"There would be no reason for Easton not to hire you again."
Unless Easton had seen a wanter poster with her likeness on it recently from that incident just a few months ago in Arizona. What a terrible decision that had turned out to be. She’d been so anxious to prove herself capable of being more than just Bobby’s bed-warmer. Had she only known it would all come crashing down only weeks later; that Robert Baker - the man that had seemed nearly as invincible as Connor - would be shot dead; she likely would not have been as quick to ask to be involved in their jobs.
"I would be glad to accompany you. I'll be happy to remain by your side for as long as you want me to."
She moved closer to him so that there were only inches between them, remembering the similar words Bobby had said to her 4 years ago: "Why dontcha come with me, Angel? You can stay as long as you want to."
Connor, she thought, was not the same kind of man as Bobby, despite a few shared traits that neither would have likely admitted. But didn't she owe him at least what Bobby had known?
"Connor? Are you suggestin' to make an honest woman outta me?" she tried to put a teasing, almost flirtatious tone to her question to soften the implication. But it was there anyway: she wasn't an honest woman. Heck, Connor didn't even know her name wasn't 'Jackson'.
Unless Easton had seen a wanter poster with her likeness on it recently from that incident just a few months ago in Arizona. What a terrible decision that had turned out to be. She’d been so anxious to prove herself capable of being more than just Bobby’s bed-warmer. Had she only known it would all come crashing down only weeks later; that Robert Baker - the man that had seemed nearly as invincible as Connor - would be shot dead; she likely would not have been as quick to ask to be involved in their jobs.
"I would be glad to accompany you. I'll be happy to remain by your side for as long as you want me to."
She moved closer to him so that there were only inches between them, remembering the similar words Bobby had said to her 4 years ago: "Why dontcha come with me, Angel? You can stay as long as you want to."
Connor, she thought, was not the same kind of man as Bobby, despite a few shared traits that neither would have likely admitted. But didn't she owe him at least what Bobby had known?
"Connor? Are you suggestin' to make an honest woman outta me?" she tried to put a teasing, almost flirtatious tone to her question to soften the implication. But it was there anyway: she wasn't an honest woman. Heck, Connor didn't even know her name wasn't 'Jackson'.
Shaking off the nightmare was harder than Jack had expected. He sat at the end of the bed, rubbing his eyes while he rested his head in his hands. He felt the need to physically rid him of the idea that PJ would get rid of him, yet every time he closed his eyes, the scene replayed in his mind. He’d have to do something else that could keep him occupied.
Jack stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He considered getting some coffee from the bar, but the longer he had to keep himself company, the longer he’d have to remember the nightmare, and the longer it would take for him to shake it off and forget it.
He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there, but a few minutes later, he stood outside of the room, Dorothy was watching Hank in. Jack was certain that he wouldn’t get more sleep that night, so better he did something useful, and let Dorothy and Connor have some rest.
“Darlin’?” Jack said as he opened the door, and looked at Connor and Dorothy. “Oh, ya here too, buddy? I just had a brief snooze, so I can watch ‘im. Y’all should get a lil’ sleep as well, so we’re all ready ta move on tomorrow.”
Jack stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He considered getting some coffee from the bar, but the longer he had to keep himself company, the longer he’d have to remember the nightmare, and the longer it would take for him to shake it off and forget it.
He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there, but a few minutes later, he stood outside of the room, Dorothy was watching Hank in. Jack was certain that he wouldn’t get more sleep that night, so better he did something useful, and let Dorothy and Connor have some rest.
“Darlin’?” Jack said as he opened the door, and looked at Connor and Dorothy. “Oh, ya here too, buddy? I just had a brief snooze, so I can watch ‘im. Y’all should get a lil’ sleep as well, so we’re all ready ta move on tomorrow.”
Despite his stifled yawn, Maggie humoured Mr. Salisbury and gave him a little chuckle at his attempt at a joke. Maybe he’d had nightmares as well? Maggie didn’t know if she found it comforting if he had or not, but if it was something plaguing every single person in town, it was more reason to get the heck out of there as soon as possible. M
“Well, it sure is good to know that you aren’t just sittin’ idly by, when ya can’t sleep,” Maggie said, making sure to stand close enough to Charlie that he could feel her presence, even if they were both speaking to Mr Salisbury. She did, however make sure that the distance between them didn’t look inappropriate in Salisbury’s eyes.
“I’ll take two of your cheapest whiskeys,” Maggie told Luke, eyeing in option to feed her addiction, without causing too much suspicion. “With that scratch on ‘is shoulder, he will need more than just one drink,” she added a little lower, not wanting to let Charlie hear that the drink was for him, and to let the saloonkeeper know that it wasn’t for her.
Maggie got the two glasses and followed Charlie to the room, he had gotten. “I am sure, I can get it stitched up nice for ya,” Maggie said as she entered, choosing to sit down on the chair rather than on the bed. She lifted her eyes to meet Charlie’s, and batted her eyelashes a few times.
“Thank you for not findin’ me crazy, Charlie... I’ve never done somethin’ so wild before.”
“Well, it sure is good to know that you aren’t just sittin’ idly by, when ya can’t sleep,” Maggie said, making sure to stand close enough to Charlie that he could feel her presence, even if they were both speaking to Mr Salisbury. She did, however make sure that the distance between them didn’t look inappropriate in Salisbury’s eyes.
“I’ll take two of your cheapest whiskeys,” Maggie told Luke, eyeing in option to feed her addiction, without causing too much suspicion. “With that scratch on ‘is shoulder, he will need more than just one drink,” she added a little lower, not wanting to let Charlie hear that the drink was for him, and to let the saloonkeeper know that it wasn’t for her.
Maggie got the two glasses and followed Charlie to the room, he had gotten. “I am sure, I can get it stitched up nice for ya,” Maggie said as she entered, choosing to sit down on the chair rather than on the bed. She lifted her eyes to meet Charlie’s, and batted her eyelashes a few times.
“Thank you for not findin’ me crazy, Charlie... I’ve never done somethin’ so wild before.”
"Hm?"
