Delaware is standing at the edge, watching the towns folks start to gather. Funny, most are avoiding the banker.
Barron glances around and finds a wall to lean against, lighting a new cigarette off the old.
Delaware happens to notice a young woman staring at him wide eyed. He laughs softly to himself then turns away, slipping further away towards the wall. Oh look. There's the Sheriff again. What luck. Course, Clysdon says nothing. He's adjusts his slinged arm and tries to roll himself a cigarette.
Barron tilts his head, glancing at Delaware. "Any idea who whupped you, sir?" he calls to the man.
Sarah comes over from the street.
The wrapping is not going well and some of the fine tobacco drops to the ground. Delaware sets the paper into his restrained hand and tries again, but damn if this is hard. The Sheriff's question causes him to pause, "Whupped me?" He smiles slightly then offers, "Nobody whupped me. The man I tussled with is limping as well I'd imagine."
Whit comes over from the street.
Whit is followed by Elise and Angel.
Letitia comes over from the street.
Whit says, "I suppose this is the place."
Several townspeople begin to arrive, greeting each other warmly and looking about to gauge the task at hand. Some children are playing among the lumber, a game of tag.
Barron nods to what the banker says, continueing his lean and lazily smoking his cigarette.
Sarah joins some of the other women who are preparing an area for food and drink, and to keep the younger children out from underfoot.
Letitia says, "Yes, I believe that it is. Do you have any talent for carpentry, Laurence?" She looks to Whit in challenge, lips curving. "This should be interesting to watch. Hrm. I doubt I shall be of much help, but..."
Delaware gives up on trying to roll a cigarette. It is just impossible with one hand. He tucks the tobacco away and happens to glance at the lot entrance. A gaggle of women surround a single man he has yet to meet. Lucky man.
Whit looks over at the lumber, with a calculating expression. Having never raised a barn he wonders how one goes about it. He grins, "They just did not offer Barn Raising at Princeton, I am afraid."
Angel feels someone looking at her, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. Her stomach flutters with butterflies and she places a hand against it, trying to steady the uneasy, yet pleasurable feeling. She turns her head and gazes at the man, immediately drawn by his dangerous appearance.
Stepping away from Whit, Elise inclines her head and smiles warmly, "Thank you for your escort, Mr. Noble." She turns to look around, her gaze completely halting on the banker. "Good Grief." seem to be the only words she can manage, and even then she barely remembers to close her mouth.
Barron tells Elise, "He insists the other man or woman was at least scratched, ma'am." in regards to Delaware.
Letitia, too, takes note of the banker, but she seems nonplussed. Perhaps she's slightly pleased to see him in such a state. Nevertheless, she steps toward him without hesitation at seeing his predicament, slender fingers reaching to retrieve the man's tobacco and papers from wherever it is that he stowed them.
Whit picks up a hammer from amongst the lumber, "Well, I put up a shed or two back on the old estate, but this is altogether a different matter I think."
Delaware had turned his attention elsewhere, but Barron's comment causes his head to snap back with a dark look. "I do not fight women, Mr. Barron, no matter what your pleasures may lean to." He then notices Elise and simply nods at her open mouth expression. "Miss Montgomery."
Barron calls out as he finishes his cigarette, "Who heah is in charge of this barn raisin'?"
Whit nevertheless picks up said hammer and a saw that happens to be lying around and joins a small group of men who seem to know what they're doing. This can't be all bad can it. "It can't be all bad can it Lettie?" he calls across the yard, "Just like Cousin Emily's boating party."
The children are rounded up and handed small bags with nails. One young man, Jacob looks quite pleased to be part of the barn raising. He takes his precious bag and runs off to find his mother.
Letitia looks up briefly from pouring tobacco into one of Delaware's papers, her eyes twinkling. "I seem to remember getting rather doused at Cousin Emily's boating party, Mr. Noble," she calls before rolling the cigarette.
Mr. Gavin is among those who are surveying the lumber and plans. He turns at Barron's call. "That would be me, Sheriff."
Angel blinks at Delaware and his less-than-healthy appearance. She smiles at him, winking and says quietly, "I'd hate to see what you did to the horse that kicked you, Sir." She grins and turns, looking at the men getting ready to work. She wrinkles her nose and looks down at her soft hands and then back up at the hammer. She takes a few steps back, having no intention at all of ruining her manicure. She stands, waiting to see what chore will be assigned to her.
Elise manages to get her surprise under some semblance of control and sends a wry glance in Barron's direction, but makes no comment in return. Instead, she nods towards the banker in an amused manner, "Mr. Clysdon. " Though its clear the woman is burning with curiosity, she doesn't ask any questions. She watches Letitia silently, saying nothing more.
Barron approaches Gavin, noddin'. "What do you need me to do?" he asks simply, pinching his cigarette dead and tucking it into a pocket with one last exhale.
Mr. Gavin points. Hammers. Nails. "We need to do the frame first." He glances at the holster and pistols, "Might ask one of the ladies to hold those for you. You'd be better prepped with a tool belt that those."
Whit thinks of it as a piece of art, and that seems to help. Pretty soon he's hammering away, help to put together pieces of the frame and every now and then coming back to look at the plans. "Right nippy for this sort of work I must say," he comments to the hammerless crowd. Of course the exercise does tend to do wonders.
Delaware makes no move to stop Letitia as she moves to roll a cigarette for him. Course, the desire for one has passed since he usually smokes alone. So, once it is offered back to him Delaware tucks it into his pocket and winks at Letitia. "For after." He smiles once at Angel, watching her reaction to the tools. "Perhaps you might cook with the other ladies." Course, there is a reason he is standing so far away from the crowd.
Barron shakes his head, "It's alright." he says to Gavin. He grabs a bag of nails and a hammer, and makes his way to one corner, crouching and talking with another man nearby as they start hammering.
Letitia lifts a hand to wave toward some of the Ladies Auxiliary Club members, drawing waves in return. It seems those stuffy bastions of Maddock society are already enamoured of the lovely Miss Taylor, especially since she's so terribly against allowing business of ill repute back into the town square!
Several young women arrive, certainly only here to watch the men work.
Eugenia comes over from the street.
Eugenia is followed by Steady Eddie.
Angel smiles weakly. "Oh god, cook?", she thinks to herself, groaning inside. Truth of the matter is, she is not skilled in any "womanly" art except for knitting and....well, that's best left for thinking on another day. She looks around helplessly, realizing her presence here is not much more than an extra body and a burden at that. Oh well, at least she'll have contact with other humans. She slides her hands down the back of her skirt and settles on a large piece of wood, watching the man work with interest.
Having located his mother among a group of women preparing a picnic for after the raising, Jacob tugs sharply at her skirt. "Ma Ma! Ma Ma!" He waits a moment and hollers, "MA MA!"
Eugenia drives her buckboard close to the lot and urges her big plowhorse to pause. The widow secures the reins and nimbly climbs down under her own power, brushing off an offer of help from a slightly too-friendly miner. Once she's on the ground, the woman rounds the back of her wagon and begins to unload the food she's brought with her.
Elise purses her lips in a thoughtful manner as she regards Delaware before murmuring, "Is it my turn then, Mr. Clysdon, to remark that -You- look frightful? I feared the day should never come." Her face is perfectly expressionless, but her eyes, as always, reveal her minor amusement. The writer then turns away to watch the men work, not truly that interested but lacking anything better to do.
Whit looks up at the rising sun and thinks it's getting stuffy in this coat. He takes off the fine black coat and decides to work in his shirtsleeves. How scandalous! "Miss Taylor, would you do me the honor of holding my jacket while I have some words with this piece of wood? I promise you'll not have to watch the paint dry if you do," he asks with an impish grin.
Pfft. Elise simply hasn't figured out that the most interesting passtime in Maddock is -Gossip-. Letitia has learned that. The young woman colors very brightly at Whit's words, but accepts his jacket with a chiding, but merry smile as she moves toward the Gossip Brigade.
Delaware watches Angel's reaction and instantly relates. The banker is in a foul mood and watching Barron work while he is incapable seems to anger him more. He nods again towards Letitia and takes a few steps around her towards Elise. His regard to her slight tease is an exasperated expression. "Miss Montgomery, you do know that I strive to give you thinks to write about." He looks from Angel to Elise. "I don't believe I have met your friend?'
Barron is nailing two pieces of wood together, having found two other gentlemen to work with. HE chats with them quietly, tugging his coat off after several minutes and tossing it to one side. He crouches again, helping the two others get the frame worked on.
The recent arrival of ladies are now sitting in the shaded grass, uselessly watching the men work. As the jackets start to come off the girls huddle and giggle amongst themselves.
From the smells that drift from the pans Eugenia unloads from her wagon, she's brought dessert. And a lot of it. The cloth-covered pans are arranged on the makeshift table and the widow smiles to Sarah.
Elise grins before replying, "Indeed you do, and I truly do appreciate it." Delaware's request for an introduction seems to amuse her even more, for the writer barely manages to say, "Mr. Clysdon, this is Miss O'Shannon." The grin widens and she adds teasingly, "The singer." And how horribly different the women look from each other.
Whit and a miner named Mickey MacDougal chat quietly as they work on their piece of the pie. Laurence has only hit his thumb three times so far, so he's not doing too bad. Who is Mr. Noble? And what is he doing here? The Gossip Brigade, in a stupor, has evidently not asked that question yet.
Angel smiles warmly at Delaware, already liking him for walking around in public looking like he got in a fight with a bull and lost. She holds out her small, soft hand to him and says in her throaty, sexy voice, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Clysdon."
