The Gang Rides In
December 31, 1873
 
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December 31st, 1873 [The Grey Horse Saloon] Wilona has an unusually bright smile on her face as she wanders down the stairs from her office, nodding to the few remaining patrons who didn't attend the posse. Miss Gem, for her part, is at the bar, flirting occasionally, but not with her normal Intent To Kill. She glances up and smiles. "Hello, Miss Wilona." Wilona moves up to the bar, taking a seat on the patron side and motioning to Louey for her usual. Her smile extends to Miss Gem, "Good Evening Miss Gem." Miss Gem grins. "You're looking pleased with yourself...?" Wilona does indeed, doesn't she. She offers a secret smile before sipping from her glass, "Is everything working well for you here, Gem?" Miss Gem laughs, glancing around. "Oh, yes. I'm enjoying my work." Gem always does. "I hope the house is showing some profit." Wilona smiles, "Oh yes, well..." She glances around at the empty room. "Leastwise till last night we were." Even the drop in business cannot seem to dampen her mood. Miss Gem chuckles softly. "Business will pick up again. Why're you in such a good mood?" Wilona admits with a sparkle in her eye, "John came by last night." John Reardon hasn't set foot in the saloon for three months. Miss Gem's eyebrows rise. "Really? I haven't seen Mr. Reardon in several months. What was the occasion?" Wilona shrugs girlishly, "Came to see me I suppose." She takes another sip of her whiskey. "Maybe he will even come by again tonight." Maggie rushes in. _Cold_. Cally moves over from outside. Richard strides over from outside. Miss Gem grins at Wilona. "I hope so!" As people come in, she smiles again. "You see? It's picking up, just as I said." Richard comes into the saloon, blowing into his hands. Cold cold cold. Stupid blizzard... Picking up? Heck yeah! Maggie brushes snow off her coat, fussily, and heads right for the fire. Cold. Coldcoldcold. Cally glances around at the people in the saloon, as she brushes the snow off her shoulders. She spies Maggie and heads over to join her at the fireplace. Miss Gem trills out, "*Maggie*!" Richard brushes snow off his cloak and heads for the bar. Warm up from the inside. "Whiskey, please." Yes, please. Maggie stops dead on the way to the fireplace. Eep. Er. She looks cautiously over her shoulder, at Miss Gem. "Hello..." Reardon hurries over from the door in the back of the saloon. Wilona sips her whiskey, apparently her night off since she is sitting on the patron side of the bar. Miss Gem, happily, gets up to run and offer Maggie a *nice* *warm* hug. "How *are* you?" Cally nearly bumps into Maggie as she doesn't quite realize the other woman has stopped, too busy fumbling with her gloves. She moves around Maggie then and continues towards the fireplace. Reardon comes in through the kitchen, honestly, doffing his hat as he moves into public. Maggie tries to step out of the hug, but she's not at her fastest. Too snow-encumbered. "Um...fine. Just..fine." Help? Richard takes his whiskey from Louey and drinks it quickly. Oh, that's nice. And warm. A quick look at Gem and Maggie. That's an odd pair... Miss Gem laughs. "Excellent. My dear, you're looking a little chilled. Would you like a nice warm drink?" Wilona glances up as Reardon arrives, her wide smile casting on Gem before she nods to Reardon, "Evening John." Miss Gem tosses a grin Wilona's way, in return. Look! He's here! And, in deference to The Boss, Gem won't flirt with him. Maggie stammers, "Um...I was going to have tea." As if to make it Very Clear that it wasn't Miss Gem's idea, see. "Tea! On a night like tonight? Don't be silly. You need something a little more bracing. Louey, can't you make Maggie here a nice hot toddy? *Thank* you." Gem happily offers to help Maggie to a seat, murmuring to her. Cally gives a curious glance at Maggie and Miss Gem as she rubs her hands together by the fire. Miss Gem's hand sneaks around Maggie's waist for a moment as she speaks. She mutters to Maggie, "... girl,... lonely. Do... and let me... you." Maggie says, "I..um..." What's in a hot toddy? That mystery slows the protests until it's too late. Then she jumps, and blinks at Miss Gem, seemingly shocked at something-or-other. Richard orders another whiskey. That first one is finally having a little effect. While he waits for his whiskey, he looks at Maggie again, giving her a little nod. Hm. Huh? Reardon is entirely bundled, tonight. He'd gotten used to the too-warm winter, and the snow's caught him rather off guard. Still, he's in good spirits. Gloves are removed, as he smiles back. "Wilona." He also nods politely to the other patrons, a smile, though curious, at Maggie. [Maddock Entrance] Pete looks south towards the town. "Don't look all that big. Maybe we won't have to worry about trouble." He wouldn't even mind trouble to get rid of the bone cold chill. Chester nods. He steps behind, impatient but unwilling to lead. Let's _go_. Cletus switches hands. Now the left one's on the reins, and the right one's under his left arm. "Brrrrrrrrrrrrr." Josh follows Pete's gaze and remarks sullenly, "It'd be worth the trouble just to be WARM. Come on.. what're we waiting for?" Redhorse looks toward the town then at Pete. He doesn't say a word, just breathes slowly at the teeming society the town represents. Redhorse nudges his horse forwards towards the settlement. Pete looks at the others then lets out a small curse, "Cletus, stay close to me." You walk towards the inner part of town. In the road by the gates, Bartles pushes his hat up some, to scratch at his forehead. "Long's they got food," he agrees, with a glance past Chester as he says that. Pete pulls his horse to a stop in front of the saloon. Music and loud voices drift outwards from the building. A swift glance to see Cletus is nearby and Pete is climbing onto the saloon porch. They saunter towards the saloon. [The Grey Horse Saloon] Pete strolls over from outside. Chester strolls over from outside. Cally blinks as she stares at the other two women. Goodness gracious. For a moment she almost forgets how cold her hands are. Redhorse hurries over from outside. Bartles walks over from outside. Cletus walks over from outside. Josh saunters over from outside. Chester walks in, knocking the snow from his boots and taking in the room. Well, not the room. The tables. The food on them. Food. Yes. Whiskey and honey are in a hot toddy, maybe something else. Gem forgets. "There, Maggie, are you all settled? And here's your drink." A hot toddy, on command. Wilona glances at Maggie and Miss Gem before frowning towards the huddle of strangers who stroll in the door. Redhorse takes off his large coat, hanging it on the coat rack, snow drifting all over the floor. Maggie nods a nod to Reardon in response to his smile, and hesitantly takes the toddy. "Um..thank you." A bit of a blink at all those entering, but she doesn't really notice. Cletus comes in behind everyone else, rubbing his hands together. "Yeah yeah nice and warm..." Pete keeps his duster on but does remove his hat to slap it along the worn canvas before the snow melts. Glancing once to his left then to his right he visibly relaxes and addresses his companions. "Looks like we made a good choice." Reardon doesn't frown at the crowd. He arches both eyebrows, though. Miss Gem, once Maggie's All Settled, notices the sudden influx of Men. *Men*! Imagine this is said like that female gremlin in Gremlins II says it. Which one to look over? Her lips purse as she studies each man carefully. Richard takes his new whiskey and looks over the new crowd. Hmmm.... He sips that whsikey. Trying to keep warm. Madeline strides over from outside. Maggie looks doubtfully at the toddy, and sniffs it. Warm, anyway.... Bartles stamps his feet, more snow on the floor inside here, as opposed to the porch outside. His eyes rove over the bar, the tables, the patrons, pausing here and there and there as his glance crosses over one of the pretty young ladies. Josh nods to Pete, glancing around. At least it's warm in here. And crowded too. Josh eyes the other patrons warily. He draws his gloves off and shoves them into his coat pockets. The remainder of clientel are nothing but aged miners. A fairly poor lot of Saloon patrons tonight. The miners offer only a casual glance to the group before returning to their cards. Madeline stepss inside the saloon, on the heels of this crowd of men. Bundled in what is no doubt Jaime's coat, she makes quiet excuse mes, and does her best to get around them. Toward the bar. She won't be long. Pete moves to block Madeline's escape to the bar, stepping before her. Cally blinks a bit at the sudden influx of men at the door. Then peers curiously at them. They don't look familiar. Must be miners. She gives a slight wave to Madeline then turns her gaze back to the fireplace. Maggie nods to Madeline, then blinks at Pete. Mm? Wilona slowly stands up from the stool she was lighted upon and moves closer to Reardon. Her earlier smile of pleasure still firmly in place. Miss Gem's dark eyebrows draw down a moment, as she watches Pete. Richard cocks an eyebrow at Pete. That's..... Chester takes in what's on the tables as he makes his way toward the bar, declaring "Whiskey and stew." To start. He glances once at Madeline. Then again when Pete moves. Redhorse takes a few steps inward with the rest of the newcomers, his spurs clinking on the wooden floor. In the light, you can tell his skin is different from the others. Cut off from the bar? Maddie, eyes on the sudden appearance of chest, looks up at Pete, instead, and smiles her winning Madeline MacClaine (Quintan, really) smile. It's a doozy. "Can I help you, sir?" Maggie absently takes a sip of the drink, then blinks down at it. Pete peers down at Madeline for a moment, till he notices the ring on her finger. Darn it and tarnation. He sighs, instead offering an almost gentlemanly tip of his hat. "Pardon me, Ma'am." His tone unfortunately, borders on sarcasm. Josh doesn't linger long by the door, once he's made his initial summary of the clientele. He notices Richard's apparent interest in Pete and responds with an even glare as he moves over towards the bar. Reardon leans down to speak a quiet word or two with Wilona. He mutters to Wilona, "... Has the stage... all?" Maybe they're stop overs, due to the snow. {You sense Reardon leans down to speak a quiet word or two with Wilona. "I don't believe I've seen this group before? Has the stage been running, at all?" Maybe they're stop overs, due to the snow.