Honestly, Dorothy should have known better than to try and use an idiom with Connor. Despite all his time among settlers, his grasp on English was strictly bookish in nature- his eloquence was a clear sign that Connor had actually learned English from books and not through interacting with people, a rare thing among Native Americans but then again, Connor was a rare individual indeed.
Rareness came with its own troubles, and Connor did not understand what Dorothy meant by her expression.
"But.. you are a very honest individual..?" He said sounding perplexed until his brain finally shifted gears. His eyes widened and he understood what Dorothy was suggesting.
Despite his dark dark skin, his blush was clearly visible. Suddenly, Connor was no longer an imposing force of nature, an unstoppable fighter, killer of men and beasts a like. He was a confused, embarrassed youth.
"I..." He began to stammer until Jack arrived. Connor could honestly say he had never -ever- been so glad of seeing Jack and his terrible timing.
Saying absolutely nothing, Connor firmly pulled his wolf hood back over his face to hide his blush. Then, he briskly stood up and marched right out the door, almost shoulder checking Jack on the way out.
His Mentor had always told him. Better to remain silent and let folk thing you're a fool, than open your mouth and prove them right.
Connor had been caught off guard by Dorothy there, better to look like a fool and say nothing than to stumble all over his words.
If not stopped, Connor would simply head straight for his room and promptly collapse in bed. It had been a long day anyway...
Honestly, Dorothy should have known better than to try and use an idiom with Connor. Despite all his time among settlers, his grasp on English was strictly bookish in nature- his eloquence was a clear sign that Connor had actually learned English from books and not through interacting with people, a rare thing among Native Americans but then again, Connor was a rare individual indeed.
Rareness came with its own troubles, and Connor did not understand what Dorothy meant by her expression.
"But.. you are a very honest individual..?" He said sounding perplexed until his brain finally shifted gears. His eyes widened and he understood what Dorothy was suggesting.
Despite his dark dark skin, his blush was clearly visible. Suddenly, Connor was no longer an imposing force of nature, an unstoppable fighter, killer of men and beasts a like. He was a confused, embarrassed youth.
"I..." He began to stammer until Jack arrived. Connor could honestly say he had never -ever- been so glad of seeing Jack and his terrible timing.
Saying absolutely nothing, Connor firmly pulled his wolf hood back over his face to hide his blush. Then, he briskly stood up and marched right out the door, almost shoulder checking Jack on the way out.
His Mentor had always told him. Better to remain silent and let folk thing you're a fool, than open your mouth and prove them right.
Connor had been caught off guard by Dorothy there, better to look like a fool and say nothing than to stumble all over his words.
If not stopped, Connor would simply head straight for his room and promptly collapse in bed. It had been a long day anyway...
Sydney knew there would be other bigger bounties they would be able to hunt. Maybe not in this small town but in the area at least. He was not concerned about any of the other bounties. His concern was Dorothy who was under his charge when she escaped. He wanted to take her back to Tombstone to pay for her crimes. That was all there was too it. Sure he felt a certain connection with her but he wanted to see that she lived a better life.
"Get it cleaned out Gene," he said referring to the cellar.
Sydney looked back towards Lance when he asked if he could leave. There was really no reason for him to stick around. He did not plan on assisting them with searching for Dorothy or the two men with her. All that needed to be squared away was the bounty of the feline still sitting atop Sydney's horse. With a nod of his head he had Lance lead the way towards the Huntsman.
Sydney looked between the one brother and then back towards Lance. They were almost finished with the task of the cat. Then they would be able to relax a little before the sun rose. He hoped that Charlie remembered to find them some rooms in town. It would not be bad sleeping out under the stars but he was looking forward to sleeping in an actual bed. It would not take long for them to reach their destination.
"We have a dead feline for you," he said after the huntsman appeared.
"Get it cleaned out Gene," he said referring to the cellar.
Sydney looked back towards Lance when he asked if he could leave. There was really no reason for him to stick around. He did not plan on assisting them with searching for Dorothy or the two men with her. All that needed to be squared away was the bounty of the feline still sitting atop Sydney's horse. With a nod of his head he had Lance lead the way towards the Huntsman.
Sydney looked between the one brother and then back towards Lance. They were almost finished with the task of the cat. Then they would be able to relax a little before the sun rose. He hoped that Charlie remembered to find them some rooms in town. It would not be bad sleeping out under the stars but he was looking forward to sleeping in an actual bed. It would not take long for them to reach their destination.
"We have a dead feline for you," he said after the huntsman appeared.
Connor’s reaction was not wholly unexpected. And yet Dorothy immediately regretted her not-so-subtle hint at what she had been. What you’ll always be, a little voice hissed.
Of course a gentlemen - and that’s what Connor was, despite the outwardly feral appearance - wouldn’t want a thing to do with her now. Her throat felt momentarily tight, but she swallowed hard to force down the lump growing there.
“I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little more shut eye,” she claimed as she stood up quickly, then gestured to Hank to divert attention from herself for a moment. “Mind if we just leave him here and I bunk in your room?”
“Take ‘ese off, huh?” Hank requested tiredly, meaning the rope binding his hands behind his back. “Or least tie ‘em in front so’s I can get some sleep…”
Of course a gentlemen - and that’s what Connor was, despite the outwardly feral appearance - wouldn’t want a thing to do with her now. Her throat felt momentarily tight, but she swallowed hard to force down the lump growing there.
“I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little more shut eye,” she claimed as she stood up quickly, then gestured to Hank to divert attention from herself for a moment. “Mind if we just leave him here and I bunk in your room?”
“Take ‘ese off, huh?” Hank requested tiredly, meaning the rope binding his hands behind his back. “Or least tie ‘em in front so’s I can get some sleep…”
“It’s not crazy…” Charlie lied. Who cared if it was crazy?! He had a pretty girl here that was soooooo impressed with his bravery that she’d followed him for hundreds of miles. And now was claiming to want to sew his shirt, but as far as he could tell, she wasn’t carrying a needle and thread, so… his chances of getting lucky were feeling pretty high right about now.Maybe he should have known it was too good to be true, but it didn’t even cross his mind he was being played for a fool. He set down his whiskey and his bag, then took off his gun belt and laid it on the bed, so that it wouldn’t be in the way. “Matter a fact, I been thinkin’ bout you ever since Texas, Mary,” he said, extending a hand toward her, intending to pull her to her feet and plant a kiss right on her lips if she’d let him.
