Cowboy AmericaxReader Thanks, Sheriff Chapter 1

~Reader POV~
“Stop in the name of good ‘ol fashioned American justice!” I started at the sound of the loud voice and looked around, not quite sure where I was. I had just been in my warm bed a minute ago, hadn’t I? I glanced around, taking in the scenery. It looked just like the sets in the westerns that I had been watching. The ground was dust, the sun was beating down, there were strangely dressed people wandering the streets, and there wasn’t a speck of greenery to be seen anywhere. “Stop that girl,” the voice called again.

All of the sudden, I noticed that the people had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at me. I shifted my weight, feeling uncomfortable under their scrutiny. And that was when I figured it out. They were staring because the voice was yelling for them to stop me. And that was when I ran. It probably wasn’t the best decision of my life, but I was really scared! I had just found myself in a completely strange place and was being yelled at. I heard the sounds of the people pursuing me, so I picked up my pace and began frantically searching for somewhere to hide.

I quickly darted behind an old building and watched the flood of people running after men pass my hiding place. I sighed in relief.

“HAHAH!!! I found you, Ghost Mistress! I told you that the hero would always win. Now, give up and tell me where you hid the money and the bodies.” I jerked around to face the voice that had caused the beginning of the chase. My eyes wide with fear, I faced the man standing behind me. The first thing I saw was his gun, a shiny Smith and Wesson. I gulped, and glanced up at his face. His baby blue eyes sparkled with triumph as he eyed me. His big grin showcased his shiny white teeth and his cute dimpled chin.

His blonde hair was ruffled by the slight breezy, bringing my attention to the weird flipped up piece of hair on the top of his head. I realized just how adorable this guy was, even if he was pointing a gun at my head. When the man saw my face, his grin faltered.

“O-Oh. You aren’t the Ghost Mistress,” he said, his tone almost accusatory. He let his hands drop, bringing me out of the line of fire. I sighed in relief as he suddenly whipped the gun back up to my head. “Unless you are just cleverly disguised,” he shouted once more. I immediately stiffened.

“I-I-I don’t know who you think that I am, but my name is [First name] [Last name]. I don’t know any ‘Ghost Mistress’,” I managed to stutter out, my eyes never leaving his gun.

“Oh.” He let his gun drop again, a dejected look taking over his features. “I should have guessed that I would be wrong, again. I must be the worst sheriff in the whole territory,” he sighed, removing his hat and ruffling his hair. I felt kind of sorry for him. I shifted again, once more feeling awkward.

“Well, uh, Sheriff…”

“Alfred. Alfred F. Jones at your service, ma’am,” the man said, brightening, the broad grin returning to his handsome face.

“Well, Sheriff Jones, I’m sorry that I wasn’t who you were looking for. But would you mind telling me just where I am?”

The man, Alfred, looked at me incredulously. “You are only in the greatest territory west of the Mississippi; the great territory of Texas!”