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  1. Today
  2. "It's just to your right. Would you like some help?" There! An offer, but Frances' choice. Miss Grimes flicked her stick to the right and struck the package, bending down to retrieve it. "Oh, thank you, Mrs Pike, I have it." she smiled picking up the package and feeling it over for tears. "I hope none of it is peeping out, it is some undergarments and an old dress that needed repairs. I can sew but it's a laborious process for me, and we will be on our way to Kalispell tomorrow." She managed to bundle up everything in one arm, packages, stick, and stuck out the other to somewhere near Emeline again. "Goodbye, I hope to see you in Kalispell when you return" she did not shy away from using the 'S' word "And I shall certainly look up Mrs Connolly at the Diner." @Bongo
  3. "Oh..." Emeline gasped as the girl dropped her package, and started to bend down to get it, but then hesitated, wondering if perhaps she even wanted help, or might feel insulted at the offer, that it would imply that she couldn't do for herself. "It's just to your right. Would you like some help?" There! An offer, but Frances' choice. @Javia
  4. Yesterday
  5. He took Frances' hand and gently shook it, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Grimes." "And you, Mr. Simons." she smiled sweetly. "If you are interested in joining the ladies group my aunt Rebecca Wentworth will be running, I can get her to send you an invitation or she can personally come to see you." "Oh, that sounds wonderful, I shall have to see if, er..." stammered the blind girl, and Crabbe could guess why. "And it doesn't cost anything to join, does it, Ben?" Lorenzo put in. "It sounds absolutely wonderful Mr. Simons" said Frances, now much more firmly "Please, just an invitation, I mean, just knowing when and when your Aunt would be holding the meetings would be all I need. I shall find it with no problem. What a kind thought, thank you, Mr. Simons." At the sound of Ben munching, she decided that she had probably outstayed her welcome at his tableside and said "I shall leave you to your repast, Mr Simons, thank you again." @JulieS
  6. "First off, proper grammar, it is 'like a blind person' not people," Clara pointed out , "And secondly we are here in this kitchen to cook proper meals for paying customers. That is a responsibility I take most seriously. Kindly be more....adult." "Ain't it funny, Clara, I'm always makin' mistakes like that when I talk in my regular voice, but when I do 'personations of folk, I can speak right if I needs to. Listen to this:..." the gangly, scruffy teenager suddenly stood up ramrod straight at the frying pan and repositioned the spachelor in her hand like she was holding a dainty quill, then started to speak in a refined, maybe even pretentious voice, very unlike her own, with no trace of a southern accent: "Arabella, would you please desist from precipitating those most distastful and less that utilitarian anecdotal confabulations. I find them most distressing!" All right, the words might not make sense, but anyone who knew Clara would have recognised the rhythm and tone of her voice. @Wayfarer
  7. Javia

    Late Nights

    "There ain't no 'we', Ara, this is between me n' the cowpoke here. You did not knock and I did not say you could come in," Caroline now pointed out as calmly as she could. "I know..." replied Arabella sadly "An' I know I promised to do all them things but..." she shook her head a little "when I heard all them terrible horrible rotten things what happened to you, I was just so shocked and sad and angry that some low down bastard could do that to my sweet, pretty, lovely little Caroline, I just... well my soul kinda flew out to you, and my big ol' feet foller'd right along behind it." She reached across and hugged her again and kissed her on top of her head again. Brendan then put in his two cents' worth. From there, he looked down at Caroline. "Hey. What I was tryin' to say...goin' to say...is that...I understand." "Good ta know, hon. Just wait a minute and we can continue this conversation once Ara leaves the room, shuts the door, and assures me she won't be listening in anymore. Got that?" Caroline eyed the teenager. Arabella nodded compliantly enough, but then twisted in the bed so she was face to face with Brendan, whom she stared straight in the eye. "But before I go, Brendan Connolly, you gotta tell me that you forgive me for all them silly things I said before and all them silly things I did cause even Caroline's forgiven me and she's the one I did and said them things to and we gettin' on all right now and I found out some stuff which made me change and I'm a better person now and it just ain't fair that you're still treatin' me so mean and, and..." she gulped down a sob and a lone tear appeared in the corner of her eye. "... I really want you to be my friend again..." she wiped away the tear "... please." @Bailey @Wayfarer