Constable Wyat readily agreed to clean out his cellar, promising to do it as soon as the sun came up.
When Dave, Lance, and Sydney enter the Hungry Huntsman, they see the various taxidermies: several deer heads on the walls. A pair of wild ducks are hung midway through the room, suspended from barely visible wire, positioned with their wings spread, as if in mid-flight. There is a black bear hide hung on the left wall. A fox carrying a pheasant in its mouth in one corner. A beaver gnawing on a tree in another. A jackalope head is mounted above the bar and a squirrel on the counter beneath it; standing upright with a miniature cowboy hat, a doll sized vest, and a tiny wooden gun in its paw.
They are greeted by the saloonkeeper, Lucien Salisbury, a man in his mid-forties. He looks tired. Borderline haggard ... like he's not gotten a good sleep in awhile.
"Well, there's a bit of good news," he says when Sydney tells him about the cat. "D'ya get the pair of 'em? O'Boyle, geez! You get into a fight with a skunk? Hope you ain't plannin' on sleepin' here tonight!" Now indoors, the trapper's odor was all the more noticeable.
Lance grinned and shrugged, his foul mood shedding a bit. He and Mr. Salisbury were obviously on good terms. "Couple days 'go," he said. "Had one get in my beaver trap. This's the thanks I get for gettin' him unstuck. Got the cat outside. Just one of 'em."
Lucien seemed content to take Lance's word for it and went to collect the money, returning with $25.
"Thought you said it was fifty!" Dave exclaimed at Lance.
"Fifty for the pair," the saloonkeep explained. After a little bit of figuring and splitting, Lance takes his 6 dollars and 25 cents and heads for the door without so much as a 'farewell' to Dave and Sydney.
"Do you fellows need rooms? Only got two left."
Maggie had to be careful with her acting now. Mary Keller was a good girl, with little knowledge and experience of the world. It would make sense for her to be virtuous and cautious, but not too much. She had, supposedly, traveled far after a man, she’d met and known for only a few days, so being too prim and careful would start to make her choices and priorities seem odd, which could ultimately give away her cover.
Charlie’s compliment had her looking down at her feet and back up again. She wanted to look flattered, but at the same time, also insecure, vulnerable, and innocent. Charlie hadn’t yet struck her as a man, who would maliciously and knowingly take advantage of a woman in that position. She wasn’t entirely sure about that hunch yet, so she’d have to be alert, in case he decided to reveal some unflattering, true colours.
Maggie took his hand and let him pull her to a stand. She stepped a little closer, effectively minimising the gap between them. She only wrapped one arm around his neck, so she didn’t accidentally touch his hurt shoulder. The other one rested passively on his chest.
She felt no tingling in her feet or butterflies in her stomach before the kiss. She hadn’t felt those sensations in years, and with the experiences in her past Maggie doubted that she’d feel them again. They were starting to become memories, like the pain from a bad injury. You remembered that it hurt, but couldn’t recall how bad.
The kiss was soft and gentle - enough to let Charlie know, she wanted to kiss him, too. It didn’t invite to much more than that, though. She was walking a fine line between giving him enough to keep him hooked, but also leave him wanting more. She slowly pulled away from his lips, and rested her head against his chest.
“I can’t stay tonight,” she said almost apologetically. But... If ya give me the shirt, I’ll bring it back in the morning?” She still didn’t let go of him, as she didn’t want to seem eager to leave his room.
Charlie’s compliment had her looking down at her feet and back up again. She wanted to look flattered, but at the same time, also insecure, vulnerable, and innocent. Charlie hadn’t yet struck her as a man, who would maliciously and knowingly take advantage of a woman in that position. She wasn’t entirely sure about that hunch yet, so she’d have to be alert, in case he decided to reveal some unflattering, true colours.
Maggie took his hand and let him pull her to a stand. She stepped a little closer, effectively minimising the gap between them. She only wrapped one arm around his neck, so she didn’t accidentally touch his hurt shoulder. The other one rested passively on his chest.
She felt no tingling in her feet or butterflies in her stomach before the kiss. She hadn’t felt those sensations in years, and with the experiences in her past Maggie doubted that she’d feel them again. They were starting to become memories, like the pain from a bad injury. You remembered that it hurt, but couldn’t recall how bad.
The kiss was soft and gentle - enough to let Charlie know, she wanted to kiss him, too. It didn’t invite to much more than that, though. She was walking a fine line between giving him enough to keep him hooked, but also leave him wanting more. She slowly pulled away from his lips, and rested her head against his chest.
“I can’t stay tonight,” she said almost apologetically. But... If ya give me the shirt, I’ll bring it back in the morning?” She still didn’t let go of him, as she didn’t want to seem eager to leave his room.
Images from the dream stuck to Jack like molasses, despite how much he’d rather just forgetting them. He’d had nightmares before, but they were usually gone within a few hours of waking up. Hopefully, that would happen today, too. For now, having a task to focus on might be his only chance of distraction.
“Sure thing, Darlin”, Jack agreed, moving out of the way, so Connor could get out. Usually he would have stood his ground, and they would have bumped shoulders. But right now, he was still too disoriented to be inconsiderate. Years of slaps to the arm and face by Esme Wilkerson had taught him some manners, which he apparently couldn’t suppress when he was tired.
He sat down at the spot where Connor’d just been, and dug through his pockets to find the key for her. When he did find it, he passed it to her, stealing a brief kiss in the process. He didn’t care about or even remember Hank’s presence, until the prisoner talked.
“Are ya too good ta sleep on yer belly?” Jack asked annoyed, not looking away from Dorothy.
“Sleep tight, Darlin’.”
“Sure thing, Darlin”, Jack agreed, moving out of the way, so Connor could get out. Usually he would have stood his ground, and they would have bumped shoulders. But right now, he was still too disoriented to be inconsiderate. Years of slaps to the arm and face by Esme Wilkerson had taught him some manners, which he apparently couldn’t suppress when he was tired.
He sat down at the spot where Connor’d just been, and dug through his pockets to find the key for her. When he did find it, he passed it to her, stealing a brief kiss in the process. He didn’t care about or even remember Hank’s presence, until the prisoner talked.
