Pete looked over at Ginger. “Six months,” The bartender said, putting the bottle back on the shelf. She was moaning loudly and Pete couldn’t get enough. “Hey there, cowboy, looking for someone to ride you into the sunset?” the whore said with a smile. “See, this is why I don’t want to be in this town. “But sir, I don’t think you know what you’re missing out on. The morning sun shone brightly against her auburn hair, her emerald eyes admiring the sunrise off the horizon. “I go to the river for five minutes and I come back to you pleasing yourself?” Ginger said, still staring at him. Pete, we can’t come here,” Ginger said, a little worry in her voice. Pete holstered his pistol and motioned his horse to keep going. As they approached the main intersection, a tubby man dressed up in a button shirt, brown trousers and sporting a striped apron approached Pete and Ginger. Her short, curly brown hair partially covering her face, her green eyes staring back at Pete.