  8. There was an impressive silence that was finally broken when Priest eased back the hammer of his gun. CA-CLICK. "You should take his advice and listen to the gentleman. It would be a crime if such a pretty piano player got caught-up in any potential gunfire." "Oh! Do you think I'm pretty?!" started Arabella in reply "Just that... YUULLP!" she made the oddest sound as Caroline pulled her out of harm's way. "YOU! Get outta their way!" Caroline yanked at Ara's one upper arm and clamped down on the bony thing then glanced at the newcomer, "Sorry, we'll be right outta yer way. Just hold on a second!" With that she led the girl off back toward the piano and way out of the line of fire, glaring at her as she hissed, "You askin' ta get shot? I have no desire to lose me my piano player, hon!" "Aw, that's so sweet of you to rescue me from rescuin' Mr Grimes!" beamed Arabella, throwing her arms around Caroline. Grimes was now covered front and back by the levelled pistols of Fortner and Priest, he held up his hands in supplication "Hey, come on fellers, now this ain't fair is it? Two against one!" Fortner calmly asked the cowpoke, "I have strange habit." "Hope it ain't a dirty habit!" grinned Grimes nervously. If that was intended to amuse the man pointing a gun at his forehead, it didn't seem to work. "Do you have any habits?" Grimes frowned. What the Hell was this fancily dressed dude with the quick draw and the backup man raving on about? Habits, habits... ? "Er... chew a little?" he hazarded a guess in the form of a question. He somehow didn't think his addiction to chewing tobacco was what the stranger was driving at. @Preston @Wayfarer
  9. "So Simons, I hear there's to not only be a prize fight, but some talk of a stage play? Interesting." Lorenzo let Ben field this question, as it was aimed at him. He himself was always careful what he said to the bloodhound newspaper reporter and editor. Not that McVay ever printed lies: but he had a knack of printing what you did tell him in such a way that did quite give the impression of yourself that you had hoped for. Then, "Mister Crabbe, you involved in all of this? doesn't seem to be in your bailiwick. Well, maybe the fight." "Mr McVay, I'm sponsoring and running the whole shebang. And it's going to be an exciting and educational exhibition of the fine science of pugilism, too. We've got local talent in the form of Kalispell's very own Deputy Marshall, Mr. Charles Wentworth Junior taking on a wild young Irishman called Battling Bob Cullen. And it's a real grudge match, too!" he added on a whim. People were more interested in a fight if the two combatants were known to hate each other, rather than a couple of disinterested sluggers throwing hooks and crosses at each other. He'd have to invent a story as to why the two young men hated each other, probably something involving an argument over a girl, that always went over big with the general public. Phinn stood looking at Crabbe a long moment. "Crabbe, Simmons. You let me know the dates, be in the Union. We do posters and hand bills as well, if printed adverts strikes your fancy for either event." "Will do that, Mr. McVay!" nodded Lorenzo "'It pays to advertise' as they say. Soon as I'm sure of the exact time on the 6th, I'll send one of my people around with the details." 'One of his people!' Crabbe thought that sounded pretty grand. "Of course, there will be free entrance to the gentlemen of the Press who will no doubt wish to report 'pon the proceedings!" he added as a sweetener to a, hopefully, favourable piece on the event. A pretty cheap sweetener, too, as Phin was about the only 'gentleman of the press' in town. @JulieS @Flip