} Janson moves over from outside. Miss Gem bends to drop an impetuous kiss to Maggie's cheek, and murmurs, "Later, dear," before straightening to make a forray towards the Large Group of Men. *Men*. Gem, mind you, Expects To Be Noticed. Gem Trotters is *not* a woman to be missed. Wilona shakes her head towards Reardon, She mutters to Reardon, "... Must... time... any sane... to be out riding though." Reardon senses "Wilona shakes her head towards Reardon, "Last I heard the stage was closed. Must be they came in on horses. Helluva time for any sane man to be out riding though."" Bartles tips his hat back to scratch at his forehead, some more snow sliding off the rim and onto the floor even as he moves toward the bar. Along the route he works in the time to give Cally (wedding ring? where?) his most charming smile as he passes her. Cletus heads for the bar, like everyone else. A quick giggle (yes, _giggle_) as he reaches the bar. Choices... His wide eyes go over everytihng behind the bar. Bottles, Louey, the people in the mirror, everything. Maggie jumps at the kiss, and looks after Miss Gem with indignant amazement. What was _that_? Madeline continues to smile. "It's all right. I must not have been looking to where I was going." She'll just go around you again, if you don't mind, Pete? As she goes, she shucks off Jaime's coat, and lays it down on the stool that she chooses to sit on. "Good evening, Wilona." Janson strolls in, and walks up to the bar. Chester is by that bar. Whiskey. Stew. Stew. Whiskey. He oozes impatience. Josh glances sidelong at Cletus. Giggles? Then shakes his head in disbelief. He orders a whiskey and something warm to eat. Stew maybe, if they have it. Josh isn't choosy as long as it's warm. Wilona nods to Madeline, stil hovering close to Reardon. "Evening Madeline." She keeps her voice low, obviously unsure of this group of newcomers. "Is Jaime one among the posse?" Reardon straightens up again. "Well. Maybe they've lost their way. I imagine it's easy to get turned around. Let them warm up." Richard returns Josh's even look before his eyes roam the room. Hey, Gem. Mmm. Lot of men, all at once like this... Redhorse glances about. He hasn't seen this many people in a very long time. He seems almost nervous, or perhaps like a fish out of water. Louey realizes he has his work cut out for him, pouring Whiskey upon request. However, he takes a little too much pleasure in informing Chester. "No Stew Tonight." Chester picks up his whiskey, frowning. No stew? "What else is there?" Cally raises her eyebrows at Bartles' smile, reminded of why she doesn't make it a habit to come into the saloon. She looks a bit warily at the newest customers, and slides her gloves back on. Maybe it would be better to go. Redhorse sits down at the same table as Cletus is at, without saying a word. He looks up at Louey, waiting to see his answer to Cletus' question. Pete notices Miss Gem, oh BOY does he notice her, and suddenly he isn't even concerned about his initial mistaken identity. Closing the distance to the woman, he doesn't even wait for formalities, intending fully to pull that warm body into an embrace for a kiss. "I'm home, honey." "Gentlemen," Gem purrs. "So many of you bold men. All part of the posse?" It's amazing how one woman can make eight men think she's talking .specifically. to /him/. If that makes sense. Cletus's face falls, almost comically, at the news of no stew. Gotta eat _something_... Plenty to drink, though, and girls... Miss Gem plants a hand against Pete's chest, and beams up at him. "Not without a price, my dear. Nothing without price." Again, Louey leers back at the group. "No Food Tonight." Not for you men, nope. He smiles. Maggie leans sideways, digging in the bookbag by her chair. She doesn't look happy at whatever the digging tells her. Bartles frowns some at the update on dinner, but trusts Chester to remedy this situation soon enough. He starts sauntering over toward Cally before she gets to follow through too much on her plans to leave. "Evening, ma'am," he says, a tip of his hat, perfectly polite. There's that smile again, too, just a touch shy of absolute sincerity. Madeline shakes her head, lowering her voice as well. "He wanted to go," she begins. "You know, to keep up his reputation as an indian-killer." That said with a smile. Remember that little fiasco? "But he decided it'd be in Maddock's best interest to have him here." Pete digs for the coin that will keep the woman in his half-embrace happy till other words register in his head. He grows deadly still, "Posse?" Redhorse looks at Cletus. "They _have_ to have food." Cletus looks around. Someone else in this building had got to have food on the table..... Chester looks at Louey. Looks Down at Louey. "I'm sure that you can find something." Reasonable. Utterly reasonable. Miss Gem lifts her finely shaped chin. Obviously .not. with the posse, then. "A trifle," she purrs, "obviously nothing that a handsome man like yourself would have to deal with." Richard puts down his empty whiskey glass and waves for a beer. No hurry. Josh glares at Louey, his best intimidating look, and keeps his mouth shut as Chester tries to reason with the barkeeper. Maggie leans her elbows on the table, with a quick glance at Cally and Bartles. This really doesn't...maybe Cally had the best idea. She digs in that bag again, for gloves. Louey shrugs, finding food isn't his job. He gazes over the worn clothing quite sure he's playing with fire and just enjoying it too much to give a damn. "I imagine I could, if I was in the mood to try. There's a restaurant on the other side of town." Janson decides to take action on behalf of the slighter man. "Now, There's no reason to..." he begins, but is cut off by the looks of the rest of the men. Redhorse stands up, decidely annoyed, not to mention hungry. Cletus leaves the bar to roam the room. Stew stew stew... hey. Look, stew. "Whazzis, barkeep?!" He swipes a bowl of stew from a hapless miner. No hap here. Cally stops short as Bartles interposes himself between her and the door, looking a bit startled. "Umm.. hello.." she says politely, with a nod to punctuate the greeting. And then tries to sidestep to get around him as she finishes putting on her gloves. Wilona opts not to comment on the Indian-Killer statement, instead slipping behind the bar to offer Madeline and Reardon a drink since Louey is otherwise occupied. "They shouldn't be gone long." A trite consolation. Chester is still the soul of reason. "It's cold out there. Try. Please." Chester frowns at Cletus. He got food first? Wrong. He stole some... Madeline asks, "Brandy, Wilona? If you have it? I don't need a drink, but Jaime's out and he'll complain of the cold, eventually." Cletus went and got food, and that miner's not pleased. Cletus holds up the bowl, in plain view. "Barkeep!" Yeah, you! The miner is not amused. Josh continues to glare at Louey. "Well we aint *at* the restaurant, we're here. And I'm sure you've got something to serve." A glance at one of the miners with food. So much for reasonable. Palmer hurries over from outside. Louey looks across the room at the one who 'giggles' (can you believe that.) Again, he shrugs, "Last bowl we had." The miner grumbles loudly, reaching to take his stew back from Cletus. Maggie glances at the door, and blinks, forgetting her departure for a moment as she nods to Palmer. Bartles takes a small step or two, ostensibly moving around so the one chair isn't poking him in the back, and purely by coincidence (no doubt) positions himself between her and the door. "Cold weather out there," he says, conversationally, a nod toward the front door. Obviously, he's expecting a response to this polite bit of small talk. Redhorse pushes the upset miner down in his chair before he gets too annoying with Cletus. "Shut up," he says simply to the miner. Janson looks at the impatient dinner guests, and then turns to Louey. "Can you serve me a glass of whiskey, then." Chester nods. Voice soft, "Then what else do you have?" Stew means kitchen. Kitchen means food. Or, maybe this was a bad idea. Maddie actually turns around, to look at the men clamoring for food. Cletus frowns. "All gone?" He looks down at the bowl. Gone, huh? Well, this isn't gone. He reaches around and swipes the spoon from the miner's hand. Louey is only too happy to snub these men even more. Hell, strangers on and all of them. He serves Janson. Wilona offers Madeline a bottle of Brandy, "How are you planning to ship this up to him, Madeline?" The growing noise surround Louey begs her attention. Redhorse snorts impatiently, looks at Cletus. "If they won't bring it to us, we'll have to get it from the Kitchen." Chester grunts. Or it's more of a growl. Good idea. He heads for the kitchen. Redhorse joins Chester, striding purposefully in that direction. Pete releases Miss Gem altogether, hunger taking over for other more base needs. "Yer right, Redhorse, let's have us a gander." Palmer slips quietly into the saloon, just as so many months before he slipped quietly out of Maddock. For the last time. Or so he swore to himself. Just another promise in a long line of broken-promises. He comes to a pause just inside the door, scanning the room for familiar faces. Not many of those here. The he catches Maggie's nod and quickly returns it with a soft one of his own. He wanders in her general direction, offering a greeting. "Ah, the lovely hotel keeper." Ok, he's a little out of it as far as happening. "It has been too long." Richard gets his beer, in his own time. Hmm, uh-oh... Kitchen? Pete hurries off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. Ah, no. Reardon is all for letting polite men warm up in the saloon, but just rummaging through the saloon? Wilona's saloon? He heads for the kitchen as well, clearing his throat. "Gentlemen..?" Josh glances over at Cletus and the fractious miner. Then back to Louey at the bar. He seems to be about ready to explode, judging from the angry look on his face. He straightens, as everyone seems to be heading towards the kitchen. Chester walks through the door, disregarding any protests. Redhorse strides off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. Wilona blink, blinks as the men disappear into the Kitchen. Maggie smiles at Palmer, a bit nervously, though not really nervous of _him_. "Hello...I'm not a hotel keeper any longer. How're you?" Miss Gem presses her lips together, frowning. A quick glance towards Maggie, and she asks, just loud enough for the woman to hear her, "Kyle's not in town, is he." Cletus takes his bowl of hijacked stew to the bar, then raps the bar with his knuckles. "Beer!" Chester walks off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. Reardon frowns a touch. Well now. He follows. Reardon moves off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. [In The Kitchen] Redhorse starts going through the cabinets and such. Chester hurries over from the main room of the saloon. Redhorse says "That barkeep's lyin' to us." Reardon strides over from the main room of the saloon. Pete is in the cold storage already, pulling blocks of cheese and cold meat from within. "I struck gold Boys." Reardon follows, yes he does. And tries this throat clearing again. "_Gentlemen._ Might I be of some assistance?" Redhorse says "Give me some of that, Pete."" Chester grins and gets himself a kitchen knife, with a silent glance at Reardon. No, he's not threatening Reardon. He's threatening one of those blocks of cheese. He starts in on it, without answering. Pete does the talking. Redhorse looks over at Reardon. "He said, no food. Here is some food." Pete continues to raid the cold storage, answering the voice behind him, "Sure could help, got any bread?" Redhorse receives some cheese, cutting it with his large bowie knife. Redhorse opens a cabinet. "Potatoes." Chester looks toward Redhorse. Potatoes are no good cold. "They have a cook." Or they wouldn't have stew. Stands to reason. Redhorse glances over, "We can have a right good stew. Use the stove. We have meat. We have potatoes." Reardon smiles, calmly enough. "No food that's been prepared, gentlemen. You asked for stew, and there isn't any, as you can clearly see. Now, if you want a meal, you are welcome to pay for these supplies. Or, the restaurant just across town should be able to serve you. We certainly won't turn hungry men away. You're looking for Selby, perhaps?" Redhorse munches on the cheese. His hunger makes it taste good. Pete pauses in his emptying of the cold storage to back out and look in the direction of the mysetery voice, "What makes you think we are looking for Selby?" He inquires slowly. Chester glances at Pete, as he slices. Conversational. "We don't often get visitors in Maddock, this time of year. Selby has the rail, you see. And with the new snow, it would be easy to get turned around on horseback." (Reardon) Pete takes a piece of the cheese from where it was cut and pops a bit into his mouth. "We ain't looking for Selby." And I'll be damned if you think I'll tell you more then that. Mmm-hmmm. Chester munches a chunk of cheese, and just happens to walk closer to Reardon. He's on the way to Pete. See? Redhorse says nothing, still eating the cheese. The meat is cold, too cold. Darn it. Reardon ahhs and nods. "Well. Let me be the first to welcome you to Maddock, then. Shall I have Louey start a tab for you gentlemen?" Someone will pay for the food. Wilona's food. Redhorse says "Tell Louey to start cooking the stew." Redhorse throws the meat on the counter, roughly, cookingware