“Are ya too good ta sleep on yer belly?” Jack asked annoyed, not looking away from Dorothy.
“Sleep tight, Darlin’.”
A LONG TIME AGO
MONTANA
Connor snuck under the cover of the darkness, using the distraction of a great battle taking place in the distance to slip past the sentries of an army camp. He was on the prowl for a very particular target. This man had been eluding him for quite a while, but Connor was determined to find and kill this wretched Blue Coat. His death would bring chaos to the government army and would ensure that the tribes would be left alone for many more years.
As he snuck about the military camp in search for the Blue Coat commander, he instead found a man dressed in elegant finery. He was apparently waiting for him.
"Hello, Connor." The man, an obvious Englishman, dressed in a top hat, black expensive jacket and holding a cane, began to casually approach the Kiowa warrior dressed in wolf pelts.
"You look surprised. Expecting someone else, old boy?" The English nobleman gave a devilish smile, a subtle hint of his hand moving towards his belt.
Both of them reacted instantly, the two men drawing their revolvers and firing on each other at the same time. Connor and the Englishman darted to the side as they fired, avoiding each other's bullets and taking cover in one of the many tents surrounding the army camp.
The two fired blindly on each other, hoping to hit their target through the tents. When Connor had counted six shots fired, he snuck around the tent where the Englishman was taking cover in order to draw the fight up close where he thought he had the advantage.
As it turned out, the Englishman was waiting for him. Rather than sneak behind him as he had hoped, the Englishman turned quickly and drew a sabre almost slashing Connor's head off, it was only the Brave's quick reflexes that had him pull back and instead get a slash on his face.
Toughing out the pain, Connor drew his own cavalry sabre in his right hand and his spontoon tomahawk on the left before attacking the Englishman. For his part, the English fellow drew a main gauche parrying dagger on his off hand before the Brave engaged him.
The two fought viciously, grunting and slashing at each other. Connor attempted to pry the sabre off his opponent by hooking the blade with his tomahawk and pull it back, but every time his opponent would slip past his grapple and riposte him, a counter that Connor would deflect with the flat of his blade and try to strike back only to see his own counter deflect as well. They shoved each other through the camp, collapsing on tables and boxes, rolling on the ground and picking themselves back up. Errant slices of blades struck on one another, arms, faces, legs slashed, blood pouring from their bodies, but neither of them were willing to give an inch. It was a fight to the very death!
Finally, when Connor could feel his strength leaving him, he pulled a reckless gambit of flipping his saber upside down to use it as a dagger. He parried sword thrust with the flat of his tomahawk and sliced at the man's neck, cutting his throat. The Englishman had not expected the change in grip and he drew back, dropping his main gauche to grasp at his neck.
"Huh.." He looked more surprised and slightly annoyed about his imminent death than afraid.
"Don't think I have any intentions of caressing your cheek and saying I was wrong. I will not weep and wonder what might have been... I'm sure you understand."
The man collapsed on his rear looking up at Connor, blood pouring down his neck like a red waterfall.
"Still.." He sighed, the ghost of a smile showing in his lips. "I'm proud of you.. in a way. You have shown great conviction. Strength. Courage. All noble qualities.."
"I should have killed you long ago..." The man shuddered his last breath and collapsed on his side, dead, eyes still open.
Connor knelt next to him and passed a hand across his face to close his eyes.
"Goodbye, father."
Connor awoke with a startle. He was still wearing his wolf pelts. He reached over to touch his face feeling a strange stinging in his eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks.
MONTANA
Connor snuck under the cover of the darkness, using the distraction of a great battle taking place in the distance to slip past the sentries of an army camp. He was on the prowl for a very particular target. This man had been eluding him for quite a while, but Connor was determined to find and kill this wretched Blue Coat. His death would bring chaos to the government army and would ensure that the tribes would be left alone for many more years.
As he snuck about the military camp in search for the Blue Coat commander, he instead found a man dressed in elegant finery. He was apparently waiting for him.
"Hello, Connor." The man, an obvious Englishman, dressed in a top hat, black expensive jacket and holding a cane, began to casually approach the Kiowa warrior dressed in wolf pelts.
"You look surprised. Expecting someone else, old boy?" The English nobleman gave a devilish smile, a subtle hint of his hand moving towards his belt.
Both of them reacted instantly, the two men drawing their revolvers and firing on each other at the same time. Connor and the Englishman darted to the side as they fired, avoiding each other's bullets and taking cover in one of the many tents surrounding the army camp.
The two fired blindly on each other, hoping to hit their target through the tents. When Connor had counted six shots fired, he snuck around the tent where the Englishman was taking cover in order to draw the fight up close where he thought he had the advantage.
As it turned out, the Englishman was waiting for him. Rather than sneak behind him as he had hoped, the Englishman turned quickly and drew a sabre almost slashing Connor's head off, it was only the Brave's quick reflexes that had him pull back and instead get a slash on his face.
Toughing out the pain, Connor drew his own cavalry sabre in his right hand and his spontoon tomahawk on the left before attacking the Englishman. For his part, the English fellow drew a main gauche parrying dagger on his off hand before the Brave engaged him.
The two fought viciously, grunting and slashing at each other. Connor attempted to pry the sabre off his opponent by hooking the blade with his tomahawk and pull it back, but every time his opponent would slip past his grapple and riposte him, a counter that Connor would deflect with the flat of his blade and try to strike back only to see his own counter deflect as well. They shoved each other through the camp, collapsing on tables and boxes, rolling on the ground and picking themselves back up. Errant slices of blades struck on one another, arms, faces, legs slashed, blood pouring from their bodies, but neither of them were willing to give an inch. It was a fight to the very death!
Finally, when Connor could feel his strength leaving him, he pulled a reckless gambit of flipping his saber upside down to use it as a dagger. He parried sword thrust with the flat of his tomahawk and sliced at the man's neck, cutting his throat. The Englishman had not expected the change in grip and he drew back, dropping his main gauche to grasp at his neck.
"Huh.." He looked more surprised and slightly annoyed about his imminent death than afraid.
