And looky what I have here! Have I mentioned how great it feels to be writing again?

Enjoy my wonderful readers! :)

Chapter 2 What a Crazy Idea

The following day, Mayor Prescott got what he'd requested, and Tennessee joined the hare family for lunch at his ranch. It served as a nice little haven just outside of town. At the center of the great expanse of land stood the stately house. And adjacent to it, a corral, and a towering windmill right next to the barn. As the gunslinger jumped out of the carriage that brought them over, he admired the setting, whistling as he adjusted his hat.

One of the mayor's many friends had been at the reins. The woodchuck dismounted the patched gelding and petted the equine along its cream-colored mane. "You go on ahead inside. I'll be in after I take this'n to the barn. He knows he gets hay every time we pay Mr. Prescott a visit and now he expects it, don't ya fella?" The horse stamped one of its hooves, as if in confirmation, and the woodchuck laughed.

Tennessee nodded, tipping his hat with a smile. "Much obliged for lettin' me hitch a ride with ya out here," he said before making his way to the front door of the mayor's house.

When he entered, he was greeted by Lou Ann, their housekeeper and live-in nanny, and the mayor's energetic son. Only it was the young boy who reached him first. "T.C's here! He's here!" Carson hollered excitedly, squeezing one of Tennessee's legs in a tight hug.

"Well howdy!" Tennessee said in return, grinning as he hugged him back, patting the young hare on the head. "Ya lookin' much better than ya did last time I seen ya."

"I feel better too!" the little one chirped in a cheerful voice, racing around the raccoon in circles. "I feel like I could run all the way to town and back!"

His mother right on his heels, she appeared in the doorway that led to the dining room. "The only place you're goin' is to the table to eat, young man. Now I know you're excited, but remember what the doctor said," she worriedly reminded. "Ya need to stay rested up so you'll be all better. You're not there yet." As she herded him towards the doorway that connected the dining and living room, she looked over her shoulder at Tennessee. "I'm sorry, he's been lookin' forward to you visitin' all mornin'."

Tennessee chuckled and gave a lighthearted smile. "Shucks ma'am, nothin' to be sorry about. Can't remember the last time anyone was excited to see me."

"Ahh there he is!"

The father hare stepped into view from around the corner. He walked over and placed his hands on Tennessee's shoulders. "Glad ya could make it, son. Come on, the table's all set, sit wherever ya like."

Tennessee followed the hare family into the dining room, silently looking over all the expensive decorations and knick-knacks they owned. He slid into the nearest chair at the large table and removed his hat. They waited for the woodchuck to join them, and then lunch commenced, and they all dug in to the delicious meal.

No one had gotten more than a few bites in when a knock came at the door. Lou Ann hurried away to answer the door. Upon returning, she had three more guests trailing behind. "The Whitlockes are here, Mr. Prescott," the prairie dog announced.

Food was instantly forgotten about as Tennessee's eyes flashed up in great interest, watching an older male raccoon standing in the doorway. On either side of him were the two ringtailed beauties from the day before.

"Afternoon, Virgil, girls," Dan said to the raccoon family. "Ya'll come on in and sit down." Virgil nodded, tipping his hat and took seat next to the other. They quickly fell into conversation about the mysterious fire that had burned their beloved schoolhouse to charred bits.

While this ensued, both girls spotted the handsome newcomer at the other side of the table. Sarah, the younger, gasped in delight, biting her lip and tucking a curled lock of black hair behind an ear. "Well if it isn't the courageous masked hero?" She cocked a hip and placed a gloved hand over her heart. "What a nice surprise."

Cheyenne looked…altogether disinterested. The older of the two sisters quietly sank into a seat across from Tennessee. Sarah, not one to be ignored, strolled right over and sat down next to Tennessee, a very coquettish look on her striking face. "I'm so glad you and Carson made it out safely. I know I told ya before, but I've never seen anyone do somethin' so brave," she complimented. "You're really somethin'."

Tennessee humbly shrugged and forced a nervous chuckle. "I'm really not all that, now. Just couldn't stand by and watch when I knew I could do somethin' to help."