Letitia fills the Gossip Brigade in on the identity of Mr. Noble. Several of the older woman gasp and nod in approval at his pedigree, especially when they learn he's an old family friend of Miss Taylor. Glancing back at Whit, Letitia grins in mischief as she leans to impart some other juicy tidbits to the eager ladies.
How can he not react to such a wonderfully warm greeting? Delaware is a man after all. He manages a broader smile for the singer, which warrants an instant wince. That's enough to bring his general scowl back. Still he is very intrigued and turns his attention back on Elise his eyes momentarily flashing with amusement. "You constantly surprise me, Miss Montgomery. Tell me, where ever did you two meet?"
Miss Henrietta Asparagus listens eagerly. No account vagabounds are common in Maddock, but so are Mysterious Men in Black. Why just look at half the men in town who would feel right at home in a Sergio Leone movie. Henrietta is a closet romantic though, so her imagination often runs away from her.
Barron finishes his half of the frame with the two others, wiping his hands free of dirt. He and the two others with him check the frame for solidness, before moving over to help the others get their side finished.
Once Eugenia has finished setting out the food she's so graciously helped to provide, the widow goes from being commendable to scandalous. Without one hint of shame, she unbuttons her cuffs and begins rolling up her sleeves as she approaches the working men. A pair of work gloves is tugged from her pocket and she pulls them on as well as if she has every intention of joining the workers.
Jacob's mother finally acknowledges the young boy, much to the relief of everyone in the vicinity who were growing tired of the boy's constant calling. "Yes Jacob?" Pleased to have her attention, Jacob shows her the bag of nails then runs off wordlessly.
Sarah returns Eugenia's smile. "You certainly know what the builders are going to want. It looks, and smells, delicious."
Whit ,Mickey, and several others finish off their side. Mickey looks at the structure so far with a critical eye. "That's a proper baaarn Mister Noble. Solid as a rock she is." Whit nods, hiding a grin. Doesn't Mickey sound like an absolute pirate?
Barron tells the other men, "Let's get the frame up, eh amigos?" he calls. He cinches his belt, staring at the frame and up at the sky.
Elise's response is rather dry, "Miss O'Shannon and I met shortly before we first met you." She gives the banker a sidelong glance. The writer is quite aware *she* is not memorable, but surely Angel warrants such memorability. There is a slight shrug of her shoulders and the woman chuckles softly.
Eugenia flashes a smile back to Sarah even as she heads to help lift up one side of the frame. At first, she gets a few odd glances from the men around her until they realize she seems to know what she is doing.
Eugenia says, "Let's 'walk' it up, gentleman, shall we?"
"Well that was quite something important to say." Jacob's mother, Lucille laughs lightly. She watches the boy run off towards several men who are laying down the first beams that will form the barn's frame then turns back to her companions. "Have you seen Mr. Clysdon lately?"
Barron waits then, bracing his side of the frame on his leg and rolling a cigarette while he waits, lighting his cigarette and inhaling deeply.
Mr. Gavin hollers over to Barron, "Let me just finish this side first."
Letitia looks over to Lucille, archly. For just a moment, the Philadelphian seriously toys with the idea of poisoning the banker in their minds. She leans forward to continue in the hushed gossiping, laughing in outright delight at something she hears. Whit's jacket hangs over her arm.
Angel's attention is elsewhere, watching the sweaty, good-looking men raising the frame of the barn. At the sound of her name, she blinks and turns to Elise. It takes a moment to register what she said and she nods, smiling warmly at Elise. "Aye, we arrived on the same day, Sir. Had a roof fall in on us, we did." Her accent is a strange mix of Cajun and Irish. She grins, her dimples deepening. "We got quite the welcome to Maddock, sir."
Whit is more inclined right now to just follow Mickey's lead. He looks like he's having quite a bit of fun actually. He never got to do stuff like this back East. "Excellent!" he says for no particular reason as the frame goes up.
And then the recognition dawns. Seems Delaware's head was hit a little harder than he recalls. He laughs aloud and of course this brings a new rain of pain. "I'm sorry, how could I have forgotten such a lovely face."
A stout woman near Lucille inquires of her, "Mr. Clysdon? You mean the banker?" Lucille nods and offers to the small group of women, "He looks like he had himself a bit of a beating lately." Her sister, Jane frowns at what can only be gossiping and stuffs an ear of corn into Lucille's hands. "More peeling, less gossiping, Lucille!"
The sound of hammering fills the lot as the men begin to secure the pieces of the frame together. A young woman, no more than seventeen wanders over and offers water to any who want it. "What? No ale?" Teases one of the workers. Amanda answers, "The ale is for after your work is done, Mr. Garvin."
Mr. Garvin watches Amanda McQueen depart and shakes his head, turning to a young man closest to him. "That one is going to be a heartbreaker to someone." The man nods, "Likely Wil Ripley. I always see him trying to catch her eye." Mr. Garvin chuckles lightly, "The best of luck to the lad!"
Eugenia glances over to the sheriff across the way, nodding politely to him even as her eyes twinkle. She helps hold up one edge of the frame as she waits until the proper time to walk it upright. A few words are exchanged with those around her. It seems the man to her left remembers how helpful Charles used to be at such things.
Angel blushes, her cheeks turning even pinker. Her smile widens, brightening her whole face as she looks at Delaware. "I know your type, Sir, and you won't be fooling me with your lovely compliments and flattery." She turns then looks over her shoulder at Delaware, winking. "But you're welcome to try any time you like" She laughs and turns back to watch the men work.
Barron smokes his cigarette and exchanges a smile with the good widow. He takes a sip of water, waving the rest away.
"Raising up!" comes the call from the working men in unison. The picnic preparation is suspended as the women gather the children out of the way. Ropes are secured to the barn frame and with team work the skeletal frame is erected and quickly secured.
Contrary to popular opinion, men gossip as much as women. Which is why Bob Naughton snorts, "You ain't got the right of Harry Garvin. I hear tell the Ripley boy is sweet on Alice. Amanda and that King fella are walking out so I hear," he mutters darkly. "Never did like that boy -- too much like that Jenkin's boy, what's his name?"
Eugenia lifts her side of the frame with her co-workers, walking it upward with her hands with great care. The widow of Charles Rhodes is determined to be as much help as her husband used to be.
One of the girls on the lawn over hears Bob Naughton and hollers from her perch. "Don't be silly Bobby Naughton. Wil ain't nothing like Travis Jenkins. Wil is nice!"
Sarah helps keep the kids out of the way, and smacks the hand of one little boy who was taking advantage of the distraction to make a grab for some pie.
Barron walks up his side, helping hold it up in the air, his cigarette gritted in his teeth.
Even Miss Letitia Taylor of the Philadelphia Taylors is drawn from her gossip to watch the barn go up. Or, rather, to watch the men who are lifting up the barn. She ignores the widow in favor of eyeing stronger and far more male musculature.
Bob blinks. Who said that. "In the first place Mary MacMahon, I was talkin' about that Joshua King. And second of all..." Bob forgot what he was going to say. His train of thought was derailed.
Whit's musculature is exercised quite nicely in securing the frame as it's all stood up. Who is Travis Jekins? Who for that matter is Wil Ripley?
Ah, got to love a crowd. So many ways to misinterpret talk, spread gossip and otherwise derail simple folks. Delaware laughs lightly at Angel, his eyes full of jest. "Miss Montgomery has warned you of me then." Yes, it is an accusation, but quite a playful one.
The work is steady around the barn frame. Three men sitting easily among the eaves are working quickly to add a roof. Below, the scents of the picnic preparations indicate that it will soon be time to break for food. Lucille leans over and resumes her gossiping, "Did you hear that two of the lots in the square are slated for saloons now. And I believe I also heard that another is going to be a bathhouse." There are excited murmurs among the women and Jane even blushes a little.
Barron helps secure the frame, and lifts his hammer and bag of nails, helping to begin hammering and nailing once again. His cigarette is finished minutes later, pinched dead and tucked into a pocket.
Angel blinks and turns from her appraisal of the me lifting the barn to raise her eyebrow at Delaware.
"Actually, Sir, Miss Elise is notoriously annoying about not sharing any gossip at all with me." She pouts at Elise. "I figured you out all on my own, I'm afraid, Mister Delaware." She winks again, grinning, then returns her attention to the men, one in particular.
Elise has been listening silently, and quite happily so until her name is mentioned. She glances up at the banker, a look of exaggerated innocence on her features. "And besides, dear sir, whyever would I do so? I would not hamper your attempts at being charming in any such manner." The writer looks towards the singer and states, "I am a horrible gossip. I do not mean I do it often, I mean I am rather bad at it."
Whit hammers away at the frame, half the live long day. Mickey hands up a bag of nails, and Hiram Abraham Tate (HAT for short) wanders around inside the frame trying to avoid doing any work.
Letitia appears at Elise's elbow with a lighthearted laugh. "Then I should do my best to school you in the ways and intricacies of gossip, my dear Miss Montgomery!" she says as she touches the woman's elbow.
Delaware's eyes drift to Elise who it would seem has little comment on the matter until just now. "But Miss Montgomery, you know that I much rather prefer to be considered dreadful first." He makes no excuse to explain this comment to Angel instead noting that the food is almost ready. Ok. So he could eat. "Tell me, Miss O'Shannon, as a singer, where is it that you sing?"
Whit hops down to the ground, out of nails. "Lettie, this sure is fun!" he calls to Miss Taylor. Just like a kid, almost. Picking up another bag, he heads back to do some more work.
Everyone climbs down off the stable structure to take a break and eat. There is an immediate line forming at one of the make shift tables erected, the women have really outdone themselves this time. Chicken and dumplings, black-eyed peas, fried potatoes, mashed turnips and carrots, corn bread and yeast rolls, pickled goods of many sorts including relishes of both corn and green tomatoes.