"Don't think I have any intentions of caressing your cheek and saying I was wrong. I will not weep and wonder what might have been... I'm sure you understand."
The man collapsed on his rear looking up at Connor, blood pouring down his neck like a red waterfall.
"Still.." He sighed, the ghost of a smile showing in his lips. "I'm proud of you.. in a way. You have shown great conviction. Strength. Courage. All noble qualities.."
"I should have killed you long ago..." The man shuddered his last breath and collapsed on his side, dead, eyes still open.
Connor knelt next to him and passed a hand across his face to close his eyes.
"Goodbye, father."
Connor awoke with a startle. He was still wearing his wolf pelts. He reached over to touch his face feeling a strange stinging in his eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks.
Sydney looked around the shop while Lance spoke with the huntsman. It was enough to dissuade any doubts he had about the man. There was little chance in his mind that Lance was working with Dorothy or either of the men that were with her. The huntsman was too familiar with the rancid smelling male. His attention snapped back hearing Lucien ask if they needed rooms. Sydney looked back towards his partner.
"Want to crash here or see what your brother scrounged up?"
The marshal was fine with either option. He was not sure what Charlie was able to locate in terms of lodging for the three of them. It was getting late and there was no telling if the Charlie would still be awake by the time they returned. It would almost be a wild goose chase locating Charlie if that was the case. They were not that far out of town and getting back to the center of town would be easy enough.
"It may be easier to stay here for the night. Unless you know where you brother is at or would go?"
"Want to crash here or see what your brother scrounged up?"
The marshal was fine with either option. He was not sure what Charlie was able to locate in terms of lodging for the three of them. It was getting late and there was no telling if the Charlie would still be awake by the time they returned. It would almost be a wild goose chase locating Charlie if that was the case. They were not that far out of town and getting back to the center of town would be easy enough.
"It may be easier to stay here for the night. Unless you know where you brother is at or would go?"
“You really work for a ding sheriff?” Hank quipped back. “Don’t prisoners got a right not ta be abused for no good reason?”
But it didn’t seem like he expected any answer because he grunted and groaned as he awkwardly rolled himself over to his other side so that his back and his bound hands were toward Jack. Maybe he didn’t want another punch to the face.
Feeling rejected by Connor, Dorothy lingered momentarily when Jack kissed her, then gave him a hug, more because she needed one than any great intuition that he might have been feeling a little low. She lingered there. “I’ll be glad to get this job over with,” she commented eventually, fully expecting the ride to Laramie tomorrow to be even more awkward.
“G’night, Jack,” she said and disentangled herself.
“Oh…” Charlie said, slightly disappointed. But Maggie’s assumptions about him were right. He was not the type to force a less-than-willing woman. So after holding her in an embrace and stealing as many more kisses as she’d permit, he took off his shirt and handed it over.
"See ya first thing in the mornin' then, Mary."
“Dunno. Thought he was comin’ here…” Bones said with an ambivalent shrug. He was still slightly peeved about only getting half the money he thought he’d be getting.
“Fella with his shirt tore up?” Lucien asked. The brothers looked a good deal alike, so even in his sleep-deprived state, it wasn’t hard to guess that Dave and Charlie were related. When Bones nodded, Lucien gestured toward the stairs. “He went upstairs with Miss Keller. She was gonna stitch up his shirt, I think…” he said, giving the pair the benefit of the doubt about what was actually going on up there.
Bones did not immediately connect the name ‘Keller’ to the ‘Mary’ they’d met back in Texas. “Miss? You think maybe…?” He smirked, wondering if the marshal was thinking the same thing. What other woman could Charlie possibly be with other than Dorothy?!
"I'm right behind you, Richards," Bones said, gesturing toward the stairs. If someone was going to get shot, he'd prefer it not be him.
But it didn’t seem like he expected any answer because he grunted and groaned as he awkwardly rolled himself over to his other side so that his back and his bound hands were toward Jack. Maybe he didn’t want another punch to the face.
Feeling rejected by Connor, Dorothy lingered momentarily when Jack kissed her, then gave him a hug, more because she needed one than any great intuition that he might have been feeling a little low. She lingered there. “I’ll be glad to get this job over with,” she commented eventually, fully expecting the ride to Laramie tomorrow to be even more awkward.
“G’night, Jack,” she said and disentangled herself.
“Oh…” Charlie said, slightly disappointed. But Maggie’s assumptions about him were right. He was not the type to force a less-than-willing woman. So after holding her in an embrace and stealing as many more kisses as she’d permit, he took off his shirt and handed it over."See ya first thing in the mornin' then, Mary."
“Dunno. Thought he was comin’ here…” Bones said with an ambivalent shrug. He was still slightly peeved about only getting half the money he thought he’d be getting.“Fella with his shirt tore up?” Lucien asked. The brothers looked a good deal alike, so even in his sleep-deprived state, it wasn’t hard to guess that Dave and Charlie were related. When Bones nodded, Lucien gestured toward the stairs. “He went upstairs with Miss Keller. She was gonna stitch up his shirt, I think…” he said, giving the pair the benefit of the doubt about what was actually going on up there.
Bones did not immediately connect the name ‘Keller’ to the ‘Mary’ they’d met back in Texas. “Miss? You think maybe…?” He smirked, wondering if the marshal was thinking the same thing. What other woman could Charlie possibly be with other than Dorothy?!
"I'm right behind you, Richards," Bones said, gesturing toward the stairs. If someone was going to get shot, he'd prefer it not be him.
Maggie allowed Charlie to hold her a little while longer, while her fingers players with the hair at he nape of his neck. She’d been right in her assessment of his character, and that might help her even more, if she were to cast a wider net, and increase her chances of getting out of South Fork with a sliver of the fortune, the brothers had talked of in Texas.
“My mistress will madder than a puffed toad if I’m not back before they wake,” she muttered, as if she tried to convince herself to leave, rather than informed Charlie about her reasons not to stay. At the same time, she hoped that he might take pity on the poor Mary Keller, who worked so hard for her cruel employers.
“Charlie...” She said blushing as her hands slid down to his chest. She didn’t move them immediately as she wanted his attention a little while longer. “Would you... not mention this to Detective Stone? I would hate for him to get the wrong idea of me...”
