I was sitting staring at my computer keyboard, deep in thought, busy planning my next literary endeavour, when I heard a noise behind me. Our cat was fast asleep on the chair and my husband was out, so I turned quickly, a little nervously, but with a sliver of hope as to who it might be. I was met by the extremely annoyed expression of my second favourite cowboy.
“I want a word with you Ma'am!” Heyes was glaring at me, his dark eyes almost black and his jaw tight. That tone and look never boded well for anyone, but I met his gaze levelly before looking past his shoulder, in the hopes of seeing my favourite gunslinger in the shadows behind him.
He smirked not entirely pleasantly when he realised what I was doing, before putting his hands on his hips and saying sharply. “That's what I wanna talk to you about, Missie!” I felt my hackles go up, where'd he get off calling me that? I opened my mouth to complain, but he hurried to interrupt me. “Now before we get into a dispute, I want you to listen. I got several bones to pick with you and so I wrote me a list of rules concernin' your writing.”
I raised an eyebrow at him as I said fairly calmly. “I'm not one of your gang, Heyes, so what makes you think I'm prepared to listen to any of your rules, let alone follow them?”
His shoulders slumped slightly before he squared them again and met my gaze firmly. “Look, Ma'am.” He glanced over his shoulder and squinted into the dark, after a few moments, obviously seeing nothing, he turned back to me. “You're drivin' Kid to drink ya know that? And he's jumpin' at shadows. I ain't never seen him this scared before, so I'm figurin' it's down to you and that torture device of yours.” He waved angrily over at my computer. He paused and said with some wonder in his tone. “You're usually pretty sweet, and me and Kid are kinda fond of ya, but as soon as your fingers hit that thing you turn into some kinda sadist. So I'm just figurin' some rules might be useful.”
Interested, despite myself, having suddenly realised that my Kid muse had been strangely nervous around me lately and had unusually drunk quite heavily out of a bottle of rotgut, whenever he saw me head towards my computer, I asked. “Rules?”
Heyes cleared his throat and produced a collection of papers with a flourish. “Rule One: Do not write when you're 'bout to have one of them monthly woman things. Rule Two: Do not write till least twenty four hours after you've read a story that Kid annoys you in. Rule Three: Please for the love of God, don't read that story you hate.” He paused and added. “I think maybe that oughta have been rule one.” He cleared his throat. “Rule Four. I'm a genius and don't never need no help getting me and Kid outta any trouble. So no lawmen or high priced lawyers required.”
A snort escaped from me at that comment and I said. “What about judges, pretty girls and Indian agents, oh and the odd stray rattler?”
Heyes sighed. “I wish them disc things weren't never invented, they sure ruin a man's hard won reputation.”
“You talking to all the other ladies like this? You know I'm not alone in this.”
Heyes shrugged as a rueful expression crossed his face. “I ain't had no luck persuading none of you so far, but I figure one of you gotta listen at some point.”
“I guess us twenty first century women aren't as easy to persuade as you'd like huh?”
“Look, Miss Rachel, you're always telling folk that you love my partner. But your writing kinda has me doubting that.” He paused then said a little more quietly. “Not to mention I'm starting to worry 'bout the continuing well-being of that poor husband of yours.”
Not willing to think on my marital status, while talking about my fantasy man, I said quickly. “Heyes...carry on with those rules of yours....I might be willing to listen to a couple of them.”
Heyes gave me that bright dimpled smile that even I'm not wholly immune to and glanced back down at his list. “Rule Five, give Kid a break sometimes. I mean how many of his wives do you gotta kill? Not to mention that urine thing in your last effort. And sending him to prison when he thought I was dead, showed a real nasty curve to your nature. Wouldn't kill ya to give him something nice to do a time or two.”
I shifted, feeling a little shamefaced, when my stories were listed like that, it did make me sound a little cruel. But I was unwilling to concede any ground, knowing Heyes would take a mile if I did so I only said. “I always give him a happy ending and don't never kill him. “ I paused then added defiantly. “What about that chapter in San Francisco, when he got to spend some time with a pretty girl and had a real nice bath?”
Heyes snorted with what could only be described as derision before he added. “Well that was only after he had to about had to beg ya! And I can just hear me now.“Don't worry Kid, she gonna torture you physically and mentally, but you're gonna live through it. I'm sure that'll make him real happy and stop him drinking!”
“So what are you suggesting? I'm not stopping writing if that's what you're wanting. I've tried that a few times and it isn't real pretty for anyone, least of all Facebook and my husband, not to mention the poor people I work with.”
Heyes shook his head and he sighed.“ You ain't been listenin' have you?” He shook the papers at me. “That's what these rules is for!”
“How many of them are there?”
“Not many, bout fifty give or take...”
I swallowed, “All right, Heyes, just leave that list here and I'll think about reading them.”