Eugenia releases her hold upon the frame to help little Jacob with his bag of nails. She crouches to help him get some of the hardware untangled before ruffling his hair.
Benjamin strides over from the street.
Garrett hurries over from the street.
Whit sees everyone coming down for food and decides a break wouldn't be such a bad idea. He wipes his neck with a pale hankerchief as he walks over to get some food, before finding a comfortable spot to sit down and eat said food.
Angel grins at Elise and laughs. She responds to Delaware by smiling at him, then decides to make herself useful as she notices the men tiring a bit in the sun. She stands under a tree in the shade, as close as she can get to them to be heard above their hammering and begins to sing. Her voice is clear and strong, sweet and sultry as she sings about a girl named Susannah and a man following her from state to state just to tell her he loves her. It's a lively tune and she begins tapping her foot as she speeds it up, encouraging a good hammering rhythm, her face bright with joy, the joy of feeling useful.
Unsure how one turns down an offer to be taught how to gossip, Elise simply smiles in Letitia's direction. Her gaze flickers to Delaware, "As to appearing dreadful first, you rather botched that yourself, in this instance." She nods towards Angel and chuckles softly before turning her attention back to Letitia and murmuring something softly to her.
Garrett hobbles into the area, looking very much unaccustomed to his new accoutrements. He smiles as he is greeted.
Colin comes over from the street.
Letitia's gaze trails over to settle upon the illustrious Mister Garrett even as Elise speaks to her. Slowly, almost wickedly smiling, she murmurs a response to Miss Montgomery.
Sarah helps dish out the food, replacing empty platters with full, and making sure the little kids don't fill their plates with pie and cookies while skipping the chicken and vegetables.
Delaware quirks a brow at Elise, "And how do you suppose that, Miss Montgomery?" He watches Angel move under the shade and begin her song, rather impressed that the woman /can/ actually sing.
Barron finishes his bit and waits, getting at the absolute end of the food line. He rolls a cigarette, sticking it into his pocket.
Garrett eyes Barron rolling his cigarette for a moment and suddenly it occurs to him just how long it's been since he had a cigar. Damn that doctor.
Some workers near Angel applaud loudly for the song. Maybe if their lucky the lass will sing again once they tap the keg.
Lucille serves out another dish, adding a few pickled eggs from her special jar for Mr. Gavin. The smile is brilliant for her husband. After he strides away she returns to her soft murmuring's. "I hear that Miss Taylor recently withdrew all her money from the bank. I heard her talking with Gladys about starting a petition to have Mayor Evan stop the saloons from building right at the center of town."
The sheriff can't be at the -absolute- end of the food line because that's where the women are. The stout and grey-haired Agatha approaches the new sheriff with purpose, stalking toward him like an ancient, broadshouldered Angel of doom.
Whit contentedly partakes of chicken and pecan pie, his thoughts far, far away from that look on his face.
"If you do not truly know the answer to that, Mr. Clysdon, then you quite have 'dreadful' and 'charming' confused." Elise looks at the banker thoughtfully before adding, "That would explain much, I think." The writer offers a vague smile in response to Letitia's murmur, a glimmer in her eyes.
Eugenia exchanges quiet words with some of the women behind the table, waiting to fill her own plate until others have eaten. She watches Agatha approach Sheriff Barron and quickly hides a smile. The old battleaxe draws up alongside the man and she barks, "Sheriff Barron!" as if she thinks he might be as hard of hearing as her husband... Mr. Agatha.
Angel ends her song, panting a bit from the lively foot tapping, smiling. She sinks down under the tree and daydreams, not even noticing the food line.
Colin follows Garret and Ben, he cringes as he looks at Garret limping on his crutches, he mutters, "Ouch" and takes out a cigarette from his pocket, and stylishly throws it into his mouth, he takes out a box of matches and slides it open then pulls one out, and pushes the box closed and places it back in his pocket, all the while he is moving his hands very quickly, with skill. He strikes the match against his pants and then holds it up to the cigarette, puffs a few times then flicks the match out as he sees the cigarette has lit and is glowing with a mix of red,orange, and yellow. He tosses the burnt match to the ground. "So this is a barn raising?"
Barron blinks slightly, drawing his gaze down to Agatha. "Yes ma'am?" he asks, a smile quirking on the edges of his mouth. "How kin ah help you?"
Letitia slips away from Elise with a rather cool look to Jason Delaware Clysdon. While Whit is distracted, she tiptoes up behind him and settles his coat over his shoulders so he doesn't get chilled.
Delaware's eyes narrow and a look of suspect is passed to Miss Taylor who seems to be once again peeping in Elise's ear like a little bird. Two women on one man is just unfair, at least when it comes to gossips. He offers simply, "I have monopolized enough of your time, Miss Montgomery. If you will excuse me." He doesn't actually wait to be excused, instead noting Colin and approaching him. "You got a match?"
"The Ladies Auxiliary would like to welcome you to Maddock," Agatha loudly states with a voice that could carry over the whistle of a steam engine. "We hope that yer with us in wanting to keep the riffraff out of the main square in town."
Angel stands and wipes the dirt from her skirts, slipping quietly out of the area and wandering back to town.
Angel heads towards the road.
"Well ma'am," the tall lanky Texan remarks with his thumbs in his belt. "That would depend on what y'consider to be riff-raff. Why, a few Yankees ah know would consider me such," his voice is amused, but not mocking. "What do y'all consider riff-raff?"
Whit blinks and looks up. "Oh, thanks," he smiles. Pats the patch on the cloth next to him, "Have a seat. Aren't you going to eat?"
Maggie hurries over from the street.
"No saloons, bordellos or bath houses!" Agatha barks. "We want to keep our town square free of bad influences for the children!" She's scowling, slightly bushy eyebrows knit in a frightful glare. "We can jail the riffraff there, but our town shouldn't seem to be a... a... another Gommorah!"
Colin nods to Delaware, and takes out his match box and pushes it open, as he is doing this he speaks, "The Name is Colin, pleased to meet you." He takes out a match and hands it to Delaware. "I just arrived in Maddock."
Letitia reaches over to pinch off a bite of dessert from Whit's plate, eyes twinkling at him as she consumes it. "Later," she says with a smile. "After all you hardworking men have had your fill."
Maggie edges in just in time for 'Gommorah', and proceeds to blink for a little while. Well.
Barron nods, "Ah can understand havin' a Gommorrah would be a bad hand to have played," he agrees easily.
Letitia looks toward Agatha in satisfaction. Wonderful, deep, impish satisfaction.
Sarah approaches Garrett, looking slightly embarrassed, "Can I get you anything, Mr. Garrett? Chicken? Pie? Lemonade?"
Whit points out the incipient clash between the forces of sobriety and the forces of not-sobrierty. "Would you look at that?" he comments, absently munching on a piece of pie. He looks over at Lettie, "You are enjoying this are you not?"
"Now, mind you," Agatha continues, monopolizing the poor sheriff's time while he's waiting to eat. "We used to have saloons there, but God sent the fire to burn them all out just like he sent destruction to Sodom and Gomorrah!" One index finger points skyward to emphasize her point. "Now that they're gone, the good citizens of Maddock shouldn't allow them to return!" Yes, we've got trouble right here in River City.
Garrett smiles as Sarah approaches him. "You're very kind to offer, Miss. But I'm on a very restricted eating regimen just now and I don't think the doctor would approve. And since I can't really help, it's probably best that I don't take food from the mouths of those who are working hard to make this barn go up on time."
Delaware takes a cigarette from his pocket, conveniently rolled earlier by Miss Letitia. He pops this in his mouth then reaches for a match. "Well, with any luck you'll just be passing through." Course, the tone isn't sarcastic. A more unlikely welcome wagon member Colin is likely to not find.
The men return to work and the hammering resumes, the wooden planks quickly added to the sides of the barn. Within the nearly completed structure, several others work to segregate the space into several stalls.
Letitia almost laughs, stifling it with a great deal of effort. "She couldn't do better, if I'd /paid/ her to do it," she murmurs to the respectable Mr. Noble with a twinkle in her eye.
Barron nods seriously to Agatha, "Ah can certainly see how you'd feel right serious about those things." he agrees, without really agreeing to anything.
And so Elise is left standing there completely alone. She watches Delaware move off, her expression a combination of annoyance and humor. Clasping her hands in front of her, she chuckles softly, glad to have a moment to simply watch the crowds.
Almost as if on cue, a man with a bright smile comes walking up, "Excuse me folks, my name is Henry Hill. I'm looking for a Mr. Torombone?"
Maggie nods here and there, carrying a pie-dish toward the Place of Food. She sets it down and unhitches her ever-present satchel, taking out a loaf of bread, or maybe it's a poundcake. She puts that down too, eyes the food, then has another look at the people.
Whit points out, "You're an evil womman Lettie Taylor." The solemn look breaks out into an impish grin. He sighs an exaggerated sigh, "Looks like I am being called back to the salt mines."
Agatha bobs her head to the Sheriff as he seems to agree with her. She steps back, but leaves him with this parting wisdom, "You're welcome in the square, but the riffraff isn't!"
Mickey MacDougal growls and walks right over to Henry. "I dun told you once you carpetbagging son of a *bleep*. We don't want nun of yer *bleep* *bleep* trombones!"
Barron nods, "Sure, sure ma'am." he says, glancing at the men returning to work. "Got to get back to work ma'am, ah'm sure you forgive me. Pardon me." he says, before turning back without food to continue the work.