flying in many directions, making a large noise. Pete looks amused. "A tab? Oh by all means you do that. For me and all my boys." Chester nods. "We came here for hot food." Redhorse says "We came here for hot. Period." Redhorse looks over at Reardon. "You're wasting time. Tell the liar to come here and get working." Reardon frowns at Redhorse's tossing skillets and whatnot around. "I may be able to find someone to make you a meal, _gentlemen_," he emphasizes again. "However.. _However_," he calls over Redhorse. "There are some basic rules to be followed. Even for hungry men." [The Grey Horse Saloon] Cally frowns slightly as Bartles moves again to be in her way. "Yes.. it is." Which is why she came in here in the first place. A decision Cally is beginning to regret. Oh dear.. she look over worriedly at the influx of people into the kitchen. Maggie glances to Miss Gem and shakes her head, slightly. No... Miss Gem mouths, "Damn," and nods at Maggie. Madeline, a bit confused, really, turns back toward Wilona. "Ship it up to who?" There's no reason to be nervous about Palmer. Nope, none at all. Not innocent Palmer. *ahem*. He nods in understanding at her comment. Thing change with time. Most definitely. "I see. I cannot offer complaint as to my current state." He is alive afterall. And apparantly well. "And you? How have the fates treated you?" Hrm, does he even know her name? He's always called her 'hotel keeper' or something of the sort. Wilona pauses outside the kitchen door then retreats. Reardon can take care of himself. She turns, looking at the others in the room. "To Jaime, Maddie, you mentioned the brandy and him being cold." Richard hmms into his beer and eases over toward Bartles. "Um, excuse me?" Louey serves Cletus his bearm, as long as he is paying, he'll keep serving. Miss Gem glances at Wilona, and at the kitchen door, then back at Wilona, eyebrows crinkled. Is it going to be all right? those eyebrows ask, or should I see if I can find some backup? Paying? Cletus hasn't paid for a thing. That's Pete's job, if Pete feels like it. Cletus takes the beer, though, with no complaint, as he snarfles stew. Bartles is keeping a peripheral watch on the process of food acquisition, though the majority of his attention is, for now, drawn on the lovely young lady that is Cally. "Though it is a prime spot here by the fire you've picked out for this evening," he comments. So far, he's managed to avoid noticing Richard's arrival, just as he avoids noticing the wedding band hidden now under Cally's gloves. Maggie nods. "Fine, just fine...everything's well. I've got a daughter." Babbling on. Nice social conversation. Madeline ohs, and smiles. "I was thinking I might just carry it home, and leave it on his desk. Sort of a surprise?" She lowers her voice again. "Are you all right?" Janson looks none too happy about the thought of several angry men loose in a kitchen... He cracks his knuckles. Richard raises his brows and looks at Cally for confirmation. May I? Josh glances at the kitchen door briefly, then turns his attention to Richard and Bartles, watching the scene warily. Wilona looks between Miss Gem and Madeline, "No. I'm not all right, John is liable to get himself shot." With a sudden resolve she goes behind the bar and lo and behold returns with a heavy shotgun she can barely keep horizontal. Sally hurries over from outside. Maggie blinks at Wilona. Shotgun? "Um..." But the protest isn't loud enough for Wilona to hear. It's just for herself. Sally steps around the man blocking the door and slips in to the saloon. Janson springs to his feet, and takes off his hat closing the distance to Wilona. "Can I be of any assistance?" Madeline blinks, and _does_ protest. "Wilona!" She reaches out to put a hand on the shotgun barrel. "Put that away," she hisses. Cally looks uncertainly between Bartles and Richard as he approaches. She takes a step back away from Bartles and motions towards the fireplace, "Well it is quite warm over there I'm sure you.." whatever it was Cally was going to say is lost as she blinks at Wilona and her shotgun. Palmer blinks, actually quite surprised at hearing this. He recalls meeting her as a mere child herself, and now she has a daughter to call her own. Palmer suddenly feels as if he's aged a decade in a matter of minutes. But his words and actions do not betray those feelings. "A daughter? Undoubtedly every bit as lovely as you." Her and that backwards Sheriff had something going, did they not. At Maggie's words, he aims a glance over to the bar, eyebrow rising just a fraction. "I do believe that such a weapon is rather inappropriate." Cletus is totally ignorant of the shotgun. Right now, his world consists of a beer, a rapidly disappearing bowl of stew, and a little bit of bar. Shotgun! You go, Wilona! Gem nods firmly at her employer, and leans over to give a miner an expanse of bosom. "Excuse me," she purrs, "but do you happen to have a pistol on you?" Assuming the miner does, she relieves him of it, for the price of a kiss, and then turns back towards Wilona, expression firm. Backup. Maggie would smile at the compliment, but she entirely missed it, what with the shotgun. She remembers those gloves, and starts to put them on. [Janson's desc] This man is large. No other word describes it right. He stands almost 6'3" tall, and looks to weigh a good 200-220 pounds. And even worse: None of it looks like fat... He moves with slow grace, and usually takes his time thinking things over. He has a reddish skin tone, and very blue eyes. His hair is a dark blond tone, reminiscent of bronze. He looks you over with a friendly smile. He is wearing a heavy wool duster, and under this you can see a checked shirt in red and blue. A heavy leather belt is strapped around his waist, holding up a pair of canvas trousers. He has a quite new stetson-type hat on his head He seems to be in a good mood, and has a happy smile about his lips. Wilona looks at Janson, oh boy if he ain't a big one, no? "You got a gun on you?" Richard's eyes go to the shotgun, too, like all the other eyes in the saloon. Uh-oh. Trouble. His right hand stays in view, though, with it's beer mug. His left, on the other hand.... Josh steps over towards Wilona, "I'd listen to your friend there and put that thing away," he indicates Madeline with a nod of his head, then gives Janson a glare as the fellow approaches. "You don't want to go starting no trouble, now." Palmer turns his attention back to Maggie, and finds curiousity ruling the day. "What is the cause of this commotion?" Palmer has a nasty habit of walking in at the worst times imaginable. Sally sizes up the situation and discreetly backs into the shadows against the wall. Madeline looks over at Gem then, and frowns faintly. All right. If it's going to go this way.. Maddie frowns faintly. "Wilona... please." Janson nods, drawing back the duster to reveal a holster for a LARGE gun. The gun must fit the man. "I do. .45 Colt, special ammunition." He speaks with a heavy norwegian accent. Miss Gem makes her way around the bar to stand by Wilona, a fierce grin on her face. The lady doesn't *look* like the sort who'd know how to shoot. "Are we going in or not?" she demands. Maggie says "It..um...some men came in, and when they didn't get anything to eat, they barged into the kitchen." Wilona turns, eyeing Josh now. She doesn't threaten him with the gun, it lays limp in her hands. "Seems to me the trouble has already started, you going to get your friends out of my kitchen?" Bartles's attention follows Cally's, briefly, as he darts a glance toward the bar's main attraction this evening. "This is some hospitality, I tell you," he comments to Cally, that politeness in his tone slipping a notch. "Fellow comes in for a little drink, a little food, and now this." He's more alert now, a step or two shy of eager. Here's the chaos he loves so much just brewing. Cletus finishes his commandeered stew. "Yeah yeah good stew." And he finishes his beer, spilling some down his face in the process. "Haha!" Clonk goes the empty mug on the bar. "Hey, Pete!" Blink blink. "Pete?" Where'd everybody go? Janson unbuttons the flap of the holster. Indeed, the butt of a Colt military does peek out from below. Louey watches Cletus, a look of disgust on his face. A man out put this one out of his misery. Palmer nods slightly, his glancing flashing quickly to the kitchen door. "Ah, I do understand. A case of trespassing and possible theft. That will not do. It simply will not do." Of course, what could this simple, unassuming chap do about something that just will not do? To noone in particular, he asks, "Why is it that I find it impossible to take a mere drink in peace?" Maggie blinks at Cletus' voice (she almost forgot he was with them), then looks up at Palmer and shrugs, uncertainly. Miss Gem, just to see if Cletus is really that dumb, says, "They left." She gestures with the pistol towards the front door. Farissa saunters over from outside. Farissa actually arrives from upstairs. Josh frowns at the sudden appearance of all these guns and then eyes Wilona. Finally he turns his head towards the kitchen and calls out, "Hey Pete! Y'all best get out here, afore our little lady-friends decide to come in after with their guns blazin'." His voice drips with sarcasm, and he smiles, though it comes off as more of a sneer. Cletus looks around. Oh, hey, noise from the kitchen. Must be Pete. Huh? "Hey, where'd a pretty lady like you get a gun?" Sure enough, he reaches for it. Janson sends Josh a look that would melt a hole through a 4" steel plate. Cally just nods at Bartles. Sure, yeah, whatever, and begins to move more purposefully towards the door, moving around Bartles. Guns.. trouble. Mac is the deputy, Cally finds it safer to be elsewhere in times like these. Palmer curls his lips in distaste at Josh's words. After a glance at the fingernails on his right hand, he comments offhandedly to Maggie, "Why is it that this charming hamlet is so successful in attracting such a high quotent of heathen types?" Palmer has a standard, you see. And anything less would just be *uh* uncivilized. Miss Gem, remarkably professionally, cocks the hammer of the pistol, lifting it and pointing the muzzle at Cletus' forehead. "Trust me," she says, "I can pull this trigger faster than you can grab the gun. Reconsider, my friend." There's steel in the usually purring voice. Maggie says, "I..um..." She trails off at Miss Gem and Cletus and the gun. Oh, no... Josh chuckles softly, glaring right back at Janson and Wilona. His hand sidles down to rest near his holster. Cletus blinks at Gem's gun. "Now why'd you wanna do _that_? Did I do something to you?" He sounds like a twelve-year-old. 