Jump to content

All Activity

This stream auto-updates     

  1. Yesterday
  2. James smiled back, forgetting again that she could not see it. Truthfully he would be hard pressed to stop himself from doing such things even in her presence but for those who had sight, they would struggle to imagine how she lived as well as she did without it. It was as ingrained in him as it was for her doing without. Because he’d been raised at all-male boarding schools, the young British man had very limited experience with the fairer sex, this was simply a fact, one that James had no trouble acknowledging. When she joked with the Marshall regarding being weighed down with metal coins, James chuckled at her jest, stopping suddenly as something occurred to him. “I say!” He exclaimed, then rushed on, “Have you ever given thought to folding each kind of bill in a different way so that you can tell which is which?” He caught his breath then, waiting to see what she or the Marshall thought of his latest idea. If she needed his assistance in the folding, he'd be happy to help her. As she suspected, James was obvious to the fact that she was gently flirting with him, taking everything at face value, his inexperience with the fairer sex once again rearing it’s head. He caught something of the heat that colored her cheeks, and the errant thought passed through his mind that she might be falling ill. Not uncommon so soon after the passing of a loved one.
  3. He tried to make it sound important enough that she should be interested in local politics but really what good did being interested do her? She could not change anything. She could not vote so to hell with it. The people she lived with, worked with were what was important to her. But she wasn't going to argue with him about it. "Sure, I reckon," Caroline shrugged. Then handsome young soldier...correction, officer now launched into a nice long tale of his family roots. It was fascinating really he knew all that much about his family history and those who came before. She didn't know a damn thing about such things in her own life. She was pretty damn sure the woman she called Ma had been the one to give birth to her but she was not positive. And there was even more doubt about her father or step father. No matter, they had been a family and stuck together til two out of three died. So now it was just her. Well, her and her saloon family. "Interestin'," she nodded, enjoying the way he told the story as much as the actual story. "So you see, in a hundred years time... the president of the United States will be tracing his roots back to a beautiful saloon singer in old Kalispell and a tramp in the street'll be vaguely aware that he is descended from the once great Greenes of Vermont." He shrugged. "Who cares, rich man, poor man, beggar man thief." he looked into the depths of her blue eyes "... or lady, baby, gypsy, queen." "Not gonna happen that way. I'm never gonna get married and I ain't gonna have any children so no one is descendin' from me, hon. But I liked yer tellin' of it," she liked him, this dinner date had turned out better than she had figured it would.
  4. Last week
  5. "Ah yeah, the mayor's election. Why should I care who wins? I can't even vote in it, "Caroline waved it off. Oh she would clap for and cheer on Mr. Priest whom her boss was pushing to win but she personally did not give a damn. Greene shrugged. "Maybe not, but the person who's elected could make your life a lot better or a whole lot worse. You ever hear of a abomination that goes by the name of a 'dry county'? The poor b... er, denizens of a place like that probably didn't realise until too late what they were voting in." he laughed, although it was no laughing matter: reformers and prohibitionists were even in these early decades starting to make their voices heard. He then mentioned being interested in listening to her and Ara perform. "Please do. I don't want to sound like I'm braggin' but most folks say I've got a real nice singing voice. I admit my dancing is not that special but I just show them a little leg.......or more than a little...and they clap alright," she informed him. "I can imagine!" he smiled. But it was a nice smile. A friendly smile. Not the sort of lascivious smile that indicated that he already had been imagining... frequently. They talked of the famous Dance. "Yeah, must have been before I arrived in town. No local dances for me yet...besides I got a feelin' my sort would not be welcomed at any such town affair. Those things are for proper folks." Greene frowned. He didn't like to think of this beautiful woman being denigrated in any way: though he was not unaware of the snobby often hypocritical attitude of those who felt them selves a cut above the type of folks who worked in certain professions, including soldiers - at least the non-commissioned kind. Sometimes with good reason, often times not. "You know, one of my aunts once had our family tree drawn up, just like the noble families of Europe. The fellow who did it even drew it like a tree, leaves, and apples, and all. We're real Vermont blue-bloods, you see, despite the green name. Aunt Mary-Anne expected our forefathers to have come across on the Mayflower, or with Captain Smith to Jamestown." He smiled happily at the memory of it. "Imagine her delight when the feller delivered our family tree and revealed that the first Greene to set foot on American soil was an indentured servant, a virtual slave, who'd been transported here for, get this, stealing apples from some rich lord's orchard!" He enjoyed the memory of his snobby aunt's discomfort for a moment then returned to the present. "So you see, in a hundred years time... the president of the United States will be tracing his roots back to a beautiful saloon singer in old Kalispell and a tramp in the street'll be vaguely aware that he is descended from the once great Greenes of Vermont." He shrugged. "Who cares, rich man, poor man, beggar man thief." he looked into the depths of her blue eyes "... or lady, baby, gypsy, queen." @Wayfarer
