“Another one,” she demanded as she pointed with two fingers at an empty shot glass.

The older looking with long grey hair on both his head and face reached for the wall and retrieved a bottle with brown liquor inside it. He rotated the bottle up right and the liquor poured from the spout to the shot glass.

They both gave each other a quick nod then he replaced the bottle and she quickly threw the shot back into her mouth. She swallowed then gave a quick inhale as it burned on its way down, but she didn’t mind. Her dark eyes scanned the bar through the dusty mirror behind the bar top; she started at the far left of the mirror, it stated with a pair of well-worn pool tables occupied by two pairs of men playing doubles as they used the edges to place their bets. Her eyes shifted across the mirror to the other half of the bar; half a dozen wooden tables resided in its space only two tables occupied by a single man and the other by three men. Her vision analyzed each person sitting among the tables for a threat status; one of the men rose from the table and approached, her eyes watched him as he moved closer. He tugged at his jeans on his approach and removed his cap then tucked the bill into his back pocket as the ran his dirty hand through his greasy hair.

“How’re you doin’ honey?” questioned a redneck, His accent thick and smile missing teeth.

She turned her head to the right with her neat looking eyebrow raised, “What do you want?”

“Come on now, there ain’t no reason to be like that,” he said attempting to be smooth and failing miserably.

“Can I get another?” she questioned loudly to the old bartender as she turned from the redneck.

He shifted along the bar closer to her stool as the bartender poured another shot and was met with a sharp knife tip pressed against his crotch as she drank the shot. She placed the shot glass upside down as she sized up the hillbilly through the mirror then slid off her stool and gripped his shirt sensually, as she pulled him close. A smile formed across his face exposing his missing teeth again, she returned a smile then delivered a hard head butt that sent him to the dusty board floor.

“You fucking bitch!” he exclaimed as he rose from the floor his hands grasped a bloody nose, “You’re gonna pay for that!”

He advanced as he pulled a bone handled knife from its sheath, while another two men rose form a table. All three encircled the woman as the rest of the bar patrons watched but she stood her ground with a stern fierce look.

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“Excuse me?” asked a man as he tapped on one of the hillbilly’s partners as he turned the man delivered a heavy right cross knocking him out cold.

The woman took advantage and kicked the hillbilly in the crotch then punched his remaining partner in the face.

“Get these assholes out of here,” ordered the bartender as the three men laid on the dusty floor groaned.

Three men moved away from the pool tables to the incapacitated men, each one grabbed them by the ankles then proceeded to drag them out roughly.

“Thank you,” stated the bartender, “Those boys have been a problem for some time now.”

“Not a problem,” replied the stranger as he took up the stool next to the woman, “You mind setting me up a drink?”

The bartender set two more shot glasses onto the bar, one in front of the fierce woman then the other in front of the stranger.

“On the house,” he stated as the placed the bottle between the glasses.

Both gave the bartender a quick nod then the woman proceeded to fill her own glass and placed the bottle back on the bar.

“You’re welcome,” the stranger stated as he poured his own shot, his eyes locked on his own appearance in the bar mirror; his brown eyes examined the thickening brown beard the dusty leather jacket that fitted tightly on his broad shoulders before he removed it and laid it over bar top.

“I didn’t need your help,” she stated sternly then took her shot.

“That’s what you think,” he said with a grin, “If I hadn’t taken out the third guy, you would’ve been overpowered.”

“Is that so?” she asked flatly as she turned to face him.

“You’re fast,” he complimented, “But not that fast.”

She quickly drew her knife and placed it against his throat only to be met with a smile then he took his shot with his left hand as she noticed a light pressure against her abdomen.

“Like I said… fast,” he said as he smiled at himself in the mirror as she glanced down to see his 1911 .45 against her abdomen, “But not fast enough.”

She moved the blade away from his throat and sheathed it before she began to pour herself another shot.

“Mercer,” he announced as he placed his pistol on bar then thrusted his hand out for a handshake.

“Amelia,” she stated as she shook it.

“Tight grip, judging by the way you handled that blade I’m gonna go out on a limp and say you’re ex-military.”

“Ex-marine,” Amelia replied as her eyebrow rose at his guess then took the shot.

“Well it’s a pleasure, glad to see there is a woman who can handled her own now-a-days.”

“I suppose,” Amelia conquered, “But are these questions leading up to something or are you talking to hear yourself talk?”

“Well a little of both,” Mercer said with a cocky smile, “Well I’m trying to get to the coast and I could use someone with your skills for the way.”

She sat on her bar stool; staring at her own reflection as she contemplated the offer.

“Think about it,” he stated as he grabbed the bottle and his glass then moved from the bar to a table.