'Oh, _Moooooommmmmmm_....' Maggie stands, pushing her hair back. Swallowing. Sally watches the scene edge closer and closer to gunplay, quietly from the shadows. Janson smiles, a smile that is not too pleasant. Ha, he got what was coming to him! "My dear, you've done nothing. I'd prefer to not have to shoot you. You've had your stew. Why don't you sit down, and Louey will get you a beer." Won't you Louey. Gem doesn't take her eyes off Cletus, though. Pete strides over from the door in the back of the saloon. Chester strolls over from the door in the back of the saloon. Madeline says, coolly, "I think it would be best if we all just put the guns away." [Back In The Kitchen] Muffled through the door, Josh yells, ""Hey Pete! Y'all best get out here, afore our little lady-friends decide to come in after with their guns blazin'." His voice drips with sarcasm, and he smiles, though it comes off as more of a sneer. Redhorse says "I'm not much for..." Redhorse 's voice trails off. Redhorse pushes past Reardon. "Out of my way." Chester puts the knife down and frowns at the door. Redhorse walks off towards the front room of the saloon. Redhorse strolls over from the main room of the saloon. Redhorse says "Pete, Chester, they've got Josh - a shotgun on 'im!" Pete starts laughing. "Think Redhorse is scaired of a few ladies blazing guns.." He trails off as Redhorse returns. Redhorse doesn't have a gun on him. He left his rifle outside. Chester moves toward the door, if no one tries to stop him. Pete tries to push past them all to get back into the saloon. Reardon is jostled aside in the push toward the door. [The Saloon] Redhorse strides over from the door in the back of the saloon. Redhorse comes in after Pete and Chester. Josh seems to decide that enough is enough, and moves over towards Miss Gem and Cletus. "I would strongly suggest, ma'am, that you put that gun away before you go and get yerself hurt," he drawls, his voice low. Palmer nods approval at Miss Gem's actions. There is a way to deal with said 'heathen types' and obviously she's learned that way. Quite well, in fact. Palmer takes the opportunity to reach into his breast pocket and pull out a ...small silver box. Nothing like a cigarette to go with a good show. And not to be rude, he holds the now open box out toward Maggie, "Can I interest you in a smoke. Only the finest tobacco from Virginia, I will assure you." All that's needed now is some popcorn and everything would be just perfect. Pete storms out of the kitchen like a blaze was set to his assend. He scans the room quickly, ignoring the woman with the limp shot gun, writing her off as no threat. Miss Gem on the other hand. Miss Gem has a pistol trained on his brother. His gun is in his hand instantly, aimed with her in sight. "I'd advise against that miss." His voice is dark. Janson nods curtly. "Should we go clean up the kitchen?" "I assure you," and now Gem's back to purring, "that I'm far, *far* more likely to harm one of your cohorts than myself," she tells Josh, and, still without taking her eyes off Cletus, says to Pete, "I'd be delighted to. Persuade him, would you, to sit down and have a beer? Louey's fetching him one." Chester has a hand on one pistol, but as always, he waits for Pete to set the policy. Well, that would seem to be a decision. He draws, but as yet aims at no one. Cletus frowns at Gem. "You don't like me..." See that scar? Cletus's head has done the bullet thing before. Made him the man he is today... Reardon strolls over from the door in the back of the saloon. Maggie blinks at Palmer, as he offers something, but she doesn't quite hear. Guns. Lots of guns... Richard still has the one obvious hand. And the one hidden hand. He watches. Wilona is standing with an threatening shotgun in a very unthreatening way. (its drooping towards the floor.) She stares agape at Pete and Miss Gem. Janson draws his gun, slowly. "Now, let's put these guns where they won't hurt people. Unless we want them hurt." Cally doesn't get far towards the door before her attention is drawn back towards the spectacle at the bar. Richard counts people. One, two, three, lotsa. Not good. Reardon returns from the kitchen some paces behind the 'visiting' men. Spotting Wilona, and the shotgun, he breathes a curse, and starts for the bar. Casually, you see? With no weapons in his hands. Just.. toward the bar. Pete follows Miss Gem's suggestion, "Cletus, go have a beer." He commands. Josh doesn't take his eyes off Miss Gem as he moves a step to the side, to give Pete a clear shot if needs be. He glances between Cletus and Pete, as if considering what to do. His hand still rests near his holster, but the weapon isn't drawn. Not yet. Cletus sags a little, half disappointed, half relieved, half obedient. "Yeah, beer." He turns, as if Gem and her gun are out of town. "Beertender!" Wilona is so relieved that Reardon is ok, she start towards him, the shotgun waivering left and right catching a few innocent people within its sights. Sally edges back, deeper under the stairs. Chester's eyes seek out Pete as his pistol slowly goes away. Bartles tips his hat back, scratching at his forehead and trailing just a step or two behind the lovely Miss Cally. There are those two pistols strapped to his side, but they're not going anyway. Least ways, not yet. Pete waits till Cletus has stepped away from Miss Gem and starts lowering his gun, "Now you do the same little lady, I got other plans for you tonight then putting a hole in yer head." Janson nods, relieved. He puts back his artillery-like gun, but doesn't button the holster. Who knows what might happen. Miss Gem eases off on the trigger, arms folding to bring the weapon in closer to her body. This is the sort of pose you see in comic books: Beautiful Lady With Big Gun. She's still a trifle wary, but not about to shoot anyone. Palmer doesn't seem to be concerned with the growing gun collection in the room. Not at all, in fact. Taking Maggie's silence to mean 'no', he shrugs, and pulls out a cigarette of his own, firing it up with a lighter that he's pulled from his right front pants pocket. After return the cigarette implements to their proper home, he takes a few drags as he watches the events unfold. "It's been quite some time since I've been privy to observe such a fascinating show. Romeo and Juliet was the last, in fact. About six months ago in San Francisco, as I recall." Maggie swallows, and starts to reach for her coat. She blinks rather stupidly at Palmer as it slides off the chair. "Romeo and..." No, that's not what Pete and Gem remind her of, not at all. Or wasn't that what he was saying? No interference? Reardon meets Wilona, and the Dread Wavering Shotgun, reaching with one arm toward her, and with the other, for the weapon. To take it out of harm's way, or to keep himself from being accidentally shot. It all depends on how you see things. He murmurs, quickly, to her, keeping an eye on the standoff, and keeping her back to the men. Reardon mutters to Wilona, "I think... that... up... of... acquaintances you... and... outside,... back way." {Reardon whispers "I think it's time that you gathered up whichever of your acquaintances you wished, and stepped outside, for a breath of air. Out the back way."} Josh casts his glance warily around at the other patrons, as if challenging anyone else to cause trouble. Pete lowers his weapon completely, placing it back in the holster before stepping closer to Miss Gem, "You should return that gun back to its rightful owner." Redhorse says, in a concerned sort of way. "Nobody is making our stew." Yeah, beer. Slurp. Mmm. Cletus works on his beer. Hmm. all these people... Stew? Yeah, food. Right on cue, he heads toward another saloon patron. Nope, that one got smart and wolfed down his stew. Hmm... Cally lets out a sigh of relief as the gunplay seems to have been averted, at least for the time being, and tugs her gloves a bit tighter. In preparation to leave again, no doubt. Chester looks at Redhorse. He's right. Sensible man. So he turns to Louey. "We'll all have some stew." And, reasonably, "Please." Janson grins. All that trouble for no use... "Whiskey, please." He can take another drink, now that the trouble's over (at least, largely.) Trouble? Richard's not trouble. Not his job to make trouble and get noticed. Sally relaxes a little, but keeps a wary eye on the men. Wilona shakes her head vehemently, She mutters to Reardon, "... leave... think... Besides, do you... suppose... going... They... even... Law is..." She waves to Louey, "Louey, perhaps we should put some more stew on the stove." {Reardon senses "Wilona shakes her head vehemently, "And leave the saloon?? I think not! Besides, do you really suppose these men are just going to take lightly to a mass exodus? They don't even know the Law is not in town." She waves to Louey, "Louey, perhaps we should put some more stew on the stove.""} Redhorse sits down as well. "Yes Louey, maybe you should, especially after telling us there was /none/." He grimaces sarcastically. Palmer would never cause trouble. Nope. Uh uh. Never. He's just enjoying a nice cigarette, and blowing a ring or three of smoke into the air. Hmmm, that kinda makes it look like he's got a halo hovering about his head. See, no trouble at all. Another question for Maggie, "Will I find that the whiskey here is as ...interesting..." For lack of a better word. "...as ever?" Madeline speaks up again, now. "Wilona?" Wilona? Pay attention, Wilona. "Is there enough to make stew, in the kitchens, for these men?" There's that Perfect Smile again. "I'll make stew, if there's enough to make stew for all of these fine men." It'll get her away from guns. Cletus keeps walking around the room, looking at stew bowls. These people all ate their stew! Cally raises an eyebrow at Madeline as she catches her comment. Fine men. Yeah.. right. Wilona glances at Reardon and his earlier plea, then nods to Madeline. "Yes, I believe there is. I'll help you." Chester offers Wilona his first smile of the night. Sensible woman. Then he looks at Madeline. Well, look at her. And she can cook? Miss Gem crosses away from the bar to return the gun to the afore-mentioned Rightful Owner, and then her eyes fix on Palmer. You, Palmer, are going to Rescue Me from Pete. Aren't you? She gives him her very best coquettish smile. Maggie says "Um..." Coat still hanging from one hand. "It's....I don't think it's changed. Was ther something special about it?" Perfect. Madeline climbs to her feet, and leaves Jaime's coat sitting there on the stool. "Gem? Would you come and help? Please?" She doesn't linger. She heads for the kitchen. Yes, she can cook, Chester. Imagine that. Bartles makes a little move, like he might step in again before Miss Cally has a chance to make good on her exit, but then he hears that word: stew. Chester must be doing his job after all. He gives one of the chairs a kick, moving it out of the way, and moves back toward the bar once again. Miss Gem? *Cook*? Gem can't cook. Gem can't boil water. She looks after Madeline in alarm. Food having been taken care of.. guns firmly back into place... only thing left is a woman. He glances at Gem and considers the temper the woman has. He scans the room for another suitable choice. Richard watches with interest. Just another man in black, here in the saloon... Come help cook anyway, Gem. Chester has a Thought. That happens sometimes. He mutters to Pete. He mutters to Pete, "You... to... trouble?" You sense Chester has a Thought. That happens sometimes. He mutters to Pete. "You think they're leaving to cause trouble?" Madeline strides off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. Sally takes a deep breath, and makes her way across the room towards the bar. Miss Gem looks faintly annoyed, and follows Madeline. Palmer certainly doesn't look the knight in shining armor here. Doesn't even look to be armed, in fact. Of course, appearances *can* be deceiving. Sometimes. He aims a glance toward Maggie at her question, eyebrow quirked a hint. "Special? I suppose that would depend on the definition you place on said word." Uh right. Of course, Palmer has always had a particular talent for not quite answering questions that are put forth. Then his attention drifts back to Gem, for a brief moment as she leaves. Miss Gem strides off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. Cally seems a bit relieved as Bartles is distracted by the stew. Thank heavens. Then glances about. Where did Maggie go, did she leave yet? Maggie remembers that coat, and starts slowly putting it on. Cletus finishes his beer, spilling some, again. Pffaff. They _all_ ate their stew. "Where's that stew, beerkeep?" Maggie nods to Palmer. "Well, I think...I think it hasn't changed..." Fumbling with an arm of the coat. Pete looks at Chester and nods, He mutters to Chester, "... and... sure... backdoor." His gaze is elsewhere, a moving target within the room. Chester senses "Pete looks at Chester and nods, "Maybe you should go on in there and make sure none are trying to make a hasty retreat out the backdoor." His gaze is elsewhere, a moving target within the room." Josh watches quietly as the ladies head off to cook the stew. "About time," he mumbles, then glances at the barkeeper. "Whiskey," he states simply. A command, more than an order. Chester grunts, dissatisfied, and moves toward the kitchen. Louey shrugs, "In the kitchen, gettin' made." Above