  6. "Debate, you dumb bitch, it's called a debate," Caroline mumbled under her breath but the woman figured it out just then too. Priest wasn't going to be rushed though. He would reveal all later was all he would promise. In that way the man was a true politician, promises a whole lot, she'd see if he actually delivered on anything. The politicians in Chicago had been crooked, the mayor of Helena had been well meaning but a bumbling fool, and the one here in Kalispell was ......well, she didn't even know who the hell that was, he was pretty much invisible. The town seemingly had been run by that one council member before he lit himself on fire. Just then they got themselves a trio of new customers, rough looking lot but a customer was a customer. Fortner invited them to have a drink and they promptly bellied up to the bar. Of course Ralph was there, waiting to hear what they'd like. "Three whiskies," one of the men said, after reaching into his coat and putting down some coinage. "Sure nuff, comin' right up," Ralph nodded and reached for one of the cheap bottles, he was a pretty good judge of customers' taste and proclivities. He poured three shots of the powerful liquor. Caroline swung into saloon girl mode too, sashaying up to the one lined up at the bar closest to her, gifting him with a bright smile, "Welcome! Have a long ride, did ya, hon?"
  7. He gazed up at the domed ceiling and was awe struck at it's beauty. He was taken aback by the obvious talent that it took to create such a beautiful thing. "Dang near as pretty as you, Em." was his comment. "Took 'em a while to get that done. Never seen the like." And that was a fact. There had been nothing that he had seen before to compare to the glass domed ceiling, nothing. He suddenly felt out of place, something odd for him to feel, at any time, in any place, but it struck him here in this place. The sheer beauty of it touched him. What man could accomplish given the opportunity "Now 'at's somethin'. Best we see what other marvels they got in this place. May not have time ta see everything." He pointed out. @Bongo
  8. He smiled. "It's Ben Simons and I was asking about some of your plans for Kalispell and I'm sure the good voters here would like to know as well." Then he gave a wide sweeping gesture to acknowledge the other people who were there. It seemed that there were a few who were getting more interested in their conversion as some of them responded with "yeah" and "what he said." Priest didn't like to be pushed, but he didn't let that break his stride. Except for eyeing Ben Simons up and down, and chomping on his chaw, he remained genial. But, when he was about to address Simons, that drunken old hag began blathering. "They should have a whatayacallem!" yelled Sally Adams suddenly "A debate! All of them, whatayacallem, Can'idates!" she laughed. "I remember seein' Douglas and Lincoln in Freeport waaaaaay before the war. Douglas whupped his ass. Course, that's before he had that beard. Beard helped a lot, y'know. Much better with the beard." "The lady has a point," Hiram agreed. "But that's for down-the-road a spell once all the candidates get together." And then he turned to Ben and said, "Sir, I'm preparing a platform to run on, and I will lay it out for everyone at the rally I'm holding next week down the street." He smiled and said, "You don't think I'm gonna steal my own thunder. Do ya?" A draft swept into the saloon as three rough toughs entered through the swinging doors. After two steps inside, they looked at Fortner. "Gentlemen," the Proprietor greeted them. "Welcome to the Star Dust. Step up to the bar and have a drink." The men grunted and did as he said. That gave Hiram his cue. "Thanks for your interest, Mr. Simons. I'm sure we'll talk later." And with that, he walked over to the corner to where his reserved table was. Hells-a-poppin, the old politician thought as he sat down. "Three whiskies," one of the men said, after reaching into his coat and putting down some coinage.
  9. If ever there was a 'tourist' look, Emeline had it in spades as she gazed around at the floors of balconies that surrounded an open area that was six stories high -- Emeline counted! And when she moved farther in and looked up, she gasped. There, overhead, where the ceiling would be, was a huge domed stained-glass window showing a ship in full sail on a turbulent sea. "Look at that!" she gasped, standing there like an idiot, head tilted back as she stared up. "That's amazing! I wonder how they did that? Or if Mr. Penderson had anything to do with it." The whole place was incredible, and Emeline thought that she could easily get lost looking around. @Flip
  10. "Ah yeah, the mayor's election. Why should I care who wins? I can't even vote in it,"Caroline waved it off. Oh she would clap for and cheer on Mr. Priest whom her boss was pushing to win but she personally did not give a damn. He then mentioned being interested in listening to her and Ara perform. "Please do. I don't want to sound like I'm braggin' but most folks say I've got a real nice singing voice. I admit my dancing is not that special but I just show them a little leg.......or more than a little...and they clap alright," she informed him. Turns out the lieutenant possibly had even danced with Arabella at some town dance. Bet Ara enjoyed that, good fer her! "Yeah, must have been before I arrived in town. No local dances for me yet...besides I got a feelin' my sort would not be welcomed at any such town affair. Those things are for proper folks." Seemingly Ara had been in attendance, but it was different, she was still a child. They would probably cut her some slack. Saloon entertainers though, they were often lumped in with whores, fair or not. Life wasn't fair.
  11. Bongo

