She spat blood and grinned.

“Is that all you got, sweetheart?”

The man blinked. He was twice her size, but she hadn’t flinched. Not when he broke the bottle. Not when he swung.

There she stood. Boot on his throat. His lip split wide.

Sheriff’s lights painted the dust red and blue.

“Again, Jessie?” the deputy sighed, stepping out.

She winked. “He touched my sister.”

Boots scraped gravel. Guns stayed holstered.

“Let’s call it self-defense.”

She tipped her hat, walked off into the dark.

Behind her, the bar door creaked. Three girls followed.

Spurs jangling like thunder.