Sarah nodded, batting her long lashes. "Well that's so admirable. This town could really use more guys like you, T.C. Tell me, how long you plannin' on stickin' around?"

He shrugged a second time, gaze dropping to the food still on his plate. But he did chance a glance at Sarah's not-so-talkative sister. "Not long. I'm just passin' through."

A very sudden look of disappointment crossed Sarah's face. "Oh…" Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her face lit back up, eyes sparkling. "Well, in that case, ya gotta let us show you a good time while you're here."

"A good time, eh?" he said, but in his mind, he was laughing. Let me guess, he thought. A square dance, a few drinks at the bar, a show at your local saloon? It was the same just about everywhere he went.

But despite what he already knew would be on the agenda, an agenda he most likely wouldn't be around to participate in, he still nodded, giving Sarah a quick wink. "Sounds mighty nice."

Throughout the afternoon, more visitors had made it to the Prescott's ranch: Adam and Tucker. The older genet had come over for the weekly poker game the mayor played with all his friends. Tucker, having been dreading the boring afternoon ahead, was thrown for a loop when he saw the masked gunslinger, seeming deep in thought as he leaned against a fence post, arms folded atop the sturdy wood, watching the cattle graze in the field ahead.

"T.C.!" Tucker called excitedly as he sprinted towards him.

Tennessee turned, smiling brightly and tipping his hat. "Hey there, Son. Good to see ya!"

"You too, sir!"

It didn't take long for the young teen to bring up the little offer the raccoon had made about partaking in target practice with that shiny rifle of his. Never one to go back on his word, Tennessee gladly agreed and took him way out into a far corner of the ranch that wasn't inhabited by guests or livestock, showing him how to aim, all the while reminding him how important it was to be careful when handling a loaded gun.

A little while later, the two wandered back over to the corral, where Tennessee practiced his lassoing moves, while Tucker watched on in amazement, whooping loudly when the raccoon would successfully rope a calf and then release it again. And unbeknownst to him, the ladies gathered on the porch watched, impressed not only by his roping skills, but by his willingness to spend time with the youngster and not seem annoyed. On the contrary; he looked to be enjoying himself quite a bit.

"Just look at him, will ya?" Molly said. "Sure is a natural with kids."

"I know," Sarah sighed with a dreamy smile, raven hair rustling in the wind. "Brave, handsome, kind, great with kids. Golly he's the whole package!"

"Don't know if Johnny would appreciate you sayin such as that," Cheyenne quietly uttered.

Sarah's eyes never left Tennessee, watching the ringtailed gentleman giving Tucker pointers as the young genet gave a go at roping the rambunctious calf in the corral.

"But Johnny ain't here, now is he?" Sarah said, an impish gleam in her green eyes.

The other ladies stifled giggles at such a bold remark.

Cheyenne quickly fell silent, listening as they spoke amongst themselves about the charming stranger in their midst. It didn't sit right with her. Just because he was friendly and handsome and helpful and charismatic, that wasn't reason enough to fawn over him. She had a hunch he was simply here to cause trouble.

Before long, she'd picked up one of her favorite books and retreated out to a shady little spot near the back of the house. There, a fair-sized tree grew beside a rock that was just flat enough to sit upon. She got comfortable on the rock, sitting cross-legged as she opened her book and quickly lost herself in the story. So absorbed in her tale was she that she didn't notice someone sauntering up.

"You're not really the social type, are ya?"

Startled, she jumped, looking up from her book with a scowl to see the ringtailed gunslinger, leaning over the fence in a display of nonchalance.

She looked back down at her book. "Talk's cheap. If ya have somethin' important to say, then I'll listen."

Tennessee hummed, eyes gleaming in fascination. "Well I don't really have much to say, but I do have somethin' to give. It belongs to you."

Her gaze lifted to meet his again, and she frowned, confused. "Me?"

Clearing the wooden fence with ease, he made his way over, pulling a blue hair ribbon from his pocket and holding it out to her. "And can I say, I think your hair's a thing o' beauty, even if it's not all done up to the nines like your sister's."