    Captives

    "Was a shotgun, ya ol' rascal!" Addy laughed. "But I did kill me a bear after he kilt one'a my horses. Look't him right in th' eyes an' sent him ta his maker. Give his carcass t' th' local Utes, that bear was big enough ta feed that tribe fer a week, an' his hide'd give some warmth come Winter!" This part of the trail took a bit more concentration, there were numerous turns, and hills both up and down, so that the horses had to break stride and change pace, but Addy enjoyed the challenge, and the team was up to the task. "I been robbed a time'er two," she continued, "but come ta no harm, an' had nothin' worth stealin'." Not very exciting, but life seldom measured up to expectations. @Wayfarer
  12. "I don't follow the news much ...or politics. The local paper don't cover that sorta thing much and I'll be honest and admit I ain't much of a reader," she shrugged. "What's going on back in Washington might not be too interesting to people out here, but pretty soon we'll have some more local politics for folks to fall out over. I hear tell the Mayor's Office is up for grabs." he mentioned. "I happened to see a list of the candidates on display at the town hall." Somehow the conversation morphed from politics to piano pounders. "That's Arabella, she works in the saloon. Laundry, washing floors, glasses, you name it. She's an orphan girl. But she also plays the piano and she's really good at it. A big help to me when I'm up there singing," Caroline replied. "I should drop by when I'm off duty some night. I'd like to hear you both." he smiled. "She's a character that one. Ralph sez it best I think...Arabella is best taken in small doses but she comes at you by the gallon." "Yeah, I think I danced with her at some kind of barn dance I was ordered to attend by the Colonel. Might have ben before you came to town. She... oh well, I just remembered some more of my Mother's advice: she told me if you want a girl to like you, don't talk about other women to them! Even Arabellas." @Wayfarer
  13. "Worst thing that ever happened to the South, that's for sure." ruminated Greene. "Not so good for Mr. Lincoln either," Caroline added dead pan. "But I don't know about Ol' Abe. Maybe it's best to go out like that, when you're on top. I mean look at Grant: he was the idol of the North when the war ended. If he'd gone out then, he'd be held in as high esteem as President Lincoln is today. But now look, after all these scandals and the Whiskey thing..." he looked philosophical "Some men are at their best in peace, some in war." "I don't follow the news much ...or politics. The local paper don't cover that sorta thing much and I'll be honest and admit I ain't much of a reader," she shrugged. She then remarked, in jest of course, she would have loved to have been in the war as a soldier despite her young age. "Wouldn't fancy Lee's chances against even a half-sized Miss Mundee!" he said. "Old saying ya know, it ain't the size of the dog, it's the size of the fight in the dog," Caroline grinned. "Or you could have gone as a cantinière!" he suggested. "Oh I heard of 'em," she nodded, "Camp followers, right." "Say, didn't I see your funny little friend dressed up as one of those particular 'ladies' one time?" he frowned. Caroline had to laugh, recalling it. "Yep, you did. That's Arabella, she works in the saloon. Laundry, washing floors, glasses, you name it. She's an orphan girl. But she also plays the piano and she's really good at it. A big help to me when I'm up there singing," Caroline replied. "She's a character that one. Ralph sez it best I think..." "Arabella is best taken in small doses but she comes at you by the gallon."