Gertrude, who doesn't always share the LAC's views finally calls out to Agatha, "Aggie! You going to let the mon eat? Most of the men are already returning to work." After all, Agatha was one of the ones who up seated Gertrude's plans to hold a Keno game.
Eugenia takes her plate back to the table and gets a slice of pound cake. She idly carries that toward the structure and the sheriff, tapping him on one of his broad shoulders.
The women clean away the remnants of the picnic rounding younger children up for much needed naps. The young Jacob breaks into a tired cry as he is dragged away, "I WANT! I WANT! I WANT TO STAY!"
Agatha calls back in a heated retort, "And no Keno games in the town square neither!"
Barron glances over at Eugenia, pausing in his hammer pounding into the structure, his unlit cigarette clenched in his teeth. "Hmm?" he grunts.
Now that work has resumed, Benji picks up some tools and steps in. As a "rugged outdoorsy type" used to hard work, he provides another set of male musculature worth watching.
Maggie glances Agatha's way and giggles, relaxing for a fraction of a moment, before she Nervously folds her arms again and looks for a face to talk to.
Colin looks at Delaware with a eyebrow raised, "Now what is that supposed to mean? I have came all this way and I am supposed to continue on?" he smirks, "Now I am sorry sir, but that ain't gonna happen for awhile." He takes a drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke out in circles, perfectly shaped.
Christopher hurries over from the street.
Wordlessly, the Widow Rhodes drops the slice of pound cake into the sheriff's shirt pocket. She hides a grin before moving away from him to resume her work on the barn as well.
Garrett smiles, happy for once to not be in the middle of political argument. LAC vs. saloons, LAC vs. whores, LAC vs. gamblers. Those are the classics, sherrif. Get used to them. And now a new wrinkle. Looks like frost developing between Letitia and the evil banker...and then the new guy and the evil banker. Clysdon is just a walking cold front. Can't say that's not a good thing. Garrett watches all of the conversations interestedly, but quietly. Then he sees Sarah, still standing before him. "Miss Williams...is there anything I can do for you?"
Letitia pushes Whit back to his task, but she keeps his coat, draping it over her slender arm once again. She continues to sit there out of the way, contenting herself with some manwatching for a while. It's an acceptable time to do such a thing, isn't it?
Delaware lights his cigarette then looks the stranger over again. He shrugs, "Well, you can suit yourself." He doesn't actually indicate the place is a hell hold, to do so aloud would not be professional. But he can think it. He can think it lots. The banker is from California so he has no qualms doing what some might consider rude and looking for an introduction. "My name's Mr. Clysdon, San Diego Trust Co."
Sarah flushes, "I was thinking I owed you an apology, but then I got to thinking that you probably don't even know why."
Whit heads back into the fray, after first dragging Mickey away from the terrified Henry Hill. Mr. Noble and his muscles head back to finishing up securing the framing and whatever's next.
Letitia mutters something under her breath as she hears Clysdon, apparently reiterating the 'trust' bit in a dry tone.
Christopher steps in, a few of his hands with him, all curious how the event is going. Spotting a stranger, he gives the man the once over, and turns his attention to the rest of the town folk gathered, listening, not talking.
Garrett chuckles as he blinks in bewilderment at Sarah. "I do not know why you would owe me an apology, my dear, but I assure you that whatever slight you are remembering is quite forgiven. Are you still staying with your brother?" His attention is momentarily taken from watching Clysdon make friends and influence people. Just as well.
There is a loud cheer from the men who stand around the now completed stables. Ryan Nath at the center offering hand shakes to each and every one. "Thank you! All of you!" A keg is rolled into the center of the stables and several fiddlers arrive. It is time to celebrate!
Miguel walks over from the street.
Colin looks at Delaware, meanwhile puffing on his cigarette, "San Diego Trust Co., hmm, your a banker aren't ya?" he looks around the area a few times, and then turns back to the banker, "Well, as I said before I am Colin...Musgrave....my profession, well, I'll leave that as disclosed...It is not of importance at the time." He grins...evily...Then cheers as all the others are seeming to do, he eyes the keg, and smirks again.
Eugenia seems delighted when the work is finished and it seems a party is starting... even though she shouldn't actually take part in a party considering her state of mourning. However, the widow moves forward to consult with the fiddlers in quiet tones.
Elise nods politely to one of the women nearby, exchanging the typical pleasantries. The smile on her lips almost seems forced as she realizes the work is complete. She murmurs an excuse then begins to make her way through the crowd to leave.
Sarah smiles more warmly at Garrett, pleased that he remembered, "Yes, sir, I am. I think I'm going to stay through the year, as well. Maddock is a nice town, even with all that happened."
Whit shakes hands with Mr. Nath and then gets out of the crowd. He goes back to his sitting spot and, strAngely, sits. He chuckles, "Well that was most enjoyable. Can we do it once more?"
Maggie sets herself to straightening dishes - Something To Do; she's never been much good with a hammer. Now, if they'd like some nice rosebushes, around along the outside...
Barron finishes hammering the last section he was working on, and eyes the finished walls. He grunts, nodding to himself and reaching over to light his cigarette, making his way over to Christopher. "Got a moment?" he asks.
Likely, Miguel had heard of the barn-raising, but whatever it was that kept him away for so long has only now released him. He enters, already spying the finished structure from afar, but continues none-the-less toward the event.
Benjamin joins the crowd around the keg, "Best part of the work," he says to the workers nearby.
Eugenia continues to speak to the fiddlers, motioning with her hands and tapping her toe a little as if in illustration. Is she making a request?
After a moment, the widow smiles in absolute delight when one of the fiddlers nods in enthusiastic agreement with her. It seems at least one of them knows the song.
Delaware eyes Colin briefly. So that's how it is. He looks about to comment then spies Elise heading towards the exit. He mutters a quick pardon towards the stranger and strides after her, waiting until his is quite near to call after her. "Miss Montgomery?"
Christopher gives the sheriff a curt nod, "I've some time, sure." He watches the stranger , especially as he takes up conversation with the banker. Interesting pair, those two.
Garrett notes Christopher's arrival...Did it just get cold out here? He returns his concentration to Sarah for the moment. "Well, I'm glad you think so, Miss Williams. Perhaps with the restoration, Maddock can shake its small-town image and become a big runner." Oh yeah, that would be just fine with the local legislator. More population means a bigger piece of the governmental pie.
The fiddlers begin a tune, a miner with a banjo starting to pick along with the song. Stepping forward, Eugenia begins to sing. "The day that I kissed you and told you goodbye, your lips told me that you would wait, but your lips deceived me and told me a lie, while your heart was sealing my fate. Aaaare you all alone... with the memory? Nooow that I am gooone, darling, aaare you missing me?" The tall, thin fiddler joins her in the singing. The woman's voice is a passable contralto. She actually sings the melody while the fiddler takes up a tenor harmony.
What is it about the banker that he always ruins her attempts to leave quietly? Elise turns to look at Delaware, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. After all, he was the one that left her so abruptly earlier. "Yes?"
What better in hand to inspect the new stable, than a beer. Well... Perhaps a woman, but since his woman isn't here, Miguel will settle for the latter. And, with a nod to Benjamin, a beer deftly snatched, Miguel turns to start studying the construction. Here, he's the straw boss, see?
Colin nods to Delaware and then briefly watches as he chases the woman, he chuckles then joins the crowd at the Keg, "Alright, mighty fine barn you people put up, mind if I join in the celebrating?" He puffs the last of his cigarette then tosses it to the ground and rubs it out with his toe.
Gertrude laughs aloud as the Widow is actually /singing/. Lordy, this will give Agatha something new to set under her bustle.
Whit watches the celebration from his seat, content to relax after the work with a pint.
Delaware really shouldn't have strided for now every injury is singing anew. He manages to mask most of his pain as he addresses Elise through clenched teeth. "Let us explore what these busy men have fashioned." He offers an elbow towards the woman.
"Out of the clear sky, a letter then came and just like a bolt from the blue... My castles came tumbling as I read it o'er, I still can't believe that it's true. Aaaare you all alone? Wiiith the memory? Nooow that I am gone, darling, aaare you missing me?" sings Eugenia in a stronger voice now that she's past that initial fear. She grins sidelong at the tall fiddler as they both croon the lonesome song in sweet, clear harmony.
The banjo player takes up a little solo turn before the next verse.
Barron tells Christopher, "Mind walkin' with me a bit over here? I wanted to talk to you." he indicates an area several feet away, out of the music's range.
Colin shrugs and decides thats a yes, so he gets a beer and chugs it down...he begins to dance and cheer, and chug beer....ah life is great!
O'Dwyer moves over from the street.
Sarah nods to Garrett, and starts to move away. "I hope you're feeling better. I promised one of our neighbors that I'd help out with her children, and I see them getting ready to leave."
Elise clearly looks tempted to shake her head and just walk off, but she reluctantly takes the banker's arm.
Delaware closes his elbow gently around Elise's arm and follows a few curious people past a small door.
<I may have missed a pose or two here>
"Senora Kyle!" Miguel speaks up, spying the woman trying to ease out of the main throng. He offers a grin, bright against the dark of his countenance. "Hello!"
Maggie jolts, blinking at Colin, then jumps at her name, and smiles - grins - toward Miguel. "Hello. Hello, good evening." Taking a step or two toward him.
Christopher turns to exit after the Sheriff, and stops, cold, turning wholly to face the man that just yelled. A frown comes to his face, "Son, just 'cause the law stepped outside ain't a good reason to start acting like a fool."
Whit points to the dancing crowd as he gets to his feet and offers a hand, "You know, dancing? Move your left foot in, your left foot out?"
