Picnic Basket Auction

June 29th, 1877

[Editor's Note]

Thank you to everyone who attended and made it such a fun evening!  This log ends at exactly 12am my time, but once I can acquire the end I will post the remnants.  A special thanks also to Agatha for taking over once I had to bail.   - Gertrude

[The Cast]   (Jump To The Log)

Chance, Damien, Delaware, Dora, Elise, Eugenia, Hank, Barron, Jacques, Gertrude, Letitia, Matilda, Lockett, Rick, Sarah, O'Dwyer, Thierry, Ty.

[Chance Jameson] A slight man, Chance is of below average height, and clean shaven. His actions don't usually remind one of this, though, as often they are brash, and what one would expect from a man used to being smaller than most and having to make up for it in word and actions. Some call it the "Napoleon Complex."
An attractive man, what some women would call "cute," he does have a boyish charm, and can be forgiven for indiscretions an older man might not get a way with.
He walks with the swagger of youth, and takes the time to appraise any woman that catches his eye. That would be most.
He speaks with a slight English lilt, but obvious southern influence.
His attire is that of a well tailored young man, and he isn't ashamed to let his money show. Easily a hundred dollar suit, the youngster spends his money with ease, but it does look good on him.
He is smartly dressed, wearing a bright white silk shirt, a gray and white checkered silk vest with deeply creased black wool trousers. Finishing the outfit is a black western bolo tie, a silver watch fob, and a handsome pair of well tooled black leather boots.
The youngster carries a newfangled imported British Thomas .450 inch self-extracting revolver in a high-rise Slim-Jim hip holster.

[Damien D'aray] Damien D'aray is a tall, well-favored man. Intense black eyes stare out of a handsome face framed by shoulder-length curly black hair and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. His movements are slow and lackadaisical, filled with a natural grace, and when he speaks his voice is rich with the cultured accent of Southern gentility. 

He is dressed in a charcoal gray cotton shirt with banded collar and black cloth covered buttons, a doubled-breasted vest with a dark royal blue paisley pattern against a black background and silver buttons, a platinum chain draped between the watch pocket and one button, and dark royal blue pants tucked into black stovepipe boots. A dark royal blue frock coat and black cavalry hat round out the outfit. All clothes are of fine quality and well tailored.

[Delaware Clysdon] A tall man, lean but not underweight. Jason Delaware has black hair that is cut just above his collar. The thick wavy locks defy style and often fall free from the careful grooming to rest against his forehead and cheeks. He appears to be in his early thirties and his dark skin is clean shaven. Like his coloring, his eyes are dark; Blue in color and edged with faint wrinkles that are the only distinguishing mark of his age. He is wearing a pair of jeans, once crisp and new, the several months of washing has faded the softened denim and they fit him well. His shirt is a soft butternut color, homemade with a short collar. He wears a simple overcoat of gray canvas against the cool weather. On his feet, a pair of black tailored boots disappear upwards under his jeans. 

[Dora] Slender and tall, this woman stands a lean 5'7, her height accented by the flowing and rather old-fashioned - Victorian England old fashioned - dress she wears. Under her hat, complete with lace dripping over the front and silken flowers curled around the hatband, Dora's hair is a pale-spun gold, and her eyes, a deepest green to match the emerald hue of the elegant dress. Her features are as fine as her white-silk gloved hands, and assembled pleasingly on Dora's face. Endowed as a lean woman might be, and with hips that may prove difficult should she ever bear children, Dora's theme-word might be 'stately', instead of a more earthly description. Black boots, immaculately polished, peep out from under the hem of her dress.

[Elise Montgomery] Long, golden hair is pinned back into a coiled braid, a hair style too old for the young face it frames. Only in her early twenties, the woman's porcelain skin is free from any wrinkles and hints at a life spent indoors. A pair of silver-rimmed spectacles perch on her upturned nose, covering eyes of hazel-green. One could not call her beautiful, but she is pretty in her own way. The emerald green of the gown she wears brings out the hints of green in the woman's eyes, the result of careful consideration on the part of some modiste. The gown has been excellently made, every line emphasizing the delicate curves of her slender form. Black thread embroiders both the bodice and sleeves, as well as the hem. The ever present golden locket gleams from its position around her neck, resting over a modest, but flattering, neckline. Hailing from the Northeast, Elise Montgomery's accent and manners clearly mark her as a lady.

[Eugenia Rhodes] Though no great beauty, this woman is pretty enough for a homesteader's widow. She has a toned, sturdy body with long limbs and ripe, feminine curves. Thick, light brown hair with blonde highlights is neatly braided up behind her head with a thin blue ribbon threaded in the braiding. A curled lock of hair dangles forward over one shoulder. Quiet, green eyes watch the world from beneath delicately arched eyebrows. Her mouth is full and petulant, giving her a somewhat pouty look whether or not she's feeling that way. Her hands are square and somewhat large for a woman, flesh marked with calluses and scars from her life of hard work. 

The gown that adorns her is patterned with sprigs of tiny bluebells and ivy on a white background. Equally small rosettes of blue satin dot the square neckline that reveals the long, smooth expanse of her throat and the tiniest hint of cleavage. The skirt is drawn up in swags near the bottom to reveal her pale blue petticoat and the toes of her high-buttoned boots. The short, puffed sleeves end at the middle of her biceps in a little ribbon bow. 

[Hank Mathison] Quite broad in the chest and shoulders, and standing a respectable six feet and a few inches, this man seems to radiate solidity and quiet strength. Eyes the color of caramel rest behind gold-tinged wireframe glasses, his lashes touched by the same honey blond color of his short-cropped hair. His voice is colored by a rich baritone. A slightly squared jaw lends definition to his boyishly attractive face, white teeth and the hint of a dimple revealing themselves when he smiles. He appears to be in his twenties. 
His shirt is pale homespun, sleeves tight over strong arms and fabric stretched taut across his shoulders. Faded jeans are belted at a narrow waist with brown leather, denim only slightly masking the strength of his legs. Worn-in cowboy boots of scuffed brown are upon his feet. A dusty brown Stetson slouches comfortably atop his head.

[Jack Barron] Jack Barron stands roughly six feet two inches tall. A lanky man, he has a wiry sort of body type that is more prone to quick action then to massive strength. His face is etched in solid hard lines, and he perpetually has a cigarette in his mouth. His eyes are a pale blue, narrowed as if squinting at some unseen sun. His hair is cut short, military style and his skin is tanned a dark, leathery color from hours in the sun. He wears a cowboy hat, tilted down over his eyes to protect from the sun when necessary. A simple shirt and jeans over his boots. A large knife is held at one hip - low (Bowie to those that know it) and a pair of Colt Single Action Army .45 pistols ride in a crossdraw rig over each hip - with loops for rounds (which are filled) on each belt.. When he speaks, it's with a tangible Texan accent, the twang riding over each of his words. One his lapel he wears a piece of wrought jewelry - looks like a silver star with 'Sheriff' emblazoned on it.

[Jacques Moreau] A man a little on the short side with very broad shoulders that give him the overall appearance of being square in shape. His head is completely hairless except for bushy black eyebrows and a handlebar moustache that is his pride and joy. His eyes are a light grey and his nose has been broken a few times at least. His arms, shoulders, and chest are all well developed from long hours spent swinging an axe. When he speaks his accent betrays him to be a French-Canadian. He is dressed in a red flannel shirt, blue denim pants held up with suspenders, and sturdy work boots. 

[Gertrude MacDonald] A boisterously lively older woman, the stark white hair and indication that at one time, she was a fiery red head. She is loud and friendly, but incredible clumsy, often sporting a new bruise from some fiasco or another.
She is dressed in a simple navy blue gown of practical wool. A bright green silk scarf is wrapped around her neck.

[Letitia Taylor] Letitia exudes an air of fragility that is as apparent as her grace and good breeding. The rich, black tone of her hair is highlighted with hints of blue that add depth to her tresses. Beneath delicate brows on an oval face, she has violet blue eyes that are rimmed with long, black lashes. Soft color touches the slanted cheekbones that flank her slender nose. Above her pointed little chin, the petulant fullness of her soft mouth is the color of vibrant, summer roses. 

A white taffeta gown patterned with sprigs of violets swathes Letitia's lithe form. Slightly off the shoulder, the neckline forms a vee that allows the tiniest hint of cleavage to be shown. Pleated cap sleeves angle in a perfect line with the neckline and leave pale arms bare. Tailored to fit against her torso like second skin, the gown tapers below the neckline and a pleated sash of violet blue encircles her tiny waist, tied in the back into a magnificent bow with the rest of the sash falling nearly to the floor. Her slender skirt is draped in front to show off the pleated rows of a violet underskirt and it is gently bustled in the back. Black dancing slippers encase her feet. 

Lacy gloves of white cover her hands and a satin bag of violet hangs from her left wrist by its silken cord drawstring. Her dark hair is elegantly upswept and adorned with a silver, filigreed comb.

[Matilda Moreau] Matilda Tempeste Moreau is caught in that coltish stage between girl and woman. Long, thick, light brown hair is tied at the nape of her neck with dark green ribbon, leaving the rest of the mass to tumble down her back. The girl's oval face is as mercurial as her personality. Naturally arched eyebrows seem to give her a perpetual expression of faint surprise. Her grey eyes can be as dewy as an April morning, as stormy as a July thundershower, or as chill as a November sky. Sunlight has tanned the slightly upturned tip of her slender nose as well as her slanted cheekbones. Above her decidedly stubborn chin is the full mouth used to express her honeyed voice. 

