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By Arabella Mudd · Posted
"Oh, well certainly. If you would rather talk there. Anyplace is fine with us," Clara would have agreed to discuss it even if he had suggested the middle of a river. She just wanted to get it done! The four of them shuffled back to the rear of the church and through the little-used back door, into the main part of the building where the pews were neatly rowed and the pulpit stood empty at the far end. The man then offered, "I could fix something to drink? Tea perhaps?" "No thank you, we do not wish you to have to make a fuss on our account," she gently shook her head in the negative. “Ooh, It’s no fuss Clara! I’ll fix that, Brother.” Arabella gushed obsequiously “You three will want to talk privately.” She would also, perhaps a little too optimistically at this point, fetch out a blank marriage certificate, for she knew where Pastor Evans stored them. In fact, she’d had a good root through most of the drawers and cupboards in his little office, off the vestry, and found some amazing and interesting stuff. Her favourites were a collection of pictures in a little book which, she assumed, the good Pastor must have confiscated off some sinful parishioner in the past. @boshmi @Wayfarer -
By Lorenzo Crabbe · Posted
"All right, if this has anything to do with getting rid of ol' Klutz, then I'll do it," he said in a slightly slurred tone. The whiskey was now starting to affect his speech, "Clara's gotta see that I'm the better man." Crabbe nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping to get out of this situation, but he had made a living, the last six years of his life, by exploiting other men’s passions, and this young feller had passion in spades. Lorenzo recognised it for the sort of dangerous, jealous, twisted, brooding passion that so often haunts the hearts of men where women are concerned, and knew it would have to be handled with kid gloves to benefit himself any. “Problem is, he’s ensorcelled her with these here love poems.” Lorenzo slyly took up a theme that Charlie himself had mentioned. “You attack him, she’ll just cleave tighter to the stupid lookin’ bastard.” He’d never seen this Klutz feller, but it didn’t harm to insult him in Charlie’s presence. “We gotta work on her.” He said, thinking fast. “First of all, we gotta make you a more attractive proposition, er, make her kinda jealous of you, see? Make ol' Clara see you in a better light. Hmmm, you know any girls? I mean, not like Arabella, pretty girls.” @JulieS -
By Arabella Mudd · Posted
"Well." Thomas declared, sitting upwards in his chair. "I wonder what Arabella has gotten up to. I do hope I haven't complicated anything by bringing her along. Your wife seemed... er... unenthusiastic about her presence." As if on cue, there was a crashing noise from the distant kitchen and Arabella’s voice sounded an “Ooops!”, but nonetheless, the two women presently appeared, carrying coffee and cake. “Now, how are you two boys getting along?” asked Arabella, as if Thomas and Gideon were two five-year olds on their first playdate. Mrs Evans attended to the domestic stuff while Arabella jumped up and down, plexing her fingertips together with excitement. “What do you want me to play on the harmonium, fellers?!” she asked excitedly, just hoping it wasn’t that well-known mondegreen “Bringing in the Sheep” which required notes that the poor old instrument could no longer sound. Arabella always had to substitute other notes in the same chord which made her playing sound like she’d invented jazz forty years too early. @JulieS @boshmi -
By Adelaide Chappel · Posted
"Well, so long as he's ridin' a white horse, I reckon there could be some quarter given." Addy shrugged, thinking that armor would be cumbersome anyway, and that she wouldn't want to be burdened by something that made it hard to function. "Glad that armor ain't somethin' they wear anymore, although I'd truly appreciate seein' a man in it...an' a horse, too. Can't imagine how a horse can move in all that metal." Her smile was a bit wistful as she added, "There's times I wonder if I wasn't born in th' wrong time an' th' wrong britches." -
By Robert Cullen · Posted
He did not exactly enjoy gutting and cleaning an animal but it was a necessity out here but decided to just shrug. Not a great topic of conversation with a young lady anyway. She then asked him about his marksmanship and he gave her an honest answer. "Why, that's impressive enough on it's own." she said encouragingly. "I've never shot anything. Heck, no Leane ever has. Not for lack of fighting though. Da sure knew how to punch a feller. I suppose it requires a bit less thinking." Robert wasn't sure he should bring up his own experience with fighting. But once more he opted for honesty. "Oh, I don' know about that. You know they call boxin' a science in some places? I have done some prize fighting on occasion. Purely for money it was. I needed the money. So I have boxed some. You don wan' ta just rush in swingin'. You have to keep a clear head," he launched into a bit of explanation. "If you can avoid bein' hit or takin' much punishment, you got a better chance of winnin' and besides no one likes to get hurt," he grinned. And they now had reached his humble home. It was really like he said, a simple one room shack and an almost primitive looking ramshackle fence big enough to hold a single mule who contentedly stared at their approach. ooc: Not saddled of course. Not thirty yards away was a meandering creek, he had already been up and down quite a few miles of that stream panning for gold with no real luck. But at least it was a good source of fresh water. "I suppose I should admit I ain't much of a carpenter and for even that I had some help to put 'er up," he confessed.
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