She hesitated, not really giving him as animated a reaction as he would've liked.

"Thank you," she mumbled, accepting the ribbon. With her hair already pulled back, she didn't have much use for it at the moment, so she stuck in in her book, deciding the frilly accessory could serve as a decent bookmark for now.

"My pleasure," he replied, taking seat on the rock next to her. "Ya got a nice little town here," he complimented. "Small, but folks seem friendly enough."

"Most are, but some ya gotta watch out for."

"Well, ya gotta do that everywhere sadly." When she didn't respond, he carried right on. "So uh, tell me, you and your folks travel or have ya lived here all your life or—"

"T.C.," said Cheyenne, sparing him another look, but this one was conflicted and looked almost...sad somehow. "You can drop the pretense now. I know what you're tryin' to do."

"Oh?" This ought to be good.

She gave a small shake of her head. "I'm well aware I'm not the looker my sister is. She's the object of every single guy's affection that meets her. And even a few that are attached. I've lost count of how many times guys come around and try to get on my good side just to get closer to Sarah. If someone gave me gold everytime it happened, I'd be richer than the mayor himself. Ya don't have to do this, ya already caught her eye. Leave me be. Please."

His face fell at hearing this. "Miss Cheyenne, if I wanted to talk to yer sister, I'd be over there talkin' to her right now. I don't wanna talk to her. I wanna talk to you."

She blinked dumbly, staring back at him, clearly puzzled. "Wh…why?"

He shrugged. "I need a reason to wanna talk to a pretty lady like you?"

She quickly averted her gaze, pulling a strand of long brown hair over her face to hide the blush she could feel pooling in her cheeks. But she wouldn't fall for his smooth talk, she'd heard it all before. Far too many times.

"Look, I appreciate you bein' nice to me and all, really. But I'm just not in the business of makin' new friends…sorry." She shut her book, tucked it under her arm, and retreated back to the house.

He watched the guarded female leave, his mind ablaze with questions. Why was she so frigid? Was it from assuming the role of eldest sibling? Had some jerk toyed around with her heart, left her with scars? Or was it something else altogether?

His musings were interrupted by someone a little more eager for his company. "There ya are. Been lookin' for you, handsome. Whatcha doin' out here in the sticks?"

He looked up to see Sarah, jewelry glimmering on both wrists and around her neck, not a single lock of hair out of place.

"Just gettin' some fresh air," he answered.

She smiled a flirtatious smile and took him by the arm. "Well, come on, let's go inside. Everyone's wantin' to hear about how ya saved little Carson from the fire. And I'd very much like to get to know you a little better myself, T.C."

He chuckled. "Shucks, Miss Sarah. I told ya, I really ain't no one special…"

"I'll be the judge of that, Mister."

He didn't answer. Instead, he glanced back in the direction Cheyenne had left.

Now Miss Sarah, she was an open book, ready to tell all. But her older sister? She was a mystery to the gunslinger.

A guarded, fiery, breathtaking little mystery.

[][][]

Later that night, when the moon was high in the sky, Tennessee slipped out of the local motel he was staying at, and went for a little stroll. To the place he'd been scouting since his first day here.

The bank.

He kept to the shadows all the while, his most trusted of friends. It wasn't as though there were that many folks awake at this hour. But in case the occasional night owl was out and about, he knew it best to err on the side of caution.

Little did he know, a pair of eyes had been watching him from the very moment he'd left the motel.

The trek to the bank was somewhat of a lengthy one, but his excitement hadn't diminished one bit in the time it took him to reach the large building. The size of the place was something he expected. What he didn't expect? To be late to the party.

One of the front windows had been smashed, pretty violently from the looks of it, shards of glass scattered across the ground below.

"What in tarnation?" he muttered, leaping through the jagged opening. Landing in a crouch, he crept through the front room, but he stopped, unable to do anything except stare in horror at the sight that lay before him.

Several lawmen lay sprawled across the floor, motionless, dark red blood splattering their chests. Most lay with their eyes closed, but a few were not so fortunate; their eyes wide open, but stolen was the life that once resided within them.