She is wearing a dress of green-and-white gingham in small, checked print. Eyelet lace decorates the gathered hems of the short, puffy sleeves and eyelet fabric forms the squared yoke on the bodice. The dress is unadorned but for these touches and the little wooden buttons that dot from neck to waist in a straight line. The bodice lightly hugs her body above the waist, revealing her nubile curves. The skirt falls from the waistline in simple folds to end just below her ankles in an eyelet lace hem. Worn brown shoes are sometimes glimpsed below the hemline.

[Nathaniel Lockett] He stands tall, with a rigid posture and eyes that almost sparkle with a glee that no man in his right mind should know. He sports a moustache and the beginnings of a beard shadow, but all in all is remarkably clean as are his clothes. When he speaks people notice the high-pitched tone of his voice and the slight lisp. He wears a cleanly pressed shirt of stark white cotton, a finely tailored black pin stripe vest, matching slacks and jacket. Fastened around his neck is a thick scarf of royal blue silk, knotted just below the closed collar. His boots draw the most notice, narrow-toed, they appear to be made out of snake skin. The heels are at least an inch high, adding to his medium height of 5'9". On his right hand is a large gold band bejeweled with a large miner's cut diamond. A bolero completes the ensemble. He carries no visible weapons, his hands currently occupying themselves with a worn deck of cards.

[Rick Porter] Richard Porter (Rick to his friends) is a man worthy of a second glance. He stands a hint over six feet tall, and his broad shoulders set off a solid frame, though not solid enough to be considered heavy-set. His hair, kept neat and short, could be considered a nondescript brown until sunlight brings out a red-gold tint. Brown eyes keenly watch Rick's surroundings, and usually seem to be reflecting some inner amusement. 

Rick is dressed conservatively: a neat suit of dark gray, with a white shirt and black string tie. His shoes may have been polished recently, but dust and mud take their toll quickly.

[Sarah Williams] A pleasant young woman around 20 years of age, Sarah Williams stands around 5'5" tall, and seems to be neither too skinny nor too fat. While not exactly a beauty queen, Sarah isn't ugly, either. Plain is a good description for her, although at least her skin is smooth. Her long ash-blonde hair is tied into a braid that reaches to her waist, and her expressive green eyes show her intelligence as well as her emotions. 

Her outfit looks fairly standard for a young woman from a ranch or farm. A light blue dress in a floral pattern, plain brown shoes, and a hat to keep the sun off her head and face.

[Sean O'Dwyer] He is a man of medium height, burly without being grotesque. His brownish red hair is long, and combed back from his head to about a scraggly shoulder length. He has a full beard, not so scraggly as his hair, and short enough so a person can see more red in it then his hair. He walks slowly, with a slight limp when he moves his left leg, and there is something odd about his posture, as if his right shoulder was higher then his left. His moss green eyes are full of cover, but they do not twinkle. He's missing the pinky on his left hand. 
He is currently wearing a white linen shirt, tied with drawstrings at the neck and sleeves. He's wearing a brown woolen vest, with brown woolen buttons and a matching jacket. He has dark blue pants that have worn at the knees, which is just above a pair of black leather shoes, again, which have seen better days. 
He's currently wearing a slanted kepi, dark blue with a black bill, and a cornet curled on top. The headgear of the Army of the Potomac, for those who would know.

[Thierry Marcel] Lean, grizzled. No, it's not the way people should enjoy bacon (though it is an option), but rather, it's one of the first things noticeable about this man. Life has made its mark on his face (as has the sun), evidenced by the wrinkles. A tall lanky fella, he carries himself with a certain amount of serenity. A blond, though he doesn't act it (probably from the gray mixed in there), he also displays the callouses of man who knows what it means to work and work hard. Thierry is dressed simply in a pair of nice pants over boots, a well-kept, clean blue shirt, scarf around his neck, and stetson pulled low, just over green eyes. While his accent is that of someone from the deeps of the South, some Louisiana, some Texas (either way, it's a heck of a drawl), his grammar and diction walk a fine line between unlettered rube and educated man.

[Ty Ellis]  A young man of average height, with hazel eyes and wavy, light brown hair, not particularly handsome but not ugly either. His body is lean and hard and his hands rough and callused from the hard work of earning his living from the soil, his skin bronzed from long hours spent out in the sun. He is dressed in a plain brown wool suit that clearly isn't tailored but doesn't fit him too badly, a boiled shirt with a standup collar, a black string tie, and brown brogans that look like they may have actually been polished fairly recently. 

[The Log]

It is Friday morning.

Ty walks over from the churchyard, looking around at the people gathering here, nodding to those he nods.

Eugenia is one of the first here, it seems, as she arrives with her dark wicker basket. Some might not immediately recognize the widow as she isn't wearing her usual black garments. No, for this special picnic, she's chosen to wear blue and white.

Ty stands looking around and occasionally talking to one of the other homesteaders.

Sarah smiles at Eugenia, "Hello, Mrs. Rhodes. I'm glad you could make it."

Thierry arrives after the Widow, and with that, he'll probably not be able to avoid being noticed which had been his intent. Still, he glances around to see if there's anyone else here that he knows.

Eugenia seems grateful for Sarah's welcoming smile. She makes her way toward the young woman and smiles back to her with friendly warmth. "Thank you. I'd worried about coming and bringing something, but it is for a good cause, isn't it?" Thierry is noticed. Oh, yes, he is. Genie's green eyes follow him with quiet anger.

Matilda gladly follows Jacques into the picnic area, smiling happily as she looks over the area with her bright grey eyes. "Is this where you go to church, mon oncle?" she asks the man as he carries her basket. "You will take me next Sunday, oui?"

Jacques nods. "Oui, a young girl should go to church so I will bring you." Nevermind the fact that he's somewhat irregular in going to church himself. He has Responsibilities now that must be attended to. "Do you see where they are putting the baskets?"

Well, so much for that. Still, he can be polite, and so Thierry tips his hat in Eugenia's direction. Once he's done that, however, he moves along to regard Matilda, at whom he grins.

Sarah looks to see the target of Eugenia's wrathful gaze, shrugs, and turns back to the widow. "You could hardly be expected to pass up the celebration of the Fourth, and as you say, the money from the picnic auction is for the school."

Damien arrives with Letitia on his arm, each carrying a picnic basket.

Matilda shakes her head, stirring her hair down her back. "Non, I did not," she says, but as she looks around she spies Thierry. A brilliant smile lights up her face. "It is my footman!" the girl laughs. "Allo, Monsieur Marcel."

Thierry gives a very elaborate bow to Matilda, "It is my princess. I hope this day finds you well?"

Eugenia nods to Sarah as she forces herself to merely ignore the blasted former farmhand of her's. "My black dress needs mending after a mishap the other day, so I brought this one out. It's likely to be cooler anyhow," she says in her Southern drawl.

Letitia carries a basket that's handle is wrapped in blue ribbon and he carries one with yellow ribbon. Her violet gaze travels over the lawn in amusement. "Do you see Gertrude or Agatha?" she asks her escort.

Ty smiles as he spots Sarah and excuses himself from the farmer he's talking to in order to walk over and say, "Hello, Miss Williams."

Gertrude hurries over, carrying a pair of pitchers. She finds a spot on the refreshment table to set these down she smoothes down her rumpled gown. She managed to make it over here without incident, but that is short lived when the woman trips over her own feet and goes reeling through the crowd.

Sarah turns to face Ty, slightly startled, "Hello, Mr. Ellis. I was talking to Mrs. Rhodes, and didn't hear you approach." Her warm smile reveals the fact that she doesn't seem to mind being startled. Then, as if remembering, she looks from Ty to Eugenia, "Have you two met?"

Eugenia says, "Good Lord Above!" She hurries forward after her exclamation, trying to catch Gertrude and not upset her basket in the process. "Are you hurt?" Clearing her throat, Genie adds, "I don't think he tripped you on purpose, ma'am."

Rick smiles at Elise, "It's a good thing she put the pitchers down before she fell."

Ty shakes his head and starts to answer when Gertrude trips and he follows after Eugenia to help the woman.

Matilda's contagious laugh is -this close- to a giggle. "Oui, il fait, mon footman. Shhh, ou ils font tout suspect ma vraie identite!" she says to Thierry, glancing sidelong to her uncle with a broad grin.

Elise's lips twitch at Rick's comment, her eyes dancing in amusement. "Yes, or I dare say you would have ended up doused again already." She gives the man a sidelong glance before shifting her eyes to scan the church lawn for familiar faces.

Damien starts to shakes his head and then cringes slightly as he sees Gertrude fall and the resulting turmoil. He nods in the woman's direction. "Over there."

Gertrude smiles at Eugenia, averting a fall with her help. "Hurt? Good heavens, no. I'm fine." She steads herself by holding Eugenia's arm then turns to smile at Ty, "Good Morning, Mr. Ellis."

Letitia squeezes Damien's elbow and then releases his arm, holding her basket with both hands. "Shall we?" she asks him. "Surely they won't mind if we place our baskets there."

Jacques looks Matilda with a curious expression, wondering what on earth the girl is talking about.

Thierry nods sagely as he lays a finger across his lips. "My apologies. I will keep your secret."