  14. ooc: Crap! Missed this one, sorry. Yell at me next time I'm so slow.... IC: "I both forgive and expect your bias, naturally enough," Clara took the woman's opinion in stride. As for Lucinda's idea of showing her the photo of her former husband, if nothing else simple curiosity called for Clara to nod, "Please do." Clara asked about how the woman had met her husband. "Oh, we met at a ball. It was my second ball of the season, I think, and all the girls my age were looking for husbands. All the men there were looking for wives. Anyway, I danced with Francis once, and then again, and again. The next ball we had, I barely danced with anyone else. He made me feel like I was dancing on the clouds." Clara actually smiled at the tale, it was a happy one and there was a similarity to her own life experience too. "Sounds wonderful. It was the same with me and my Jacob. He first approached me at the last barn dance we had. We had never met. I was not....well....popular with boys and honestly had some verbal run ins with a couple of them. But Jacob was so polite and nice. He treated me like I was fine crystal, if you know what I mean. What is that old line? Swept me off my feet? Well, that is what Jacob did to me. " Even now the memory of that night was still such a fond one.
  15. Priest gave a long rambling exposition on... well, what was it about? Something about living in the past and being from Montana and golden sunshine. It all sounded very fancy and uplifting, give him that. Priest was a good politician, he didn't really say much, but he said it in a crowd pleasing way. It was near lyrical, and Hiram looked out at the slack-mouth audience. "You oughta put that to music," he said to Arabella. "Hmm, and you oughta answer the question!" she murmered to herself. "Oh, I'll do just that Mr. Priest!" she answered more brightly. "So, what is he?" asked a nearby cowpoke, who was as bamboozled by the old man's speechification as the rest of them. "He's a Republican!" Arabella hissed a reply "Wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole!" Hmmm, if Priest wasn't a Democrat, maybe one of the other candidates would be. "Your name, again?" He smiled. "It's Ben Simons and I was asking about some of your plans for Kalispell and I'm sure the good voters here would like to know as well." Then he gave a wide sweeping gesture to acknowledge the other people who were there. It seemed that there were a few who were getting more interested in their conversion as some of them responded with "yeah" and "what he said." "They should have a whatayacallem!" yelled Sally Adams suddenly "A debate! All of them, whatayacallem, Can'idates!" she laughed. "I remember seein' Douglas and Lincoln in Freeport waaaaaay before the war. Douglas whupped his ass. Course, that's before he had that beard. Beard helped a lot, y'know. Much better with the beard." It was a good idea, even if rather eccentrically expressed. @Wayfarer @Preston @JulieS
  16. Arabella's head was, frankly swimming. Lorenzo dying? Brendan in love, it seemed, with Bridget? Well, he couldn't stop thinking about her, that spelled l.o.v.e. in her book. Phew! At least he did his best to make her feel better. "Arabella, your face looks like green cheese.” Not that his best was that great. "Thanks!" she said sarcastically. "And yours looks like... ah, let's face it, it looks all stupid and handsome like it always does!" she shrugged. Even she had to admit that. He stood up. “I’m goin’ to talk to her. I want you to come with me.” She jumped up. She had mixed feelings about this, everything had gone topsy-turvy and was moving way too fast. The only thing more unsettling than the idea of going with the good-looking cowpoke to see her half-witted, crippled friend was the idea of him going on his own, and her not knowing what happened between the two of them. "Wai-wai-wait! All right Mississippi, I'll come with, just hold on and let me get decent." she implored him. 'Getting decent' didn't take too long, as it involved pulling on her poke bonnet and shawl and grabbing her shopping basket. "Don't want folks thinkin' we're walkin' out together" she muttered. She swilled out her mouth with water, too, to remove the sick taste. She found Brendan ready to go. "Listen, she won't be at home this time of day" she told him "She'll be all gussied up and wanderin' round town lookin' through folks windows by now" Arabella calculated. The act of 'getting decent' had given her time to reflect. Gosh, if Brendan knew 'all about' Bridget, he must also know about the surgical corset that kept her up straight during the day. And the terrible scarring on her body. He was so handsome, she reflected, he could have had the most beautiful girl in town - scratch that, he DID have the most beautiful girl in town, Caroline. She couldn't believe he was that way about Bridget, it... why, it was so noble. She was welling up inside, she could feel it. It was all so romantic, and she just felt so proud of Brendan: proud of him for him seeing the beauty, the real pure beauty, in her idiot friend. "All righty. You ready?" she asked. @Bailey