The raccoon shut his own eyes tight, shaking his head at the gruesome sight, heart twisting up like a corkscrew. This was not the right way to go about breaking the law, as oxymoronic as the notion sounded. Riches could be swiped without lives being taken. This was on a completely different level.

A level he never wanted to be on, as long as he lived.

He hurried to the vault door. Confirming his grim suspicions, the door was standing open, another poor soul standing guard dead on the floor next to the vault's now open entrance. He removed his hat and regarded the fallen guard with a solemn look before closing his eyes and bowing his head, the best way he could think of to show some sort of respect to all the men who'd lost their lives tonight. Then he pressed on.

Easing his hat back atop his head, Tennessee searched the entire vault, shocked to find that it was completely empty. Not a single bill or coin to be seen. Whoever this robber was, he certainly wasn't one to be trifled with.

"I knew you were gonna be trouble. I really do hate it when I'm right."

Whirling around, Tennessee's gaze settled on the angry masked eyes glaring back at him.

"Well howdy, Ms. Whitlocke. Mighty fine seein' you again."

"The feelin's not mutual," she hissed back.

He held a finger up to her. "Now now, before you go tryin' to piece things together on your own, just hold on a second."

She stalked forward, baring her teeth in a snarl. "I'm done listenin' to your prattle. Got everyone 'round here tricked into believin' that you're some kinda gallivantin' hero." She jabbed a clawed finger at his face. "But I know exactly what you are. You're a vile, low-down despicable, murderous thief!"

The gunslinger blinked back with a casual smirk, unfazed. "Think so?"

"Why else would you be sneakin' around the bank at night?! Only someone up to no good would be doin' somethin' like that!"

Tipping his hat back, he tossed a charming grin her way. "And yet, you're here too."

She froze in place a moment. Caught off guard, she started to sputter, her expression even angrier now as she stepped forward. "'Cause I was followin' you! I saw you sneak out while I was gettin' ready for bed. I live in town and the window from my room gives me a perfect view of the motel."

Now that musta' been a lovely sight, he thought to himself as he politely listened on. Such a shame I missed it.

"Newcomers got no buinsess sneakin' around town. Especially after the sun goes down. You've got a hidden agenda and I'm gon' find out what it is, mark my words."

"Well consider 'em marked then," he answered, his tone as calm and comfortable as could be, voice falling off his tongue like silk.

She growled as he went on.

"I can certainly see why you'd be suspicious, not knowin' me and all. But I'm tellin' you, I had nothin' to do with this. I don't kill folk, that's not how I play."

"You're a dirty liar! I don't believe you for a minute."

"If I was deranged enough to kill folk, why would I've saved that little fella who was caught in the schoolhouse fire?"

"To get in good graces with the mayor, o' course!"

"We'd never met before that day, and ya can ask him yourself. I had no idea that was his son trapped in there, but if I was a low-down murderer, like ya seem to believe, why would I risk my life to save someone else?"

"I…I-I don't know! But I know you're up to no good! Last thing we need in this town is some spineless crook pokin' his nose where it don't belong!"

"I ain't stolen a single coin from this bank. I don't have quite enough arms to carry everything they could fit in here. And if I was clever enough to clean out this vault in such a timely manner, don't ya think I'd be smart enough to know not to stick around after the dirty work?" When she fell silent, he swiftly hammered another nail into his argument, pointing up to the ceiling. "And, I dunno if ya noticed, but there's a gapin' hole in the roof. That someone clearly used to make their escape."

Cheyenne's stare of disbelief locked on the large hole in the vault ceiling. Whatever had created the hole was powerful enough to cause serious damage.

Tennessee knelt down and picked up bits of charred bits of metal and ash. He rubbed his fingers together, watching the ashes slip between them. "Dynamite," he concluded, standing back up and studying the hole in the roof. "That musta' been the sound I heard…"

Cheyenne frowned, trying to wrap her head around the situation. "I…heard it too…we don't have none of that stuff around here."