Ty smiles at Gertrude, "Good morning, ma'am."

Matilda mock-whispers to Thierry, "This is mon oncle, the king's brother? He is also in disguise." The girl merrily grins and nudges Jacques. "Jacques d'Oncle, have you met Monsieur Marcel?"

Damien nods to Letitia, "I think it should be alright."

Eugenia nods to Gertrude and smiles in relief, adjusting her basket. She looks back to Sarah in apology, returning to the young woman's side. "Am I supposed to put this down somewhere?" she asks her.

Thierry grins and holds out his hand to Jacques, "Bonjour, Monsieur. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Gertrude follows after Eugenia, not done with her yet. She nods to Sarah then looks over the widow, "The bows! The bows! Such a lovely gown." She eyes the basket, "You will be entering a basket then?"

Jacques shakes his head. "No, I 'ave not." He takes the man's hand in a firm grip. "Bonjour, Monsieur Marcel."

Jacques leans towards Matilda and speaks to her in a low voice. He mutters to Matilda, "... secret... vous parlez..." 

Matilda says, "Monsieur Marcel has a neveu who is close to mon age, I think. But he is not so nice as mon footman."

Rick nods to Eugenia, pointing towards a table with some baskets, "I put mine over there, and it seems other people did the same."

Sarah nods to Eugenia, pointing towards a table with some baskets, "I put mine over there, and it seems other people did the same."

Delaware arrives and hangs back at the edge of the crowd appraising in which direction he might go. Eyeing Thierry with Jacques and that pretty young girl from the doctor's place he decides a different direction might be prudent. His eyes brush over the crowd till he spies Elise.

Thierry shakes his head at Matilda, "Theo- is a good lad. What happened that night was my fault. You will like him, I think, if you get to know him better."

Jacques gets a suspicious look in his eye. "What 'appened?"

Eugenia gratefully smiles to Gertrude. Everyone has reacted favorably to her choice of dress thus far, so she is beginning to relax. "Thank you, ma'am. Yes, I've brought a basket. It's for a good cause, after all, and I have a reputation to keep up after the Quintan contest." She grins.

Gertrude just seems tickled as she nods to Eugenia. "Indeed, I wasn't able to attend. Sprained ankle you know, but I heard all about your entry for at least a week to come after that."

Letitia threads her way through the gathering, pausing here and there to offer smiles and greetings. Her smile to Elise is downright mischievous and she nods to Delaware. Then, without delay, she moves to put her basket on the auction table and she motions for Damien to bring the other.

Damien guides Letitia over to the table with the picnic baskets. As they set them down he tilts his head towards her and, grinning, speaks in a low voice. He mutters to Letitia, "... to... the..." 

Thierry smiles genially at Jacques as he explains, "My nephew was merely upset with me, and so wasn't on his best behavior. That's all."

Matilda slowly nods to Jacques, wrinkling up her nose. "He was not so nice, but I forgave him because I am a princesse and it was my birthday. All transgressions were excused."

Jacques nods to Thierry and smiles at Matilda. "I see. Well that was very generous of you, your 'ighness."

Eugenia lowers her voice to confess toward Gertrude and Sarah, "I didn't bring chicken this time. Considering how much meat that bear brought in, I used some of it."

Elise steps away from Rick as she rises on her tiptoes to try to see over the people around her. Letitia's smile causes her to freeze. That smile means doom, doesn't it? A frown flickers across her lips, though quickly disappears as the writer sees the banker. She offers him a smile then turns back to watch the crowd around her.

Ty turns back to Sarah. "How are you today, Miss Williams?"

Letitia shakes her head emphatically to Damien, gifting him with an amused and chiding look. "No, not the one with -yellow- ribbons. That is for Elise. Mine is the one with the -blue- ribbons," she explains.

Letitia says, "Speaking of Elise... just look at her! Isn't she lovely? I've never seen her in green before, but it is very flattering to her."

Sarah smiles warmly at Ty, "I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Ellis. Are you planning to biy a basket?" She laughs impishly, "If you bought several, you'd have food for a week."

Gertrude looks wide eyes at Eugenia, "I head about the bear, it is true then. The Sheriff killed it? What a feat this must have been!" She looks away as Agatha approaches and whispers hurriedly. "Oh, excuse me." She flits away.

Damien looks at the writer and nods in agreement with Letitia. He mutters to Letitia, "... I'd say..." 

Delaware approaches Elise, his steps slowing as he notes Rick's proximity. His scowl is grand, the brows furrowing together. He manages to wipe most of it away before he approaches the pair. "Good Morning, Miss Montgomery."

Matilda's charming French accent is prevalent each time she opens her mouth to speak. "Monsieur Marcel, is your neveu to attend the picnic? I have prepared a basket." She whispers again, "Two, actually. A fine lady hired me to make up food for another one. I think she cannot cook, eh?"

Ty returns Sarah's smile. "Yes, I thought I would buy a basket but just one. I don't know that I could afford more than that so I will have to choose very carefully."

Eugenia watches Gertrude slip away, halfway hoping the Agatha doesn't find her. She idly looks over the gathering to count those she knows. She spies the banker with his usual scowl and then she mimics it when she notes Thierry again. Damned disloyal employee.

Thierry grins at this admission, though for politeness sake he ignores it. "I am uncertain whether he will be here or not. I had hoped so, but he might be trying to find his friends, still."

Letitia's expression warms as she looks over Damien. "You are very kind, sir," she murmurs to him with a softened smile. "If I may say so, you are looking quite well yourself."

Jacques nods. "I 'ope he will be 'ere. I would like to meet 'im." He rubs his stomach looking around, "I 'ope they start the auction soon, eh."

Gertrude hurries off towards the large tent, hastily preparing for the announcement that the baskets will begin.

Elise either doesn't notice Delaware's black look, or she has gotten so used to it that she ignores it. She inclines her head politely, a bright smile tugging at her lips. "Good Morning, Mr. Clysdon."

Barron leaves his horse out on the lawn and slides off the saddle. Looks like he rode in from out of town, and he tilts his hat back a bit as he makes his way across the ground, cupping hands to light a cigarette.

Damien grins at the young woman he stands beside. He mutters to Letitia, "Do... my new suit?... it... I... the... of... because... Southerner... blue... for... now." 

Delaware reacts warmly to the smile, all but ignoring Rick. "So, Miss Montgomery. Are you selling the pleasure of your company today?"

Lockett arrives just behind Barron. His gaze sweeps over the crowd. Oh! He loves a party. Look, there are even a few familiar faces. Ah, who to torment first?

Thierry glances sidelong at the sound of the banker, his eyes widen briefly. Then he peers about to see if one of the lawmen are around.

If it wasn't already apparent that Miss Taylor was fond of Mr. D'aray, his latest quiet comment to her brings a look of quiet pleasure to her face. She speaks quietly in return, forcing herself not to touch his sleeve as she replies.

Letitia mutters to Damien, "I... think that... the... poet,... You... charming... heard."

Matilda nudges Jacques, grinning over at him with a teasing look. "I did not bring owl, mon oncle. I brought rabbit. Is that a welcome change?"

Elise arches one golden eyebrow, unsure how she should react to that. She finally simply decides to shake her head, "I had not planned to attend, so no." The writer clasps her hands in front of her, giving a slight shrug. "I thought you did not care for crowds?"

Rick isn't bothered by Delaware's scowl, but at the banker's comment to Elise, his expression darkens. "Perhaps you ought to ask that another way, sir."

Barron gently slaps Delaware's back, in the manner of man-friends everyone, "Delaware, do try to avoid tickin' everyon' off until the sun goes down, as a favor fer me? Ma'am." he greets Elise.

Jacques nods with a smile for Matilda. "Oui, that sound delicious." Then he teases, "Maybe I will bid on your basket even if someone else bids on it as well, eh?"

Delaware grins at Rick and winks, "Come on now, chap. Lighten up, it is after all a party." He waves his hand to indicate the crowd. He might have said more, even addressed Elise but Barron's greeting makes the man jump a little. He turns and smiles thinly at Barron. "Good Morning, Sheriff. Glad to see you made it." If Delaware is going to suffer, might as well have company.

Sarah nods to Ty, "I'm sure they're all very good."

Damien smiles at Letitia. "Why, Miss Taylor, didn't you know? All Southern gentlemen are brought up that way." Then he looks around curiously at the sound of raised voices.

Matilda laughingly places an affectionate arm about her uncle's broad shoulders. "Oui, you should!" she encourages. "I am very new here and that might not help me win many bids. Isn't the money to go for a school? That would be a good thing to have, eh?"

Thierry shakes his head slightly at Delaware. He does wish Theo was here, he sic the boy at Delaware, and let him go to. Now that would be fun.

Ty says, "I'm quite sure they are but there's more to choosing a basket than just what's in it don't you think?"

Lockett targets Thierry, the man slowly approaching the crowd around him. He nods to strangers as he passes, his gait a peacockish strut.

Barron smiles at Delaware, "Wouldn't miss it fer the world," he drawls, s ucking on his cigarette, "Ah ain't missed much more'n your buggin' the good writer-lady heah, have ah?"

Eugenia glances toward the sound of the Sheriff's voice and she smirks. She steps away from the table with the baskets to nod in greeting to Delaware, Barron, Elise and Rick. "Hello," she says to everyone. "J.D." Pause. "Sheriff."