  10. She heard the kind stranger offered her condolences and Frances pulled herself together. She didn't usually cry like that, maybe it was Emeline's very kindness that had sparked her off. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, especially with your brother's help," Emeline tried to reassure her, "and there's a fine church that has an organ that I'm certain they would let you play on Sundays." And pianos in the saloons, but she didn't mention that, as those places weren't appropriate for a lady. "Oh, an organ!" beamed Frances, delighted "Most churches out West just seem to have an out of tune piano or a broken down old harmonium: an organ would be splendid." To be honest, her interest was as much pecuniary as religious or musical; when she and her brother had reached San Francisco after being burnt out of Virginia City, the kind proprietor of a Beer Garden on Jackson Street had allowed her to play a benefit concert on his quite newly installed Schoenstein pipe organ. The proceeds from that had kept the wolf from the door while she found more permanent work that she could do. Frances had found it a little disturbing that the best organ in the city was in a beer garden rather than a church, but pecuniary matters had taken precedence over morals; beggars can't be choosers; and she she had received the money gladly. At that point, Miss Eleanor returned with the packages. "Here you are, dear. Are you going to need help with these?" "Oh, please let me feel them." Frances said, standing up and holding out her free hand to where the proprietress's voice seemed to emanate from. "I can manage those, she nodded." Actually, they were a bit of a handful with her stick as well, but she didn't want to be offered help carrying them where she would then be obliged to give a tip. She immediately dropped one of the light, but awkward shaped packages on the floor and bent to feel down to the ground for it. Luckily, she didn't have tight corsets on. @Bongo
  11. "Mr Simons, the theatre manager?!" she beamed (word sure had gotten around fast) "How wonderful to meet you, Sir." "Yes, the theatre manager," Ben answered. It amazed him how fast things got around in town. In the future, he would probably be a bit more cautious when he was planning something. He took Frances' hand and gently shook it, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Grimes." Letting go of her hand, he returned to his breakfast and continued to eat while he thought of what to say next. He couldn't personally invite the girl to join the group as her brother might get the wrong idea. Frank Grimes with the wrong idea was something he really didn't want to contemplate. Turning to Frances, he smiled, hoping that she would hear the pleasantness of his speech that it caused, "If you are interested in joining the ladies group my aunt Rebecca Wentworth will be running, I can get her to send you an invitation or she can personally come to see you." @Javia
  12. Last week
  13. "Honeymoon? Congratulations, sir!" Charles smiled widely. "And so good of you to want to show the lady a wonderful time. Here, try the hat," he handed the hat to Pike, "I just mean that you can't be overly rough with it, but see for yourself...just hold it by one edge of the brim and pop the other against your palm. I can show you how to fold it." Handling the hat would give him a better feel for it, by design it was a bit more flimsy than a standard hat, the sides were softer and supported by the mechanism that opened it, but then, one didn't usually toss around top hats anyway, and this was much easier to store. Then came the clothing, fine shirts that fit well enough, trousers in styles that were slightly different, vests, coats with tails of varying lengths and lapel patters. "So, which do you fancy? I must say, they all look fine on you and alterations would be basic." @Flip
  14. Arabella nodded and got the eggs into the fry pan. "Oh dash!" she exclaimed "I done broke one o' the yolks! Oh well, guess she ain't gonna notice!" "It is fine, just cook them properly. Less chatter, more concentration on what you are doing please," Clara replied as she did her part in the breakfast prep. "Hey, Clara" she shouted over, cooking eggs was starting to bore her, "Let's both close our eyes and see if we can cook breakfast without bein' able to see, like a blind people!" "First off, proper grammar, it is 'like a blind person' not people," Clara pointed out , "And secondly we are here in this kitchen to cook proper meals for paying customers. That is a responsibility I take most seriously. Kindly be more....adult." Just this short time Ara had been in the diner now had definitely convinced Clara she would never hire the girl to be a regular employee.