"And ya didn't see me luggin' it around with me, did ya?"

That seemed to satisfy her thirst for logic and her posture relaxed. Barely. "Alright…you got a point there. But I still don't trust you."

He shrugged. "I can respect that. Trust ain't somethin' you should run around handin' out to any ol' fella. Save it for someone who deserves it." He turned and began to walk further into the vault. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go see if the culprit left any other telltale clues behind."

While Tennessee looked for clues, Cheyenne went on a search of her own and quickly located her family's section of the bank vault. A small section with not much to offer but what lay there was extremely important to her. She frowned at the busted lock. When she opened the door, her breath immediately left her throat. "No!" she whispered.

Coming up empty on his clue hunt, Tennessee rounded a corner, brow furrowed at seeing Cheyenne, a small metal box in her hands. She looked down at it sadly, shoulders slumping.

He never did like to see a pretty lady upset. Frowning in concern, he crept closer. Fingertips barely grazing her shoulder, he spoke up. "Miss Cheyenne? What is it?"

She tensed when she felt his touch and she shut her eyes tightly, afraid to open them again, paralyzed by the fear of crying in front a stranger.

Even though, he was, admittedly…a rather attractive one.

"There wasn't even much in there. Why couldn't they leave this one be?!" she whispered roughly.

Tennessee glanced down at the empty box. "Was this…yours?"

She huffed, not looking his way. "My family's," she corrected. "Wasn't much, just some gold and the deed to our house. And…a necklace."

He patiently waited for her to explain further, but before too long, he gently pressed further. "I'm guessin' it was real special to ya?"

She nodded, but still refused to look at him, misty eyes cast down. "It belonged to my mother, and her mother, and her mother before her. That thing's been in our family for generations." She traced the box's interior, as if it would magically bring it back. "It's given to the first daughter to marry, on her wedding day." She shook her head, ears lowered pitifully. "Sarah's gonna be heartbroken, she's waited years to wear it…" Why the hell was she sharing all this with him?! She'd said it herself; he couldn't be trusted. "Doesn't matter…" she muttered. "It's gone now."

"I can help ya get it back," Tennessee offered after a few beats of silence. "And everything else that was in this vault. I mean, to the best o' my ability, that is. But I'll make sure we find your necklace."

She scoffed, setting the box down with a little more force than necessary. "Sure. Comin' outta nowhere, perfectly fine with puttin' yourself in danger for someone you don't even know. Makes heaps o' sense to me."

"Well, I did do that the other day," he reminded, leaning against the vault wall in a relaxed manner.

She finally looked back at him, and this time, anger wasn't swirling about in the pools of sapphire, though suspicion was definitely still present. And maybe a splash of curiosity?

She tilted her head, subtly looking him up and down. "So you are some kind of crazy hero then."

"I don't flatter myself with titles and such," he answered, shrugging. "But when there's a wrong that needs rightin'…well, I guess you could say I'm the guy for the job. And yea, I guess you could say I'm a little crazy. Too much normalcy just ain't that exctin' to me." Just then, a lone object on the floor caught his eye. He knelt down and picked it up, examining it closely, his brow furrowing.

He desperately hoped it didn't mean what he thought it did.

"A feather?" said Cheyenne, ears gradually lowering again. This time, in slight remorse. "It…it wasn't you…but I thought…"

They heard voices and approaching footsteps.

"You ain't gonna have time for thinkin' if we're spotted. We need to scram. Otherwise it ain't gonna look good for either one of us." He hopped out of the vault and raced off in the opposite direction of the approaching crowd.

She laughed in disbelief. "Yeah right. That's rich. They'd never think that I had anything to do with this." She cried out suddenly as she tripped on something, falling forward, her chin hitting the ground, nearly knocking her jaw out of alignment. Grunting in pain, she glared at the offender that had caused her to trip.

A gun. Rather large and scary-looking, and plastered in blood. She snatched it up, two seconds away from chucking it across the room, when all of a sudden, the blinding light of a lantern spilled over her. She dropped the gun straightaway, holding both her hands up instinctively, the gray on them smeared with fresh blood from where she held the weapon just moments before.

