(1st choice - Overall Bookshop favorite for the Western Photo Prompt Contest)

I sat in my usual spot, nursing a tall glass of whiskey. Every night, with the exception of Sunday, this is where I could be found once my duties were complete. I had exactly two hours to drink enough whiskey to build up my courage to do one of two things – defy her... or satisfy her.

            "What would you do for love?" Those six little words, so innocently asked, had changed my life in unimaginable ways.

            "Excuse me?"

            The words startled me out of my reverie. I hadn't realized that the barstool next to me had become occupied. I made eye contact with the young man and touched the brim of my hat to indicate I heard him. He, along with the well-groomed woman next to him, was obviously a tourist. They were drawn to me because of my well-worn hat, boots, and spurs, all of which were as authentic as they'd ever see. I also take great care with my horseshoe mustache to match the re-enactment actors. Folks thought I dyed it darker for that reason, which was convenient.

            "Sorry, folks, I'm just an old cowboy who spends too much time livin' in the past." I turned back to my glass and took as big a gulp as I could without choking. I felt the weight of their stares as they figured out who I was.

            "Do you happen to be Clayton Pickett?"

"Guilty," I said as I gave his hand a strong shake. "And who might you be?"

            "I'm Bob," he replied and turned towards the blonde girl, "and this is Sally."

            "What brings two young 'uns like you to a borin' ol' town like St. Elmo?" I chuckled and took another gulp of whiskey. "Wait; don't tell me... you hopin' to spy a ghost?"

            "Well, it is what y'all are famous for!" Sally giggled and a healthy blush spread across her face, making her freckles stand out. A lump formed in my throat as I was reminded of another face, just as young and fresh, with a similar spattering of freckles.

            "Yeah, we saw the re-enactment today – out at the mine," Bob added. "Much of it focused on your heroics. The pamphlet we got also said you took over this Saloon after..."

            His words faltered when he saw the change in my expression. Nearly thirty years later and I still can't keep the pain off my face. "Well, trust me when I say that much of that show is a gross exaggeration of the events that took place at that mine." A shudder climbed my spine, which I covered by winking at Sally. "But, I am the proud owner of the Blood Moon Saloon, so let me get you nice kids a drink."

            I motioned to Emily, one of the bartenders, and she came to our end of the forty-two foot bar made of the finest European ash. Her long, curly black hair swayed across her back bringing sweet memories while she filled their drink order.

            After a healthy swig of his beer, Bob drew in a deep breath and asked the question. The one all the tourist want to know. "So is any of it true? Does the ghost of Mattie Murphy haunt this building... did you snatch her out of Satan's hands in the deepest part of the Murphy Mine?" He had the good manners to look almost apologetic for asking, but his curiosity over-ruled them.

            I cocked my head slightly and waited several beats before answering. In that time I made a quick decision. After all, it had been more than six months since that kid from Kansas. I needed to tell the story, like a good Catholic in a confessional.

            "You sure you want to hear the tale? Because you can't un-hear it once it's told."

            Bob and Sally exchanged a quick look and then turned towards me and nodded enthusiastically. Sally's face flushed again and her youth rolled off of her in waves.

            "Well then, the first thing you have to understand is that Mattie Murphy was the most interestin' woman... hell, most interestin' person I ever met. And even with only half a face, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever met." Subconsciously, I rubbed the burnt skin on my right hand. "She had long curly hair that was so black that if you stared hard enough, you'd swear you could see Satan starin' back. She had full lips and a strong chin, and her eye was large and round and the greenest green you ever saw."

            "Eye?" Sally asked.

            "Yeah, she only had the one. Wore an eye patch over the other."

            "What happened to her face? The re-enactment didn't mention any of that," Bob said, sounding a bit miffed over the omission.

            "I'm gettin' to that," I answered. "Trust me when I say, the truth and that show have a lot of space between them. What happened to Mattie happened when she was just a child, but she carried it with her through her whole life."

            I took two big gulps of whiskey, draining my glass before motioning to Emily to bring me a refill. "See, Mattie's father, George Murphy, was the founder of St. Elmo. He'd come to try his hand at mining and struck a huge silver vein on his first try. Built a beautiful house and founded the town, and within 5 years had amassed a fortune. Some said he had upwards of six million dollars – most of which was buried on his land."

            "Was it?" Sally asked, a little breathlessly. I stared hard at her until she looked away. At this point in the story I could afford to stop being so nice. They weren't going anywhere.