on the balcony, Lira strolls over from the west hallway. Palmer glances back to Maggie as the object of his attention seems to have disappeared. To cook, of all things. Ever the polite one, he reaches out to assist Maggie with that uncooperative coat. "If you will allow me...." Sally reaches the bar, and fumbles in her purse. She retrieves a coin, and slides it across, asking in a soft voice for a whiskey, please. Richard's left hand returns from the depths, and he eases back over toward the bar, putting down his empty mug. Quietly. Maggie nods awkwardly, "Thank you..." Pushing her hair back, out of the coat. Farissa has disconnected. Cally's gaze falls on Maggie and she watches her friend while hovering nearby the doorway. Apparently waiting. Better to not walk home alone, Cally thinks, for either of them. Chester saunters off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. [The Saloon Kitchen] Madeline saunters over from the main room of the saloon. Wilona is attempting to clean up the mess left behind. She is visibly shaking. Miss Gem hurries over from the main room of the saloon. Miss Gem comes through the door and, promptly, says, "I can't boil water. What do you want me here for, hon? There's that lovely fellow out there who's talking to Maggie..." Madeline appears, and waits, hopefully, for Gem. When she arrives, as well, Maddie lets out a tiny sigh. "Then. Sheriff Kyle is out of town and.." She gives Miss Gem a _look_, and quirks an eyebrow at her. "For one moment, Gem," she purrs then, "try to forget your profession, and realize that you could do us all a favor and help." All right? "Sheriff Kyle is out of town," she repeats. "That leaves the deputies." "Mac," Gem says in One Of Those Tones. Wilona rolls her eyes at Gem's offer. "What about that Marshal. O'Mally was it? Where is he?" Chester moves over from the main room of the saloon. Wilona gasps as Chester enters, her cheeks flushing red as she stands in a huddle with the other women. No stew is on the stove, yet. Madeline says, "_That_ is precisely what we have to find out, ladies. Where _is_.." she begins, and whirls around, to look Chester right in the face. She smiles, perfectly, again, and continues, "the cheese. A good stew needs cheese, doesn't it?" Over she goes, then, to pick up a tossed skillet. Wilona follows on Madeline's skirts, lifting the giant stew pot to the stove and checking the fire within it. Mmm-hmmm. No cooking in progress? Not good. At least they're still here. Cheese in stew? Chester's never cooked, what does he know? Nope, he doesn't say a word, just looks them over. Miss Gem, who really .can't. cook, looks Chester up and down. "Can I ... do something ... for you?" Madeline is not the best cook. Maggie would have been much better, but, with any luck, Maggie's gone. "Gem," she bites out then, and smiles again. "Find some.. onions? Please?" Chester nods. Onions are good. That sounds more like stew. He looks down at Miss Gen, thoughtfully. But Chester has his priorities, and he takes them in order. Food first. Then whiskey. Then women. "No." Nothing she can do. Wilona glances at the man before setting to carving the meat for searing. Why is they always grow these intimidating types so big. She mutters to Madeline, "... with... over us." Madeline senses "Wilona glances at the man before setting to carving the meat for searing. Why is they always grow these intimidating types so big. "We can't do anything with him watching over us."" Miss Gem smiles, one of those smiles designed to make men weak in the knees. "Then perhaps you'll step out of the way. You know how women are about their kitchens. I assure you, the stew is on the way." She turns in a whirl of skirts to get an onion, which she waves under Chester's nose. "It'll be splendid, but we .do. need a few minutes, at least." Chester studies that smile, and then backs away from the onion. Hey. "I'll watch." He'll get his share first, that way. Madeline steps up behind Gem, and rests her hands on the other woman's shoulders. "Tsk. Nonsense, Mr... what was your name? If you stay, you'll put on an apron and chop vegetables. Carrots and potatoes." Maddie means no nonsense. "It's your decision. Leave and drink with your friends," she offers, smiling That Smile, "or stay and cook with the women." Miss Gem, with the hand not holding the onion, traces a finger along her neckline, to cleavage. "How about," she says, in a compromise, "I make you an extra-big bowl, and bring it straight out to you, especially. I'd think a man of your size would appreciate the extra ... service." Are we getting through here, Chester? Double-barrel, she turns a brilliant smile on him as well. "Your reputation will be /made/." Wilona half-smiles, liking Madeline's resolve on the matter. She even sets to placing a back of potatoes and a carving knife on the table for their unwanted friend. Chester raises both eyebrows at Madeline. Well, she's....well, look at that. Gem, that is. He even smiles again, slightly. But there's too much talking in here. "I'll look back in." He goes back to the saloon. They're cooking. That's what's important. Chester moves off towards the front room of the saloon. Miss Gem lets out an explosive breath. Wilona sinks down to the bench in a sudden rush of relief. Madeline does the same, hands slipping of Gem's shoulders. "_Someone_ needs to go and find that marshal. Or _someone_." Miss Gem puts a hand to her forehead. "I'd get Miguel, personally. Only Tess would likely shoot me. Isn't there .any. law around here? Where's Transom?" Wilona shakes her head, unsure of anything. "Is there much good it will do anyway? Aside from spilling blood on the floor. And who's to say whose blood it will be. Maybe they'll be gone by morning." Her eyes brighten with an idea. Madeline blinks. "By morning? In the meantime, we chop and make them stew? And then what?" Miss Gem's voice is hard. "Yes, and tonight they'll brutalize your girls. I'd rather see them gone .now.!" Madeline taps her fingers against her lips. "Evan.. and Jaime. Transom and.. well, even Mac." Wilona looks suprised, "I thought Jaime was with the Posse?" She starts hunting through the cabinents for something, "There's always Karl." Madeline blinks back at Wilona. "No.. he's here in town. He was just out for a walk, and I meant to surpri.." Another blink. "Karl. And Christopher." Wilona nods, not quite believing she would ever consider calling on that lot for help. Finding the spice she had in mind she squeals with delight and hands the poswered curry to Madeline. Miss Gem hangs back, away from the stove, faintly worried that something might explode if she goes too near. "Evan. Or is he with the posse?" Madeline blinks at the spice in her hands. "Mm.. thank you, Wilona." The look Maddie directs at Gem is quite clear: Has Wilona gone bye bye, Gem? Maddie sniffs at the spice in her hands, curious, gets a snootful of curry, and sneezes. Miss Gem doesn't know curry from applesauce, so she misses the significance of the spice. "Bless you!" she offers, surprised. "Did that red stuff make you sneeze?" Madeline sneezes again, and her eyes begin to water. Oh dear. *Achoo!* *sniff* *achoo!* "Evan's.. he *achoo*.. rode out to *achoo!*" Wilona sighs at Madeline's reaction, "Good Heaven's don't do that again." She indicates the stew, "Half the bottle in the least. God Bless You!" [The Saloon] Pete moves behind Sally, his hand coming down on the bartop to cover the coin she offers Louey. "You can put it on my tab." Bartles fills in a stretch of bar next to Sally, aiming to be one of the first ones in line soon's that stew get fixed. "Ma'am," he says, polite and distracted. And hungry. Palmer nods as he tosses his now-finished cigarette to the ground and stomps the remaining life out of it. "You are most welcome." He's a helpful guy, this Palmer. Once in a while, at least. "If you require assistance in arriving at your home, I shall be available." Pete returns the coin to Sally, offering it open palmed to her. Maggie nods. "I...thank you." She tucks her hands into her coat and looks around, uncertain. Cletus wanders back to the bar, clonking his mug. "Beer beer beer." Now now now. Sally cradles her shot in both hands, and takes a delicate sip. The involuntary flinch is followed by a somewhat longer sip, and she sets the glass on the bar. Sally looks up at Pete questioningly. Redhorse taps his fingers on the table. "I'm starving." Cally takes a few hesitant steps over towards where Maggie has now succeeded in putting on her coat. She offers Palmer a polite nod and then greets them both, "Hi.." her expression is worried, as she glances over at the bar out of the corner of her eye. Janson thumps Cletus' mug into the table with a hand the size of a small shovel. "Stop that, please." Maggie flickers a quick smile at Cally. "Hello..." She jumps and blinks at Janson. Was that wise? Richard just sort of stands around. Palmer aims a glance over to the bar. The whiskey can wait. Odd that he was actually looking forward to a decent quantity of the vile liquid. Of course, it does have the redeeming quality of mumbing the mind. And it does that quite well. As Cally approaches, his attention drifts back to matter at hand, and he nods slightly in her direction. "I greet you." Sally reaches out and takes the coin from Pete's palm, mouthing a small "Thank you" as she does so. Pete offers Sally a winning smile. "Name's Pete." Cletus looks up at Janson. "What's your problem, buddy?" First the girl, and now you. Josh turns his glare to Janson. Another troublemaker, eh? Janson looks at Cletus with a weary look. "Noise. He won't show any faster with you pounding the table." "I'm Sally." Sally says, feeling a flush on her cheeks, probably from the whiskey. Pete glances over towards Cletus at the sound of his question, his look apparant. No one better be messing with his brother. Cally asks Maggie quietly.. "Were you going home?" Bartles flips his own coin onto the counter. "I'll have what the lady's drinking," he says, to an already overly tasked barkeep. He's giving Sally a few little looks, and Pete a passingly dark one, though just for a moment. Maybe his brother'll distract his... Bartles senses "Pete grins." What is it with people and their noises? And Cletus always gets blamed. Everybody everybody everybody. "I'm tired of you, and I'm tired of all your damn noise!" A beer mug makes a poor club, but he swings it anyway. Maggie says, softly, "I don't..." Oh. Fight. Maggie glances quickly to Palmer, as if he could Fix it. Pete answers Sally distractedly, completely unawares of Bartles look. "Damned fine to meet you, Miss Sally." And then he's gone. Leaving her there in Bartles no doubt capable hands. "Cletus, damn you, what are you doing?" The hand that swings the mug is stopped in midair, as Janson moves with quite untypical speed to intercept it. Also, he dodges at the same time. No harm done. "I suggest you put that thing down. I don't want a fight. Mark my words. Neither do you. Get it?" Richard straightens in his cloak. Fight. That hand goes away again, and his eyes get sharp. Josh blinks, Oh great. "Cletus!" the name spat as if it were a curse. He moves with Pete over towards the source of the trouble, glancing around at the other patrons in case they get any ideas. Sally looks after Pete with some surprise, and watches the confrontation. Slowly, she brings the shot around, and takes a careful sip. Cally winces a bit as trouble is started yet again and then glances at Maggie, "I think we should go..." Don't you? Cally's gaze is questioning. Pete doesn't draw his gun, but have no doubts it could be out in a heartbeat. His voice drips with the threat he feels, "And I suggest you let go of my brother, Mister." Cletus's face scrunches up, looking at his restrained arm. To Janson, "If you don't want a fight, then you get the hell away. It's a big enough place." Come over here and give me noise about noise. Who do you think you are, my brother? There are many things that Palmer could fix....if desire so motivated him to make an