The horse's hooves rang against the reddish sand. Light gusts of hot desert wind lifted small clouds of dust from the ground around them.
Riding atop Capella, Bonnie held a compass in one hand, pulled from the saddlebag.
'Bonnie has a really strong sense of direction. If I didn't have her knowledge of geography and math, I'd probably still be riding out into nothing. On top of that, she came prepared for emergencies. Her bags are packed well.'
When she'd fled from home, she'd made sure to bring food and the tools to navigate. The saddlebags held several hand-drawn maps, a compass, and a few measuring instruments. There was also a pair of elegant binoculars she used constantly, scanning the desert plain and the mesas stretching into the distance.
At one point she pulled out a pretty steel canteen decorated with a small yellow bow—tucked into the side of the bag. She drank to hydrate herself against the brutal heat, but her expression twisted into a look of ironic distaste.
"This doesn't taste like any water I know."
Of course—this was another world, another era. Things weren't going to be the same for a bored city guy.
With a sigh, she put the canteen away and ran her hand gently through Capella's beautiful black mane.
"You've still got energy to keep going, huh? Good girl. When we get home I'll give you all the carrots you want."
Capella couldn't understand the words, but she seemed to pick up on the warmth behind them—so she whinnied and picked up her pace.
"Whoa! Hey, easy. We're not in a race," she said, laughing as her long hair streamed behind her in the wind.
She gripped the reins tightly and leaned forward to cut through the air.
'Capella… She's the best horse in the whole stable. We practically grew up together. Of course they'd be close—especially for a sheltered girl who barely left the house.'
Bonnie Jones had almost no experience with the harsh life of the Wild West. She had grown up in a grand Victorian-style mansion, nestled in the open land between the central city of Warlock County and the next town over.
Though the same could be said for Samuel—he'd never had a hard life either. Maybe scraping by as a college student wasn't as glamorous as the movies made it look, but there wasn't much worth complaining about.
'Okay… to get home I'll have to pass through Ironwood first—the main city in Warlock County—but there's a good chance I'll run into my father. I mean… my father? He's not my father, but he is… This is so confusing!'
She had run away from home, and now she was coming back with her tail between her legs.
How pathetic.
She exhaled to shake the heavy thoughts loose and fixed her eyes on the road ahead.
'I just hope he's reconsidered that marriage proposal from that creepy old man. The thought of being someone's wife at my age makes my skin crawl. Either way, if I find him at his office in Ironwood, I'll also have to tell him that a cult kidnapped me. I don't know if any of them will come after me again—but if someone from that group shows up, I'll be safe under my father's influence. I just have to be patient.'
She urged Capella on and the mare surged forward. Her serious expression was framed by her red hair and lit up by the orange glow of the sunset burning along the horizon.
The vast expanse of sand and distant mesas surrounded her—the only scenery for miles—as just her and her horse galloped toward the city.
━━━━━✧❃✧━━━━━
Ironwood was the great mining city of Warlock County. Its infrastructure was far more developed than any other town in the region, making it the undisputed capital of the entire mining territory—powered by steam machinery shipped in from the other side of the world to drive the massive engines that pulled ore from the earth.
The wooden buildings, mostly three or four stories tall, were painted in colors that matched the reddish desert sand. The streets were paved in irregular stone patterns, pleasant to the eye—designed to leave a good impression on visitors and potential investors.
Wooden boardwalks ran along the fronts of the buildings, giving pedestrians room to move freely, while the streets below were busy with large horses of different breeds and elegant carriages from which beautifully dressed young women stepped down, accompanied by influential businessmen.
The place had a chaotic kind of energy—a strange blend of frontier boomtown and something darker, more industrial, carried by the steam-powered machines humming away in the shadowy alleyways, feeding generators tucked between buildings.
Some of the streetlamps glowed with electric bulbs—the latest in steam engineering and electrical power.
Into those busy streets rode Bonnie, guiding her black horse through the crowd while the people around her began to stare with confused eyes.
She was a pretty girl who had just ridden into town—but that alone wasn't reason enough to stare. No, it was clearly the blood soaking her clothes and the sharp smell of rust that clung to her.
People started to whisper.
Bonnie sighed, worn out. She had been in the saddle all day to get here. The last thing she wanted was to be welcomed by the judgmental, prying stares of strangers.
'Cowboys and steam engines… This is already completely different from anything I knew through fiction—but Bonnie already knows this world. It's far stranger than anyone on the outside could imagine.'
She pressed forward, unbothered.
But as she made her way toward her father's office building, a man on horseback pulled alongside her. He wore a black hat, a long-sleeved blue shirt with brown trim, denim trousers, and dark boots.
He was already on horseback too, which made it easy for him to ride beside her.
"Excuse me, miss," the man said, tipping his hat in greeting.
He looked to be around thirty, maybe. His mustache, goatee, and stern but approachable face were the most striking things about him.
He reached into his pocket and produced a badge—a five-pointed star with the county and city name engraved into the metal.
"Deputy Collins. I saw you ride in, and I couldn't help but notice the lovely crimson decoration you've added to that dress of yours."
"Uh— I…"
Bonnie tensed.
'He doesn't think I killed someone, does he?'
But her worry faded when she heard Deputy Collins let out a quiet laugh.
"Don't worry yourself, Miss Bonnie Jones. I know who you are. We'd all have to be out of our minds not to recognize the daughter of the most powerful man in the county. He's expecting you right now, as it happens. Please—allow me to escort you."
Bonnie said nothing. She simply gave a small nod and urged Capella to follow the man.
'Right… Bonnie is also pretty closed off around people. You could call it shyness, but it's not quite that simple. This is going to complicate things—I can already feel her personality blending with mine.'
They moved through the streets at an easy pace. The onlookers stopped staring once they saw she was with the Deputy.
"There have been a lot of strange folks in red and black roaming the county lately. I'd have to assume you crossed paths with some of them—the Sheriff's been looking into a string of recent disappearances, and the descriptions we had matched yours," said Collins.
He wasn't wrong.
'Disappearances? So this has been happening pretty regularly. I wonder if anything like it is happening back in my world. I hope Rosie and Joshua are okay.'
"If it's possible, I'd like to ask for your cooperation with the case. Anything you know about them—even something small—would be a great help to us."
They stopped in front of a brick building—the only one on the entire block.
"Here we are. Your father is waiting, Miss Jones."
"Thank you," said Bonnie, swinging down from the saddle and tying Capella to the post beside the building.
Deputy Collins gave a nod, touching the brim of his hat, and rode on.
'Well. Here we are. I'm honestly terrified, if I'm being real…'
Whatever was about to happen, she had to hold firm. She was Bonnie Jones now—daughter of a mining magnate, skilled in some things and completely out of her depth in others.