  17. “I know what happened to her, Arabella,” Brendan said quietly. He knew, and that was the reason he couldn’t stop thinking about Bridget. Anyone who’d been through what she had didn’t deserve to end up back on the streets. His news about Crabbe’s supposed death was an even bigger shock to Arabella than he’d thought it would be, and it shocked the breakfast out of her. He looked away while she vomited, trying to block out the horrible heaving noises. Finally she was finished. He looked back at her. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” He hadn’t thought about her long hair getting in the way. “No, it weren’t nice.” He grinned a little bit. “Arabella, your face looks like green cheese.” Maybe green cheese didn’t actually look like her face, but her face was green. Now was the time to make his move. He stood up. “I’m goin’ to talk to her. I want you to come with me.”
  18. "Arabella! Enough!" barked Fortner. Ben was just surprised as everyone else in the place. They were all used to Arabella and her ramblings that they didn't pay her no mind. If Fortner wanted to be on good terms with everyone, chastising an employee, even if it was Arabella, in public wasn't the way to go about it. Arabella, despite her faults, had people who genuinely cared for her. Hiram shook his head. "I got no problem answering the young lady's question. It's a good one." He looked across the floor to where Arabella stood waiting for an answer. "So you're asking me what political affiliation I might be, a Democrat or a Republican? And that's a good question so I'll tell you. I'm an American. More to the point, I'm a Montanan. Your head is filled with worryin' about yesterday - Republican, Democrat. But look at it this way. We're all on a journey. We're all on a train headin' for better times. So don't pack a trunk of junk filled with yesterdays because tomorrow, tomorrow'll be filled with sunshine." Priest's answer to Arabella's questions seemed to ease the situation and now they were paying attention to what he was saying. "Your name, again?" He smiled. "It's Ben Simons and I was asking about some of your plans for Kalispell and I'm sure the good voters here would like to know as well." Then he gave a wide sweeping gesture to acknowledge the other people who were there. It seemed that there were a few who were getting more interested in their conversion as some of them responded with "yeah" and "what he said." @Preston @Javia
  19. "Northern spy? Dumb name for an apple if ya ask me," Caroline observed, "But sure, enough about apples then. Not like I have anything to add to the subject anyhow other then they taste good. Well, when they ain't all mushy or rottin'." "Actually, when Northern Spies turn, they can be used for cider making or..." he dramatically clapped his hand over his own mouth to stop himself talking about apples. They decided on what to eat, and the young officer mooted the idea of coming back again. as a patriotic duty. "Oh lordy, patriotic duty huh? Well I do consider myself a patriot. I thought Mr. Lincoln was a swell president. Too bad those poor loser rebs shot him." "Worst thing that ever happened to the South, that's for sure." ruminated Greene "But I don't know about Ol' Abe. Maybe it's best to go out like that, when you're on top. I mean look at Grant: he was the idol of the North when the war ended. If he'd gone out then, he'd be held in as high esteem as President Lincoln is today. But now look, after all these scandals and the Whiskey thing..." he looked philosophical "Some men are at their best in peace, some in war." "If they'd have let women in that war, Ida joined. Course I was about 7-8 years old then," she grinned. He laughed. "Wouldn't fancy Lee's chances against even a half-sized Miss Mundee!" he said, giving her the benefit of his 'vast' military experience and all he had learned at West Point. "Or you could have gone as a cantinière!" he suggested. Then an odd memory buzzed around him, like an annoying fly: something he had witnessed months ago. "Say, didn't I see your funny little friend dressed up as one of those particular 'ladies' one time?" he frowned. @Wayfarer