  15. The overdramatic Arabella now inserted her scrawny frame right between Caroline and Brendan. While Caroline was grateful the girl cared about her she was also more than a little perturbed that it was evident Ara had been listening to the conversation and now had seemingly invited herself to stay. "Ara, hon, I appreciate the support but you........." that's all she got out when who should show up but the negro cook. Oh fer cryin' out loud. The big black cook just held up her hands and backed out of the room. Just lucky for her, the saloon girl didn't have anything in range to throw at her to chase her out. "I don't wanna know! I don't wanna know!" she repeated and disappeared, a horrified look on her face. "It'all right! He ain't got his diddler out or nuthin!" Arabella called after her, before sniffing back some of the snot she had produced crying over Caroline and let out a weak chuckle. "He he, I wonder what she though we was up to!" "There ain't no 'we', Ara, this is between me n' the cowpoke here. You did not knock and I did not say you could come in," Caroline now pointed out as calmly as she could. Brendan mean while had separated the distance and was sitting propped up against the wall, probably still feeling quite uncomfortable besides being embarrassed by the sudden appearance of the cook too, however brief. From there, he looked down at Caroline. "Hey. What I was tryin' to say...goin' to say...is that...I understand." "Good ta know, hon. Just wait a minute and we can continue this conversation once Ara leaves the room, shuts the door, and assures me she won't be listening in anymore. Got that?" Caroline eyed the teenager.
  16. Somehow despite Caroline's quick move, Arabella was faster and raced right into the midst of danger, that child really could be brainless sometimes Caroline thought. But frustrating or not, Caroline was fond of her and now caught up to the girl, planted between two armed men blathering as was her way. "YOU! Get outta their way!" Caroline yanked at Ara's one upper arm and clamped down on the bony thing then glanced at the newcomer, "Sorry, we'll be right outta yer way. Just hold on a second!" With that she led the girl off back toward the piano and way out of the line of fire, glaring at her as she hissed, "You askin' ta get shot? I have no desire to lose me my piano player, hon!"
  17. The morning air was not quite crisp, not quite warm, one of those mornings when a hint of the coming fall was in the air, not too odd for July, though the day would mature into a normal mid-eighties from the high fifties. But the day promised the normal sunshine drenched afternoon. For the present, the two men walking up the boardwalk to the Lickskillet Diner were enjoying the morning cool. "Life will take a different turn for the Town Council, as well as the Post Office. Looks like Nolan Ashworth takes over again." Speed observed. "He might seek to take Orr's spot on the Council." Phinn pointed out. A direct line out to the Evergreen, you're aware of that connection. Either him, or maybe Cole Latham, the other Steelgrave man in town. Well, that we know of." "I can see that, for sure. Give the old man a voice on the Council, and the knowledge of what's going on." Speed agreed, adding, "I expect maybe Elias might hold sway with some we're unaware of." "You know, you've a point, Speed. To be real honest about it, I have no idea who might be in old Elias' camp. Well, he ain't that old, but mean as he can be, I agree, he's the old man alright." They had reached the door of the cafe, Speed a step ahead stepped up and opened the door, both men stepping inside, hit with the smells of fresh cooked bacon, beefsteaks, and sausage frying. The heady aroma of boiling coffee, all the things that entice the appetite. As they moved into the room they both saw Ben Simmons and Lorenzo Crabbe at a table together. Speed smiled. "So Simmons, I hear there's to not only be a prize fight, but some talk of a stage play? Interesting." Then, "Mister Crabbe, you involved in all of this? doesn't seem to be in your bailiwick. Well, maybe the fight." Phinn stood looking at Crabbe a long moment. "Crabbe, Simmons. You let me know the dates, be in the Union. We do posters and hand bills as well, if printed adverts strikes your fancy for either event." @Javia@JulieS
