Between Sunrise and Sunset... Chapter One [DMxHS]

[Loyce]

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.

A/N: I started working on this fic a while back, but ended up putting it on the back burner for a while. I stumbled across it not too long ago and decided to give it another go and a massive fic was born. With the help of some great movies, books and the Internet, I've been able to keep most of the aspects of the story authentic and historically correct.

Dedication: My friends; there are too many of you to name, but you know who you are. Thank you for taking the time to read, beta and support my work. You all mean the world to me.

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Between Sunrise and Sunset
Part One: Beginnings
By Loyce
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New Mexico Territory, June 1886
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She had been left for dead.

The hot afternoon blazed down from overhead, burning her pale exposed skin. She tried to swallow, but found her mouth as dry as the sand she crawled across. The rope burns around her wrists had finally gone numb, just like the ones that wrapped around her ankles had hours before.

She snickered. Everything from her toes to her heart felt numb. The only part of her body that still throbbed with pain was her back; which had been subjected to the agonizing sting of the whip for countless hours. Her soft skin had been flayed open, and having the sand blown constantly into the open wounds hurt worse then the dull ache coming from the sensitive skin between her legs.

She couldn't cry, not now and probably never again, if she survived this. All of her tears hadn't been enough to help her family or spare her heart. One of the many cuts along the inside of her thighs was pulled open when she moved her leg too far. The pain brought forth imagines, hurtful memories. She desperately tried to block them from her mind, but his face broke through her weakened resistance. Her stomach turned and her body began to convulse. Nothing came out as she was reduced to dry heaves. It was empty, like her, like her heart.

Unable to support her own weight any longer, her arms and legs gave out from underneath her. She lay there, on the hot sand, praying that death would find her. Knowing that if he did, she would welcome him with open arms and follow him into the depths of hell as long as he took away the physical and mental pain.

Overhead, she heard the cry of an eagle and smiled. 'At least he'll have a good meal.' The morbid thought ran through her mind. In that moment, she realized that she wasn't afraid of her death. Maybe she would meet them again on the other side. Maybe, she would be able to find her peace.

Through the narrow slits of her swollen eyes, she could make out in the distance the shadowed figure of a person on horseback. The air rippled under the intense heat of the afternoon and the figure began to blur even more. Convinced that her eyes were playing tricks on her, she closed her eyes and waited for death.

The sound of closing hoof beats reached her ears. Her dull blue eyes opened, and watched the outline of the figure grow crisper. The ground began to shake under the force of the running horse. She tried to reach out, to motion the person in her direction, but the darkness began to close in around her. 'NO!' Her mind yelled at her. 'You can't give up! You've never given up once in your life, you can't start now! If you live, you've beaten him.'

The idea of beating him and seeking revenge gave her a new found strength. She would survive this and make him pay for everything he'd done. Forcing her eyes open, she watched as the horse came to a sudden stop in front of her, scattering more sand across her naked body. The light grew dim as she watched the rider dismount and kneel down next to her.

Gentle hand smoothed the hair from her face. All she saw was a pair of wide green eyes. Slowly moving her cracked lips, she whispered, "Please, help me."

And then everything went black.

****************
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New Mexico Territory, August 1889
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"Damn it, Hilde! Enough is enough!" He threw his hands down on the table and pushed the chair back, towering over her.

Hilde looked up from her plate and met the glare of his murderous green eyes with one of her own. Rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, she ignored the comment and went back to eating her meal.

She had heard this speech before, too many times to count. It was always the same thing, even if it came from a different person. Lifting her napkin from her lap, she wiped the side of her mouth trying to block out the deafening tone that resounded in the tiny room.

"You can't go on living your life this way! I have half a mind to tie you up and not let you leave this house..."

The sentence Trowa Barton had been yelling loud enough for the entire territory to hear died quickly on his lips as he came face to face with the end of a six-shooter.

"No one, and I repeat, No one is *ever* going to tie me up again! Am I making myself clear?" The venom dripping off her voice could turn a man's blood cold. Her gaze narrowed on the man that stood directly on the other side of the dinner table.