With big puppy eyes and the blush on her cheeks still present, Maggie took Charlie’s shirt, sent him a little smile and walked to the door.
“Good night, Charlie... I can’t wait ta see ya in the morning.”
“My mistress will madder than a puffed toad if I’m not back before they wake,” she muttered, as if she tried to convince herself to leave, rather than informed Charlie about her reasons not to stay. At the same time, she hoped that he might take pity on the poor Mary Keller, who worked so hard for her cruel employers.
“Charlie...” She said blushing as her hands slid down to his chest. She didn’t move them immediately as she wanted his attention a little while longer. “Would you... not mention this to Detective Stone? I would hate for him to get the wrong idea of me...”
With big puppy eyes and the blush on her cheeks still present, Maggie took Charlie’s shirt, sent him a little smile and walked to the door.
“Good night, Charlie... I can’t wait ta see ya in the morning.”
Sydney quirked an eyebrow hearing that Charlie was here with a woman. It was possible that the woman could have Dorothy. The two of them had a past together. He took a moment to think over what this could mean for him and the others. The look that Bones was giving him was not lost on him. With a small shake of his head he agreed to check upstairs. Sydney would make a quick inquiry about the room before heading for the stairs. It was off to the side but easy enough to find. As he was making his way up the stairs he encountered a young woman. He moved off to the side to allow her to descend down the stairs.
"Ma'am," he said tilting his hat towards her in greeting.
Sydney would encounter a young woman in the doorway of Charlie's room. His eyebrow raised seeing the bright red hair. Looking over her she was not the woman that he was searching for. She was also younger than Dorothy appeared when he spoke with her in Tombstone. The odds were that this was the woman that the innkeeper was referring to when he mentioned a woman with Charlie.
"Is Charlie in there?"
"Ma'am," he said tilting his hat towards her in greeting.
Sydney would encounter a young woman in the doorway of Charlie's room. His eyebrow raised seeing the bright red hair. Looking over her she was not the woman that he was searching for. She was also younger than Dorothy appeared when he spoke with her in Tombstone. The odds were that this was the woman that the innkeeper was referring to when he mentioned a woman with Charlie.
"Is Charlie in there?"
Dorothy stepped out into the hallway just as Sydney was speaking to Maggie, thinking of nothing more than heading to bed for at least a few hours. Tomorrow, they could deal with the missing shoe and maybe she and Connor would pretend like that awkward conversation had never even happened. At least that was her plan.
She took several steps toward the door, turning the key around in her hand.
"Mary!?" Dave exclaimed as he and Sydney reached the top of the steps. There was zero doubt that he knew this red-haired woman and was very surprised to see her. He was holding his gun in his hand and pointing it vaguely toward the ceiling so that it wasn't directed at anyone just yet.
"What ... why ....uh..." From the corner of his eye he caught site of the other familiar blonde figure farther down the hall. "Get back!" he ordered Maggie, lunging in front of her to put himself physically between Maggie and Dorothy, as if shielding her with his body. Ever the hero.
Dorothy's eyes shot up and there, standing not 20 feet away, were two men that she never thought she'd see again ... let alone together. The ones responsible for the deaths of Bobby and Sparrow Hawk.
For a half a second she froze, almost disbelieving what she was seeing, despite a long held suspicion that the Gollers had betrayed Bobby. Part of her brain screamed at her to run. But there was no where to go - they were between her and the stairs.
"Marshal," she spat, loud enough that hopefully Jack heard and was wise enough to not show his face. "D'ju decide ya ain't done enough ta turn my life topsy-turvy?" she asked, her voice icy.
She took several steps toward the door, turning the key around in her hand.
"Mary!?" Dave exclaimed as he and Sydney reached the top of the steps. There was zero doubt that he knew this red-haired woman and was very surprised to see her. He was holding his gun in his hand and pointing it vaguely toward the ceiling so that it wasn't directed at anyone just yet.
"What ... why ....uh..." From the corner of his eye he caught site of the other familiar blonde figure farther down the hall. "Get back!" he ordered Maggie, lunging in front of her to put himself physically between Maggie and Dorothy, as if shielding her with his body. Ever the hero.
Dorothy's eyes shot up and there, standing not 20 feet away, were two men that she never thought she'd see again ... let alone together. The ones responsible for the deaths of Bobby and Sparrow Hawk.
For a half a second she froze, almost disbelieving what she was seeing, despite a long held suspicion that the Gollers had betrayed Bobby. Part of her brain screamed at her to run. But there was no where to go - they were between her and the stairs.
"Marshal," she spat, loud enough that hopefully Jack heard and was wise enough to not show his face. "D'ju decide ya ain't done enough ta turn my life topsy-turvy?" she asked, her voice icy.
Connor walked out of his room that morning feeling quite trigger happy. Well, that wasn't exactly a huge difference in how he normally felt. Connor -always- felt incredibly trigger happy, the Kiowa warrior had a chip on his shoulder the size of Mexico. How many fools will he kill today? Too many to count no doubt, do not get in his way...
At it looked as if the ground my run red today as well. By the time Connor was opening the door to his room he could already feel tension going in the inn. The Brave noiselessly descended from the stairs, moccasins and a light step preventing the wood to creak under his weight.
Peering behind the wall he noticed some unfamiliar bodies. Frankly, Connor couldn't tell who the men and the woman were, but that didn't really matter to him. All it mattered that they were confronting Dotty and that, really, was enough reason to maim someone in Connor's book.
Had he perhaps been anyone else, Connor might have tried to defuse the situation through talking. But he was aware of who he was and where he was. When any of these settlers saw a red skinned Brave wearing wolf pelts their first reaction was to draw their six shooters. Connor saw no other way out of this one that achieve peace through superior firepower.
"Ahem."
*KA-KLICK*
Connor cleared his throat as he drew his revolver, pulling down on the hammer to make a threatening noise. Suddenly he had just appeared behind the Gollers and their party, doing as Braves often do and approach their targets unawares.
Things better calm down real quick before someone gotten riddled with bullets, and Connor truly didn't care if someone was a marshal or not. When had the laws of pale faces ever mattered to a Kiowa?