Miguel had already gotten distracted by, well, women and such but he's alert enough that Colin's shout catches his attention and Miguel does glance away from Maggie long enough to shoot a grin back at Colin. He, too, raises his voice: "Si, Senor! I will quit staring at you. The senoras and senoritas are much better looking." He raises his beer in a small salute to the man, then looks back at Maggie.
"Late in the evenin' about sundown, high on the hill above the town, Uncle Pen played the fiddle, oh, how it would ring! You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing!" sings out the tall, thin fiddler as his bow pauses, tenor voice clear and high as they at least pause for the chorus of the song. The verses are simply played for those who wish to dance.
Colin raises his beer in agreeance to Miguel, "hey hey!" He begisn to drink some more, and then goes and sits himself down on the ground just away from the crowd, drinking his beer and admiring the ladies.
Letitia considers for a moment and then fixes Mr. Laurence Noble with a smile of delight. She places his coat down and rises with a delicately arched eyebrow. "I do believe that I would love to dance, Laurence,"
Christopher strolls off towards the road.
Garrett watches Whit circle Letitia. Now that's interesting. Wonder if she'll give him the time of day? Miguel instantly offends the new guy then heads straight for the married White women. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Suddenly Garrett remembers that he shouldn't be standing even if he is leaning on his crutches. He looks around quickly for a place to sit. Fortunately most of the hay bails are empty now since everybody's up and dancing, so he sits heavily, not used to doing it from one foot.
O'Dwyer looks at Quintan as he leaves, the neutral expression enevr leaving his face. Back to the party.
"Senora Kyle," Miguel murmurs then to Maggie, "How have you been? I have not seen you in so long, and I have not had the time to go and find you to see you. You seem... Well...?" It is a question, really.
Whit escorts her ladyship out into the throng, where the organized chaos continues.
Maggie grins. "How..." But he asks first, and she nods. "I've been well enough, thank you. Busy." Pining for Kyle. And all that. "How have you been? I saw Tess, not long ago, but I haven't seen you in a very long time."
The fiddles and the banjo create merry cacophony as they continue to play 'Uncle Pen'. As the song goes on, more of the group begins to sing the song, harmonizing awkwardly at first and then with greater ease. Look what Widow Rhodes done started!
Irma and Mildred, two of the founding members of the LAC, tromp into the party late, but perhaps brought out of their respective houses by the sounds of the cheering. Never-the-less, the two are here, and they enter and pause directly behind O'Dwyer. His... Lack of symmetry... Seems to disturb the two. They stand, studying the lay of his shoulders in complete silence, as if they share a brain and are internally dialouging on it.
Letitia laughs as she begins to dance with Whit, easing into his arms with good grace and a warm smile. The woman's small, booted feet move with effortless grace.
Whit chuckles at something Lettie says and shakes his head, "It's a family thing. A bought man stays bought if you buy him well," and blinks at the statement too, "My uncle said that, right before his confidential clerk absconded with half a million"
"We -- Naco and I -- we did a lot of the clean up, after the fire. I was too dirty to be seen, when I had time to be seen, and I slept," Miguel admits. He doesn't details the cleaning up that he did; those who need to know, now that the two Mexicans largely headed the burial detail.
Colin slowly leans back on a hay bail, and drinks his beer, he is cooling down, a couple moments of chaos for him is good, he generally is the quick to act foolish but then calm down very quickly drinker.
Maggie nods several times. "But things are better, I hope? I haven't heard what might happen with the restqaurant?" Well, the former restaurant. The idea of the restaurant. Yeah.
"I'll never forget that mournful day when Uncle Pen was called away. He hung up his fiddle, he hung up his bow. He knew it was time for him to go. Late in the evenin' about sundown. High on a hill, above the town. Uncle Pen played the fiddle. Oh, how it would ring. You could hear it talk, you could hear it sing!" sings the unlikely group of musicians. By now, their harmony is blending and they're all grinning.
O'Dwyer removes a pipe from his pocket, reaches down and lifts his pant leg up a bit, withdrawing a long sharp metal piece, without an edge, and a ring at the bottom, from his boot. Taking the ringed end, he starts to pick crumbled tobacco out of the bell of the pipe.
Colin soon drifts off into a deep sleep, obviously tired from the travel here.
Another laugh pulls from Miss Letitia Taylor as Whit whirls her around the new stable floor. The dancing feet are loud upon the boards, offering up a rhythm to the musicians.
With a chuckle and a sip of beer, at which Miguel remembers to offer to get Maggie something, "A drink, Senora Kyle? --And si, we will be rebuilding. But I am not sure how it is that we will do it. To hear Ylsa, we will have the Grand Hotel of restaurants, with houses on top and everything. And in brick. And I do not know what bank she robbed, that she thinks we have all this money." But the man laughs.
And upon O'Dwyer's movements, Irma's eyes widen. She leans into the much taller (and louder) Mildred and whispers something about a finger. Or there having been a finger. And what might have happened to that finger. Mildred braves a step around O'Dwyer, to get a look at the front of the man, though her glances make some attempt at surriptitious.
The clock chimes the half hour.
Maggie says, "Yes?" Sounding pleased. "That would be grand, I think - someone who really belongs here, having a hotel, again." She shakes her head about the drink. "I don't need anything, but thank you. How is Ylsa? I haven't seen much of her, either."
O'Dwyer slips the bayonet back into his boot, and reaches into his pocket for a brown leather bag, filled with tobacco. He takes a little out, and starts to put it in the short pipe, with a enlarged bowl. He doesn't seem to be annoyed, but he does look at Mildred straight ahead.
Letitia shakes her head in response to something that Whit asks of her, tossing her dangling lovelock against her shoulder. That long, lustrous, dark curl springs back into shape rather easily and bounces with each dancing step.
Miguel shakes his head, "Oh no, she is not going to have a hotel. She just thinks she will." Miguel takes another sip of beer. "She is well. Her boy, Angel, is healthy and her husband is good to her and except for a house, I think she is happy." Only after the fact does Miguel consider that Maggie might not want to hear that. "I cannot get her to do things like go riding anymore and her little mare gets fat at the stables. I think I will teach the other children to ride, soon, on Ylsa's horse."
Mildred looks away, blinking visible, but she hustles around to intercept the more mouselike Irma and the two bustle over to the refreshment table that doesn't include hulking miners or Mexicans, and she can be heard saying that someone has eyes like a toad. Well, not really toad's eyes, but sort of that color and shineness.
Whit is a dancing fool on the floor, but mostly because he's getting used to the nutty steps they have out West. Not that Lettie's toes have anything to worry about.
Letitia's mouth purses into a smirk as her eyes begin to twinkle brightly at Whit. Gently, but with great deliberation, she steps right on his foot, breaking into a grin.
Maggie nods a few times. "I'm glad that she's happy. It's been, it's been hard for her, too many times." She grins about the mare. "Will she object?"
Whit winces in mock pain and scowls at Lettie, said scowl ruined by a sheepish grin.
Eugenia has wandered over to the food, helping to serve it after her scandalous turn as a singer...even if the song was nothing more than a down-home ballad.
"No, I do not think so," Miguel shakes his head to emphasize that point. "She is a fat little mare and she was the gift to Ylsa. Ylsa does not like to ride, very much, but the man who gave it to her thought she could not ride." Miguel shrugs slightly and then returns a question, "Were you here for the barn-raising? --I was late."
O'Dwyer takes his grubby fingers, and leans over on the post, striking one of those precious matches on the rouch edge of the post. He puffs for a bit on the brown pipe, until the tobacco glows a cherry red.
Maggie shakes her head. "They were almost done when I got here - I just came to bring a pie. It's very nice, don't you think?" Looking up at the roof. "Good to see something get put back together."
Letitia begs off for a bit, needing to catch her breath. She makes sure to do it while conveniently near to the seated Mr. Garrett, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks. "Please, Laurence? I must rest for a moment!"
And over her shoulder, Irma casts dubious looks at O'Dwyer. Words like 'devil himself', and 'sinister and probably left-handed too!' and 'rotten teeth' also might be heard. Mildred just has one of those voices that carry.
"Si," Miguel enthuses, grinning again, "It looks good. And," he gestures to the musicians, "My guitar was burnt, in the fire, so I cannot even sing and play. I went to Great Falls, but thought that Ylsa and Tess would be unhappy if I brought back a guitar instead of clothes for them and the children." He shrugs. Poor Miguel.
Whit laughs, "But of course." He hands her off and makes with the punch-grabbin. It's a dangerous time to be at the punch bowl.
O'Dwyer inhales on the pipe, smiling to show that his teeth are indeed his own. However, he does make a good show of taking the pipe with the three fingers of his left hand.
Garrett catches a drift of venom from the LAC table, looking down at his own left hand for a moment he then cocks a brow at Irma. Interesting. He sways side to side just a bit to the music, being very careful not to stress his healing leg too much.
Irma shudders. Mildred pales. Now there's talk about 'with the dogs, where he belongs' and a few other uncharitable things. Then one of them gets the bright idea to see if that competitve Gertrude might be tricked into dancing with the man. Both of the biddies' eyes light up, and they begin to plot, now casting looks over at the other LAC member.
Whit comes back after a moment with three glasses of punch, actually, since he noticed Mr. Garrett wasn't really moving too much. He hands one to Lettie and offers one to Garrett.
Maggie blinks. "Oh, I'm sorry. I suppose so, yes, but there's next time?" Her hands emerge, for no obvious reason, then vanish back into her pockets.