A hand reached for the barrel of the gun, pulling the weapon from her hands. Hilde felt a heated blush rise in her cheeks and the familiar lump in her throat. She slowly tilted her head to the side and looking into the compassionate face of her friend. His soft blue eyes held concern as he safely laid the gun on the table.

Squaring her shoulders, she addressed the two men that had been her saviors. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." Biting her bottom lip, she sat back down in her chair and quit wringing her hands in her lap.

Quatre took in her small frame as she picked up her fork and began to eat again. "Hilde, Trowa and I are extremely worried about you. Your...profession isn't exactly...feminine. It's down right dangerous."

Hilde scoffed as she slid the fork out of her mouth allowing the small piece of chicken to melt on her tongue. Quatre was the ever-present voice of reason within this strange family, and he was managed to smooth the ruffled feathers she would get when fighting with Trowa. "I know, Quatre, but would you rather have me doing what I do, or have me selling my favors down at Miss Catalonia's."

For the first time since being taken in by the both of them, Hilde watched anger rise into Quatre's face. "A lady should never talk that way." The simple statement was spoken calmly enough but there was an underlying hint of extreme rage in his voice.

The retort 'I'll never be a lady' sat on the tip of her tongue and Hilde found herself biting it so hard, that the iron taste of blood filled her mouth. She exchanged glances with Trowa across the table, and a truce was called for the rest of dinner.

Quatre changed the subject and began talking about the new family that had settled down about two miles east of the ranch. Apparently, the young woman was from an extremely well to do English family back in Boston. She had fallen in love with the son of a Japanese immigrant. When the family found out about the young woman's infatuation with the man, the family arranged for tickets to send her to stay with her brother in England. But when the time came for the carriage to pick her up and take her to the harbor, they were already on a train bound for the territory.

"The Yuy's will begin building their homestead within the next month. Heero is hoping that they will get it completed before the winter and well in time before Relena gives birth." Quatre cleared his throat and looked toward Hilde, who had taken up to playing with her food half way through the story.

Trowa pushed his empty plate aside. "How old is Relena?"

"She'll be 19 at the end of the month." Quatre stared at his friend and silently begged him not to start another fight. He knew where Trowa was going with this idea and it would only lead to blood shed.

"She's 19, has a husband and a child on the way."

"Don't start on me, Trowa."

"Hilde, you're 18! Most girls your age have a husband and at least two kids. They have a steady family life, and are not running wild around the territory!"

Hilde threw her fork down on the table and pushed away from it so fast that her chair toppled over. "You are *not* my father! My father is dead." Without a backward glance, she grabbed her hat off the corner of the table, jammed it on her head and marched out of the room, the sounds of her footsteps fading as she headed out to the porch.

Shaking his head, Quatre ran his callused hands across his face. "In the short time she's been with us, we've taught her how to shoot a gun and take care of herself, because she asked us too. We have to trust her just like she trusts us, Trowa. No matter how tough she is on the outside, she's still hurting on the inside."

"I just want her to be happy, she deserves that much." Trowa leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "I'll never forget the day I found her..." He drew in a ragged breath, trying to wipe the disturbing images from his mind. "I could never have imagined that she would take it this far. Every time she sets foot off this property, I wonder if she'll make it back alive or in a wooden box."

Quatre took his eyes off his companion and looked at the door that Hilde had just walked out of. He wished he could comfort Trowa's fears by telling him that everything would be all right, but he couldn't do it. A lump of fear caught in his throat at the thought that Hilde may not come back from her next outing.

****************

Hilde sat on the wooden railing that wrapped around the patio. With her elbows on her knees, she held her head in her hands, and looked out into the beautiful colors of the setting sun.

Trowa's words had wounded her more deeply than she would ever show. She would never be a lady. All the promise of blossoming into womanhood was stolen from her two weeks after her 15th birthday, and there was no possible way for her to get it back. There were only a few professions that a woman of her 'standing' could ever do, and she refused to let any man have any type of control over her.

'Only one loose end to still tie up.' The thought made her happy and sad at the same time. Her revenge was nearly complete, just one thing stood in the way, but not for much longer. But what would she do once she had finished. Hilde shook her head, casting the wayward thought to the back of her mind. She needed a clear, sharp mind when she left at first light.