Elise's lips part in dismay and she hurriedly moves to reassure the others, "He did not mean any harm by it." At least, she doesn't think he did. Turning towards Barron, the writer offers a warm smile. "Hello, sir. Tis nice to see you again." Eugenia receives an almost relieved glance, "Mrs. Rhodes."

Jacques smiles at his niece. "Oui, that is true. It is for a good cause, eh?"

Thierry doesn't notice that he's being targeted, for now, mostly he's watching the crowd with interest.

Is the Sheriff speaking English? Delaware blinks and then turns back to glance at Elise. "Am I /bugging/ you, Miss Montgomery?" He says the word in a mockery of a Texan accent before nodding to Eugenia, pointedly addressing her as "Genie."

Lockett approaches the small crowd, doing well to elbow himself into the inner circle of conversation. He nods to all present, his eyes momentarily fascinated by the bald man's head. He recovers from his long stare to finally announce, "Good Morning, one and all!"

"A true accent just sounds silly on ya, sir." the sheriff tells the banker, making 'sir'sound a great deal like 'cur'. "Stick with whatever it is you have that. That Yankee thing. If y'all excuse me," he says, nodding to Eugenia after a glance. "Ma'am." he says as he moves further onto the lawn to continue his greetings.

Matilda notices that Thierry is being targeted. What a funny fellow it is that comes up behind her footman! She smiles to him, remembering him from the boarding house, and bobs into a light curtsey.

Letitia finally drags her attention away from Damien to note Elise and her two erstwhile admirers. "Mr. D'aray, shall we go rescue Miss Montgomery?" she laughs.

Sarah smiles innocently at Ty, "Oh? And what else would you need to consider for a picnic, sir, beside the food?"

Jacques remembers Lockett. He was the one trying to carry Matilda's bag in the boarding house. He gives the man a suspicious look.

Elise chuckles softly, dryly replying, "No more then I plague you, Mr. Clysdon." She leaves it up to the man to decide just how much that is, though her eyes are filled with a great deal of amusement.

Damien nods to Letitia with a smile. "I do believe it is our duty."

Gertrude exits the tent, but stays on the tent platform. She carries a small triangle and an iron stick. The chimes that erupt as she rings it indicate she's looking for everyone's attention.

Rick snorts, "Certainly not anything the law needs to step in for."

Eugenia's gaze follows the Sheriff for an instant longer, scrolling over the crowd to take note of other women who might have supplied baskets. At least Gem Trotters doesn't seem to be here.

Thierry drifts away from the crowd, not being much of that type of person. He's going to stand near the entrance of the lawn, on a lookout for someone.

Ty smiles. "Well, there is the matter of who did the cooking." He glances over his shoulder as if worried there might be someone behind him and then lowers his voice, "I think Miss Pokryshkin would like me to buy her basket but I think I would like someone else's basket instead."

Lockett smiles at Matilda, tipping an imaginary hat brim. "Ma Petite, comment ca va?" Yes, he butchers the language as badly as he spells it pouting a little as Thierry slides away. Ah, well, there is always tomorrow.

Letitia grows quiet even as she comes up just behind and to the side of Elise. She is smiling very widely as she folds her hands and affects an innocent look. That smiles utterly shatters the pretense.

Sarah drops the pose and oohs excitedly, "I think they'll be starting soon."

Delaware glances at Rick then at Elise and smiles. "As often as that, hmm? I shall have to try not to be such a nuisance." He turns to the sound of Gertrude making a racket.

Damien follows along behind Letitia, trying to pay close attention to Rick and Delaware as he does so.

Barron makes his way towards the sound, just humming to himself.

Ty turns to look at Gertrude. "Sure looks like it. Which basket do you think I should buy?"

Gertrude announces. "The basket auction will now commence. I believe I have all the baskets and the order they will be presented in is quite random." She smiles. "All of the proceeds will of course go into the town fund for improvement." She looks a bit confused and dips her head back into the tent. Harsh murmurs finally have her back smiling, "Our first basket is Miss Matilda Moreau."

O'Dwyer has cleaned himself up a bit. Barely.

Jacques holds up his hand. "I will bid one dollar!"

Matilda blinks in surprise and smiles toward her uncle. "Oh, that is me!" She clutches up some of her skirt and laughs as she makes her way toward Gertrude. She pauses near to the woman and bobs a quick curtsey.

Matilda says, "Mon oncle, hush! It is not yet time to bid!"

Matilda laughs.

Jacques laughs, looking a little embarrassed at his niece's words.

Gertrude tsks softly at the over anxious Jacques. "I have yet to open the bids, Mr. Moreau." She reaches into the tent, using drama to take the basket and display it for all. "Now. Do I hear a dollar for this fine basket?" She looks at Jacques, her brow raising. This is your cue.

Jacques nods emphatically. "One dollar!"

Speckled blue tinware, red-and-white checked napkins and a matching tablecloth are tucked into a dark wicker basket with these items:

Ragout de Lapin: plump rabbit stewed in a sauce of white wine, bacon, mushrooms, onion and garlic.

Etouffade de Pomme de Terre (Smothered Potatoes): tender new potatoes slow cooked with bacon, shallots, and thyme in light broth.

a bottle of white wine

a twisted loaf of crusty bread

Pouding Renverse Des Bleuets (Blueberry Upside Down Pudding): lemon-flavoured cake baked over fresh blueberries

Thierry offers, "I'll bid two dollars," with a raised hand.

Lockett is into the spirit of the event. He raises his hand and counters, "A dollar fifty!" Hey, even Lockett get's hungry. Too bad he's too late to actually matter with the bid. He glances at Thierry.

Sarah answers Ty in a serious tone, although the seriousness comes from no small effort. "Perhaps Mrs. Rhodes? And if you get along well with each other, you could have twice the farmland."

Matilda looks over the crowd hopefully and is very happy that her uncle isn't the only one bidding. The lovely girl smoothes her skirt anxiously with her hands.

Gertrude acknowledges Thierry's bid then looks about. "Any one else? I have two do-ll-ars for this fine basket, it's contents and the dining company of Miss Moreau."

A few miners start counting their money, pooling it together. One of them finally yells. "Two dollars and thirty cents!" Triumph!

Ty looks over at the Widow, nodding with a serious expression. "There is that to consider I suppose." Try as he might the tips of his lips curl up slightly.

O'Dwyer smiles slightly as he moves over to the back of the bidding, wondering if there's a free food table.

Thierry scrounges his pocket, frowning at the remains of his money. There's a pause as he waits to see if anyone is going to make another bid, then calls out, "Two forty."

Jacques smiles at Thierry and then shoots a glare at Lockett. He just knows that man has dishonorable intentions.

Rick smiles at Elise, "You didn't bring a basket, and a man's gotta eat, but I don't think I'd care to enjoy lunch with that uncle of hers watching us."

Letitia's eyes merely twinkle when she hears what Rick says. Daring a look to Damien, she tries very hard not to laugh!

Damien chuckles softly, winking at Letitia when she looks at him.

Matilda clasps her hands and smiles over the crowd, trying to spy the miners that shouted out a bid.

Barron listens to the bidding. Another cigarette is rolled and his hands go into his belt, leaning and watching.

Lockett notices the glare from Jacques but is impervious to it. He considers his remaining money and does not counter offer. Dishonorable intentions indeed, only if that counts a man looking for a well cooked meal.

"Two forty! Do I hear any other bids?" Gertrude looks pleased with the bidding on the first basket, but looks to Lockett for another bid. When none is forthcoming she sweeps the crowd, "Anyone else?"

Sarah allows the smile to break free, and replies to Ty "Of course, it might be awkward having farms at both ends of town."

Thierry waits impatiently to see if anyone else bids. To be honest, he can't go much higher than that.

Jacques sidles over towards Thierry, hands clasped behind his back as he looks around at the crowd.

Matilda catches her lip in her teeth, looking over everyone with a smile. She lets go of that lower lip when she spies her uncle approaching her 'footman'.

Elise glances towards Rick, inclining her head slightly. "I would certainly not wish for you to go hungry." This is said with an encouraging smile, and a gesture that indicates that he may feel free to bid whenever he wishes.

Eugenia mutters to herself, "Two... is... a lot... money. She did..."

Delaware glances at the exchange between Rick and Elise and scowls. He turns and watches the auction, trying to look bored and disinterested.

Gertrude announces to all and sundry, "Sold to the man with two dollars and forty cents." She laughs, liking her job and sets down the basket for the pair to claim. Now, who's next? She ducks into the tent.

Letitia inclines her head toward the saloon keeper and asks him in worry, She mutters to Damien, "... will... me from... miners,..." 

Jacques smiles, clapping Thierry on the shoulder. "Merci, Monsieur Marcel. I am glad to see 'er footman 'as come to the princess' rescue."

One of the coordinating ladies will wait for Thierry to pay for the basket and hand it over to Matilda with a smile.

Matilda plucks up her basket with a grin to Gertrude. Then, tiptoeing up, she looks for the man who purchased it. "Monsieur Marcel? Merci beaucoup!"

Thierry beams as he tips his hat to Matilda. Then grins at Jacques, "Well, it is only as a good footman should do." Then he heads for the table to hand over most of his money for the basket.

Damien nods to Letitia with a serious look. He mutters to Letitia, "... have my word,..." 

