Rosalita stepped outside the dusty, stuffy saloon, taking a breath of fresh air. It wasn't actually much cooler, but the air was clearer and she go a break from the leering gazes of drunk cowhands. Not that she minded her job tending to the patrons much-- she didn't care what anyone thought of her-- but sometimes it just got really old.
She felt a light hand on her lower back, and turned to meet the eyes of her husband. Melvin Plugg owned the saloon-- and a good portion of the rest of the town for that matter, but his self-made money had no bearing on their marriage. She would've married him regardless, but it did help that he had taken her away from that dreadful ranch she had been struggling to handle by herself. She still owned it, of course, but now it was tended to by an Indian man they payed quite well.
Her attention was pulled away when a horse trotted up to the sheriff's office across the street from the saloon. A man swung off the animal's back, catching Rosalita's eyes on him and tipping his hat to her before turning away. He was a handsome fellow, with sun-tanned skin and dusty brown hair, and Rosalita could swear she could tell his eyes were blue even from all the way across the street.
She looked back to her husband. "Who's the cowboy?" she asked.
He smirked. "That's Reed. He's the new deputy down in Perfection."