effort at doing so. And in this case, it does not. If the assembled heathen-type masses choose to beat one another to death, it will merely be a victory for the Darwinist theory of 'Survival of the Fittest.' Of course, Palmer's motivations and desires are subject to change if the right stimulus presents itself. He turns his gaze back to Maggie, waiting to see her reply to Cally's question. Chester saunters over from the door in the back of the saloon. Janson lets go of cletus hand, having brought it back down to the table. "I'm leaving. I don't want to inadvertently kill someone." Grunt. Fellow's an idiot. Anyway... Janson strolls off towards the porch. Redhorse follows Janson with his eyes, watching him leave. Bartles pauses just long enough to claim his whiskey, having to practically hop across the bar and serve himself. He's well aware of the trouble brewing, and does what any honorable man would under the circumstances. "Ma'am," he says smoothly, to Sally, "perhaps the bar is a bit rowdy this evening. Shall we take a seat at one of the tables?" Protector of women, and opportunist at heart, he moves to place a hand on Sally's arm as if to guide her to such an aforementioned table. Maggie says, "That...would probably be best." Suddenly, hurriedly, buttoning her coat. Josh smirks a bit at Janson's departure. Wise fellow. He goes back to his whiskey. Cletus grunts back, making sure to make noise. People. "Where's that beer?" Clonk again on the bar. Noise? You want noise? Pete growls, "Stop the noise, Cletus, or I'll take the damn mug away." Redhorse says "I'm getting a headache, and I ain't even drunk yet."" Palmer keeps his attention on maggie, waiting to see if his earlier-offered assistance will be accepted. Chester emerges from the kitchen, having reassured himself that they're Cooking. Eyes vague. Redhorse says "They cookin', Chester?" Sally looks at Bartles, about to protest, then with a glance back at the brothers, she nods in agreement. Cally nods in relief to Maggie, "I'll head back with you then.. if that's okay?" Safety in numbers and all that. Maggie nods. "Um..." She looks at Palmer to see if said offer is still open. She's never _quite_ sure what Palmer's saying. Cletus takes his beer and nods a little to Pete. "Sure, sure, sure..." I'm no trouble. You know that, right, bro? Richard's hands return to view, and he cracks a couple of knuckles. It's just a little edgy in here. Someone should know about this. But after the posse, who's left? Bartles picks out a comfortably sized table, that being one with room for himself and Sally and none more, and with a hand lightly on the lady's arm maneuver her away from Pete. He even has the manners to slide out a chair for her, and practice that smile of his a little more. "Ma'am," he says politely. Cally looks between Maggie and Palmer briefly, then with a worried glance as if unsure what might happen next, she glances around at the rest of the saloon. Seeing Cletus appropriately quieted, Pete turns to the group that looks like they have designs on leaving. "Evening Folks" Sally gives Bartles a smile, and slips into the proffered chair with practiced grace. She sets her drink on the table and settles her skirts. Maggie blinks at Pete. Um.... Cally blinks. Evening folks? Evening folks?? Somehow this greeting strikes Cally as odd, coming from a man who associates with THIS lot. She just stares mutely at Pete for a moment before glancing back to Maggie and Palmer. Chester makes his way behind the bar, brushing past Louey if necessary. _Asking_ for whiskey seems so inefficient, now that things have warmed up. Palmer has disconnected. The offer is still quite open. Especially now that the show seems to be at intermission. And just to make things clear, Palmer asks, "Do you wish me to accompany you?" Louey holds up a hand towards Chester, then passes him a bottle, "Take it and go. This side of the bar is for me." My territory, back off. Richard is over somewhere around the outbound folks. He looks at Maggie and Cally. Law Enforcement Wives. Josh sips his whiskey and looks around for one of the other available ladies. Gem seems to have departed. Where IS their stew, anyway.. he glares in the general direction of the kitchen. Maggie nods to Palmer. "That'd be nice..." Of course, Pete's right here. Maggie's doing her best to pretend that he's really talking to someone else. Bartles is his most charming self, which all in all is better than some could manage. While he makes polite conversation with the young lady he surreptitiously checks her hand for a wedding band. "Awful lot of pretty young ladies by themselves this evening," he notes. Cally looks from Maggie to Palmer, nodding slightly. "Thank you." Pete digs into his pocket for a cigarette still keeping and eye on Maddie and Cally, "Must say its a mighty interesting crew that keeps company in this saloon." He gazes around, "So many women, and no husbands." He glances at Palmer, "Or are you all Mormons?" Chester frowns slightly at Louey, but it is what he wanted. He shrugs and retreats with the bottle. Maggie lifts her chin slightly. "It's a small town." Whatever that means. Redhorse looks over at Josh. "Its takin' an awful long time for that stew. Say we find out what's happening." Palmer doesn't have a problem with Law Enforcement. As long as they leave him alone, all is well. And he certainly doesn't have a problem with Law Enforcement wives. One can't fault them for making a wrong decision. On marriage, that is. Palmer aims an odd glance at Pete, but doesn't respond. He can't recall the last time someone mistook him for a religious person. Probably because such has never happened. He merely shrugs and looks back to Maggie, "I am prepared when you are." Cally glances over at Pete, half-tempted to ignore him, but then blinks at Maggie's comment. What does that mean, Maggie. She adds quietly, "And no, we're not Mormons." Just so that's perfectly clear. Well, at least she's not. Richard goes over a list in his head, trying to remember who _is_ in town. Badge-wise, that is. Sally is seemlingly appropriately flattered as she talk softly with Bartles. She finally remembers to slip her glasses off her nose and tuck them onto her bag. Nervously she sips her whisky, quickly it's gone. Josh nods to Redhorse. "Yeah.. it can't take THAT long to make stew. Come on..." Maggie nods to Palmer, and takes a step or two toward the door, fumbling with her coat buttons. Josh stands up. Redhorse gets up. Pete nods slowly, considering the answers. "A small town, with a lot of women. Don't rightly see much of that in the west." He looks Cally over intensely, "Maybe me an the boys foudn paradise." Cletus decides he'd rather sit at a table than stand at the bar. He makes his way over to an occupied table. "Git," he says to the occupants. Oddly enough, they git. Cally seems to blanche a bit under Pete's scrutiny and then moves over with Maggie towards the door, leaving his comment go without response. Oh dear. Redhorse moves over to the kitchen door. Josh follows Redhorse towards the kitchen, glancing around. Palmer halts in his tracks. Hmmm, looks like act two is just about to begin. Defintely don't want to miss act two. To the two he says, "Perhaps it would be wise for me to remain here. I suggest the two of you spend time at the Sheriff's office before heading home. I shall visit there shortly." Redhorse walks off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. [The Kitchen] Redhorse moves over from the main room of the saloon. Redhorse strides in, Josh closely behind. "Where's the stew?" Miss Gem repeats a startled, "Bless you!" for each sneeze, starting to look fascinated by about the fourth. How long will this go on? "Evan's gone?" This may be said with a trifle of disappointment, if either woman is the sort to notice. She chuckles at Redhorse. "We're working on it, darlin'. Don't you men ever cook? Food doesn't appear in a minute or two!" Madeline is, Redhorse, in the process of sneezing her fool head off. *Achoo!* "I didn't mean to do it at all," she announces, not noticing Redhorse's entrance through a haze of water in her eyes. She does, however, dump the contents of the bottle -- the whole thing -- on top of the meat. And then she claps a hand over her mouth, muttering "Oh no," *achoo* behind her hand. Redhorse looks at the turned on stove, and the chopped up meat. "I've made stew. Rabbit stew. I've eaten quicker, too." He blinks at the curry. Josh walks over from the main room of the saloon. Wilona's eyes widen as large as saucers when she notices Redhorse and what Madeline just did. Oh Dear. Catching a whiff of the lingering dust she adds her own sneeze to the situation before hastily explaining to Redhorse, "Meat Tenderizer." Josh follows Redhorse back into the kitchen, looking none to happy. "How the hell long does it TAKE to make some stew?" he demands of the assembled ladies. Lingering dust? Josh frowns slightly as he seems to have missed something. Miss Gem, for once, barges into the cooking, and rapidly stirs the sauce in, managing to not inhale too deeply. "It's almost done, gentlemen. We'll serve it in less than five minutes, if you'll return to the saloon." Madeline blinks, squeezing water from her eyes, and turns to spot Redhorse, and now Josh too? *Achoo!* She wipes at her eyes, with curry still on her hands. Well, that didn't help. Now her eyes are really watering, and *achoo* she's still sneezing. "It was an old *achoo* cow. It needed tenderizing. I need to wash my h*achoo* hands." Redhorse wrinkles his nose at the dust. "Don't you know what you're doing?" He softens at the promise of five minutes. "Fine. Five minutes." Redhorse turns around. He looks at Josh. "Five minutes." he says. It has an awful finality. Wilona helps Miss Gem, encouraging her to keep stirring while grabbing cut vegetables to toss into the mix. Miss Gem stirs vigorously. "Five minutes," she promises again. Redhorse goes back to the saloon. Just before he goes through he looks back. "Five." Redhorse strolls off towards the front room of the saloon. [The Saloon] Maggie blinks at Palmer, dismayed. He's not coming? Maggie's not eager to cross so much as the Square, alone. Cally stares at Palmer. What? He's abandoning them? She eyes Maggie then, worriedly. Richard looks at Palmer for a moment, then addresses Maggie. "Could you use a hand, ma'am?" Pete's brows perk up, "The Sheriff's office, now what would you all be needing to do there?" Hmmm? Palmer easily recognizes the apprehension in their eyes, and then aims a glance over to Richard, nodding slightly. "You will accompany them safely to the Sheriff's office and then return here." Then he bends in to whisper to Richard. Bartles is quick to down his whiskey -- it'd take longer, no doubt, if he actually had some food to go along with it. Speaking of which... a quick glance over his shoulder reveals that this unfortunate situation still hasn't been rectified. "My name's Joey," he says to Sally. "Heard talk about a posse, there's no trouble around here, is there?" Maybe he wants to help. Palmer mutters to Richard, "... any... find your... your..." Cletus looks up from his table. Nope, all that stew's gone here, too. Sheriff? Maggie looks at Pete, opens her mouth, and tries to think of an answer that sounds good. Without success. Cally turns back to Richard, a ray of hope. She waits for Maggie to answer since he seemed to be addressing her. At Pete's question and Palmer's response she says, "Umm.." So much for that idea. Way to show off your conversational skills there, Cally. Richard nods. He mutters to Palmer, "Exactly... belong,..." Chester is quietly, happily, pouring whiskey into one of those small glasses, and drinking it. Josh walks off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. Sally toys with her empty glass. "I, uh... just got into town today, myself. Heard something about Indians, I did." she says, trying to be helpful. Palmer nods approval at Richard's response. He turns back toward Maggie and Cally, "This gentleman will see to your safety. If you