Matilda offers the basket to the winner with a grand smile.

"Sarah Williams basket." Gertrude holds this up for all to see. "Do I hear one dollar?"

Ty smiles at Sarah. "I suppose you're right." He looks up as he hears Sarah's name called. "One dollar!"

Thierry grins at Matilda as he takes the basket. "My princess, I hope you do not mind dining with your footman."

Lockett tries again, he is a hungry man. Removing his blue scarf at his neck he raises it like a flag and croons. "One dollar, fifty!"

Jacques, also known as the Plague of Locusts, holds up his hand and shouts, "Two dollars!" Look out ladies, he's got all that timber money to back up his bottomless appetite. Who knows how many baskets he's aiming to buy today!

Sarah oohs excitedly, and makes her way to the table, looking around to see who's bidding.

Gertrude loosk pleased, "The bidding is at two dollars! Any other bidders?"

Matilda quietly giggles as she takes Thierry's elbow. "I will not mind at all, monsieur. You are very handsome for a footman and you are very kind to bid upon my basket," she says with warm sincerity.

Ty looks a little worried and starts counting his money. "Two fifty!"

Lockett glances at Jacques. Hmmm, he looks quite.. interesting.. when he is determined. With a shrug, there are always other baskets. He doesn't offer a new bid.

Hank saunters over toward the party, pushing his hat back on his head.

Thierry tsks, "You say those things to be polite. I'm much too old to appear handsome to one of your age. And I'm hardly kind, I'm sure that I could direct you to several people in town who would tell you so."

Rick hmms, asking Elise and Letitia, and anyone else nearby, "Is she the one who took third place at Quintan's cook-off?"

Jacques hmms to himself, looking over at the homesteader with the worried look. Jacques is a hungry man but he is not a cruel one. He remains silent.

Matilda looks askance at Thierry and states, "Mais vous sont tres , Monsieur Marcel. Le gris dans vos cheveux fait vous paraissez distingu et vos yeux sont pleins de vie."

Eugenia nods in agreement to Rick, "Yes, I do believe so. Her stew looked delicious."

Gertrude repeats, "I have two fifty from Mr. Ellis, anyone else?" She doesn't even wait a suitable amount of time before adding, "Good! Then the basket of Miss Williams goes to Mr. Ty Ellis." Gertrude beams, perhaps the woman thinks she is playing matchmaker?

Ty smiles as he moves over to Gertrude carefully counting out his money.

Delaware simply shrugs, though even if he were sitting in Rick's lap its doubtful he would care what the man might have to say. /Not/ mind you, that Delaware would ever sit in Rick's lap.

Well, whatever was said, Thierry acquires a tinge of pink on his cheeks for those close enough to see it. "You are being too kind, my princess."

Lockett looks a bit disappointed then grins at Jacques who also lost, "Tough luck, Monsier."

Rick chuckles, "That was fast. Did she put her up to that, or did he?"

Jacques shrugs, giving Lockett another suspicious look. "There will be other baskets, no."

Matilda mutters to Thierry, "... shall we... to... tree,..."

Gertrude looks back inside the tent and withdraws another basket. She seems particularly pleased with this one and announces loudly, "Our first place winner from the recent cookoff, a valuable basket to be sure. Mrs. Rhodes."

Barron begins to roll another cigarette, finding somewhere to lean against, tilting his hat just so to keep the sunlight out of it.

Sarah laughs softly to Ty, "I suppose you won't be trying to gain the extra farmland now?"

Eugenia steps up to the front when she sees her plain, familiar basket. The thing is -loaded- with food. Enough to make it very heavy for someone not expecting it. The widow offers a slightly awkward smile to the crowd, a little worried they might start tossing things at her for her pretty dress.

The first to speak is the banker. He speaks aloud and clearly so there is not mistake that he has bid. "Two dollars." He glances at Rick and tosses the words back into his face, "A man's got to eat."

Ty shrugs with a smile for Sarah. "I have plenty of farmland already."

O'Dwyer snorts at something in the back, bringing out a pipe, that's been recently cleaned.

Thierry bobs his head in agreement and begins to steer Matilda towards a tree, seeking a good place to sit.

Jacques' eyes light up. That is right, she won first place. He bets her food is really good, eh? He raises his hand to call, "Two fifty!"

Barron calls from his lean, "Three fifty. A man's got an appetite to eat a horse." The cigarette flares into life.

Eugenia's basket, simple and made of pine, holds Roast Bear Sandwiches with Grilled Onions, Vine-ripened tomatoes, Lettuce, cucumber and onion salad dressed with vinegar and bacon, Fried summer squash, Corn on the Cob, Peach Cobbler, and Sweet Tea.

Eugenia darts a look that is almost a glare to the sheriff. "I didn't cook -horse-, Sheriff Barron," she calls in amusement. "It's bear."

Delaware counters quickly, "Four dollars."

Jacques licks his lips and looks at Barron. Her basket must be good but maybe it is not such a good idea to bid against the Sheriff if he is willing to pay so much money, eh? And there is the banker to consider too. He does not think he can outbid the man if he wants the basket. Jacques falls silent.

Barron replies, "Ah know it's bear, ma'am." A grin, he seems amused. "Five dollars."

Gertrude watches the bidding with interest, well now. This is going to be a pricey basket isn't it? She glances from Delaware to the Sheriff and raises a brow. "I have four dollars for the bear meat and the wi-woman to dine with." At Barron's bid she quickly amends. "Five dollars!"

Matilda reaches into the basket to take out the checkered tablecloth. She smiles to Thierry as she shakes it out. "And you will open the wine, oui? I do not know how good it will be, but I paid for it at the wine room."

Rick says, "Bear might be an interesting meal, and she's supposed to be a good cook, but they lost me a few dollars ago."

Delaware simply shakes his head, inwardly smiling to himself. Hope the sheriff enjoys the meal, now a dollar fifty poorer. Almost gratifying to stick him with the basket after his comment towards Delaware. He glances at Elise.

Eugenia straightens up as the bidding rises, cheeks pinkening a bit. She looks proud as she stands there, looking between the banker and the sheriff. Is that a hint of disappointment when the banker stops bidding?

Thierry smiles, "I'm sure it will be a fine vintage." He reaches in his pocket to bring out a pocketknife, though he pauses as he asks, "Do you have a corkscrew?"

Barron smiles indulgently at Delaware and tosses the man a bit of a salute, smoking his cigarette.

Elise casts an amused glance at the banker, folding her arms across her chest. The writer doesn't speak, however, arching one eyebrow at the man. A sound suspiciously close to a tsk escapes her.

Sarah waits for Ty to collect the basket, and points off towards an empty area, "Should we go sit down?"

Maybe in a hurry to get through all the baskets, Gertrude doesn't lingering, instead announcing, "Sold! To Sheriff Barron for five dollars." Several murmurs go up at the high price but there is a general amount of approval. It is after all for a good cause. Gertrude ducks in and withdraws another basket.

Ty picks up the basket and nods to Sarah. "That looks like a nice spot. After you."

Matilda says, "It is beneath the plates, I think? It used to be Papa's. I brought it with me from Quebec."

O'Dwyer mutters "The basket or the woman?" He lights his pipe with a twig from a fire. which, with all the cooking going on, hopefully is nearby?

Barron makes his way over to the tent, to carefully count out the coin and hand it over.

Eugenia hefts up her basket with both hands, eyeing Barron almost suspiciously. "How's your shoulder?" she mutters toward him as she waits for him to finish paying.

Thierry reaches for the corkscrew and manages to retrieve the cork rather expertly. He grins and offers the end of it to Matilda, "Would you like to sample the bouquet, my princess?"

"Elise Montgomery." Gertrude holds up one of the baskets that some might recognize as being brought by Matilda Moreau. She looks pleased, nodding to the Miss before stating. "Do I hear one dollar?"

Jacques holds up a hand to call out, "One dollar!"

Elise starts when she hears her name and she raises confused eyes to Gertrude, "I don't have a...." And suddenly the mischief behind Letitia's smile clicks into place. The spinster spins to face the Philadelphian, both hands placed firmly on her hips. "What did you do?" She does not look pleased, to put it mildly.

Matilda leans forward to sniff the cork, merrily laughing at Thierry. She wrinkles her nose in pretense of distaste and says, "That will do, I suppose."

Damien holds up his hands, palms out, shaking his head. He had nothing to do with it. Letitia is on her own with this one.

Rick looks startled, "What the... oh, hell with it. Two dollars!"

Letitia lifts her gloved hands, trying her darndest not to smile. "I thought you'd forget and you shouldn't miss out on the most fun part of the picnic..." She looks meaningfully between Rick and Delaware and winks at Elise.

Barron pays and smiles at Eugenia, "Just fine ma'am. A bit tight with the healin', but well.'

Elise's basket:

Eyelet edged cloth spills over the sides of a simple basket. Yellow ribbon has been wrapped about its handle and tied in a bow at the top.

Les Sandwiches de Fromage et Jambon et Champignon (Ham, Cheese and Mushroom Sandwiches): crusty sandwich rolls layered with ham, melty cheese, and mushrooms sauteed in white wine

Pate aux Patates (Potato Pie): a pie filled with mashed potatoes seasoned with onion, celery, parsley and chives. The top crust is golden brown and cut with fanciful shapes to vent the filling.

