The evening sun casted an orange glow across the town as you looked through the produce bins at the local store. Behind the counter, the grocer leaned back, his smirk slick as oil.

“Lookin’ for somethin’ sweet, darlin’?” He drawled. “Or just enjoyin’ the view?”

You stiffened but ignored him, hoping the silence would discourage him.

“C’mon now, sweetheart,” he said louder. “Bet you’d look real nice with a smile—“

“Shut your mouth while you still got teeth.” A low and rough voice came from behind you. You turned back to see Simon standing in the doorway, his cowboy hat pulled low and his hand resting on the grip of his revolver.

He wasn’t a man you’d see every day, but when he did show up he dropped supplies off at the schoolhouse or sat in on the lesson with the kids. He softened around them but now, his face was hardened.

The grocer’s grin faltered and he raised his hands. “No need for trouble, cowboy.”

Simon’s boots thudded on the wooden floor. He didn’t draw his weapon, he didn’t have to. One of his looks was enough to send the grocer going back behind the counter into the back room.

He turned towards you, his hard gaze softened just slightly. “Go on home. Ain’t worth stickin’ around.”

You hesitated but obeyed but as you walked away, you could feel his gaze following you.

That night, the town woke up to the blaze of flames. You rushed to your porch, watching the grocer’s produce store burn, thick smoke curling into the sky.

You grabbed your jacket, pulling it over your shoulders as you ran towards the produce store.

Your eyes scanned the chaotic scene before finding a man on a horse, a bottle in his hand and a match in the other; he lights the rag and tosses it onto the already blazing flame.

Simon.