  18. "All our possessions were destroyed: my clothes, the musical instruments I depended upon to earn our keep, and my precious, irreplaceable embossed books: the only ones I can read. Oh, oh Mrs Pike, my entire life was destroyed that day!" she sighed and the poor little blind girl, her shoulders heaving, dissolved in unstoppable, salty, sightless tears. "Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry." Emeline shook her head as she patted the girl's hand. "You would think that a house of God would be a safe refuge." But then, what good was a church when the community's livelihood was destroyed? "I suppose Kalispell has a wild side, too," she admitted, "most smaller towns out here do, you just have to be aware." If the poor girl wanted safety, she'd best stay in Portland, of maybe go to Seattle. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, especially with your brother's help," Emeline tried to reassure her, "and there's a fine church that has an organ that I'm certain they would let you play on Sundays." And pianos in the saloons, but she didn't mention that, as those places weren't appropriate for a lady. At that point, Miss Eleanor returned with the packages. "Here you are, dear. Are you going to need help with these?" @Javia
  19. "Easy? How so? I mean I seen 'em popped out with one hand." Barnabas stated. "Ifin' she fragile, well, ain't no sense wastin' money on it. Likely won't survive the trip." It was all show basically for Em because he could have ridden onto the Comstock dressed as he liked. Appearances were important to him for her sake, he was not trying to be something he was not, because that just was not how he lived. "See, this here trip, are honeymoon, well, I'll have some business to tend to in Virginia City, and up on Sun Mountain, well, I'm a partner in a pretty big affair. The idea is fer the wife to be treated like royalty, here, Frisco an' there afore we git back to ranchin' in Montana. So, that bein' said, I want ever'thing to be perfect fer her." And so began trying on clothes, @Bongo
  20. "Ah, yes, collapsible, we can do that. And silk plush...beaver is waning in popularity, harder to find and process," Charles explained. The the subject of 'Wigfall' came up and the man sputtered a bit. "Oh, um...there is a very distant relation, I believe, but I'm not aware of any correspondence." That he would speak of, anyway! "So, um, just give me a moment, and enjoy the drink." Quickly, the man scurried away, returning several minutes later with a selection of slacks, coats and vests in a variety of green, gold and burgundy brocade. "All right then, try these on and let me know what you fancy, then I can see what we need to do to make them fit properly. As for the sundries, those shouldn't be a problem." He held out a flattened hat. "And there's this, just be easy with it." @Flip
  21. Fortner spoke up. "I see you have a protector," he said quietly to the lanky lout. With the derringer in his right hand, he took his left and placed it on Arabella's shoulder and encouraged her to move. "Step aside, little lady, I'm not going to hurt your hero, at least if he listens to good advice." There was an impressive silence that was finally broken when Priest eased back the hammer of his gun. CA-CLICK. "You should take his advice and listen to the gentleman. It would be a crime if such a pretty piano player got caught-up in any potential gunfire." That settled, Fortner calmly asked the cowpoke, "I have strange habit. Do you have any habits?"
  22. "Now lemme ask ya this, which is the current fashion trend? When I was on the Comstock years back, 'course there was no real trend, men just sortta got themselves gussied up an' wore all manner of hat." Which, at the time of sudden wealth made perfect sense. "You could spot the new money easy enough." Prospectors suddenly hitting it big bought whatever struck their fancy. Sometimes the more garish the better. However, the big men, the 'Silver Kings,' John William Mackay, James Graham Fair, James Clair Flood, and William S. O'Brien, those giants dressed elegantly, much the like men in New York or Chicago. He knew their names, everyone did. He had met most of them at least once officially, or in certain settings after acquiring his one third interest in the Yellow Jacket mine, which had put him in their company. "Maybe one 'o them collapsible jobs. Em'll get a kick outta that. But, yer the tailor an' I'm a bit out of fashion of late, so I'll rely on you." Pike had dressed well for a brief period before he left the Comstock. Better gone than dead he figured. "Just need to look proper." He smiled, "Now this Wigfall that owns the place, he got relations up Montana way?" @Bongo@Javia?