will excuse me, there is a matter that I find the need to investigate." And with that, he turns and slowly makes his way toward the kitchen. Popular place, that kitchen. Pete takes a slow drag of his cigarette, watching Cally and Maggie. Just watching, and waiting for an answer. Yesssssss? Maggie stuffs both hands into her pockets, and glances between the three men. Nodding to Palmer, "Um...thank you." No, she didn't answer Pete. Richard steps over next to the Law Enforcement Ladies and straightens his cloak. "Ladies..." After you. Maggie flickers a quick smile at Richard, and steps toward the door, with a moment's nervous glance at Pete. Cally finally finds her voice, "Well.. I never said anything about visiting the sheriff. Heaven only knows what the gentleman needed from there," she gestures expansively in Palmer's direction. Then nods to Richard. Aha, rescued from further hole-digging. She tightens her gloves and throws her scarf around her neck. Cletus keeps watching the folks by the door. What about the sheriff? They're not the sheriff... Redhorse moves over from the door in the back of the saloon. Palmer moves off towards the door that leads to the kitchen. "Did you?" Bartles ask gravely. Again he pushes up on his hat, gives his forehead a little scratch and then taps it down further than it was before, brim down over his eyes. "Indians, here, imagine. I figure that's where the posse must've gone, then. Don't you?" Chester looks at Redhorse. "Where's the stew?" Redhorse says "They're sneezing over our stew, Pete. Five minutes, they said, Chester. Five. Minutes." [The Kitchen] Palmer strides over from the main room of the saloon. Josh folds his arms across his chest, "Allright then. Five minutes." He doesn't go anywhere. Miss Gem turns and points the stirring spoon at Josh. "Five minutes without your supervision, my dear, or it'll be fifteen. You know how women and their kitchens are." Madeline takes in a breath, sneezes again, and squints at Josh. "Honestly." *sniff* "You'll only make things worse." *waa-choo!* Oh, Wilona, Maddie is going to have a talk with you, one of these days, yes she is. Josh still doesn't budge an inch. He glares back at Gem. Then at Madeline's comment he says, "Well now I'm just gonna stand over here out of the way. Now y'all just go on back to your cooking." Palmer steps into the kitchen, flicking a curious glance around the large room. Perhaps he took a wrong turn? But he doesn't seem overly quick to correct that mistake. In fact, he just kinda stands there, right to the side of the door. He dismisses the thought of firing up another cigarette. Some people don't like such things in kitchens. *Shrug*. Miss Gem beams, and tries Maddie's tactic. "Well, then, if you insist, you can help chop up vegetables. Put on an apron, my dear, I'm sure it'll look thrilling on you. Wilona, *do* get him some veggies, would you?" She reaches for, and holds out an apron, towards Josh. A frilly one. Wilona is just absolutely amazed at Miss Gem's acting abilities, she's going to definately give that woman a raise. After all, she can't possibly knowe about women and cooking and such. She glances curiously at Palmer before setting herself to finding some bowls. Maybe if they see bowls they will feel that much closer to eating. Madeline sniffs again... and doesn't sneeze. Isn't that a relief. Dashing tears from her eyes, she shakes her head, takes up a carrot, and a knife, and marches right over to Josh. She doesn't ask, she simply reaches for hands and -- carefully -- puts a carrot in one, and the knife in the other. "If you stay, you'll have to help. Those are the rules of the kitchen." Sniff. Josh brushes off Madeline's efforts, handing the knife and carrot back to her. If she won't take it, he'll move over to the counter and deposit them there. Josh isn't about to be bullied around by a bunch of women. He glares at them all, "Y'all just go back to your cooking and quit this sillyness," he orders. Miss Gem would love a raise, honestly. She scrapes some vegetables -- what's already cut up -- into the stew, and stirs some more. Gem. Cooking. Be afraid. She gives Josh a blue-eyed glance, and seriously considers pouring the hot stew on him. Ooops! Madeline smiles That Smile again. "Wilona," she calls, sweetly. "Is there any more tenderizer?" Rule of the kitchen? Helping? Hmmmm. Palmer still remains fixed in his spot next to the entrance. Of course, he *has* chopped up a veggie or two in his day. But now, he's had a bit too much of this 'show' and takes a step or two further into the kitchen, addressing Josh, "My good sir. It seems to me that your presence here is adding infinitely more time to the completion of the stew than it is shaving. I believe your departure would greatly expedite matters." Bless you, Palmer. If you say one more clever thing, Gem might offer you a whole night for free. Josh turns his glare on Palmer. "And who asked you?" He steps over towards Palmer, angrily, "I'd suggest, mister, that you get out of here, afore you get hurt." He points emphatically towards the door leading back to the saloon. [The Saloon] Pete doesn't move, still blocking the way for the two women and their new companion. He stares directly at Cally since she chose to answer him, "Ain't no reason to be going over there. Causin men to come here and asking all sorts of questions. Questions can get a man hurt, Miss. You keep that in mind. You consider who's life you are endangering before you do anything brash. We're just here for a little whiskey and stew, you understand?" Cletus drinks more beer. Sheriff, posse, gone. Even Cletus can put two and two together and get.... um.... what was it now? Redhorse sits down. Indians, eh. He listens closely. Richard gives Pete that even look. "The ladies could go directly home, if you prefer. Neither one of them is the sheriff, I assure you." No ladies with badges here, are there? Maggie stops when it's clear Pete's not going to get out of the way. "We're not...we're just..." Er. A quick glance at Richard, at the last bit. Chester stops mid-pour, bottle in hand. "Sneezing?" Redhorse sits down again. "They have a mess there. Dust everywhere. Don't blame them for sneezin'. They promised us our stew in 5 minutes. 4 now. Josh is still in'ere. Cally meets Pete's gaze, looking nervous but not avoiding his gaze. She just nods, not saying anything for a moment. Then she glances at Maggie and pipes up, "The gentleman here is just going to escort us home." Right Richard? She looks at him. Maggie stops when it's clear Pete's not going to get out of the way. "We're not...we're just..." Er. A quick glance at Richard, at the last bit. Pete considers then steps aside, as if releasing them. As Cally walks by he murmurs to her. He mutters to Cally, "... has... smart." Cally senses "Pete considers then steps aside, as if releasing them. As Cally walks by he murmurs to her. "No one has to die, if you play it smart."" Chester frowns. Wasn't dusty when _he_ was in there. He shrugs and resumes pouring. Redhorse says "Say Chester, give me some of 'dat."" Maggie quickly moves out the door, into the snow. Maggie saunters off towards the porch. Chester doesn't move. "There's more behind the bar." This is mine. Cally pauses momentarily at Pete's mumbled remark, looking sharply over at him. She considers for a moment, then nods, a barely perceptible movement of her head. Then she follows Maggie out the door. Cally walks off towards the porch. Redhorse sighs, hopping over the bar to help himself. Richard gives Pete a very small grin. "You enjoy your evening, sir." And he leaves, cloak flaring. Richard walks off towards the porch. Sally glances over at the bar, despairing any table service. Redhorse drinks some straight from the bottle, glances about. "2 more minutes." Louey sighs as another invades his area. He thrusts a bottle out towards Redhorse. Redhorse Gets out from behind the bar, heading towards the back doors. Chester nods. He can wait. He watches Redhorse. Pete looks about, the crowd has really thinned out. He heads towards Sally and Bartles, not really giving a damn if theres a chair there or not. He stands. Redhorse yells, "Josh, they done?" [The Kitchen] Redhorse says from outside, "Josh, they done?" Josh's annoyed respone, "No they ain't done.. too busy making a fuss about every damn thing." Wilona looks at the stew She mutters to Madeline, "... it's... but if... going... keep... I... we..." Madeline senses "Wilona looks at the stew "Well it's half raw and probably tastes like the devil but if they are going to keep pressuring us I say we let them eat it as is."" Palmer actually smiles at that. A smile that some might find charming. Of course, not Josh. At least hopefully not. That's one game Palmer doesn't play. He doesn't seem overly willing to follow Josh's suggestion. "Your concern for my safety is much appreciated, however I believe it is misplaced. This kitchen will not be a place of violence. And my only interest is in seeing that you are fed with due haste. Now to further my interest and your's, it would be best for you to return to the bar area to await your meal." Madeline tilts her head toward Wilona, and looks at the bubbling pot of stew. She worries at her bottom lip a moment, then nods. "Yes," she calls out. "It's done! We'll bring bowls out in a moment! Just sit and relax, gentlemen!" Josh looks at Palmer like he's speaking in a foreign language. "What're you going on about, you blatering idiot?" he asks, but is suitably distracted by Maddie's announcement of the impending meal. "It's about TIME." He pushes his way past Palmer and back out into the saloon. Wilona nods and smiles at Josh and Palmer, making shooing motions, "All done. Now go on out and we'll be out with the bowls." Madeline gathers up bowls, and begins ladeling the stew, into bowls. It's thick, it steams like good hot stew, and there's bits of meat and vegetables in it. Yum! [The Saloon] Bartles continues making polite, and utterly unremarkable, small talk with Sally. How she's enjoying herself in town, the weather, the fierceness of Indians. This last topic is touched on with a bit of grim humor. Sally keeps fondling her empty glass, smiling at the young man, and making polite responses. She looks up at Pete with almost a hint of relief. Cletus gets up from his seat. There's the problem with not being at the bar. "More beer!" Clonk. Not bad beer... better than hideout food and drink. Yeah, stew. Redhorse yells over at the rest of the boys, "They ain't getting us our stew. Let's get it ourselves." Pete suddenly has nothing better to do but be bossy. "No. They'll bring it out. Josh has it in hand." Redhorse says "Josh says' they ain't gettin' it, PEte." Chester rises and heads for Redhorse and the door. "Then go." Redhorse blinks back at Chester and Pete. Redhorse says "Josh, they got it?" Bartles would, actually, go up and remedy the situation surrounding Sally's empty glass, but that would require vacating the table's only other seat. Pete's standing there, too; he can see how that'd go. "There goes Cletus again," he says, soon as he can the guy's cup slapping against the table. Redhorse blinks again, "Josh, they comin' out with it?" Josh strolls over from the door in the back of the saloon. Chester is hovering by the door, glowering. Yes? Redhorse looks to see if the women follow Josh. Josh stalks out of the kithcen, looking none to happy. To Redhorse he remarks, "Yeah they're comin'..." Redhorse moves off to one of the tables. "I'm beginning to hate this town." Bartles calls past Pete, over toward his brother, "Cletus, do me a favor and bring the young lady here another drink. Whiskey's her choice, I do believe." There, dilemma solved. Well, then again, this is Cletus. Dilemma *maybe* solved. Chester growls at Redhorse, "You liked the snow better?" He returns to his bottle. [The Kitchen] Palmer chuckles quietly after Josh's departure. A chuckle that he quickly stifles as he glances over to Wilona. "I'm afraid that I will not be dining here. I was merely seeking the exit when I stepped