Again, the high lonesome voices of the musicians rise as they start another song, this one still lively for dancing, but full of sadness. "It's been ten long years since I left my home in the holler where I was born. Where the cool fall nights make the woods all bright and the fox hunter blows his horn. I fell in love with a girl from the town. I thought that she would be true. I ran away to a bigger town and worked in a sawmill, too." Toes tapping, the men begin on the chorus. "What have they done to the old homeplace. Why did they tear it down? And why did I leave the plow in the field and look for a job in the town?"
Miguel glances down, distracted by the woman's hands, and suggests, "You know, maybe you might like prayer beads. My mother was like that, with her hands. Like you are," Miguel doesn't demonstrate since he still has a half-full beer, "And she found it was better, to have something for her fingers to play with. Maybe I get you some, Senora Kyle?" There. Hope you paid attention to that, Garrett: Miguel offered to get the married White woman some prayer beads. Not too many men take that route to seduction.
Garrett blinks in surprise as a glass of punch appears in front of him...oh, and with Mr. Noble attached. He smiles quickly. "Thank you, sir. I'm very much obliged." He takes the glass (also with his left hand) and raises it in thanks. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced...I'm Michael Garrett, Representative from the 40th district to the Montana Territorial Assembly." His brows furrow for a moment, "You'll forgive me if I don't stand..." He offers his hand to Whit, still seated.
Gertrude has been doing just fine, course she's serving out the cups of ale and sneaking one for each three she offers. She is quite oblivious of the bets that are ensuing over her.
Elise steps out the small door.
Delaware steps out the small door.
O'Dwyer sucks on his pipe, his attention going to the banker.
Letitia settles herself down next to Garrett without invitation. After all, that spot on the hay bale is empty and she needs to rest. She gifts him with a warm smile as she draws in a breath.
Maggie's hands emerge again, so Maggie can look at them. "Prayer beads?" Curious. "That, that would be nice of you." Except. Um. "What are they?"
Elise quickly works her way to the street. She appears rather irritated and in no inclination to exchange pleasantries of any kind.
Elise has left.
Whit shakes the man's hand, "A pleasure Mr. Garrett. My name is Noble. Laurence Noble. I'm the black sheep of a stuffy New York banking family," he smiles. "Looks like you hurt yourself there. The fire?"
Delaware has apparently finished his tour of the stables, exiting the small door several paces behind Miss Montgomery. He pauses a moment as she departs quite hastily, enough time to ensure that one might not think he was following her. Noting Garrett, he nods and says, "Goodnight Mr. Garrett. I'm afraid I can't possibly stand any more."
It's Irma who is bullied by Mildred to approach Gertrude. However, Irma no sooner has two words out of her mouth, "Hello, Gertrude --" than Mildred has overtaken her and the conversation, "Gertrude, my /dear/," gushes the false Mildred, now beaming a smile toward the other woman, "I have just seen the most eligable of bacholors, my dear. And I thought of you." OK. Well. That's true.
"Well, the girl run off with somebody else. The drink, it took all my pay. And here I stand where the old home stood, before they took it away. Now the geese fly south and the cold wind blows as I stand here and hang my head. I've lost my love. I've lost my home. And now I wish that I was dead." For the sad words, they sing it cheerfully enough. "What have they done with the old homeplace. Why did they tear it down? And why did I leave the plow in the field to look for a job in the town?"
Garrett looks for the red mark on the side of Delaware's face, but gets lost in the bruises. Oh well, no telling if he got slapped or just walked out on. This town needs a good odds-maker. He'd be rich. Quick.
Half of the LAC has been taking bets since noting the banker went into the office with the writer. Now money changes hands.
"They are beads, to play with." Miguel explained as if he'd expect the heathens north of the border not to know what prayer beads are. "If you are Catholic, you pray with them. Each bead, a prayer. It helps you to remember. I will get you some, then," Miguel decides.
Gertrude rolls her eyes at Irma, she can do this of course since the beer has made her quite forget herself. "Indeed. Well the last man you noted was missing a leg, is this one at least whole?"
O'Dwyer looks at Miguel now, with a little more interest.
Delaware heads towards the road.
"Whole enough to dance with you, Gertrude." Mildred smiles again and tries to loop one arm through Gertrude's. "Here, fetch a beer with you and come alone, dear." Irma trails behind. That's her natural position, a few paces behind her overbearing friend.
Maggie says, "Oh, yes?" Smiling, seeming to like the idea now, and continuing to exercise her ignorance. "That sounds nice. And useful. Is it a different prayer for each one?"
Garrett retrieves his hand from Whit, then looks down at his leg. "No no. Nothing so noble. My house was robbed and I had the misfortune of walking in on the robbers." He continues smiling, though it is obvious at this point that it's strictly decoration on this unpleasant topic. He shifts gears quickly. "I see you cut quite the figure on the dance floor. I would have guessed you were from the East." He indicates Letitia with his next comment. "You'd have to be to keep up with Miss Taylor."
Gertrude has no choice but to follow, course she does stop to dig her heels in a little. "Point him out to me from here. I really don't want to lose my post." After all, with her gone, someone else is likely to take over, then what will she do?
Letitia arches one eyebrow and mischievously smirks up at Whit. "Yes, well, since you are injured, Mr. Garrett, I had to make do," she says with a soft laugh.
Barron comes over from the street.
Barron returns, pocketing his spent cigarette. He goes to put it in his pocket, releases he has a slice of poundcake there and makes his way to the food.
Alright, Genie can stand it no longer. If the band insists on singing old songs she knows, then she's just going to have to go back up there with them. It's all she can do to keep still and silent behind the food table, foot tapping and mouth forming the words.
Garrett nods to Letitia. "Of course you did. And it looks like you did quite well." He takes another drink of punch. "What brings you to Maddock, Mr. Noble? You're certainly not the first black sheep we've had in town...though I think *I* was second..."
Christopher hurries over from the street.
"It is," Miguel tries to explain, now gesturing slightly with one hand and glancing around. Now, he notes O'Dwyer looking at him. "It is... There are different prayers, that you say with the different beads, but the beads are in sets. There is ten and then one and they are Our Fathers and Hail Marys and... Maybe I just show you when I get it, OK?" Miguel asks, taking another sip from his glass, with a grin.
Eugenia makes her way through the throng of LAC women. The room is almost evenly divided between the women that drink and the more temperate crowd. The widow steps up to the fiddler and murmurs to him once more. He grins and nods, leaning down to speak to his new compatriots. Music will do that to strangers. Soon, the music begins and Genie prepares to sing once more.
Whit chuckles, "Yes...she's been tearing up dance floor since she was knee high to a grasshopper." Flashes Lettie a quick grin, "Uncle Horatio seems to have rubbed off on you." Then back to Garrett, since he doesn't seem to want to talk robbery, "Actually I'm a naturalist cum painter. So when I'm not watching paint dry I'm studying exotic plant and animal species." He chuckles, "Though I must tell you, Maddock has had some of the strangest I've ever seen."
And it's with a beaming smile that Mildred tries to weave Gertrude through the crowd such that she won't see O'Dwyer until the last possible moment. Then, bingo: She presents the homely man to Gertrude, "There. He needs a drink." And a plastic surgeon and....
Maggie nods, flashing a slightly embarassed smile. "I suppose that would be best. I just hadn't heard of it - it does sound rather comforting, in a way." Her hands go into hiding again.
Letitia smiles to Garrett as she folds her hands in her lap. "Laurence and I are acquainted. I believe we first met... hrm. Was it the incident with the black teeth?"
Garrett nods. "You truly mean to tell me that when you're not watching paint dry you're watching grass grow? How truly amazing. And I thought that was hyperbole..." He shrugs. Who knew? "Well, I hope the local flora and fauna are to your liking, Mr. Noble."
Barron makes his way to the food table, ladling a plate =high= with food and a cup of beer. He makes his way to a corner to take a seat, eating voraciously.
"Tonight, I'm alone without you, my dear. It seems there's a longing for you, still. Now all I have to do is sit alone and cry.. in our little cabin home on the hill," sings the widow in her clear contralto. She's not schooled, by any means, but her voice is pleasant as she belts out the words. The fiddler joins her for the chorus as does the banjo player. "Well, someone has taken you from me! And left me here all alone! Just listen to the rain, beat on my windowpane on our little cabin home on the hill!"
Kei comes over from the street.
Eugenia stands up on a makeshift stage with two fiddlers and a banjo player. The widow is /singing/.
O'Dwyer looks up across from Quintan and Miguel, and towards Gertrude, exhaling his tobacoo smoke upward.
Gertrude wrinkles her nose a bit. What exactly is that smell? Course, she isn't one to allow one of the LAC ladies to get the best of her. She smiles towards O'Dwyer and states rather plainly, "My friend here is a little shy, but she would very much like to dance with you. Now if you excuse me, I have more beer to pour." She extricates her elbow and is already walking away, leaving poor Mildred to handle the situation on her own.
Christopher returns just after the sheriff, and pulls a panatela cigar from his shirt pocket. For now, he just takes a sniff of the aromatic cigar, holding on to it. He moves off to get a refresher on his glass of beer. Watching those milling about, he simply stands near the refreshment table, smiling to the LAC members nearby, "Evenin' ladies."
Whit mmm hmms, "Actually yes. Not watching paint dry is actually the fun part," he says with a straight face. "I think we may have met earlier, but the black teeth was our funniest encounter."
Letitia's face is growing pinker and pinker the more that people speak of Not Watching Paint Dry.
"Si," Miguel assures Maggie, with another smile. "It is good. I think that many of the women, the women in Mexico, they use the rosary -- the prayer beads. It is the Irish women who knit. Then they have something to show for their fingers playing, but they cannot take their knitting into a place like this." Miguel guestures around.