"Cheyenne…that you?"

"I…" she attempted dumbly.

"You…you the one?" a hefty kangaroo rat uttered. "Who broke into the bank? And killed Wyatt and all his men?"

"What? No! Are ya thick in the head?!" she spat back, shocked by the accusation as she stepped closer. "I'd never. How could you even think such a thing?!"

"Don't see anyone else around," an older possum pointed out, staring at her in grave disapproval. "Ya lookin' mighty guilty right now, young lady. 'Less you can explain yourself."

"Be glad too! But I don't have to explain a thing when I can show you! See this guy right here, he—huh?!" She blinked in total shock, realizing that the male raccoon was already gone.

"What guy?" the possum pressed. "Only one I see here is you, Ms. Whitlocke. And ya got innocent blood on your hands. A skilled con artist couldn't lie their way outta this one." He shook his head, heaving a heavy sigh. "Your Pa's gonna be sorely disappointed when he hears—"

"My Pa will believe me when I tell him! That you would even accuse me of such is positively asinine!" she spat, lips curled back, ringed tail arched in fury, narrowed eyes alit in hurt and anger. He was right there! How the hell had he slipped away so quickly?!

"We don't want to…but the evidence is stacked against ya six ways from Sunday." The other males held up their lanterns, looking at the younger female in sheer astonishment and disbelief.

"But I didn't…" she trailed off, backing away in sudden fear as they all started to move towards her. She looked from their hardened faces to the blood on her hands, and then back up at them again. It was all one big misunderstanding, but that simple fact wasn't going to help her out of this.

Running away, however, might do the trick.

And that's just what she did. She took off like a comet, zipping past the gathered men in the bank, hurdling over the broken glass and leaping through the hole in the front window. She landed clumsily, limbs in a tangle. Springing right back up to her feet, she didn't bother dusting herself off, taking off again, darting around the side of the building, hoping they hadn't caught a glimpse of her laughable escape. It's not that she was afraid. At least, not so much so that she'd let on. She just needed to talk it out with the now suspicious townsfolk. Only, they didn't seem all that interested in what she had to say. What they'd seen had apparently been enough for them.

She hid behind the back exterior wall of the bank, crouching behind a barrel. She waited in silence, heart pounding in her ears as she waited for the sounds of their footsteps to fade into the distance as they set out to find her.

When nothing but the occasional howl of the night wind could be heard, she peeked around from behind the barrel, sighing to herself as she stood.

She nearly fell back in fright when Tennessee landed right in front of her.

Seeing her eyes grow wide and mouth opening even wider, he quickly clamped a hand over her muzzle to keep the scream that he knew was dancing at the edge of her throat from coming out. Silently, he pressed a finger to his own lips, signaling her to stay quiet.

"You!" she hissed.

His finger remained pressed to his lips, eyes stern as they did the talking for him. When she complied, he used his head to gesture to the roof above. Skillfully, the lithe raccoon hopped up and landed atop the barrel. From there, he leapt up onto the edge of the roof. He then turned and waited in silence, hoping she'd follow his lead.

She scowled up at him, hesitating at first. But, knowing she really didn't have much left to lose at this point, she sighed and climbed up onto the barrel. It took a bit more effort on her part, and that next jump to the roof? That wasn't happening. Not in the dress she was wearing.

A hint of a smirk on his face, Tennessee held out his hand for her to take. Still she was hesitant, but she grudgingly grabbed hold and allowed him to help her onto the roof. Once both had climbed a little higher, Tennessee released her hand, crouching down as the group searched the road below to find it empty, and then walked further away, all grumbling in perplexity to each other.

He watched them all disappear behind another tall building. "So, they think it was you huh?"

She shot him a scathing look, but her expression withered shortly after, and she slumped down next to him. "Yea. Made the mistake of puttin' my hands on a gun with blood all over it." She shook her head. "Cuts me to the core…that they think I had a part to play in any of that."

"Doesn't feel so good does it, bein' wrongly accused of somethin' like that?"