  23. "He was my employee," Emeline chuckled, "when he wasn't working at his job as a deputy. And I've no doubt there is a fine man who will take care of you, although you seem to be pretty self-sufficient, and once you are settled in your own home, you'll do well." After all, once she learned her way around an area that didn't change, it should be fairly easy to find her function. Frances was surprised to hear that the lady's husband was a Sheriff or Marshall's Deputy, an important and responsible, if not always respected, office, but also a menial dish-washer under his wife's thrall. Mrs Pike must really wear the pants in that relationship, she supposed. Frances, to be fair, had rather conservative and conventional views on marriage: an institution that she had taught about, more than actually experienced in practice, due to her upbringing in a special school for the blind. She expressed her hope that the two of them might be friends in the future. Returning the girl's squeeze, Emeline smiled. "I'm the one who is lucky, I think. I had no plan to marry again, but then he came into my life...sometimes these things just happen without you knowing it until you do."[/i] The best kind of love, she supposed, when you were friends and it took time to realize you were more. "Then I must be an incurable romantic, for I hope to be quite swept off my feet by a 'tall dark handsome stranger'" she admitted, a little giddily. Gosh, why was she saying all this to a someone she had only just met? Probably because the kind-sounding lady in the dress shop was the first interested ear she had met with in quite some time. "And I'm certain we'll be great friends, I look forward to it." By the time they were back in Kalispell, Miss Frances and her brother should be well-settled. "Tell me about Virginia City, is it a nice place?" "Oh. Mrs Pike, it is a terrible, sinful place: as are all such mining cities that are founded by those who seek riches above all else, including decent moral Christian conduct. When the whole town burnt down last year, we moved our belongings to the church, hoping that it would be protected above all other buildings: but the evil men in charge of the fire-fighting turned all their attention to saving their precious lucre-belching mine shafts!" Her demeanour suddenly turned from righteous anger to a sort of despairing sag. "All our possessions were destroyed: my clothes, the musical instruments I depended upon to earn our keep, and my precious, irreplaceable embossed books: the only ones I can read. Oh, oh Mrs Pike, my entire life was destroyed that day!" she sighed and the poor little blind girl, her shoulders heaving, dissolved in unstoppable, salty, sightless tears. @Bongo
  24. "Never mind all that, we have another breakfast order, you do the eggs, I will do the bacon," Clara got to work. "Aw!" Arabella pouted, disappointed by the lack of gossip about the alien creature in the dining room. "And for your information..." Arabella gasped with excitement, dashing back to Clara clutching two eggs in her hands. "Yes???" "... her hand felt perfectly normal," the no nonsense young Mrs. Lutz pointed out what should be the obvious. "Hmmm, interesting!" frowned Arabella, fondling the hard smooth surfaces of the egg shells meditatively "I though they'd be sort of clammy, like she'd get the sweats 'cause she was worried about walking face first into a door or wall all the time." "She's sorta pretty, wonder what she looks like under that eye bandage thingamajig?" Arabella wondered out loud. "Say, when you go back out there, see if'n you can peep over the top of it and see what's underneath." "I most certainly will not, that would be extremely rude," scoffed Clara, "Get going on those eggs, you were the one who volunteered to help." Arabella nodded and got the eggs into the fry pan. "Oh dash!" she exclaimed "I done broke one o' the yolks! Oh well, guess she ain't gonna notice!" "Hey, Clara" she shouted over, cooking eggs was starting to bore her, "Let's both close our eyes and see if we can cook breakfast without bein' able to see, like a blind people!" @Wayfarer
  25. "Loudmouth! Stop before I shoot you ----- in the back." "Uh?" grunted Grimes, spinning and seeing the old man, some distance away, levelling a pistol in his direction. Who did he think he was, sticking his nose in? It was Hiram Priest, sitting comfortably at his table, a revolver in his hand aimed straight at the trouble maker. In the confusion caused by the former judge, Frank was able to swiftly and deftly slip a derringer from an inner pocket. Grimes raised his hands in supplication and grinned in a friendly, if strained, grimace. "Heeyyyy fellers, come on, two against one ain't fair. I was only joshin'! Can't you city fellers take a joke?" Ralph now spoke clearly but softly, "Grimes, if the man shoots you, it's no skin off my nose. You got yerself inta this, yer on yer own." The unpleasant loafer was now aided by an unlikely ally: Arabella, looking around to see if anyone was admiring her piano playing, saw what was happening and, sending her piano stool flying, ran over and, overcoming her usual cowardice, threw herself in front of Grimes so that the derringer was pointing straight at