Christopher cocks an eyebow at the widow farmer, as she takes the stage, as it were.
Kei arrives, a little slow and a little cautious. He does offer a hand at the throng gathered, however.
Maggie laughs. "I hadn't thought of that - knitting, that is, to calm one's hands. What Irishwoman do you know, that knits?"
"I hope you are happy tonight as you are, but in my heart there's a longing for you still. I'll just keep it there, so I won't be alone in our little cabin home on the hill," sings Eugenia, belting out the words in a lonesome contralto. For the chorus, two of the men join her again, singing close harmony. "Well, someone has taken you from me! And left me here, all alone! Just listen to the rain, beat on my windowpane in our little cabin home on the hill!"
Whit chuckles, "Just ask Lettie. She likes it almost as much as I do."
Garrett stiffens just a touch as the chinese man enters. Great. At least he can't get caught doing anything bad at the moment. He eyes Christopher savoring a cigar that he would *very* much like to smoke...he doesn't even realize that he's staring. He continues talking to Whit. "Yes, I can honestly say that many times I have had great fun not watching paint dry." But he should probably leave it at that, not being in on the joke.
O'Dwyer looks at Mildred with something akin to bemusement, and speaks to her in a calm, clear, but not muted in any way, voice. "Now, that's very flatterin' of you, darlin', but, I'm just maKeing my homestead, and can't afford someone in your price range."
"Not watching paint dry?" Kei says as he passes through a crowd to stand nearer to Garrett. He is smiling, however softly. He can tell that Garrett's mood is less than agreeable, but then again, when has Garrett been ina good mood since he was injured? Certainly no time Kei can remember. "How are you doing?" He says, and bows to all assembled.
Letitia darts an a slightly angry look at Whit, color high in her cheeks. She draws in a breath to regain her calmness, nostrils flaring. THe girl is oddly silent.
And it's Mildred's turn to stand, stiff-necked and staring, before she chokes up a, "Not me. I'm married." That's undeniable, if one counts the ring on her finger. "It was her." But his words then register and Mildred's eyes widen and she draws herself up to her huffy 5'6 and ... And... Gets a little bug-eyed as she turns and stalks off. Irma, paling, has stepped behind a beam.
Miguel nods, "It was the Irishman, many of them came to Mexico when there was so much trouble in Ireland...Thirty years ago? And then for the revolution." Viva la Mexico and that kind of thing, "And the old ladies, they knit."
Maggie says, "Oh. Oh? Yes, I see. I weed. But that's even less portable, of course."
Barron finishes his plate soon enough and rises, drinking another cup of beer before he sets both plate and glass away, reaching for another cigarette. He wanders over to where the singers are.
Whit whews, "In any case, I do have another appointment to attend to. So I will bid you all good afternoon. Nice to meet you Mr. Garrett." He starts to reach for his coat but notices Lettie's expression and blinks. Uh oh. "Uh...Lettie, are you all right?"
O'Dwyer smiles slightly at the retreating figure. He then sticks the pipe back in his mouth. He notes Miguel espousing on Irish history.
Kei glances at Letitia...and shrinks a touch. Whoops, the Doctor is a little umm...embarassed. "Miss Taylor," he mumbles.
Garrett looks at Kei. "I'm doing well doctor. I think that last prescription you gave me is helping a lot." He turns to Whit at his words, then turnst to look at Letitia. Gooness, she is a might pink, isn't she. "Miss Taylor?"
"Now when you have come to the end of the way and find there's no more happiness for you. Just let your thoughts turn back once more, if you will, to our little cabin home on the hill." Eugenia grins despite the lyrics, happy as a pig in mud at singing a familiar old song. "Well, someone has taken you from me! And left me here, all alone! Just listen to the rain, beat on our windowpane in our little cabin home on the hill!" the impromptu quartet sings in harmony before the song ends.
Letitia rises from the haybale where she is sitting beside Garrett. "If you will excuse me, *gentlemen*?" she says. Something about the emphasis on the word and the look that she gives to Whit seems to indicate that she doesn't think the word defines him at the moment.
"Si," Miguel agrees, now stepping backwards two steps, with a half-raised finger to halt any escape that Maggie might make, while he gets himself another beer. Thus fortified, Miguel steps forward again and smiles once more. "No. I think that the rosary will suit you well." Now then, Miguel's solved one of Maddock's lingering little problems. Next, world peace.
Oh good. Another day Kei can avoid dealing with his shame regarding Miss Taylor. Kei seems to carry a lot of shame concerning women recently. He says to Garrett, cordially enough, "It is? I am glad. And how is Naomi?"
Garrett keeps his smile pasted on as he tips his hat. Not having to balance on his crutches makes this much easier and he doesn't even *look* like he's going to fall this time. "Doctor Kei, this is Mr. Noble. Our local naturalist." He introduces.
Kei says, "Noble...." he offers a hand, "Oh!"
Whit winces. Something tells him he's not getting his coat back. "Oh, hello," he shakse Kei's hand distractedly. "If you all will excuse me."
Whit heads towards the road.
Christopher finally bites the end off the panatella, and lights it up, savoring the good smoke. Taking his mug of beer in hand, he notes the Chinaman doctor arrive, and moves to speak with him.
Maggie echoes, "Rosary." A nice word. Like the flower, and all, you know. Well, sort of. Maggie hauls herself out of a moment's confused thoughts and asks, "Have you started any building, yet?"
Barron leans in to say something to the musicians, then something to Eugenia - sounds like a thank you for the music, exchanging smiles.
Eugenia thanks the men on the little music stage with quiet laughter. She's somewhat flushed, but undeniably smiling. How very unwidowlike! That behavior is noted by the Ladies Auxiliary Club, too. At least by those who are still sober. Gertrude might not notice at all by this point. Turning, Eugenia notes the sheriff and pauses before stepping down. She reaches out a hand for him to help her.
Garrett's smile becomes more amused and less put on. "Good luck, Mr. Noble..." He almost chuckles. And with that he turns to Kei. "Naomi..." He looks puzzled for a moment as if not recognizing the name. Slowly it dawns on him. "You mean *Miss Brown*?" His astonishment at Kei's use of her Christian name is apparent.
"No," Miguel answers, now turning to glance again at O'Dwyer. This time, that man gets a nod from Miguel, a touch of Miguel's finger to the hat that rides his brow. Stables evidently don't qualify as 'indoors' enough for Miguel to remove his hat. But then he looks back at Maggie. "We have ordered the wood and things, but we need to dig first and that will take a while."
Barron takes the hand to help Eugenia down, thoughtfully blowing his cigarette smoke to one side.
Letitia steps -away- from Garrett and his laundryman, seeking out another glass of much-needed punch.
Dig. "Yes." Maggie looks vaguely puzzled. "A cellar, you mean, or just a foundation? Randall - we decided against a cellar."
O'Dwyer actually leaves his post, and heads toward where Miguel is talking to the White woman.
Kei would almost cringe, but he manages to keep some composure. "Yes, Miss Brown," he says softly. "I thought that she preferred to be called Naomi -- that is what she told me." He looks a little circumspect. Not unusual that Kei calls most people in Maddock by first names -- they tend to offer that much to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Letitia leave, and Christopher arrive. A reasonable trade. "Mister Quintan!" he says, raising a hand.
Eugenia says, "Thank you, Sheriff." She smiles to the man, as she finds herself safely off the stage. "The event seems to have been a great success."
Miguel answers, "A cellar. Si. Ylsa wants a cellar and I do not think that unless she learns how to use a shovel, her cellar will not be as large as she thinks it will be. Ran-- Senor Kyle is back?" That's news to Miguel', whose eyebrow arches up over his eye. Then he looks again at O'Dwyer, "Senor." The title is tossed in greeting.
Barron tilts his head and nods to Eugenia. "It appears to be. Ah hope you'll excuse me - it's been a long hard day and ah think ah'll retire for the evenin'. You'll be safe ridin' your wagon home alone?" he asks poltiely.
O'Dwyer says, "Good day to you, sir, and may all the Angels keep ye safe. I saw you given a rosary to this fine lady, now, and explainin' its meanin', eh?" He grasps his left hand to his right as he joins the small circle of Miguel and Maggie."
Garrett cocks a brow, hmming to himself quietly. "I'm sure she told me she had no preference..." He shrugs, apparently letting it pass. Then he sees Christopher Quintan, the man himself walk up, smoking that wonderful smelling cigar. Lucky bum. He levels an accusatory glance at Kei. "I don't suppose I'm going to be able to smoke again soon am I?"
Maggie blinks. "No. No, I meant - I meant, back when we were building the house." Maggie's house didn't burn down. "Back, you know, back, a few years ago. He...no. No, he's not back." Blinking again.
Only now does Eugenia seem to note the time. "Oh," she says, glancing toward Steady Eddie and the buckboard. "I don't see why not. That Injun fella that's been staying out my way hasn't given any trouble."
Maggie nods to O'Dwyer, once and twice and then again, looking slightly disoriented.
Barron raises his eyebrows. "Injun?" he asks. "Saddle up, ma'am. Ah'll ride my horse and escort you back, just to make sure you're okay. Can't trust no Injun, no way no how."
Miguel reaches to touch Maggie slightly on the elbow, then nods to O'Dwyer. "I was telling her that I will get her one, Si. And trying to tell her how it is used, though I think she will only need it to touch and hold. Senora Kyle," here, "has busy fingers and they look for things to do, always in her pockets. I thought if her pockets had something..." Miguel grins at the other man.
