The Last Sunset

I need some

horseshoe nails.

Well, I have all sizes.

Some new and

some old. Select.

How much are they?

I'm looking for a man

named O'Malley.

Fellow about your height, wears

black pants and shirt, black boots.

Carries a derringer.

He always wears a loud-colored

scarf around his neck.

Has a hole in his chin.

Here.

It's worth 50 pesos

if anybody's seen him.

They are desolate

they cannot help you.

But, 50 pesos, seor? This man

must be a very dear friend, no?

No.

Jack-boy!

You be quiet.

Good evening.

Good evening.

The name's O'Malley.

How do you do, Mr. O'Malley?

I'm Mrs. John Breckenridge.

My husband's gone to

Calvillo on business.

Sorry to hear that. I was hoping to

ask him for a night's hospitality.

Mr. Breckenridge has always

welcomed strangers to the plateau.

I'm grateful to

Mr. Breckenridge.

Won't anybody take care

of the gentleman's horse?

Mr. O'Malley,

this is Milton Wing,

Mr. Breckenridge's

ranch manager.

Howdy.

This horse's been

lathered up some.

Well, I'd say that's because

he was run some, wouldn't you?

Guess so.

This is Jose. Rosario.

My daughter.

Oh.

She favors you.

You're a lucky young lady.

This is Melissa Linda Anthony

Breckenridge. We call her Melissa.

Well, how do you do,

Melissa?

Oh.

Thank you.

Well, I'd be most grateful to

Mr. Breckenridge for my supper.

Are you a cowboy,

Mr. O'Malley?

What have I done

to give you that idea?

You don't dress like one,

so I just wondered.

No, I don't like

cows much.

And the only way I really like

a horse is when he's hitched

to a nice two-seater buggy

with good springs.

I ran into a cowboy this

morning up at the pass.

Seemed to be looking

for somebody.

Tall man?

Sure was.

I never really met

an American cowboy.

You'd be disappointed.

Was he riding a blue roan?

That's right.

What makes you think

I'd be disappointed?

Well, you see, cowboys

aren't very bright.

They're always broke

and generally they're drunk.

Did he carry his

gun on the left?

Yep... 45 on the left.

You may get the chance to meet

one in the flesh real soon.

You know this fellow?

I know of him. We've

never met, but we will.

Mrs. Breckenridge, will you

do me the honor of dancing?

No.

I dance vary rarely, Mr. O'Malley.

And then only with my husband.

He's to be envied.

Then dance with me, Mr.

O'Malley. I love to dance.

I'd be delighted.

Do you want to try it again? Sure...

It's time for bed, Melissa.

Oh, no, not yet.

Yes. Gracias, muchachos.

Are you going to sleep in

the house, Mr. O'Malley?

You know Mr. Breckenridge has a special

room in the toolhouse for guests.

Oh, well. Good night.

Good night.

I'll show him.

Never mind,

I'll show him myself.

Here's your lamp.

Your bed's up there.

Why did you

have to come back?

I ran into somebody who told me

your married name and where you were.

I started riding

that same day.

You're lying.

You came here to hide.

There's someone on my trail,

sure. There always is.

But I haven't been running away from

him, I've just been coming to you.

And now I'm here.

And I'm not hiding.

And I'm going to stay.

No, Bren.

You're leaving tomorrow

and you're not coming back.

Belle.

I can't leave you now.

I never did

leave you, really.

All these years I've remembered

you as you were that night.

A pretty girl coming down

the steps in a yellow dress.

And another boy

asked me to dance.

You began that awful whistle

and just watched for a minute.

Then you tore my flowers off

and knocked him down.

I know, but that's all in the

past. That part of me is over.

It took three men to stop

you. You were killing him.

I'm trying to tell you that I've

changed. I'm completely different now.

You'll see.

You still got

that yellow dress?

I burned it.

I'll get you another one.

Oh, Belle. Belle...

Belle, remember that night?

The music floating down

from your uncle's house,

me sitting by my campfire,

thinking of you dancing

in the arms of other men

and wanting to kill someone.

And then I looked up,

you were standing there.

Standing beside my fire in

your yellow dress like a flame.

Oh, Belle.

Belle.

Oh, please,

keep away from me.

I'm afraid of you.

Whatever you say, Belle.

Why do you wear

your gun in your belt?

Well, I like to know

exactly where it is.

In your belt, you can feel it right

up there against you all the time.

Papa says a derringer hasn't got

any range. He always wears a Colt 45.

Oh, I'm sorry

to hear that, miss.

Why?

Well, no handgun's accurate

beyond 20 feet.

And no holster gun can

draw as fast as a derringer.

My papa greases the

inside of his holster.

I'm afraid that wouldn't

do him any good.

Also, the derringer carries

a bigger slug, miss.

You can call me

Melissa, if you like.

Well, let's just compromise.

I'll call you Missy.

What's the matter?

Oh, it's only Papa.

Good morning,

child of my heart.

Rosario, come

get Papa's horse.

Good morning, my dear.

Good, I say, because it's one of the

last we'll spend on this accursed ranch.

Did you find trail hands?

Just one.

But I'm sure two or three

more will join us directly.

Not many people want to

work for a living these days.

Oh, John,

this is Mr. O'Malley.

How do you do?

Welcome, Mr. O'Malley.

Permit me to offer you the

hospitality of these poor acres.

Thank you,

Mr. Breckenridge.

We have a saying down here in

Mexico, to which I hardly subscribe.

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