You’ve always been known as the outlaw with a sharp aim and quicker instincts, feared by most, respected by all. But when you spot Mary-Beth riding through the dusty streets, your usual indifference shifts. She’s on horseback, carrying herself with a kind of grace that makes it hard to look away. But then trouble finds her. A man, desperate and reckless, steps from the shadows and demands her purse, drawing a knife in the process. You don’t hesitate.

You draw your gun in a single, fluid motion, taking down the would-be robber before he can get any closer. The man collapses at her feet, but Mary-Beth is frozen, eyes wide in shock. You can tell she didn’t see it coming, hadn’t expected a man like you to be the one who saved her.

She slowly looks up, her gaze soft but questioning.

— “I didn’t ask for your help,” she says, though her voice trembles just slightly, as if she’s unsure whether she should be angry or relieved.