Letitia lingers near the refreshments, glancing toward Kei as one of the women begins relating a story about the Chinaman running pellmell in short pants through the town.
Christopher offers a polite nod to the foreign doctor, "Evening, Kai-San. You look much better than the last I saw you." He nods to the other men present in the current group, but says nothing to them. Back to Kei, "You have some spare tea I could borrow, later this evening?"
Kei can only smile at Garrett's obvious desperation. "It would be less than good for you. But..." He coughs slightly -- cigars never really agreed with him. "If you wait until I cannot breathe it in...or smoke it downwind, I know the importance of satisfying one's urges for well-being." He turns beet-red. Ahems. And nods to Christopher. "Yes. Do you need to get it from me personally?"
Maggie nods a few more times, and produces a smile, relaxing slightly. "It sounds nice."
The term, "Kai-San," apparently tickles Kei to some extent. He seems slightly amused.
Eugenia goes to retrieve her dishes at the Sheriff's words. Lo and behold, every last bit of her desserts have been consumed. Faintly smiling in pride, Eugenia stacks up the pans and carries them toward the buckboard.
Barron dips his head politely to everyone else, and makes his way outside after saying his goodbyes, tucking his cowboy hat back onto his head, tilting it low as he strides.
O'Dwyer says, "Now, that'd be interestin'. But if you wouldn't mind helpin' a fellow Catholic, and be tellin' this Irishman where your priest is? They seem to be very rare west of the Mississippi.""
Garrett looks quite relieved at Kei's words. And, with much ado, he begins collecting his crutches and getting to his feet awkwardly. "Excuse me..." He mutters once or twice as he avoids hitting anyone nearby with the crutches. Eventually he is standing near Christopher and Kei. He squares his gaze on Christopher. "Mr. Quintan, I believe that you and I have never been introduced properly. My name is Michael Garrett." Conspicuous by its absence is his title. "I was wondering if I could ask you a question."
Miguel nods to that, in agreement. "We had a padre here, for a while. And he was a fine man, but I think he became scared or was called away. I do not remember his name. Senora Kyle, do you? The Padre, Catholic?" Then Miguel looks back over at O'Dwyer. "There is Greg Brandt, but he is not Catholic." So he evidently doesn't count.
Eugenia nimbly climbs upon her wagon and takes up the reins. She urges her plowhorse through the people on the edges of the gathering and then safely to the street.
Eugenia heads towards the road.
Steady Eddie follows Eugenia.
Barron heads towards the road.
O'Dwyer says, "I don't rightly know what kind of Calvinist "Reformed" type people are, but, I didn't think they are good Catholics.""
Christopher shakes his head to Kei, "No, but I gave you the last of what I had the other day, and have need for some, now. I will pick some up in Great Falls, but a small amount would get appreciated." He turns to the Irishman, "Plenty of padres down Mexico way." Though you best speak Spanish to fully enjoy them.
Maggie shakes her head. "I don't remember, and it was some time ago. I was going to, to ask whether you go to Great Falls, or... but I didn't know if I ought to." She does assure, "Greg's very _nice_, and I expect he's very educated in religion, even beyond his..." Um. Er. Word. "Specialty."
O'Dwyer looks at Christopher. "Now, you be sayin' the truth, Quintan, but I particularly like the climate here in Maddock. Good for my hip."
"Not Catholic. Greg Brandt is a good man, but he is not Catholic and I do not go to him for confession or anything." Miguel grins then, winking at Maggie before looking back at O'Dwyer, "I think I should go find a priest soon, because if I die with all this I have not confessed, I will burn." Christopher enters the conversation and Miguel lapses into silence.
"You're going to Great Falls?" Kei asks politely. "I will be going there myself, soon. I need to go to my dispensary there to get a few supplies." He is concentrating very hard on talking to Christopher and Garrett, though the growing flush on his cheek without the aid of whiskey shows that some of the gossiping about his unfortunate streaking is something he can hear.
Maggie nods. "I suppose I meant, more, for advice, that sort of thing." She breaks off and blinks at Christopher.
"Lord have mercy, he was -chasin'- that woman!" says one of the gossipers as she relates what she heard fourth hand from her husband's cousin's sister who saw part of it with her OWN EYES. "Course, she was a negress, so not worth a plug a tobacco, but still. Actin' like a harlot with the Chinaman!"
Letitia's eyebrows lift as she sips her punch and listens with avid attention to the latest 'news'.
The battleaxe named Agatha comes over to sternly look at everyone. "How dare you say such things about that little Chinaman," she gruffly mutters. "Get it -right-. I heard they was both nekkid as the day they was -born-."
Christopher gives a look to Miguel, some thought turning wheels in his head, then he laughs, shortly, "Well, we all know where Karl is. I don't think the Pope himself coulda helped him."
Maggie's face goes from nervous to shocked, and she looks abruptly away from Christopher as she re-settles her hands in her pockets.
O'Dwyer says, "Now, you know what the fathers taught us Jesus said. "It's easier fer a camel to pass through an eye of a needle, then for a rich man to gain entrance into heaven.""
Christopher makes no comment about the Negress comment, despite his known penchant for fighting for the North, while his father supported the Confederacy, fervently.
That came from left field. Miguel's eye widens slightly with that eyebrow arching in surprise, over it. He studies Christopher for a moment, then nods. But... Miguel does have to ask, "The Senor Quintan, he was Catholic?" There's a slight nod to acknowledge O'Dwyer.
Kei scratches lightly behind his ear, nodding to Christopher...and conveniently hiding some of his face from the increasing onslaught of LAC gossiping. If he /was/ to have done something with any woman...it obviously is good, becuase it stops him from /talking/ about those things in front of large crowds. Repression and all. He says to Christopher, "There is always hope fora soul, you know." It is might to be a comforting platitude...though more than anything, it takes up space that Kei would otherwise spend aheming.
Christopher nods to O'Dwyer, "I'm afraid we haven't been introduced. Obviuosly you know me, but you would be?" He extends a hand to the Mick in greeting, and tries to catch up on all the conversation, in turn. If this man knows his name, likely he knows /this/ Quintan, and most of his men at the ranch, have been showing up for church regularly, of late.
The flock of clucking gossips is atitter as they whisper and exchange words. Agatha, however, doesn't have a volume control. "Ran right across the church yard like a couple of heathens in nothing but -skin-!" she says. However, Letitia fixes Agatha with an uncertain look. "Are you sure? I heard they were wearing some clothing."
Christopher shakes his head to Miguel, "He might have been, Miguel, but then my father was many things." Hell, he figures the people here would know more about his father than he, all things considered.
Maggie throws a confused glance toward Agatha's party, then looks back to those around her. Not daring to participate, just here.
O'Dwyer doesn't shake hands with Christopher. "Sean O'Dwyer. Just made my way up the Platte, and got here just after the fire. Heard at the Caspar settlement that there was good grazing land avialable, on the river. But, seems someone had it all locked up before the wee common folk could bid on it."
Christopher offers to the smaller man, "When were you leaving, Doctor Kei? I'm leaving in just a day or two."
Christopher gives a rather displeased look to the Mick. "What land are you referring to, Sean O'Dwyer?"
Kei hmms? distractedly. "I hadn't picked an exact time, but if you are leaving in the next few days...I can leave at any time at that point. I've tied up my cases for the nonce." He lifts an apologetic hand. "If you will excuse me." He moves, albeit somewhat awkwardly, towards the LAC and a waiting, -non-alcoholic- drink. He offers a gentle smile to Agatha in particular, and bows the ladies, including Letitia. "I was clothed, and Miss Brown was entirely," he says politely, casual to the point of seeming unaffected.
O'Dwyer says, "The Quintans and the Brandts own all the choice grazing land with natural waters. At least, That's what I heard say.""
Maggie nods, very slightly. "I, I expect so, yes."
Letitia's eyes can't help but to sparkle in approval at the Chinaman's handling of the situation. She sips her punch to hide a little smile. Agatha is flustered by the gentle smile and she actually looks a little shamed at her gossip. For about six seconds, anyway.
Miguel remains quiet now, just listening. He sips his beer.
Christopher nods, "I won't speak for the Brandt's, O'Dwyer," now taking a slight derisive tone with the man, "but my land down on the river has been mine, and father's for almost 20 years." He drops his hand, "If you let a slight like that keep you from a friendly gesture of greeting, when the land hasn't even been for sale since we purchased it, I believe you are in for a long time finding proper grazing land for your sheep."
Kei holds his drink delicately in his hand. His tone is very gentle, even-keeled, and even pleasant when he explains, "I thought it beneath the Ladies' Auxilliary Committee's notice to even consider me, or Miss Brown. I am...surprised at your attention, and honored that your committee is so vigilant of the..affairs of others. But I felt I must confirm that we remained proprietous so much as not to offend you. I apologize for any offense I may have caused. Miss Brown is entirely innocent -- I was ill, and because of this, improperly attired."
O'Dwyer says, "I've paid my dues, Quintan. Have you?""
Christopher takes a step towards the Mick, "I have, sir. The question is, have you in /this/ country?"
Miguel glances at Maggie, takes another sip of beer.
Maggie blinks confusedly, looking back and forth. What? "What's this about?"
O'Dwyer says, "Aye. You think I got this way from fallin' down drunk in Ireland, now? You are old enough to sevre in the war. What unit were you in?""
Letitia is hard-pressed not to laugh outright in delight at Kei. She sips again from her punch to keep herself quiet and to keep her hands away from the urge to applaud. Agatha clears her throat, croaking, "Guess I was told wrong." The group of women seems to believe Kei, but one or two of them really -did- see him running.
O'Dwyer scratches the back of his neck with his left hand.
Kei c