At it looked as if the ground my run red today as well. By the time Connor was opening the door to his room he could already feel tension going in the inn. The Brave noiselessly descended from the stairs, moccasins and a light step preventing the wood to creak under his weight.
Peering behind the wall he noticed some unfamiliar bodies. Frankly, Connor couldn't tell who the men and the woman were, but that didn't really matter to him. All it mattered that they were confronting Dotty and that, really, was enough reason to maim someone in Connor's book.
Had he perhaps been anyone else, Connor might have tried to defuse the situation through talking. But he was aware of who he was and where he was. When any of these settlers saw a red skinned Brave wearing wolf pelts their first reaction was to draw their six shooters. Connor saw no other way out of this one that achieve peace through superior firepower.
"Ahem."
*KA-KLICK*
Connor cleared his throat as he drew his revolver, pulling down on the hammer to make a threatening noise. Suddenly he had just appeared behind the Gollers and their party, doing as Braves often do and approach their targets unawares.
Things better calm down real quick before someone gotten riddled with bullets, and Connor truly didn't care if someone was a marshal or not. When had the laws of pale faces ever mattered to a Kiowa?
When Jack had returned back to Esme and PJ after his draft to the war, Esme had slapped him across the face, and called him a ‘blood hound for trouble and dumb decisions’ before she hugged him. Being arrested and then forced to join the war was an extreme example, but Jack did seem to be attracted to trouble and potential fights.
That was why he suddenly got the urge to get up from his bed, and take a peak out of the door. Even before he got a hold of the handle, he heard Dorothy speak, which was odd enough in itself. Hadn’t she gone to bed?
”Marshal. D'ju decide ya ain't done enough ta turn my life topsy-turvy?”
Marshal? Someone come to take Hank off their hands already? Why was she mad at him?
Jack exited his room, and found himself in a somewhat unexpected scene. He stood between Dorothy, who looked a little less happy than when she’d left, and two men, he didn’t immediately recognise... or... shit...
The skinny one of them, the guy with the gun, was the man that Jack had been face to face with by the camp, before he threw dirt into his eyes. He didn’t notice the woman behind the two men just yet, but he did spot Connor, who suddenly appeared behind them. It was impressive how quiet a man of his size could move.
“What’s goin’ on here?”
That was why he suddenly got the urge to get up from his bed, and take a peak out of the door. Even before he got a hold of the handle, he heard Dorothy speak, which was odd enough in itself. Hadn’t she gone to bed?
”Marshal. D'ju decide ya ain't done enough ta turn my life topsy-turvy?”
Marshal? Someone come to take Hank off their hands already? Why was she mad at him?
Jack exited his room, and found himself in a somewhat unexpected scene. He stood between Dorothy, who looked a little less happy than when she’d left, and two men, he didn’t immediately recognise... or... shit...
The skinny one of them, the guy with the gun, was the man that Jack had been face to face with by the camp, before he threw dirt into his eyes. He didn’t notice the woman behind the two men just yet, but he did spot Connor, who suddenly appeared behind them. It was impressive how quiet a man of his size could move.
“What’s goin’ on here?”
Maggie folded Charlie’s bloody, torn shirt as she walked. Had she been alone, she would’ve just bunched it up and thrown it in a corner until it was time to fix it, but she had to walk past the barkeeper, and being messy wasn’t part of Mary Keller’s personality. It wouldn’t break her cover, but many small suspicions could ruin weeks of work.
She therefore hadn’t seen Bones and Sydney before they greeted her. She looked up to give them both a nod and a smile, and was slightly surprised to recognise Dave’s boney face. She hadn’t expected to bump into him this quick, and that left her with a need to improvise.
“Detective Stone! Oh I knew, I would find you again. I almost didn’t dare hope until now, but I couldn’t help my foolish lil’ heart...”
Dave didn’t get to respond, before the other man recognised a woman, who’d left one of the rooms. Maggie didn’t recognise her, but Sydney and Bones seemed to. Bones moved in front of her, presumably to shield her with his wheat straw of a body. Maggie had to fight herself to not roll her eyes.
Everything happened so quick. Suddenly, a man stood between them and the woman, equally as confused as Maggie, it seemed. She couldn’t see him, but she could recognise that voice anywhere. She turned her head away to hide her face from him, so her act wouldn’t be ruined.
The sight that met her was another familiar face, or... frame more like it. Behind them was the tall, wolf-clad Kiowa whom she’d crossed paths with in Nebraska, when she was performing another con. Luckily, she’d used the same name back then, with the little detail that she’d been Mrs Keller and not Miss Keller then.
“Detective Stone,” she asked. “What‘s happening?”
She therefore hadn’t seen Bones and Sydney before they greeted her. She looked up to give them both a nod and a smile, and was slightly surprised to recognise Dave’s boney face. She hadn’t expected to bump into him this quick, and that left her with a need to improvise.
“Detective Stone! Oh I knew, I would find you again. I almost didn’t dare hope until now, but I couldn’t help my foolish lil’ heart...”
Dave didn’t get to respond, before the other man recognised a woman, who’d left one of the rooms. Maggie didn’t recognise her, but Sydney and Bones seemed to. Bones moved in front of her, presumably to shield her with his wheat straw of a body. Maggie had to fight herself to not roll her eyes.
Everything happened so quick. Suddenly, a man stood between them and the woman, equally as confused as Maggie, it seemed. She couldn’t see him, but she could recognise that voice anywhere. She turned her head away to hide her face from him, so her act wouldn’t be ruined.
The sight that met her was another familiar face, or... frame more like it. Behind them was the tall, wolf-clad Kiowa whom she’d crossed paths with in Nebraska, when she was performing another con. Luckily, she’d used the same name back then, with the little detail that she’d been Mrs Keller and not Miss Keller then.
“Detective Stone,” she asked. “What‘s happening?”
The hallway was quickly beginning to fill up with people as the seconds seemed to slow to a crawl. First the young red haired woman was still standing there. His question remained hanging in the air about Charlie. However, he was soon joining them in the hallway. The Marshal was curious about the young woman called Mary. What was she doing here? was the main question lingering in his mind. However, before he could ask a little more about her there was another familiar sight in the hallway.