  20. Hearing the mention of plans, Ben stepped forward, "You wouldn't mind giving us a hint on these plans? I've already heard a few from the other contenders and I wouldn't want you to step on their toes by saying something they've already covered." "Well that's a fine question, young man," Priest began cautiously. "One has to proceed with ..." but his flow of speech was cut short when Arabella shouted from across the room. "More to the point, Mister Priest, what are you? A nice clean living Democrat, or some God-forsaken, devil horned, dyed in the wool Republican?!" she asked, her political opinions (pointless as she didn't hold the vote due to her age and sex) set in stone by her Southern upbringing. Priest stared at her from over the top of his glasses. He wasn't used to being questioned, especially by one so young and seemingly inexperienced. He frowned, and so did her employer, Franklin Fortner. Arabella continued. Only her youth prevented her from appearing as a fishwife. "Say, you ain't no dirty Greenbacker are ya?!" she cried. She wasn't over-sure what a Greenbacker was, but she'd read somewhere that 'Beast Butler' was one, and that was bad enough for her. "You know, whoever runs on the Democrat Ticket'll get the votes of ever' dislocated Southerner round here I reckon: there's me, 'cept I cain't vote, obvious, urr... Mr Pettigrew, Mr Crabbe, Mr Connolly, Mr McVay... oh, there's tons!" she offered, helpfully. "Arabella! Enough!" barked Fortner. There was a pause while everyone, employee and patron, was shocked at Franklin's imperative. Hiram shook his head. "I got no problem answering the young lady's question. It's a good one." He looked across the floor to where Arabella stood waiting for an answer. "So you're asking me what political affiliation I might be, a Democrat or a Republican? And that's a good question so I'll tell you. I'm an American. More to the point, I'm a Montanan. Your head is filled with worryin' about yesterday - Republican, Democrat. But look at it this way. We're all on a journey. We're all on a train headin' for better times. So don't pack a trunk of junk filled with yesterdays because tomorrow, tomorrow'll be filled with sunshine." It was near lyrical, and Hiram looked out at the slack-mouth audience. "You oughta put that to music," he said to Arabella. But Ben needed answering but he'd start from scratch. "Your name, again?"
  21. "Ooooh, you need Cookers for that: Northern Spy or Gravenstein. But please don't get me stated on apples: of all the subjects I can be boring about, that's the worst." he informed her, self-effacingly. "Northern spy? Dumb name for an apple if ya ask me," Caroline observed, "But sure, enough about apples then. Not like I have anything to add to the subject anyhow other then they taste good. Well, when they ain't all mushy or rottin'." They decided on what to eat, and the young officer mooted the idea of coming back again. "Oh so you think we're gonna be doin' this regular?" she raised one eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but it may be necessary for you to accompany me again until we've tried every dish on this menu... at least three times. It'll be long arduous hours of having to listen to me droning on about apples and balloons and remount requisition forms, but you'll be doing your patriotic duty and helping the Army out immeasurably." he babbled on. "Oh lordy, patriotic duty huh? Well I do consider myself a patriot. I thought Mr. Lincoln was a swell president. Too bad those poor loser rebs shot him." "If they'd have let women in that war, Ida joined. Course I was about 7-8 years old then," she grinned. @Javia
