What If?...1872 Bathwater and Bullets

The day had been long and brutal. Kate Bishop, the notorious gunslinger and bounty hunter, had seen enough bloodshed for a lifetime, but the business never slowed. The air was still heavy with dust, and the faint smell of gunpowder lingered on her clothes, mingling with the tang of sweat and the grime of a day well-spent hunting down a particularly nasty piece of work.

She didn’t give a damn about the bounty. After all, there was no glory in killing a man who couldn’t even keep his hands to himself. As the man groped her in the scuffle, the final bullet. cold and efficient, had ended his filthy life. But no matter how satisfying the shot had been, it did little to wash away the weariness that crept into her bones, the sting of being constantly hunted, constantly dealing with men who thought they had a right to touch her just because she was a woman.

As she rode back into the family manor, a place that had taken years to rebuild since The Hood’s infernal destruction, Kate couldn’t help but feel the weight of her inheritance. the legacy of her parents, one of the only things that remained from the ashes aside from the two pistols she carried with her.

The barn loomed ahead. It was way too much for one lone person, but it was her home now. As she dismounted from her steed, Lucky, she took a deep breath, the crisp air filling her lungs as she led the horse to the stall. The creaking barn door closed behind her as she made her way to a nearby corner where she saw a washtub and couldn’t resist as she was too tired to walk inside the manor for a proper bath in her freshly constructed bathroom.

Kate wasted no time stripping out of her worn clothes. She threw her hat aside, letting it land on a hook near the tub. Her boots came off first, followed by the rest of her outfit, piece by piece, until she stood in nothing but her bare skin. The warm water of the washtub was inviting as she lowered herself into it, letting the heat of it relax her muscles, the grime of the day’s work slowly dissolving from her skin.

She reached for the soap, her hands gliding over her toned and sculpted body, lathering up her muscular arms, her firm but large breasts, and the hard lines of her abdomen. Her skin was slick with soap, every movement of her hands causing the suds to glide across the curves of her body. She was unaware of the two men watching from the barn’s entrance, their eyes wide as they gawked at her naked form.

The men couldn’t believe their luck. They had come seeking **** for the **** of their friend. the same man who had tried to **** himself on Kate earlier in the day. They hadn’t expected this. They hadn’t expected to walk in on her, bathing in all her naked glory. Their gazes dropped to her full, pert breasts, watching as they swayed with each subtle shift of her body. Her muscular thighs, her narrow waist, her firm, round ass, all of it made their mouths water and their bodies stiffen.

Kate, lost in her own thoughts and the soothing sensation of the warm water, was unaware of their presence. But as she reached down to scrub her legs, she caught the reflection of movement in the corner of her eye. Her senses, honed from years of experience, immediately took over. Without hesitation, her right hand shot out to grab her hat, pulling it down over her crotch to cover her most intimate areas. At the same time, her left hand dove to her holster, fingers wrapping around the cold steel of her revolver with practiced ease.

Her eyes locked onto the two men, their gaping expressions almost comical. It was obvious they had been mesmerized by the sight of her, but Kate wasn’t amused. Without a word, she turned around, her naked form dripping with water. Her muscles flexed, her breasts bouncing slightly with each movement, but she didn’t care. She’d been through enough shit to care about some gawking assholes.

The revolver was already in her hand, and before they could even register what had happened, Kate’s finger squeezed the trigger. One shot, clean and precise. The first man dropped to the ground, a bullet lodged squarely between his eyes.

The second man had barely time to react before Kate’s second shot rang out, the deafening crack of the revolver breaking the tense silence of the barn. He collapsed, joining his companion in ****.

Kate stood there for a moment, her breathing steady, her gaze fixed on the two men crumpled on the floor. The entire exchange had taken mere seconds, and yet the satisfaction of it never failed to course through her veins. She wiped the wetness from her face, flicking her hair back out of her eyes as she slowly holstered her weapon, her expression cold.

Her body was still damp, the water dripping from her skin as she submerged her body down into the warm water. She didn’t care about their lives, didn’t care that they were dead. She cared about her own survival, and if that meant taking down a couple of idiots who didn’t know how to keep their hands and eyes to themselves, so be it.

But for now, all she needed was this moment of solitude. All she needed was the peace of the washtub, the warmth of the water, and the promise that tomorrow would bring another day of survival.

Tomorrow, she would pick up her guns again.