into this room. I apologize for the interruption, but I was unable to restrain myself from involvement." Palmer was only seeking the exit. Really! Wilona shakes her head, "Your involvement was most welcome, and besides, you wouldn't want to eat this stew." She offers a polite smile then adds hastily, "Do you think you coudl deliver a message to Marshal O'Mally?" Madeline nods absently to Palmer. "Good night, Mr. Palmer." She takes up two bowls of stew then, and nods to the others. "Gem? Wilona? Our dinner guests are waiting," she says, only slightly amused. Wilona fills two bowls as well and prepares to leave, waiting on Palmer's answer. Miss Gem moves to deposit a kiss on Palmer's cheek. "Thank you," she breathes, in a fashion that would put shame to a grateful Scarlett O'Hara, and then she goes to help the others. Palmer doesn't know Marshal O'Mally, but this town is small enough so as to make him easily found. So, he nods. "Yes, that is possible." Then his glance falls upon Miss Gem. And it's definitely not an unpleasant glance. Madeline bumps the door open with a hip, and carries out the first two bowls. Wish her luck. Wilona smiles gratefully, "At the Golden Star Hotel. Tell him I need to speak with him as soon as possible." Hefting her two bowls she scurries out before waiting too long. [The Grey Horse Saloon] Pete eyes Sally a long time then finds his appetite for food has diminished. Now that the men have their food he heads towards the stairs and the many waiting and willing women above. Madeline bumps the door from the kitchen open with a hip, and emerges, carrying two bowls, one in either hand. She smiles, and calls, "So, which of you has an appetite?" Wilona hurries over from the door in the back of the saloon. Josh sits down at the bar and looks over at the ladies. "Bring some of that over ehere.." he calls. Chester puts his glass down. Finally. "Bring it here." He's at the bar, with a half-empty bottle in hand. Pete emerges with bowls as well, moving towards the bar and offering one to Cletus. Redhorse sits with more patience then he should have. "Me, too." Cletus looks over at Bartles. "Right, Clem." Clonk again. "Whiskey, too." Lookee, beer. Louey swipes the empty mug, quickly, then makes with the whiskey. Cletus picke it up, too, and heads for Bartles's table. "Here you go..." Cletus has had a few now, and he's not completely steady... but he spills beer, not whiskey. Miss Gem hurries over from the door in the back of the saloon. Madeline promised to serve Chester first, didn't she? Well, Gem did, but, Maddie will have to do. Maddie delivers the first bowl to Chester, smiles, and continues on toward Josh. Wilona can feed the indian. Miss Gem serves her stew to appropriate takers, and then disappears upstairs. Wilona gives her second bowl to Redhorse. Pete offers to escort Miss Gem upstairs. Redhorse watches Miss Gem scurry off as quick as she can. He thinks it a bit odd. Redhorse takes the bowl without a word. Sally takes the shot gratefully and does not sip it. She swallows. Chester wastes no time in attacking the stew, though he looks unimpressed with the quality. Must be the cheese. Miss Gem turns Pete down, thank you, pleading a violent and sudden attack of gas. Bartles winces at the name coming out of Cletus' mouth. "That's *Joey*, you idiot," he hisses, under his breath, in Pete-out-of-earshot mode. "Clem's dead, remember." So much for his manner, or his thanks. Cletus ambles back to his chair. "Stew? Yeah..." New beer, new stew. Perfect. Josh looks impatiently at Madeline as she approaches with the stew. Then reaches out to take the bowl from her. Sally smiles, slightly apologeticly, to Joey. "Thank you sir", she says. Redhorse begins drinking the stew, distaste crossing his face. Madeline never claimed she could cook, boys. Still, service done, Maddie is headed for that coat she abandoned on the stool before the bar. She intends to leave. Redhorse is hungry enough not to really care. Chester watches Madeline, but Pete let the others go. He doesn't interfere. Bartles manages to come out with a bowl of stew in all of this, and he starts in hungrily. His interest in Sally has dropped, noticeably, now that Pete's out of the room and he's figured out she's not too up on current events. Cletus scoops stew into his mouth. Eeeeeeeyuck! Not like the other batch... "Hey, who made this stew?" Josh swallows one spoonful of the stew before sputtering angrily. He curses abuot the ladies, the stew, and the town in general before knocking the bowl of stew off the bar onto the floor. Standing up angrily, Josh pulls on his gloves. "I'm gonna go see i f there's any REAL food in this god-forsaken town," he mumbles, to whichever of his compadres are listening. And then he stalks out the door, glaring at Madeline on his way out. Madeline buttons up the coat, and darts for the door. She even leaves the bottle of brandy on the counter. She avoids collision with Josh, on her way, closes her eyes, breathes something quiet, and continues on. This promises to be a long night. [Meanwhile On The Porch] Janson shrugs. "One in the prison. Pay him, and he's trustworthy, I think. But other than that..." Maggie blinks at Janson. "Pay..who? What d'you mean?" Shivering, now. To Richard, belatedly answering his question, "I guess home's safe..." Richard hmms. "There's got to me more men around. Shopkeepers, stablehands, farmers, whatever." We need people. Janson says "His name is Xabre Pendari. He's a bounty hunter and contract killer. And not liked." Maggie puffs out a breath. "The farmers are on their farms, and..." Another blink at Janson. "Contract killer? That's not...we can't let him out." Cally is also noticing how cold it is outside, and shoves her hands into her pockets for extra warmth. Finally she glances to Maggie, "Speaking of safe.. if you and Rebecca want to come stay with Jacob and me.. at least until Mac and Randall come back.. it would probably be safer.." Richard shakes his head. "Let's try the law-abiding folks first. After we get the ladies taken care of. It _is_ awfully cold out here." Janson looks thoughtful. "Just trying to figure out what we have. I don't think we should let him out either, but we may not have a choice." Maggie frowns. "He's a murderer, you're saying. Isn't that what it means? You can't let him out." Cold, yes. To Cally, "I'll be safe, I'm sure..." Janson just says, voice showing a certain measure of cynicism, "He kills for money, yes. Pay him, and he kills for you." Cally nods to Maggie, "All right.." darn so much for that idea. She stamps her feet a bit, to keep them from getting to cold. "It's awfully cold out here.." she prompts Richard. Beyond the porch railing to the north, Palmer saunters over from the west side of town. Richard nods. "Home, for both of you." A look up at Janson. "Care to come along?" Two heads are better than one... Janson nods. "Anytime. As long as we act, and before someone is killed." He looks like this is something he has seen before, albeit not happily. Maggie folds her arms, stomping her own feet. "We could...I could make everyone some coffee, at my place." In the road to the north, Palmer steps out from behind the saloon, pausing near the bottom of the porch to glance around. He glances up at the sound of Richard. Still here? Perhaps they encountered some sort of difficulty. Then he makes his way for that p orch, calling out a question. "On what matter do you intend to take action?" Time to find out just what he's walked into. The hornet's nest, no doubt. Cally shakes her head slightly, "I have to go home.." she says, without further explanation. Maggie answers Palmer, "About...them. Tonight." Janson gestures at the saloon. "We have some kind of gang in there. They are trying to take over the place entirely, judging by what they say and do. Obnoxious." _His_ opinion is clear! Richard nods a little. "And with no lawmen in town.... or not nearly enough...." Palmer aims a glance over toward the saloon and the heathen therein. He nods just slightly. "They believe themselves to be in a position of advantage, and are acting on said belief. I have just completed an encounter with that whom I believe to be the leader of this gang. If properly met, they are expendable." Maggie nods a few times. No Randall... "Expendable? What happened?" Janson frowns. "What do you mean?" Janson glances in the window, and then looks very inconspicuous. "One's coming!" he hisses. Cally looks confused at Palmer. "What?" Richard waves a hand. "Let's talk about this somewhere else." Warm, and not so close to the heathens. Maggie looks to that window. "What...?" Oh. She goes quiet, as Josh appears. Josh storms out the door of the saloon, brushing angrily past anyone who has the misfortune to get in his way. Not a happy camper, is Josh. Janson looks like he's just standing there. No particular reason. Madeline strolls over from the saloon. Maggie stumbles slightly as she gets out of Josh's way, and nods to Richard. Somewhere else. Janson looks at Richard. Lead the way. Richard leads. Richard walks off towards the street to the south. In the road to the south, Richard saunters over from the saloon porch. Josh pays no attention to the folks on the porch as he stalks down the steps. Then he pause, spinning on his heel and walks back up. Choosing a target he glares at Maggie. "Where the hell is the restaurant?" Someone mentioned one. It must be here. Janson strides off towards the street to the south. Beyond the porch railing to the north, Richard saunters over from the southern part of town. Palmer turns his gaze over to Janson, "What I mean is best not discussed in the current forum." Yup, the porch just isn't a good forum. He peers over at Josh as the man storms away. What perfect timing. He calls out to the departing Josh, "Be wary." Madeline moves off towards the northern street. Maggie stares at Josh. "It...it's..." The Mendezes can take care of themselves? Surely? No, it'd be Wrong. "I don't know." Josh takes another step closer to Maggie, threateningly, "You don't know, huh? Well then I guess you can help me look for it, then." He reaches for her arm. In the road to the north, Janson looks at the porch, saying nothing. His glance hardens as Josh acts. Cally clears her throat and pipes up weakly, "It's across town. That way." She points helpfully. Cally's scruples are noticably lax when her friends are in danger, or perceived danger. From the road to the north, Richard's gun makes no noise as it turns toward Josh. And that wonderful deep-blue finish doesn't show up well against his black cloak. But Cally points. Palmer can move rather quickly when necessary, and this is a time when it is necessary. He quickly moves to slip between Maggie and Josh, shaking his head just slightly as he faces Josh, "That is unwise." Maggie squeaks. He can get the arm; she'll try to yank it back. From the road to the north, Madeline hears nothing, sees nothing. She's on a mission. In the road to the north, Madeline walks off towards the western part of town. Josh's arm pauses, before actually grabbing Maggie. He looks to Cally, allowing Palmer the opportunity to slip between them. Without another word, he turns and stalks down the stairs again, heading in the direction Cally indicated. Maggie pushes her hair back with both hands. She's not panicked. She's not. She's not even scared. Got it? Another hair-push, and then she pushes her hands as far as they'll go, into her pockets. Palmer smiles just slightly, grateful that he didn't have to play his hand....yet. After Josh departs, he steps to the railing and again warns, "Be wary." Cally lets out a breath as Josh departs and looks over at Maggie, worriedly. "Let's go.. before any more of them show up." Beyond the porch railing to the north, Richard might look just a little impatient. But the muzzle of his revolver sneaks back under his cloak. Maggie nods, swallowing, and hurries down the steps. Vaguely, "Thank you." Palmer has nothing better to do at the moment, so he follows as well. That whiskey will wait. And wait...and wait.