From beneath wispy lashes, she forced herself to look up at him, long brunette hair covering half of her face as the wind gusted by. "'M sorry," she murmured. "Really. I just thought…comin' into town outta nowhere and then comin' to scope out the bank…it just didn't add up. What were ya doin' there anyway? If you weren't there to rob the bank?"

"Believe it or not, I went there to look for somethin' that had been stolen from me," he answered, gazing up at the never-ending canvas of stars in the sky. "Been lookin' for it for years, goin' from place to place, town to town…no luck." He shrugged with an easygoing smile. "But I'm sure I'll find it one day."

Cheyenne's ears lowered, stony features softening as remorse ensnared her. "And you thought you'd find it in the bank?"

He shrugged. "I was hopin'. To most folk, it probably don't really look like much, but it was worth enough that it up and disappeared without a trace. So I figured it was somewhere important, under lock and key." His mind flashed back to the feather they'd stumbled upon in the vault. "But as for what happened here tonight…I got a pretty good idea of who was behind it. And it looks like we just missed 'im."

The female raccoon fell silent. Lowering her head, she studied the blood smeared across her palms. "What kind of lowlife does somethin' like this?" she whispered weakly. "Stealin' valuables ain't enough, they gotta take lives too? Who does somethin' that unspeakably vile?"

"A monster," Tennessee simply stated, still staring up at the moonlit sky.

"T.C.?" Cheyenne spoke up, and he obliged her by looking back at her.

Her gaze retreated to the shingles of the roof they sat perched on. "I'm...I'm sorry...I may have misjudged you."

He chuckled. "'S alright, no harm done."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but just then, both pairs of ears twitched to the distant sound of a train whistle.

Cheyenne barely had time to turn around before the masked drifter had scaled the side of a neighboring building and catapulted himself up to the rocky wall of a canyon that bordered the town.

Way out in the distance, a train was winding around the bend, out of sight, but the whistle's howl still echoed off the canyon walls.

The female raccoon tried her best to hide her shock as Tennessee nimbly climbed back down and landed in front of her. "What's the next town that train stops in?"

She blinked, still taken aback by the incredible display of agility. "...Ruby Summit."

Yep, sounded like a prime target for the dastardly robber on the run.

"Well," said Tennessee, "I'll bet anything that's the train they left on. And with a name like that, I bet that place is gonna be the next target."

"Alright, now you wait just a second. First off," she stopped him, pointing to the lofty canyon he'd scaled. "You wanna tell me how you managed to do that? I've never seen anyone move like that. Ever."

Tennessee laughed and crossed his arms. "Years of practice," was all he replied with. Then without another word he began to slide down the sloping edge of the roof and jumped right over the edge.

Cheyenne gasped and scrambled over to the roof's edge, thinking for sure a jump to the ground from this height had to have killed him. Or at least broken a few bones.

She was once again taken aback to see him crouching on the top of the barrel below. She glared, but her expression didn't display anger exactly, more so mild annoyance. "So, what then? Ya gonna go after that train?" she asked, peering down at him.

He nodded. "I was thinkin' about it."

"You're crazy," she whispered, shaking her head.

"I thought we already established that," he teased back, smiling at her. "But, if I'm right, and I track down whoever stole from your town, and find out where they're takin' what they made off with, I can get it back."

He extended his hand out to her when she climbed down to land on the barrel and helped her back down to solid ground. "Now, I don't know what this necklace of yours looks like, and I can't be sure I'll bring back the right one, even if you tell me exactly what it looks like. But, if ya go with me, we can bust this guy, and you can get it back personally."

Her mouth fell open. If her eyes widened any more, they'd pop right out of socket. "Leave town, and my family, with you? Someone I just met? To chase after a dynamite-totin' bandit?!" She scoffed, jaw still agape. "You're crazier than crazy if you think I'd do somethin' like that."

Tennessee shrugged. "You know those men, who found ya in the vault, they looked mighty suspicious. I know it was all just bad timing, but, if ya came back with everything that got stolen, they wouldn't have reason to think it was you. Ya can clear your name, and return all the valuables to their rightful owners."

