called Wilson seated at one of the games, but he made a point not to make eye contact. In fact, all of the men seemed slightly unsettled about her presence in the saloon. Their conversations were muted, as if they were afraid of her overhearing.
Victoria smiled to herself as she walked up to the bar. Let them fret; they had good reason to fear her now. The weight of the gun around her waist made her saunter a bit as she walked over to the bar.
Cora offered her a lazy wave. "Ain't you all slicked up and back to your fancy self?"
"I'd say the same, but..." Victoria replied, trailing off. In truth, she couldn't tell if Cora had washed up at all. The hunter's leathery face looked much the same as it had that morning, and all of the clothes Victoria had seen her wear were stained from years of use.
"I'm always fancy," Cora said. Her braid flipped over her shoulder as she tossed her head. "Now, then, we got a lot to do and not much time to get it done."
"What shall we do first?"
"Come on upstairs for a spell. I got some tools of the trade stashed away up there."
Victoria followed the hunter to the back of the saloon. Their boots thumped in unison on the worn stairs. Behind them, the hushed conversations rose in volume, and Victoria smiled again.
The stairs ended at a balcony that encircled the entire bar. Cora led her down one side, passing three doors before opening a fourth. Victoria gave the men below one last glance before following the hunter into the small room beyond.
"Home sweet home," Cora said, waving her arm in a semi-circle.
Victoria took two small steps into the room, taking stock of the little place Cora Oglesby called her own. It wasn't much. A bed dressed with rough linen sheets stood beneath the room's sole window. Beneath their feet, a hide rug faded with sunlight and the tread of Cora's boots covered much of the floor. Standing at attention opposite the bed was a dresser hewn from unfinished wood. A collection of books sat on top of it, their spines facing outward invitingly. They looked to be old and well-loved; Victoria could not make out the titles on some of them.
"I never pictured you as an avid reader," she remarked, nodding at the collection.
"I ain't," Cora said. The hunter did not explain further, and Victoria felt it wiser not to ask. Instead, she waited in silence as the hunter rummaged through the top drawer of the dresser. After a few moments, Cora turned back to her.
"First, you're going to put these in your bag and never let them get away from you." Cora held up two vials of clear liquid.
Victoria reached for her satchel. Her hand brushed against her dress before she remembered that she had left it in her hotel room. Blushing at her own forgetfulness, she took the vials from the old hunter and examined them.
"Holy water," Cora explained. "Blessed by a Catholic priest. That stuff is like boiling hot tar to vampires and other critters of dark. Ain't rightly sure how it will fare against that squaw witch, but it should at least get her wet."
"I can't see how that would be to our advantage."
Cora shrugged. "We got to make do with what we got." She reached into the drawer again and produced a handful of small white objects.
"What are they?" Victoria asked, but her nose answered before Cora did.
"Garlic. Keeps vampires out of your hair while you sleep. Ain't much use as a weapon, but them suckers can't stand being around it. No, I don't got any idea why they take such a disliking to it, but they do."
Victoria took the cloves in her free hand, careful