Sliced Tomatoes

Coffee

La Tarte de Sirop d'Erable (Maple Syrup Pie): much like pecan pie without the pecans

"TWO DOLLARS." It is clear, distinct and without hesitation. Delaware realizes he was a bit over loud and casts a glance at Elise. He seems amused that she has entered a basket.

From the back, a baritone voice calls out, "Three dollars!" It seems Hank Mathison is in on it, too.

Ah, the nice young miss who can't knit. Pleasant enough company even for Lockett. He bids as well, but not nearly as loud as Delaware. "Two-" Oh, damn, someone else has raised the stakes out of Lockett's realm.

O'Dwyer is definitely not on. Dollars for baskets.

Elise is not amused in the slightest. She looks like she might say something more, but she clamps her jaw shut. Well, there's no way to get out of this one gracefully, is there? Her eyes narrow on the other woman, though she tries her best to at least look pleasant. Surprise erases the irritation at the bids. Good God, is every man in this town daft?

Eugenia looks skeptically to the Sheriff. "All the same, I think I'll carry the basket for now. If it seems infected, you'll go see the doc, won't you?"

With a shrug Jacques calls, "Three twenty-five, eh?" He's going to buy someone's basket dammit.

Rick speaks up again, "Three seventy-five."

Gertrude looks downright plum pleased at the interest and parades the basket back and forth along the platform. She reiterates the latest bid, "Three seventy five."

Thierry laughs and reaches for the glasses, to pour out some of the vintage, "Would you like to sample it before hand?"

Hank says, "FOUR god-damn dollars!"

Barron smiles at Eugenia, "Sure thing, ma'am." he replies. He points, "Over there, away from the hustle and bustle?"

Hank winces at the looks he receives from angry people in his vicinity. "Scuse the language!"

Delaware is irritated at the interest, especially from Rick. At Hank's boisterous counter offer, Delaware's scowl grows darker. "Four fifty."

Jacques glances towards the back and then the banker bids again. He shrugs. She is pretty but he thinks her basket is not worth that much.

Matilda shakes her head to Thierry as she starts to take out the food. Pay no attention to the Chinese bowls and things. She's just borrowing them. Really.

Chance strides on in, to check out how this town celebrates this holiday.

Rick gives Letitia a cool look, "You set her up for this, *you* buy the basket."

Eugenia dips her chin in acknowledgement, so very formal. "Lead the way, Sheriff. Decided to try some of your kill, did you?" she asks with a bit of a smile.

Thierry arcs a brow to the dishes, but nods and pours out the wine for the pair of them. Then he glances around, to get an idea of whom is pairing off with whom.

Hank cups his big hands around his mouth and hollers, "Four fifty-five!"

Barron leads the way to an out of hte way corner and settles to a crouch. "Ain't had bear in a damn long time, ma'am. Too long."

Not to be outdone by the man in the back, Delaware hollers, "Five dollars." He glances at Elise and winks. He's planning on winning this one, even if Hank costs him a fortune. At Rick's comment he smiles, "What's the matter, man? Not willing to pay the price?"

Eugenia puts down the basket and starts taking things from it. First off is an old quilt to sit on. "I'll thank you to watch your language, Sheriff. This -is- a church yard, after all," she solemnly chides.

Chance tries to figure who's bidding on what, but so far, is at a loss.

Barron stifles a smile and sits down on the blanket once it's spread out, settling in. "Yes ma'am."

Rick turns his attention back to Delaware. "If you insist." In a louder voice, "Five fifty!"

Hank seems to consider his next bid, rubbing his hand along his jaw and then gives a dimpled grin. "SIX dollars!" Clysdon may be a banker, but Hank is a well-paid cowhand.

O'Dwyer puffs on his pipe, looking at the ridiculousness mount in ever increasing levels.

Gertrude look downright pleased, she is one of the few in town who has little reason to dislike Delaware, "Five do-" Oh, Mr. Porter chimes in, "Five fifty from Mr. Porter." She is just counting p the money, unable to keep up with the bids, "Six dollars from the back."

Letitia looks to Damien and tries not to laugh. Elise is already mad at her, but this is -so- much fun to watch!

Elise glances towards Delaware with a rather incredulous expression then towards Hank. She allows her hands to drop from their indignant position on her hips, moving to clasp them in their usual pose in front of her. The continuation of the bids cause the writer to shake her head slightly, vowing that the Philadelphian is going to pay for this is some grievous, horrible way. Well, maybe not so grievous and horrible, but she'll get revenge somehow!

Thierry raises a hand in greeting to Chance.

While Thierry watches the crowd, Matilda busies herself with filling the tin plates with food. She tears off a hunk of the bread and balances it on the edge of the man's plate, holding it toward him.

Delaware is bored with this. He glances back at Hank, sending him his best telepathic back off glare and then turns towards the stage, announcing for anyone who might give a damn, Rick included. "Ten dollars."

Eugenia takes out each dish and settles it atop the quilt. The tomatoes are still whole, but they rest in a pretty serving dish just waiting to be sliced.

O'Dwyer gives a low whistle from the back.

Damien shakes his head, not quite as amused as Letitia.

Barron glances over at the debacle and back at Eugenia, shaking his head. Quietly, not to carry he offers, "He really wants her bad."

Chance pipes up, "Is this money going to a charity or the church?"

Thierry takes the plate from Matilda as he smiles, "Thank you, mademoiselle."

O'Dwyer looks over to Chance. He mutters. "Is there a difference?"

Rick asks Elise, "Want me to bid again?"

Chance nods to Mr Marcel, and makes his way towards the man.

Hank just grins, his cocky grin. He hooks his thumbs in his belt and rocks back on his heels. "Well, now!" he calls toward the banker. "That's a generous price, Mr. Moneybags, but I paid more'n that for my last whore. TWENTY FIIIIIVE DOLLARS!"

Delaware says, "No." He doesn't wait for Elise to answer, answering Rick's inquiry. God damn, the cowpuncher isn't giving up."

Agatha overhears Chance's question and responds, "The money is for the town fund, to assist growth, development and prosperity." Yes, she's rehearsed this.

Chance gives the man that mutters to him a look, and shrugs, "It might, to some."

Damien looks over in Hank's direction with a grin. Apparently finally finding some amusement at the wildcard in the deck.

Sarah stops to stare at the current bidding, and asks Ty, incredulous, "Twenty-five dollars?"

Gertrude looks more than disgruntled at Hank's comparison of Elise to his last whore.

Letitia looks darkly at the back of Delaware's head, silently chanting, "Bid. Bid. Bid. Bid." in her head.

Chance shrugs at that bid, as he sure as heck isn't about to bet a months or so pay on a bloody basket, the women he's never even seen, as yet.

O'Dwyer says, "I'd trust the Church. Even the Protestant church, then some person who says he's goin' to be doin' good fer the folk who got it bad.""

Elise didn't want to be bid on in the first place, so she's hardly the reliable one to ask. Hank's bid causes her to grimace. She lets out a barely audible groan. The spinster is trying -very- hard to remain polite, but she's rather inclined to bolt. Letitia earns another glare. Gertrude isn't the only one disgruntled by Hank's comparison.

With wide eyes, Ty shakes his head at Sarah. They're all crazy in his opinion.

Thierry appears surprised by the amount the of money the basket is going for. He nudges Matilda gently, "My princess, did you hear that?" Even if it's being called Elise's, it's Matilda's technically.

Delaware looks thoughtful for a moment, inwardly seething at Hank's remark. He glances at Elise then leans over and murmurs to her. He mutters to Elise, "Allow me... kiss... feigned dismay... rescue..." 

Matilda grins at Thierry around a bite of the crusty bread she brought. "Do you think it is for her company or my sandwiches?" she giggles.

Chance looks to the man doing the talking, "Whose this man you speak of?"

Lockett wanders out of the immediate vicinity.

O'Dwyer says, "If the charity they're doin' this fer, isn' t of the Church, even your Church, then some man has to run it, yes? And if it's not a priest, then, I wouldn't trust him with /my/ money.""

Eugenia shakes her head as she listens and sets about peeling and slicing the tomatoes with practiced ease. "It's amazing. I wonder how high they'll go just to sit down with Miss Montgomery."

Thierry grins back at Matilda as he responds, "Well, it appears it might be her company, though I must say, princess. I'm glad that I have your food and your company."

Gertrude paces, rather surprised that no one has spoken aloud yet. Unlike Sarah's hasty closure, Gertrude lingers, waiting for someone to make an offer besides Hank. She announces, "I have twenty five dollars." Gulp. "Any one else?"

Rick isn't about to let that cowboy win, after what he said, "Twenty-seven fifty!"

Barron shrugs and settles into his spot. "Ah don't rightly know." he replies to Eugenia.

Letitia glares toward Rick, all but stamping her foot. He's lucky. She -almost- kicked him.

Elise glances towards Hank, her fists clenching and unclenching. She looks about to respond to Delaware, but Rick's bid distracts her and she looks towards the barber with wide eyes.

Chance turns away from the man talking all about church and what not at a town get-together. He must be a Deacon or something. Chance isn't one to listen to religion, much. Turning his attention back towards Thierry, he gives the man a nod. "Evening, Mr Marcel."

Hank's baritone drawls, "A meal with a good woman is worth far more than a fling with a saloon gal." He nods toward Elise, eyes twinkling. "I don't get to spend much time with good women, ma'am. Sometimes I forget my manners." That said, he calls out, "Thirty dollars!"

