Her name was Lottie, she was hotter than a two-dollar pistol and twice as dangerous. She could shoot the eye off a rattler at a hundred yards, down a bottle of whiskey without flinching, and ride circles around the best cowboys in the West. The men tried to keep up, but Lottie left ‘em all in the dust—guns smoking, whiskey pouring, and horses running. She had a grin that made hearts skip, but her aim made ‘em stop altogether. The cowboys didn’t just fear her—they admired her, even if it burned to admit that no one could match Lottie, not even on their best day.