  22. Meanwhile, while the stage coach followed the winding road, unknown to those on it they were being watched. Up on the crest of a wooded ridgeline, a party of mounted men had a grandstand view of down below and they had spotted the stage clattering along. There were almost a dozen of them, an Arapaho war party. They were fresh from a successful ambush of another white mans' wagon. They had struck hard and fast, kiling it's occupants, two wasi'chu* wearing the blue coats. It brought them a pair of scalps but more importantly two more rifles and revolvers. One of the warriors had decided to keep a blue coat and was now wearing that ignoring the blood on it. Teestou (Strikes on Top) was the warrior who had organized this war party, a warrior of some renown in his village, he had strongly disagreed with the elders' decision not to join some of the other Arapahos who now fought alongside Sitting Bull and the Sioux. Even the great victory of the Sioux, Cheyenne, and others over the wasi'chu Yellow Hair at the Little Big Horn had not convinced the elders. So Teestou decided to go to war without their blessings and convinced the other members of the warband, a mix of men in their prime and a few older boys, to accompany him. Teestou was a bitter man, his sqaw and his two children had been killed by the wasi'chu last hunting season and he had burned for vengeance ever since. Now he would make them pay and bring glory to his name and all who rode with him. @Bongo
  23. This was not a trip Byron had really wanted to make. They were leaving Kalispell for good and really that was the only home he knew. He had friends in school, he had had to leave behind his dog and his father's horse. Well, Ma had sold the horse and the dog got given away to another farmer. Still, he'd never see either of them again. His mother said he needed to see this as a big adventure and she promised he would learn to like their new home. When they made one. But sitting up with the lady driver and the big bearded man was a whole lot more fun than being down in the passenger cabin. Oh he had been curious about the pretty young woman passenger but his mother said it was best not to talk with strangers unless spoken to. He wasn't stupid, he could tell his mother seemed just a bit nervous about that lady. No matter, girls were kinda boring. "So....you ever been held up by robbers?" he now asked, just like what happened in those penny westerns. Ross chuckled, "Well, not sure about Addy here but I was robbed once. Not on a stage though but in a back alley in Helena. I mighta had a few too many drinks though cuz I didn't even remember their faces." "Oh yeah? How many of em?" the boy was fascinated. "About thirty I think," Ross replied in a straight face, not sure just gullible the kid might be. Byron gave him a look, "Now you're fibbin'." "Yeah, son, supposin' I am. But hey, you want a true story of adventure, Addy here 'll tell ya one. She once killed a huge bear that had the whole territory scared. And she just did it with her knife. Tell the boy, Addy," Ross was grinning. @Bongo
  24. ooc: Don't wait on me, my chars are listening but neither have anything to say at the moment. Enjoying the thread though. 🙂
  25. Toole slowed his horse so as not to run him out, he had a ways to go, and in all actuality, there was no real rush. Not that he would be at the bar in the saloon for more that one drink, if that. Case trusted him, and that meant more to him than a little whiskey. No, he would be there to seek out information to take back. Of course Toole had no idea the bank had been robbed the night before, actually hours before and he would just miss Walt Shannon and company by a matter of hours, making their escape. And he would not know that there was a posse on their trail, or what they thought might be their trail. After all, right or wrong Sheriff Roy Middleton had to make an effort, and they really had no actual 'this is it' trail to follow. Soft sand left no discernible trail to follow, so it was a guess on his part, and he had no idea how accurate that guess was. However, as in all lucky guesses, there is always an element of error. Toole pulled up seeing the rising dust ahead of him. It meant that a group of riders was moving fast in his direction, could it be a posse out of Big Flat? If so, how in Hades had they stumbled on their trail? They were pushing hard, too hard to be cowboys, and he'd seen no sign of a herd behind him. He jerked the reins hard around, and put spurs to his mount who responded by leaping forward, which was now the way back to Case and the boys. His rough estimate of the size of the party was eight to ten me, in actuality it was half a dozen men, men invested in the town of Proctor, and men whose money had been taken in the dead of night and they wanted to get it back one way or another. Most were unaware that there had been a payroll for a mining company in that safe, as well as their savings and receipts from their businesses. They would see the rider moving away in a hurry and immediately would assume he was one of the robbers.
