Everly and the Outlaw

by Laurie Ingram Sibley

This was the last time—the absolute last time—Everly let Kimmi talk her into one of her shenanigans. The idea of being an extra on the set of a movie being filmed in a nearby town had sounded almost fun. Fun enough to let herself be convinced by her movie-starry-eyed friend. 

But no one had mentioned that it was a period film, and that she’d be wearing approximately seventeen layers of petticoats before the sun even got out of bed. Or that extras went where directors told them to go, not where their best friends went. Kimmi had been herded off to the left, while Everly had been sent to the right. Now she was marching past rows of trailers, trying to find the set. 

She rounded the last trailer and stopped dead in amazement at the sight of the sun bursting over the top of the mountains. The long skirts of her costume swirled around her ankles, and for a moment she really was a turn-of-the-century woman. She probably woke up this early on purpose to slaughter pigs and build barns. 

“Well, hello there, little lady.” 

In normal life, she’d take offense at being addressed as “little lady,” but in normal life she wasn’t covered from chin to ankle in calico. Somehow it seemed endearing in this context.

She looked up. Way up. Past a pair of pistols slung around his hips, to a dusty black cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. She wouldn’t have described her type as “outlaw” or even “cowboy,” but clearly she’d been wrong. Outlaw was looking very, very good right about now.

“Now, ain’t you a purty filly. What’s yer name, ma’am?” the cowboy drawled.

The accent, the phrasing, were so over the top they were actually ridiculous. So why was her heart melting just a little?

“Everly,” she answered. And then tacked on a “kind sir.” When in Rome… er, the Old West, right?

The outlaw used one finger to scoot his hat a little further back on his head, enough so that she could see him offer a lazy wink as he extended his arm to her. “May I escort you to the set, Miz Everly?”

“You may.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, her other hand automatically lifting her skirts a bit. 

The sun bathed the valley in warm yellow light, the edges of the mountains gilded with fire. Dry grass crunched under her boots, releasing the sweet smell of autumn. The outlaw’s hard bicep flexed under her fingers. 

Maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to criticize Kimmi’s shenanigans after all.