her forehead. "Oh! Don't you dare shoot Mr Grimes, you... you..." "Mr Fancy Pants" prompted Fortner's target, carefully shifting his position and crouching down a little so he was better protected by the girl's body. "Yeah, Mr Fancy Pants - don't you know he has a little sister to support and she's blind and everything! And he's her sole means of of support, and she came into the diner one time and I cooked her eggs and bacon and she ate it all up just like a real person. And also he's..." she jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the now virtually invisible Frank Grimes "... he's still recovering from where Top-heavy Tessie stabbed him repeatedly with that letter opener, and no one can understand it because who the dickens would write her a letter and besides I have to clean these floors and have you ever tried to get blood outta plain pine planking? No I bet you ain't!" This soliloquy was was terminated by Frank's voice, muffled by the back of Arabella's smock, sounding "You tell him, Reb!" @Preston @Wayfarer
  26. As soon as Clara entered the kitchen, Arabella was on her like a burr stuck to clothing. "What did she do? What did she say? Why's she talkin' to Mr Simons? What did Lorenz, er, Mr Crabbe say to her?!!" then she gasped out loud with the remembrance of something "Oh! And I saw when she held your hand! Did it feel funny?!!" "Never mind all that, we have another breakfast order, you do the eggs, I will do the bacon," Clara got to work. "And for your information, her hand felt perfectly normal," the no nonsense young Mrs. Lutz pointed out what should be the obvious. "She's sorta pretty, wonder what she looks like under that eye bandage thingamajig?" Arabella wondered out loud. "Say, when you go back out there, see if'n you can peep over the top of it and see what's underneath." "I most certainly will not, that would be extremely rude," scoffed Clara, "Get going on those eggs, you were the one who volunteered to help."
  27. "Please take my hand, I can't see yours." Frances said, holding out hers straight in front of her. "I can guide you to a table if you wish? My name is Clara," the young woman stuck out her hand and grasped the blind girl's. "Thank you, Clara. My name's Frances, Frances Grimes, I was hoping..." her stick whacked Crabbe on the ankle bone and the man let out an inadvertent "Ow!!" "Oh careful dear, you struck a customer," Clara pointed out without a hint of anger. Turned out this Miss Grimes knew Mr. Crabbe, small world. Clara just remained standing there then as the blind girl conversed with the man. Crabbe didn't take the whack personal and in fact kindly offered to pay for a breakfast for the young miss. The girl forgot all about her then, enchanted by Mr. Simons being described as a theatre manager? There was no theatre in Kalispell, Clara silently noted. Fortunately Crabbe rescued her from standing there by adding the young lady would take the same breakfast that she had earlier served the two men. "Very well," Clara turned and left them to their talk of the theatre (?) then headed back into the kitchen.
  28. The man seemed amenable to the price and produced a dollar coin for the whiskey, calling Ralph 'friend' during the transaction. Ralph simply nodded as he swept up the coin up, "Yer welcome, mister." That's when Grimes had to go butt in, he was one of the sort most towns and saloons seemed afflicted with, a loudmouth and troublemaker. He was worse when he was with a few others of his ilk and Ralph barely tolerated the man because he did at least buy drinks. Caroline had an aversion to the jasper too and avoided him whenever possible and the veteran saloon girl normally was good with almost any customer. But this well dressed fellow was new and apparently Grimes decided he would have some fun with the man. Ralph tensed for trouble but decided not to make the first move, just see what might happen. If Kalispell was lucky, the fellow would surprise everybody and make a swift end of Grimes, no loss to the town. More likely though the town wouldn't be that lucky. Insults came first but that didn't satisfy Grimes who suddenly went for his pistol. Ralph lowered his hands under the bartop and reached for the sawed off double barreled shotgun but turned out he did not need to. "Loudmouth! Stop before I shoot you ----- in the back." It was Hiram Priest, sitting comfortably at his table, a revolver in his hand aimed straight at the trouble maker. In the confusion caused by the former judge, Frank was able to swiftly and deftly slip a derringer from an inner pocket. Caroline pulled away from the table as fast possible just in case there was going to be an exchange of lead, not wanting to be right next to Hiram, so she could be completely out of the line of fire and headed straight for Arabella at the piano. At the first shot she was planning on tackling the girl to the floor, never knew where bullets might fly. Ralph now spoke clearly but softly, "Grimes, if the man shoots you, it's no skin off my nose. You got yerself inta this, yer on yer own."
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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.

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