His eyes landed on the sight of his target. He finally managed to catch up to her. It seemed like his luck was starting to improve a little. Sydney opened his mouth to address Dorothy when another man came up behind them. His eyes glanced backwards to see a strange man standing there with his revolver pointed towards them. This situation could quickly spiral out of control if they were not carefully. To make matters worse another man came to stand between himself and Dorothy. With a small sigh he looked first towards Conner.
"We're not here to cause problems. I only came here to find Dorothy Parson. Please put your revolver away and either return to your room or depart down the stairs, sir."
His eyes would go to "Mary" next. As far as he was concerned she was an innocent in this entire irdeal. He had questions about why she was calling one of the brothers Detective Stone. She was not safe standing there in the hallway with the others. Dorothy could be considered dangerous if she was armed and Mary got in the way of her escape. He was hoping this would not be the case and that everything could resolve peacefully without shots being fired.
"Let this young woman pass," he would say to Conner. His eyes remained Mary for a moment before gesturing towards the stairs. "Get to safety, miss."
With another pause his eyes landed on the last person to join their merry band in the hallway. Another strange man to him but perhaps not to either of the brothers. Words had been mostly limited since everyone congregated in the hallway. Sydney would meet Jack's gaze and address his question.
"Nothing that concerns you, sir. Please return to your room."
At last, Sydney would be able to speak with Dorothy. While he was here to take her back to Tombstone for her crimes this did not have to end in handcuffs or a noose for her. He did not want to turn her life topsy turvy but she only made matter worse by fleeing from the law. All of the crimes she committed while on the run could be used against her. Sydney really wanted to give her a chance to live an honest life. One that she could be proud of that did not involve committing crimes.
"Dorothy you can still do the right thing. Come back with me to Tombstone."
His eyes landed on the sight of his target. He finally managed to catch up to her. It seemed like his luck was starting to improve a little. Sydney opened his mouth to address Dorothy when another man came up behind them. His eyes glanced backwards to see a strange man standing there with his revolver pointed towards them. This situation could quickly spiral out of control if they were not carefully. To make matters worse another man came to stand between himself and Dorothy. With a small sigh he looked first towards Conner.
"We're not here to cause problems. I only came here to find Dorothy Parson. Please put your revolver away and either return to your room or depart down the stairs, sir."
His eyes would go to "Mary" next. As far as he was concerned she was an innocent in this entire irdeal. He had questions about why she was calling one of the brothers Detective Stone. She was not safe standing there in the hallway with the others. Dorothy could be considered dangerous if she was armed and Mary got in the way of her escape. He was hoping this would not be the case and that everything could resolve peacefully without shots being fired.
"Let this young woman pass," he would say to Conner. His eyes remained Mary for a moment before gesturing towards the stairs. "Get to safety, miss."
With another pause his eyes landed on the last person to join their merry band in the hallway. Another strange man to him but perhaps not to either of the brothers. Words had been mostly limited since everyone congregated in the hallway. Sydney would meet Jack's gaze and address his question.
"Nothing that concerns you, sir. Please return to your room."
At last, Sydney would be able to speak with Dorothy. While he was here to take her back to Tombstone for her crimes this did not have to end in handcuffs or a noose for her. He did not want to turn her life topsy turvy but she only made matter worse by fleeing from the law. All of the crimes she committed while on the run could be used against her. Sydney really wanted to give her a chance to live an honest life. One that she could be proud of that did not involve committing crimes.
"Dorothy you can still do the right thing. Come back with me to Tombstone."
Dave startled at the sound of the hammer being pulled back behind him. Having a gun at his back was certainly uncomfortable and he half turned to look, moving his hands out slightly to the side in a non-threatening manner. This must be the ‘injun fella’ that the sheriff back in Dark Canyon had mentioned. Dave’s right hand still held his gun, but he carefully kept it pointed toward the ceiling, not wanting to give Connor an excuse to pull the trigger.
"Business matters, Miss Mary..." Dave said over his shoulder to Maggie, hoping that Marshal Richards hadn't noticed that whole 'Detective' stuff. "Best get back..." As much as he might be prone to exaggerations or outright falsehoods to impress a pretty red-head, he really didn't want her caught in any cross fire. That would definitely hurt his chances.
He looked Connor up and down and shook his head, as if disappointed or disgusted. “Bad enough you were butterin’ the bread of a Johnny Reb, Calico Queen” he said, the statement was clearly meant more for Connor’s “benefit” than Dorothy’s. “You smokin’ this one’s peacepipe now?”
Charlie heard the commotion in the hallway and though he couldn’t make out all the words being said, he caught his brother’s voice. Still shirtless, he grabbed his own gun and he cracked open the door to see some savage in a wolf pelt threatening his brother. The hammer of his Colt was pulled back as he started to raise the gun in Connor's general direction, alarmed to see Mary in the middle of whatever was happening.
"Best put that thing away..." he said to Connor.
Dave's skinny neck swiveled the other way as Jack joined the conversation. "That's the one was sneakin' up on our camp, Marshal! Looks like he's aidin' and abettin' a fugitive of the law."
"Business matters, Miss Mary..." Dave said over his shoulder to Maggie, hoping that Marshal Richards hadn't noticed that whole 'Detective' stuff. "Best get back..." As much as he might be prone to exaggerations or outright falsehoods to impress a pretty red-head, he really didn't want her caught in any cross fire. That would definitely hurt his chances.
He looked Connor up and down and shook his head, as if disappointed or disgusted. “Bad enough you were butterin’ the bread of a Johnny Reb, Calico Queen” he said, the statement was clearly meant more for Connor’s “benefit” than Dorothy’s. “You smokin’ this one’s peacepipe now?”
Charlie heard the commotion in the hallway and though he couldn’t make out all the words being said, he caught his brother’s voice. Still shirtless, he grabbed his own gun and he cracked open the door to see some savage in a wolf pelt threatening his brother. The hammer of his Colt was pulled back as he started to raise the gun in Connor's general direction, alarmed to see Mary in the middle of whatever was happening.
"Best put that thing away..." he said to Connor.
Dave's skinny neck swiveled the other way as Jack joined the conversation. "That's the one was sneakin' up on our camp, Marshal! Looks like he's aidin' and abettin' a fugitive of the law."
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