  26. As he looked at the facade of the building he too could visualize what Em was saying about the future. More and bigger buildings. More people, horses, cabs and carriages and whatever else the future might bring. None of which he was actually looking forward to, all a man needed was a good woman, a good horse, and plenty of land. Yet, he understood that Em like all of this 'civilization', with it's fancy dress, proper manners and such. Now, would she trade life in Montana for this? Had for him to guess, since all this was new to her and exciting. Suddenly he pulled himself away from such thoughts. "Believe you got a point, Em." As he opened the massive doors for her. "Place has grown since I was last here, just seems to keep gettin' bigger. Now this, this here's what I'd call a store. I mean have a look at alla this stuff!" It was true, countless vendors with products of all kinds, this could get real expensive, not that he really cared. @Bongo
  27. Earlier
  28. “I can’t just forget about her!” He burst out, jerking his hand away. "Well you just gotta!" she countered, grabbing it back again. “Arabella, she’s like a…a little puppy you’d find on the boardwalk! I can’t forget about her. "But there's stuff you don't know about her" Arabella said vaguely. She didn't know that Brendan already knew the horrible truth about the waiflike girl and the terrible injuries that scarred her body. She felt that if he knew, he would give up the idea of being with her... in that way. But she also felt it was not her place to reveal her secret. "And, you don't have to be the one to look after her, she's got Mr. Crabbe and..." "I’ve gotta do something ‘cause…well, ‘cause Crabbe said he’s dyin’!” Now it was Arabella's turn to let go of Brendan's hand, and she did so like it was diseased. "Lorenzo?!" she gaped. With that spectacular piece of news spread, he balled his hands up into fists and stared at the space between his boots. Arabella stood, dazed. "Lorenzo?" she repeated. She took a couple of breaths. Her head span and spots danced before her eyes. "I think I'm gonna be sick!!" she cried and threw herself down on the floor, getting her head over a pail just in time for it to catch the full return of her breakfast as she made the most horrendous heaving noises. "Huuuuurrghghg!!!" [pause] "Huuuuuurrghghg!!!" [pause] "I think that's all... Hurrgghghhh!" She eventually lifted her face from the bucket, looking a ghastly shade of pale green and the acrid smell of vomit filling the room. "Well, thanks! Don't bother holding my hair outta the way!!" she chided Brendan. Another girl would have thought to have done that for her, she reckoned. So, Lorenzo was dying? What would happen to Bridget? It was a poser all right: but in her heart of hearts, she couldn't see how a footloose and handsome cowboy like Brendan could look after a crippled and irreversibly simple-minded girl like Bridget for the rest of his, or her, life. With the best will in the world that adorable lost puppy would become a weight and a burden; Crabbe had said exactly that a heap of times; and a man like the handsome Mr. Connolly would attract other women, then what would become of his poor, half-form of a wife. "Sorry, that twern't nice for you to see!" she grimaced. Good job she wasn't trying to impress the cowpoke with her charms! @Bailey
  1. Load more activity

About Sagas

Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.

Connect With Us On

discord_white

If you would like to join the Sagas' Discord server or are already a member, click the image to open the Discord web application.

Site Credits

Founders: Stormwolfe & Longshot

Sagas' Rating

sagas-rating

×
×
  • Create New...