Not knowing what's worse, Delaware glares at the Barber and announces loudly, "Thirty five dollars." He glares around the crowd, his gaze promising the throttle a man who dares to bid higher.

Thierry nods to Chance, with a smile, "Greetings, Chance." He pauses, listening to the bidding as he shakes his head, "Amazing."

Matilda's grey eyes are getting wider and wider. She looks to Thierry, her companion, and then back toward the awe-inspiring bids. "All of this for a basket and time with a lady?" she asks Chance and Thierry in amazement.

Delaware looks to Elise again, she still owes him an answer.

Chance smiles, scratching his chin, "It is. Indeed."

Eugenia starts pushing food toward Barron, eyeing him wryly to see if he'll eat it slow enough to even taste it.

Sarah shakes her head, and continues on to a clear spot, where Ty can set down the basket.

Barron takes slow bites. This is unusual for the man. He takes slow, even bites and tastes the food, savors it even. "Now that's some fine bear." he notes.

Hank says, "Thirty-five dollars and fifty cents!"

Gertrude is all but ecstatic, this is going well. She is ready to close the bidding when Hank announces his bid. Expectantly, she looks to Delaware.

Delaware looks to Elise.

Elise glances towards Delaware as Hank bids again. Letitia's going to pay for this entire situation. A moment's hesitation before she inclines her head, looking away from the banker to fix her gaze on the crowd around her.

Hank calls to the banker, "I got fifty dollars in my pocket, friend. You wanna beat it?"

At the nod, Delaware needs no further encouragement. He turns, hearing Hanks announcement and bids aloud, "Sixty Dollars." And worth every damn penny.

At the sum that is easily three months pay for most of the cow punchers in attendance, Gertrude isn't inclined to wait any longer. She pauses only a moment before preparing her announcement.

Barron tells Eugenia quietly, "Hot damn, that banker does gotta pair on 'em. Ah'm surprised, ma'am. Ah gotta tell you that - these tomatoes are good."

Hank laughs out loud, pushing his hat onto the back of his head. "SOLD! Nice doin' business with ya, Bankerman," he drawls with a grin.

O'Dwyer looks like he's watching Nero fiddle.

When Hank backs down, Gertrude announces, "Sold! To Mr. Clysdon, for sixty dollars."

Eugenia looks sidelong at Barron and mutters, "I know he's got a pair. I grabbed 'em once." She offers that tidbit casually before buttering her ear of corn."

Elise looks absolutely stunned. Delaware finally did it, he managed to make the writer speechless. Her eyes shift back to the banker and she simply stares at him.

Rick looks at Elise, and says quietly, "I'm sorry."

Chance mutters to Thierry, "Bidding on a basket surely doesn't prove much. Let's see how he is at Faro."

Letitia looks rather triumphant when Delaware bids so handsomely. She grins toward Damien. It's all worth it. Even if Elise pulls out every strand of black hair on Lettie's head, it was worth it.

Barron shakes his head to Eugenia, and smiles. "You surprise me ma'am," he says back in a mutter. Butter goes over his corn, and he slides down to begin his work in earnest.

Hank doesn't seem in the least bit upset that he lost. He's still grinning his dimpled grin. "The school's gonna buy a lotta books with that money," he decides, folding his arms over his broad chest.

Thierry grins at Chance with a wink. He holds up a finger, "By the way, Chance, this is Mademoiselle Moreau. Mademoiselle, this is Mister Jameson."

Delaware glances at Elise then heads over to pay out his sixty dollars. He picks up the the basket and returns to her and leaning over to murmur. He mutters to Elise, "We... together tomorrow,... you have prepared .... will see to... matter as well.... Elise, you will not go back... your word..." He takes the basket and walks away from Elise, depositing it in front of Hank. "You get the food, but not the woman."

Hank says, "Well, thank ya kindly, Mr. Moneybags. I had a hankerin' for those sandwiches."

Matilda solemnly inclines her head to Chance with all of the regality of royalty. "Allo, Monsieur Jameson," she offers with a smile. "Monsieur Marcel purchased my basket, so now we are having a picnic."

Rick gives Letitia a cold, dark look as he waits for the next basket to be announced.

Eugenia pours herself some more sweet tea, watching Barron turn the ear of corn into a cob. "You might like some peach pie for dessert?" she asks him as she licks butter from her fingertips.

Chance smiles to Matilda, flexing in a small bow, "It's good to meet you ma'am. And please, call me Chance." He nods at her words, remembering something from the other night. "That seems an excellent pairing." He gives Thierry a private wink.

Elise flushes at Delaware's murmur, her only response a mute nod. She doesn't quite trust her voice at the moment, still rather dumbstruck by the last few minutes. The woman watches the banker give the basket to Hank and she gives a slight shake of her head. Daft. He must be utterly daft.

Barron finishes that corn and dabs at his mouth and fingers with the napkin, "If there's room ma'am, but ah'd sure like it. Been weeks since ah had a taste of peach pie."

Delaware hurries off towards church lawn.

Delaware has left.

Dora arrives, somewhat late. Those on the outskirts may have seen Dora's speed having been a rather athletic trot; here, now, she's more poised and quiet, as she approaches the ladies running the auction. Dora has a basket, over which a lace doiley has been thrown.

Ty sets down the basket shaking his head in wonderment. "I wish I had that kind of money to spend." Not that he'd spend it on anything as frivolous as a picnic basket.

Thierry glances towards where Chance disappeared, only then to catch a sight of the 'johnny-come-lately' Dora. His eyes might bulge slightly and grins. He raises a hand to Chance, rather imperatively.

Dumbstruck by Delaware's high bid, Gertrude retreats inside the tent, calling. "Agatha, you are going to be sorry you missed this!"

Hank's eyes follow Dora as she enters the church yard and he gives a long, low whistle.

Matilda sips white wine from a tin cup. She sits on a red-and-white checkered tablecloth with Thierry, dining on the food she prepared.

Chance looks to Thierry, "Sir?"

Eugenia says, "Are you going to try the wilted lettuce salad, Sheriff? The greens are good for you."

Gertrude walks off towards the food tent.

Agatha smiles keenly at Gertrude and pats the other lady on the shoulder, "Now now, dear. Now now. I'll do just fine." She's been itching to get in the driver's seat most of the night, and now -- power! With a smiling wave toward Letitia, Agatha waves the woman and her basket, front and center.

Thierry stands as he murmurs quietly to Chance.

Recalling what got her into this mess to start with, Elise turns dark eyes to Letitia. She folds her arms across her chest, "What did you think you were doing?" Now that she's out of it, she looks downright furious for perhaps the first time upon coming to Maddock.

Barron sets down his bear and leans over for the wilted lettuce dish. "Ah believe ah will ma'am. It's all been so good.'

As Ty spreads out the cloth, Sarah starts setting out the food. Lamb, of course, in a creamy sauce with potatoes and carrots, served over biscuits. And a strawberry pie for dessert.

Letitia makes her way through the crowd to retrieve her own prepared picnic. It looks much like the basket Elise supposedly brought, but it is decorated with blue ribbon rather than yellow. With uncharacteristic nervousness, the socialite smiles to the crowd and displays the basket. "In the spirit of the auction, I actually made everything myself," she laughs. "But please don't let that stop you from giving to such a good cause!"

The basket holds Chopped Ham Sandwiches - ham, chopped and seasoned with a bit of mustard and dill, Cucumber, Tomato, Green Pepper and Onion Salad marinated in vinegar, Baked Potatoes, Deviled Eggs, Bread and Butter Pickles (purchased from the trading post), Butter, Strawberry Shortcake, and Sweet Tea.

Ty smiles as he helps helps Sarah set out the food. "This all looks quite delicious."

For her part, Dora straightens and turns to study the crowd. Under the thin veil of lace that partially obscures her features, a slight smile, an amused smile, curves mildly reddened lips. Hank's whistle may have been heard, for the woman easily looks over the shorter ones near her, and glances in that direction. Poised and calm, Dora merely watches, as if she isn't about to participate in this at all, and she wasn't in a huge hurry to get here. Rather feline -- thank you for opening the door; I think I'll sit and wash now, in the fresh breeze.

Hank watches Dora with a lazy grin. He's got a basket of free food, but he doesn't have a woman to share it with, thanks to the banker.

O'Dwyer makes his way out, watching the madness and silliness combine in a vortex.

Agatha struts over to Letitia and peers down into the basket: "Oh goodness. To the lucky winner of this auction, gentleman, goes not only the esteemed company of Miss Letitia Taylor, /of/ the Ladies Auxillary Club," Agatha croons, for she's tickled to name even the gossip-worthy Letitia as one of their own, today, "But a great selection of sandwiches -- what type, Miss Taylor, "And pickles and..." Agatha roots around in there like a doctor checking a man for hernias, "And ooOOOOOooooh, Shortcake!" Apparently the woman has a sweet tooth.

Matilda softly sighs as Thierry stands and speaks to Chance. She takes the pudding from the basket and slowly shakes her head, muttering something to herself in French.

Rick calls out angrily, "Fifty cents."

Jacques shouts "One dollar!" Maybe he'll finally be able to buy something.

Damien glances over his shoulder. Did someone call his name?

Rick says, "Buck and a quarter."

Jacques says, "One fifty."