The first stars of twilight began to appear as Hilde pushed off the railing and headed back into the house. Tomorrow morning would come soon enough, and once she was on the trail, she doubted that she would get another peaceful nights sleep. She stopped at the door and removed her boots, leaving them turned upside down by the door.

Padding silently along the wooden floors of the house, Hilde past by the sitting room and found Quatre fast asleep in the chair, an open book lying in his lap. As quietly as she could, she picked up his book, placing the marker inside the yellowed pages and set it down on the small chair side table. Grabbing the nearby quilt, she pulled it over him, stoked the fire a little, bring the dying embers back to life.

"Thank you both, for everything." Hilde whispered as she leaned down and placed a small kiss on his cheek. Quatre stirred and Hilde took it as a sign to retire from the room. She climbed the stairs and when she reached the landing, she noticed the green eyes watching her from the shadows.

"Be careful."

"I promise."

She felt his hand reach out and gently squeeze her shoulder. Just as quickly as he appeared, Trowa disappeared. With a heavy sigh, Hilde continued on her way. Opening the door that lead to her room, she moved inside and collapsed on the hay filled mattress. Completely clothed, she clutched her pillow to her chest and allowed sleep to over take her.

With the moon watching from overhead, she dreamed of revenge. She dreamed of peace. And she dreamed of love.

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Albuquerque
New Mexico Territory, August 1889
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'The Greenhorn is going to get himself killed.' Hilde mused as she nursed her glass of bitter beer. Setting the glass down on the scarred tabletop, she took a slow drag of her cigarette and watched him from under the brim of her hat.

She had a hard time trying to keep her chuckle under her breath. 'Black dress shirt, black pants, black hat, black duster; didn't any one tell the city boy that in the west you don't wear black. It's too damn hot.'

He'd stick out like a sore thumb any where he went; if not for the fact that he was dressed completely in black, but for the meter long braid that hung down the back of his duster. The idiot in black walked over to the bar, and signaled the bartender with a wave of his hand. Tipping his Stetson to the side, he turned around and leaned his back up against the high bar. While he waited for his shot of whiskey, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pocket watch, checking the time. It was then that Hilde noticed the gun belt hidden beneath the duster jacket.

Something about this guy didn't seem right. He was being too cocky to be someone fresh off the train, and she'd never seen him in this part of the territory before. Her eyes narrowed as she let her gaze run the length of him. As she continued to make her assessment of the stranger, a couple of the local outlaws decided to play around with the 'city boy.'

Matthews and Snake pushed away from the table next to hers and casually strode over to the bar, taking flanking positions on either side of the stranger. The bartender tapped the man in black on the shoulder and handed him a shot glass full of golden brown liquid. Before, the man had a chance to place the rim of the glass to his lips; Matthews pulled it out of his hand.

"Hey there, 'city boy', I think this maybe a little too much for the likes of you." Matthews laughed as he tipped the glass back and downed the contents in one gulp.

Snake laughed at his friend. "Yup, I think we need to get the 'girlie' here a sarsaparilla." He reached behind the man and grabbed hold of his hair and began waving it around causing a few of the other patrons in the saloon to laugh.

With her feet still propped up on the table, Hilde sat up a little straighter. Taking her thumb she pushed the brim of her hat back slightly and then casually let her hand fall down to her side, allowing it to come to rest on the hilt of her Colt. She let her eyes roam down his figure again, stopping when they landed on the bottom of his duster. The stranger's jacket showed signs of wear and was slightly faded. His boots on the other hand, told her that he wasn't a 'city boy' at all; he could be considered dangerous.

"I suggest you let go of my braid before I have to kill you." The temperature in the room seemed to drop a couple of degrees as the stranger's frosty tone broke the laughter and replaced it with silence.

"Aww, look, Snake. City boy's all upset about his hair, maybe we should go get one of the girls from upstairs and have them fix it for him."

"Maybe we should call him 'Pretty boy' instead of 'City boy', whatcha think about that boss?"

Matthews snorted and moved to stand directly in front of the stranger. With a careful flick of his wrist, he knocked the stranger's black hat off his head and with a smirk brought his boot down on the Stetson. Matthews leaned closer and smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "I think you're right, he is a 'Pretty Boy'." Snake snickered, causing Matthews to push the man's temper even further. "You know what 'Pretty Boy', I don't think I like you."