"My name don't need clearin'!" she shot back, crossing her arms. "I'm innocent."

"Oh, I know that. But they don't seem like folk that are too easily swayed by talk. Jus' sayin' solid proof will show 'im that you're tellin' the truth."

She didn't say anything. She didn't need to prove herself to anyone. She did, however, really want to get her family heirloom back, and maybe give this no-good crook a kick in the tail once she got it back.

"It don't really make much difference to me," Tennessee told her. "I'm goin' either way. Before this trail runs cold. As soon as I get my things together, I'm saddlin' up and I'm outta here. But if ya'd like to join, then meet me at the motel stable."

She just stood there, watching him disappear into the shadows.

What an absurd thing for him to suggest! She'd known him, what, a day? If that? And he really thought she'd just bat her lashes longingly and follow him into the night?!

She cast a glance down at her hands again. The dark red streaks of blood had dried up and stuck to the fur of her palms. Someone had done her town very wrong. Whether it was personal, or random, she didn't know. But with all their money gone, the townsfolk would be in a real panic when they all discovered that everything valuable they owned was gone. And without money in the bank, they'd all be struggling for a while, no question.

What if this was an opportunity she was somehow destined to take? What if this was her chance to help out the ones she cared about, when they needed it most? Shouldn't she take that chance?

Answer? Nope. The most responsible and practical choice would be to stay right here. Even if her town was in trouble and there was a slight chance she could help. No, she was staying and that was that.

Tennessee, meanwhile, was in his motel room, gathering up what little belongings he took with him on his travels. Namely, his cherished family tome. He gripped it and looked it over for a moment before storing it safely in a small burlap sack. He'd wanted to write in it a little more, maybe read over previous passages. But that would have to wait.

Belongings slung over his shoulder, he slipped out of the motel and made his way to the nearby stable, where his trusty steed waited.

He approached from the side, gently petting the thoroughbred's neck. "Sorry to wake ya like this, pal, but we gotta be on our way."

Bullet snorted softly, shaking his head about, nostrils flaring.

"I know, I know," Tennessee whispered. "But I'll make it worth your while. Next town we get to, I'll find you some tasty oats to munch on."

The horse turned his head and gently nudged Tennessee.

The raccoon chuckled, equipping Bullet with his saddle and saddlebags. Then he hopped up onto the horse's back and clicked his teeth, signaling the equine to start walking. He'd barely cleared the stable's entrance when he heard a lovely voice calling out to him.

"Wait!"

He stopped the horse, looking over his shoulder at her, the biggest, smuggest smile on his muzzle. "Ahh, talked ya into it, did I?"

Cheyenne was drying her hands on the front of her dress, rolling her eyes as she stepped forward. "No. But my town's in trouble, and I'm gonna bring back what was wrongfully taken. And get my family heirloom back. Can't let you hog all the glory." She reached up and gripped the saddle's horn, swinging her foot into the stirrup. But to her dismay, getting onto a horse was a little harder than it looked.

Grinning, Tennessee helped her up the rest of the way. As he did, he teased back in a playful tone. "Oh ya take me for a glory hog, do ya? Now that cuts deep, Miss Cheyenne."

She ignored how the way he said her name sent a burst of warmth straight up her spine, but he refused to ignore how nice it felt when she slowly wrapped her arms around him.

"Come on, we gotta cover ground if we're tryin' to follow that train," she reminded.

"Right you are," he answered, whipping the reins and taking off. "But what about your Pa and sister?" he asked. "Don't want them thinkin' ya got kidnapped or somethin.'"

"Don't worry," she said. "I left a note, tellin' where I'm goin.' Besides, if we hurry, we won't be gone too long."

"However long I have such lovely company, I'll be sure to make the most of it."

Cheyenne held tight to Tennessee as they left the little town of Cliffside and rode into the canyons beyond. She looked up at the moon in the sky, her wavy brown hair blowing in the wind like a cape behind her.

This was definitely crazy.

But...maybe crazy didn't have to be a bad thing.