Thierry grins and winks at Chance, whatever he says, then sits back down to regard Matilda. He murmurs, "My princess, I am sorry for the distraction. Your footman will now pay the appropriate attention."

Eugenia laughs and almost chokes on her food when she hears Rick. Looking to the Sheriff, she leans to murmur something to him.

Eugenia mutters to Barron, "... he's..."

Sarah smiles at Ty, "I think you'll find it tastes good, too. Dan sampled a bit while I was cooking."

Agatha called out Miss Letitia Taylor, Mister Moreau, and Rick's answer rather startles the woman into raising her eyebrows and staring out over the crowd, "I hear a dolla-- I hear one-fifty, for Miss Taylor's basket. One fifty. Anyone for two dollars?"

Damien takes off his hat and looks at it. Is that a speck of dust? He brushes at it.

Rick says, "Buck seventy-five."

Jacques glances at the barber. Here is a man he need not worry about. What would he do, give Jacques a bad haircut? "Two dollars"

Letitia arches one dark eyebrow toward Rick. At first, she is irritated by his bidding, but then she finds herself smiling. In fact, she smiles rather sweetly to Rick at his miniscule bids.

Damien puts his hat back on, looking around disinterestedly.

Chance asks to whoever, "Is this the last basket up for bids, then?"

Agatha is determined to best Gertrude's bragging rights for the sixty-dollar basket. She looks over at Damien and calls out, rather loudly, "I have TWO DOLLARS. Anyone for three?" It's not working. "THREE DOLLARS?" Or the equivalent in whiskey, and the LAC would have a heck of a party.

Rick sighs, "Two fifty."

Eugenia grins sidelong to Jack Barron, loosening up a little now that she's laughed. She nibbles at a sandwich, though she's getting just a wee bit burned out on bear meat of late.

Whomever answers Chance, nodding to the taller woman still standing by the LAC table, and still holding a basket. "This one probably isn't the last."

Jacques grins, he smells victory and it is very much like ham sandwiches. "Three dollars!"

Letitia gives a violet-eyed look to Damien, but her face remains serene thus far. Thus far.

Barron chuckles at Eugenia and smiles, going back to devouring the salad in solid, man-sized gulps and mouthfuls.

"Three-fifty," comes Rick's automatic answer.

Jacques eyes Rick. These Americans, he suspects, they are all crazy but still he is very hungry. "Four."

Matilda studies Thierry and asks him, "Do you like the pomme de terre, my footman? And the ragout? Or do you not like rabbit?"

Alright. Now we're cooking. "Four and I see five coming from Mister Moreau, do I?" Or the Frenchman. Agatha includes him in the challenge, but will look as well at other notables in the crowd. Hank. Where'd O'Dwyer go?

Damien looks at Rick and Jacques. No miners here.

Thierry picks at his food, now that he's been reminded. Once he does however, he smiles widely. "My princess, this is too rich a meal for the likes of me."

Rick says, "Four fifty"

Shit. He's got a basket, but no girl, so Hank straightens up and considers bidding. He hooks his hands on his belt and stands protectively over that yellow-ribboned basket. "Five."

Maybe victory does not smell like ham sandwiches. Maybe it smells like the next basket. Jacques falls silent.

Rick says, "Five-fifty."

Damien looks at his pocket watch.

Matilda tries not to wilt, but she doesn't succeed. "You do not like it?" she asks Thierry. Her lower lip trembles just a wee bit. "What did I do wrong?" the girl asks earnestly of her 'footman'.

Hank's already made Rick mad once today and he might need a haircut soon, so he bows out. He grins a little, though, as he hauls up the basket he -did- get.

And Agatha has dreams of dollars in her eyes as she looks hopefully at Jacques, then more hopefully at Hank. "A big man like you can certainly eat two basket-worths of food, can't you, sir?" Agatha smiles at Letitia and then back at the crowd. "Six, for Miss Taylor's basket?"

By now, Letitia is looking pointedly at Damien. She doesn't care if Elise's basket takes the biggest bid. Violet eyes look to Rick a little assessingly. Is he still mad?

Damien gives Rick a sympathetic look before speaking up, "Ten dollars."

Rick calls out, "Ten fifty." Yes, he's still mad.

Thierry peers at Matilda, "No, no, no. It's good, very good indeed. I am enjoying it quite thoroughly."

Dora shifts slightly with her basket, her regard now sliding over the various and sundry notables in the crowd. Damien. Rick. Chance. Her eyes shift behind that veil, as she tries to catch the unspoken communication between the current bidders.

Damien says, "Twenty dollars."

Eugenia tops off Jack's cup of tea as she avidly watches the auction. "Thank the good Lord we get to dine in peace. Those poor people haven't eaten yet."

Here we go. Agatha really missed her calling -- or perhaps it was her calling -- on the slave block a few decades ago. She reaches to primp Letitia's hair a bit, "Twenty dollars. Do I hear thirty?" Given a mile....

Chance watches, and learns about this town just from the bidding.

Rick doesn't look at Damien. "Twenty-one."

Letitia turns to *look* at Agatha when the woman touches her hair. She chuckles, but then decides that she might need to worry about this little bidding war. "The shortcake didn't turn out so well," she admits with an apologetic smile. "One side of it fell."

Damien sighs. "Thirty," he calls to Agatha.

Barron nods, as he finishes the last of the salad and dabs at his mouth with the napkin. "Biddin' is fierce today."

Letitia's violet eyes widen. Now this is -really- uncalled for. She gives Damien a slightly worried look after he sighs and bids that amount.

Jacques shakes his head. Crazy. They are all crazy.

Dear /sweet/ Damien drives up the bidding. Perhaps the LAC can reconsider his current status as hellspawn bent on ruining the town square for all decent citizens. Agatha beams a smile at the saloon owner. For forty, she might wink at him. "Thirty dollars," Agatha carols out, "Thirty-five?" Rick...?

Rick pauses a moment, as if doing some quick math. "Thirty-one."

Chance smiles, as he knows his current boss can surely outbid about anyone present.

Damien gives Agatha a worried look. Lord knows what the woman will do if he goes higher but still he must. "Forty."

Matilda is now going to watch Thierry like a hawk as he eats, skepticism upon her face. "Would you like some more? The bread, I use Grandmere's recipe. She used to have a shop for baking."

There's the wink. A button might go, next, Damien. Brace yourself. Agatha rises on her tip-toes and jiggles somewhat out of excitement. Twenty more, and she can tie Gertrude, but even now, she's done well on the /first/ basket /she/ has auctioned. "Forty dollars! Forty-five dollars, for our Miss Taylor's basket?" Again, the look at Rick. For Forty-one, you can get a wink too, Rick. -- From Agatha.

"Really," Letitia quickly says toward the crowd. "I'm not the best cook. It's all very simple food... It's not worth this much."

Elise watches on quietly. Her expression is serious, which is odd enough for a woman who is rarely without a smile. She glances towards Rick then towards Damien, giving a slight shake of her head. People are losing their senses left and right today, aren't they?

Thierry smiles at Matilda, "I would indeed." He offers his plate as he says, "And more of the rabbit, please."

The sun hangs directly overhead in the afternoon sky, light clouds billowing around it.

Rick shakes his head.

Rick mutters to Damien, "... it... with... when..."

"Forty dollars? Forty dollars going once," Agatha is disappointed, but... But. She darts a 'shhhhh' at Letitia; whose side is the girl on anyway? "Forty going twice....?"

You asked for it, Thierry. Matilda happily spoons up more of the rich stew to the man's plate as her smile returns. Apparently, she thinks every man eats as much as Jacques.

Letitia begins to look relieved as Agatha begins to wrap up the bidding. She inwardly vows to pay poor Mr. D'aray back for his overgenerous payment on her basket.

Damien shakes his head. He mutters to Rick, "... rather... have... out... her... a chance... know... much... I..." 

Thierry grins and this generous helping. He doesn't seem perturbed by the amount, however. So he digs into the stew with enthusiasm.

"And /sold/ to Mister D'aray, for forty dollars. You two," Agatha turns to Letitia with a broad smile and a light tap-tap on Letitia's shoulder, "Have a lovely dinner, my dear." Louder: "And congratulations, Mister D'aray." Agatha claps, then, before turning to the next and last basket. She paces over, to confer with Dora.

Eugenia slowly shakes her head as she sits back in her blue and white gown and eats some fried squash. "And you only bid five dollars," she says to the Sheriff, drawl languid and teasing.

Rick mutters to Damien, "I'm... who needs... apology.... not... needs to give..."

Damien nods to Rick as he walks over to the table and pays for the basket before collecting it and Letitia.

Letitia politely smiles to Agatha, but she's keeping a worried eye upon Rick and Damien. She can hear enough of their words to be worried. As Damien comes over, she sighs out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Dora inclines her head to Agatha, nods and murmurs a few words back. There's a smile visible on the lower part of Dora's face as she shakes her head, murmurs those few words again. And Dora will lift the cover of her basket, showing what is within.

Sarah looks at Ty, perhaps a little confused, and asks, "Do you think they really wanted to win, or just to beat their opponent?"

Matilda's honeyed voice with its French accent inquires of Thierry, "Do you like blueberries, Monsieur Marcel? There are some on the bottom of the pudding. I will show you when I turn it out onto the plate, eh?"

[This is where my log ended, more to be posted as soon as I can get it from someone else.]