The muscles in the stranger's cheek flexed as he turned the full force of his gaze on the man in front of him. "Well, ugly, I *know* I don't like you."

With Snake cheering in the background, Matthews cracked his knuckles and clenched his hand into a fist. "I think it's about time some one re-arranged your face." Pulling his arm back, Matthews let his fist fly.

Hilde held back the small gasp from escaping her lips when she heard Matthews hand make contact with the braided man's cheek. But what really shocked her was when the newcomer started laughing. And not just any laugh, but a deep foreboding one.

The bar came to life after the sound of laughter filled the air. Other people sensing a fight started a massive brawl of their own; overturning tables, sending poker chips and glass of liquor to the floor. A couple of the girls squealed and ran for the stairs, while other bar patrons decided to push up against the wall, rather than join the fight. Grabbing hold of Matthews while he was still stunned, the newcomer gave him a head butt before planting a fist in his stomach. Snake came at him from behind with a grunt, giving the stranger enough time to duck and to use Snake's momentum to throw him over his back. Two more men chose to rush him the moment his back was turned.

Unable to stand the unfair odds any longer, Hilde decided to get involved. She didn't even move from her chair in the corner as she lifted her six-shooter and shot the broken bottles out of both of the brawlers' hands before they could strike out with the sharp glass. While braided man fought with Matthews again, Snake reached for his belt and drew his weapon. Without having to readjust her aim she fired off two more shots, one knocking the revolver out of Snake's hand and the other pushing it farther out of his reach. Snake screamed when the gun was knocked out of his hand, and ran out of the bar claiming someone shot off his thumb. Making quick work out of Matthews, the man in black nearly tossed him out of the swinging doors. The crowd quieted down and resumed their normal activities as if the fight was nothing out of the ordinary.

Hilde quickly re-holstered her weapon and took another drag of her cigarette. She watched as the idiot who just cost her the lead she had been working on leaned over and picked up his hat, brushing broken pieces of glass and dust from the material. He pulled it back on his head and looked over in her direction, tipping it ever so slightly in a gesture of thanks.

Stepping over to the bar once more, the stranger pulled back the edge of his duster and addressed the bartender. "The name's Duo Maxwell; US Marshal." Upon hearing that a US Marshal was in the bar, a couple of men made hasty exits out of the saloon. From where she was sitting, she could see the light reflect off of the Silver Star and Circle badge pinned to his chest. "I'm looking for a kid that goes by the name 'Barton' in these parts. You know him?"

Hearing the alias she had been using, Hilde swung her attention between the marshal and the door. 'There's no way out.' She looked over her right shoulder at the window, trying to figure out if she had enough time to crash through it, mount her horse and get the hell out of town before it was too late. The sound of the wooden chair being pulled across the floor echoed in her ears and without turning her head around, she knew it was already too late.

***************

'This scrawny little guy is the best bounty hunter in these parts?' Duo stared at the young man on the other side of the table, nearly positive that the bartender had made some type of mistake. Okay, so the kid was good with a gun and had saved his life, but everyone gets a couple of lucky shots.

'But four shots in a row?' A little voice in the back of his mind spoke up.

Pushing his hat back even farther on his head, Duo Maxwell propped his feet up on the opposite side of the table. He tucked his hands behind his head, like he didn't have a care in the world. "Your name's Barton, right?"

Duo watched as the kid chewed on the end of the cherry-root cigarette in his mouth. He began growing impatient as the youth took forever to turn around and face him. Leaning forward he was about to ask the question again, when the boy pulled down the brim of his hat and swung around. The boy faltered as he looked at Duo from the shadows underneath the hat, his eyes assessing everything at once. In response, Duo narrowed his own eyes causing his brow to pull together into a puzzled look. Without blinking, the kid shook his head up and down, confirming that he was the bounty hunter.

One corner of Duo's mouth turned upward. "Damn, kid, do you know how hard you are to track down? I've traveled clear across the territory in the past two months, following a bunch of different leads just to find you."

