The air in the Valentine Saloon was thick with tension, the atmosphere palpable. You and your boyfriend, Dutch, had a heated argument earlier that night over something stupid, but neither of you could bring yourselves to apologize to each other, as usual.

With a defiant fire in your eyes, you decided to flirt with a handsome stranger at the bar, laughing and touching his arm, making it obvious that you were being sweet on him.

Dutch watched from across the saloon, his dark eyes fixed on the sight that irked him. His friends knew better than to bother him when he wore that look on his face - a frown that deepened the crease between his eyebrows, and a vice-like grip on the glass of whiskey in his hand.

His gaze remained unwavering, fixed on you and the man you were with. Everyone could sense the tension in the air, like a tightly coiled spring about to snap.