            "Only Mattie knew for sure. Four men rode into town back in 1907 with the idea of findin' out and ended up massacrin' the whole Murphy clan. All 'cept little Mattie, who they beat mercilessly and left for dead – after watchin' those animals torture and rape her mother in an attempt to get her to tell where the money was," I winced as I recalled the newspaper account of the condition of the bodies. I was just a teenage boy then, and still ignorant of the evil men can do. "There were dozens of holes dug around that property but no sign of treasure."

            I was nearin' the end of the story, which meant it was time for the special brew to come out. I stepped behind the bar and pulled an old bottle out of a locked compartment, along with 3 shot glasses. "Before continuing, I want to share somethin' real special with you two. This is one of the last remainin' bottles of a special whiskey Mattie had made the year she opened this here saloon. It was distilled under the light of a blood moon, aged in Argentinian Malbec barrels to give it the dark red color, then bottled in the light of another blood moon."

            I filled the glasses and slid one each to Bob and Sally. I hoped that Sally weighed enough to withstand the effects for another half hour or so.

            "As I was sayin', Mattie survived but carried the scars of that night on her shoulders like it were a livin', breathin' thing. Her maiden aunt came to care for her, and in no time the rumours started that Miss Diana was teachin' Mattie the dark arts. Folk started reporting seeing apparitions in the wood surrounding the Murphy place. Hunters would come into town tellin' tales of chantin' and cloaked figures dancing on the ground Mary Murphy had bled out on."

            Sally gasped and Bob pulled her a little closer, but nodded for me to go on.

            "I didn't care about none of that – all I cared about was Mattie. By the time she was fourteen I was deeply in love and wanted nothin' more than to marry that girl. Everyone in town was scared to death of her, but I just wanted to make her smile..." I paused and closed my eyes for a brief moment.

            I was leanin' against the rail of the paddock, watchin' as Mattie sat bareback on the giant, coal black stallion she'd named Lucifer. They were galloping full speed and as they rounded the far end, she pulled her six shooters smoothly out the holsters, shooting ten of twelve glass jars off a platform. She looked over at me and the smile that crossed her face stole the breath straight from my lungs.

            "We 'ventually got married, but only after she'd opened this Saloon and took over runnin' her Daddy's mines. She wanted the world to know that she'd done those things on her own, even if it just made the rumors fly harder and darker."

            "What rumors were those?" Bob asked, slurring a little, eyes not quite focused.

            "It had long been rumored that Mary Murphy was a witch, and that the night those men killed her family she'd made a deal with the devil to save Mattie's life... a wish he granted, but only for as long as Mattie served him with blood sacrifices."

            "You mean she hadda ki... kill animals to stay alive?" Sally's eyes got wide, and she was slurrin' even worse than Bob. I needed to speed this up.

            "Yeah, animals... or somethin' like that. In return he would keep her alive and young and successful. But, Satan is a crawfishin' sumbitch," I growled, putting my arm around their shoulders to guide them out the front door. A quick whistle and Lucifer came trotting out from the alley. With a small nudge, Bob and Sally both climbed into the cart and we were on our way.

            At the mouth of the mine, I transferred both snoozing bodies to a mining cart and off we went. Further and further into the belly of the mountain, until I could see the soft orange glow and smell that unmistakable scent. Even after all these decades, my stomach quivered at the thought of seeing her face.

            We rounded the last corner and there she was. Hair still black as death, figure still lush, left side of her face flawless. Seeing me, she lit up and the smile she saved for me alone, stretched her mouth wide.

            "You brought two!" She clapped her hands excitedly while bouncing on her heels.

            I cupped her face and touched my lips to hers. "And they're so young, Mattie..." I searched her eyes. "They should buy you another couple of years at least."

            "Yes, I believe they will my dear Clayton." She looked behind me and I could smell him. Mattie put a hand over my eyes and shut my lids. She didn't want me to witness their dealings. After a while, I heard the young couple being dragged to the edge of the pit and the slurping, sucking sound that made me nauseous no matter how many times I heard it. Then the smell receded and I felt Mattie in front of me again. She handed me a small cup with the viscous liquid that would turn the clock back for me.

            "How much time did that buy us?" I asked, desperately wanting years of just me and Mattie together - without the sacrifices.

            She looked at me and I watched her eyes fill with joy. "You did so well, my love, and he offered a reward."

            "You mean...?"

            "Yes, he told me where to find them!" She glowed with the news.

            I gasped at the words. Finally, we'd get revenge on those bastards – or at least their families. "When?"

            "The blood moon is coming – he wants the sacrifice that night. We have lots of work to do, but then we can go far away - to someplace where no one knows us."

            I pulled her into a hug and buried my face in her hair so she couldn't see my anguished eyes. I knew there'd be no escape. Ever.