In response, the kid known as 'Barton' took a drag of his cigarette and blew the sweet smelling smoke directly in his face. Had it been another man, Duo would have probably punched his face in, but Barton was known as a hard-ass and one that didn't have too much to say.

Blowing out a deep breath, Duo turned to his side and reached under his jacket. The kid moved so fast that he hadn't been able to catch his movements. Sitting against his temple was the cold tip of a gun, with the kid's thumb pulling back the hammer and his index finger slightly squeezing the trigger. Not too many people had ever been able to make him nervous, but the kid that held the gun to his head, staring down at him with those piercing blue eyes made the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. He slowly pulled his hands back and kept them out over the table.

"Listen, kid, I've got a proposition for you." Duo watched those eyes narrow even further. He breathed in a sigh of relief as the gun was pulled away from his head. Barton flipped the weapon around, spinning it directly into his holster. 'Impressive.' Barton kept his eyes trained on Duo as he sunk back down into the wooden chair.

Duo sighed. "I've got an offer for you. I need your help tracking down a guy who's been reported in the surrounding area." There was still no response from the kid. "The US Marshall's Service is willing to compensate you handsomely for your time." Again, all he got was that the stone-faced expression. He was just about to give up when Barton spoke.

"How much and who?"

The kid's voice caught him completely off guard; he wasn't expecting him to sound so young, considering that he guessed Barton's age to be somewhere around sixteen. Shrugging it off, he smiled. "Do you mind?" He asked, motioning to his jacket. The kid nodded, allowing Duo to retrieve the piece of paper from his duster.

Unfolding the yellowed paper from his pocket, Duo laid it on the table between them. "His name is Oz Blackburn. He's wanted in this territory, as well as in the state of Texas for not only robbing the rails, but also for the robberies and murders of various Homesteaders." He paused and rubbed the cheek that received the direct hit from Matthews punch. "Most of his gang has already been brought in by a couple of bounty hunters in this territory, but somehow this guy keeps evading capture."

Duo stole a quick glance at the kid, noticing the intense way he was glaring at the picture. His face didn't betray any of his emotions, however his eyes grew considerable dark. The kid reached out and snatched the wanted poster off the table and stuffed it into his pants.

"Deal."

Duo looked on as the kid pushed back out of the chair and began moving towards the exit. "Hey, don't you want to know what information I have on the guy?"

Barton paused at the exit and rested his hands on the swinging doors. He turned his head in his direction, keeping his eyes shielded with the brim of his hat. "The livery. Fifteen minutes." Swinging around, he threw the doors open and strode out of the saloon.

Shaking his head, Duo tried to clear up all the confusion that had just taken place, but to no avail. He reached into his pocket and dug out a few coins, tossing them on the table. He had come to town to buy the kid's help in find Blackburn, which he had accomplished. But for some reason as he made his way out of the saloon and down the alley towards the livery, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had bought more than he had bargained for.

***************

Hilde made it as far as the alley across the street before her stomach turned. She spit one last time and used the sleeve of her own duster to wipe at the corners of her mouth. It was bad enough that his face was in her nightmares. Digging into the waistband of her pants, she pulled out the poster and took another look at it.

The sketch artist that drew his picture for the wanted poster hadn't missed a detail. His oily black hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail; those tiny eyes hidden within his sunken cheeks and that crocked, arrogant grin. She raised an eyebrow when she noticed, according to his picture he carried a scar that ran diagonally across his left eye. Biting the inside of her cheek, she held back the snicker at her handiwork.

Tossing it to the street, she took out another cigarette and placed it in her mouth. She leaned up against the side of the general store, picked up her boot and ran the match across the sole, causing the match-head to catch fire. After a couple of seconds, the end of the cigarette was lit and she inhaled the relaxing scent of the smoke. Hilde looked down at the ground and without a second thought threw the lit match onto the wanted poster. When most of it had been destroyed, she stomped on it a couple of times, killing the fire and leaving ashes that scattered in the warm breeze.

Taking a deep breath, Hilde turned away from the alley and began making her way down the main street. 'How in the hell did I get mixed up with a US Marshal?' She was ready to deny the fact she was 'Barton', until she turned around and faced him and stared into the most beautiful set of eyes she had ever seen. At the point, all her common sense deserted her and she found herself gawking at him like one of the saloon girls. Anger welled up inside of her as she recalled the way her resolve had slipped and the way she had acted. She'd never pulled a gun on anyone before without being provoked, but something about him rubbed her wrong. And just when she was about to turn down his offer, he produced the picture of Blackburn.

Hilde kicked at a few of the stones in the dirt road. 'Damn him.' Just as she was about to kick the next rock, she paused. And a slow smile crossed her face as a thought came to her mind. Not only could she would she be able to get to Blackburn, but she could claim the reward money and send it to Quatre and Trowa. 'Then maybe they could purchase extra livestock and bring in more money. I could finally pay them back for everything they've done for me.' The only spur in her side was putting up with the cocky US Marshal in order to get the bounty. Mumbling a few choice words under her breath, Hilde walked into the telegram office.

A few minutes later, the telegram to Quatre and Trowa had been sent, informing them of her location and that she wouldn't be in contact with them for a while. The telegram was sent not only for their peace of mind, but hers as well. As she made her way back to the livery, she took notice of the sun. If they left now, they could get about six good hours of riding in before they had to stop for the night. Hilde rounded the corner and spotted her mustang tethered to the old wooden post, saddled and ready to go.

He was such a beautiful creature, wild and free-spirited. It was the free will that he possessed that made her call him Renegade. As she made her way closer to him, his ears perked up and he tilted his head back and breathed deeply. He pawed at the ground when she stopped in front of him. A giggle escaped her lips as Renegade nudged the side of her face with his soft muzzle. Unable to help herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Are you ready to finish this?" She whispered into his gullet. Renegade pushed his head farther down, and began pushing at her the pocket inside her duster. Reaching inside, she produced a sugar cube, which the horse immediately licked out of her hand.

"You'll spoil that horse."

Hilde didn't need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. She could feel the weight of the sharp end of his stare digging into her back. Adjusting her hat and bandana, she finally turned around to face him, but came face to face with his horse instead. Hilde was sure the one look she was shooting at the idiot looking down on her would have caused the local undertaker to start taking his measurements.

Placing her foot in the left stirrup, she pushed herself off the ground and threw her right leg over the saddle. Hilde grabbed hold off the leather reins and turned Renegade away from the livery, making her way down the road. She bit her lip and rolled her eyes in frustration as she moved in rhythm with Renegade's trot. 'That damn arrogant man. Again, how did I get myself into this mess? Traveling across the territory, looking for Oz dragging this idiot with me. My common sense has been shot ever since I laid eyes on him.' Renegade snorted as she tried to over come the feeling of uneasiness by shifting in the saddle. Her mind on her thoughts, she didn't realize that Duo had caught up with her until he swung around in front of her, causing Renegade to rear up and stop.

"Were you planning on waiting for me?" Duo asked in a stern voice.

'Even his damn horse is black.' Running her hand down the side of Renegade's neck, she tried to calm the animal. "No." Renegade's nostrils flared and he began to nip at the neck of Duo's horse. Hilde pulled hard at the bit in his mouth, trying to keep Renegade's temper under control.

"Look Barton, you have no idea where we're headed. The last information that I received on his whereabouts showed that Blackburn was heading west toward..."

She shook her head. "You're wrong."

An incredulous look was cast in her direction and he narrowed his eyes when he spoke to her. "If you know so much, then why don't you tell me where he's headed?"

"South to Mexico."

Hilde felt her lips curl with amusement at the shocked look on his face. Setting her voice as deeply as she could, she said, "We're losing light, Maxwell." Clicking her tongue and slapping the reins against Renegade's withers, she wheeled around him and took off, heading south out of town and leaving Duo Maxwell behind, watching her through a cloud of dust.


TBC...

[PeRiDoTs13]

well well. muy interesante. another fic where hil is purposely passing 4 a boy, but in a very different setting. very different....

[krzkid]

this is very well written and very different from the others... i enjoy it very much..please finish it =)

[Macncheesegal3]

this is really good...it keeps your attention...look forward to reading the next chapter...

[Roa_Aoife]

great fic! I love where this is going. The pictures you paint are simply wonderful. Please update soon.