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    • Montgomery the Pocket Gopher had proven to be lots of fun. Once out of his cage he had proceeded to run up Jemima’s arm and onto her head, and the homely looking girl had had to bend forward to allow Weedy to lift him off and give him a cuddle. Despite his vicious looking incisors, he never nipped at his human overlords, they who knew where the peanuts were kept!   Jemima had something else she wanted to show the diminutive lad, and beckoned him over to a glass tank, a miniature version of the one that Lamia slept in. She pointed to a small, anonymous looking spider in there, sitting grumpily under a bit of decorative tree bark.   “See that, that’s a fiddleback spider: they’re the most poisonous spiders ever. And if it bites you a great big ulcer grows on you and you die a horrible screaming death, foamin' at the mouth and blood spurtin' out of your ears and nose!" she said proudly, as if she were personally responsible for the tiny animal’s toxicity.   “And one time she escaped and we had to look all over for her, and eventually we saw her on the back of the Professor’s neck! And Mrs O’ screamed and near fainted, but I got a jam jar and coaxed it on in there and the Professor said I was the bravest girl he’d ever met!”     @Bongo
    • 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."   F. Falmer Browne gave an indulgent smile to this but said nothing. He would have to admit to himself that when he had first lain eyes on Miss Adelaide Chappell, now sat before him in all the becoming trappings of a woman, virtually dressed as a man on her wagon-driving expeditions in and out of town, he had wondered. True, male attire was handier for her trade, but she seemed to go that way at most hours of the day, except for very formal functions like the Ladies (so called!) Society Meeting of this morning.   When he had lived in the vast metropolis of New York, that Sodom and Gomorrah of these disunited United States, he had seen two types of women dressed as men: the first were demimondes of the stage, who dressed as ‘boys’ in fanciful tights to merely titillate their audiences (usually successfully, Browne had to admit) with a well-shaped leg, and secondly, some women of the more bohemian quarters who dressed as men because, apart from their physical form, they were men, in their own minds.   Walking with a friend down Broadway, he had seen two such women, walking arm in arm, and his friend had remarked “See those creatures, Browne? Disgusting! God must weep when He sees such sinful animals on parade. The police should arrest them and some Judge put the filthy animals to hard labor on the treadmill.” Browne had, cowardly he now knew, consented, but really wondered if it was not God Himself who had played such a rotten trick on them. At least in New York, teeming with every nation and type under the Sun, two such ‘creatures’ might find each other. For any man or woman ‘that way inclined’ out here in a small town like Kalispell, such proclivities must result in a lonely and loveless life indeed.   Addy’s talk of Jay Ryker and their evident love for one another did Browne good to hear, despite a slight pang of jealousy: it meant that this lovely woman was not destined for a life of loneliness. There must be others in town, though, hidden and trapped in their unusual sexuality, who were destined to ever drink from the well of loneliness.
    • "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
    • "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
    • "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
Weedy

Wyatt Has a Caller

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Mature Content: No

With: W&W
Location: The Ranch and Environs
When: May/ 1875
Time of Day: Morning

 

content-divider.png

 

Finally! 

 

Even though it had only been a few weeks, to Weedy it seemed like it had been months since the dance, when the boys had first schemed get together out at Wyatt's dad's farm, a place far more interesting than anything in town, at least to Weedy's thinking.  He'd pestered Miss Addy for days, until the arrangements had finally been made and the date set.

 

And Addy had even offered to let him ride her mare, Arabesque, so he had a horse while he was out there.  Of course, she insisted on escorting him as far as the road to the farm, since she had a delivery to make 'out that way', and she'd meet him when it was time to come home.  Still, he had a horse, and a friend, and no school...how good could it get?!

 

The farm was only a few minutes from the crossroads, and when it came into sight, Weedy gigged Arabesque into a gallop -- may as well make a grand entrance -- then pulled the mare to a sliding stop in front of the house.

 

"Wyatt!  I'm here!"

 

@Wayfarer

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From inside Wyatt heard the horse's approach before Weedy even let a yell out. He had been sitting at the kitchen table working on his arithmetic problems. He hated numbers. Clara helped him with it sometimes but his big sister had this annoying habit of saying  "you need to do this yourself too, I am not about to do it all for you". And yet some folks thought she was such a good sister. She had her faults.

 

Dropping his pencil he scrambled to the door then opened it. Sure enough, it was Weedy and on a fine horse too! Wyatt stepped out, he was barefooted but didn't pay that no mind.

 

"Hey, so you made it!" he stated the obvious.

 

"How long can you stay for?" he absolutely needed to know this important detail.

 

Wyatt.jpg

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"Hey!"  Grinning, Weedy slid off the mare then loosened her cinch and tied her to the rail with the lead rope on her halter.  "Two days, Miz Addy says.  And she let me use her horse, and she rides double, if you don't have one to ride." 

 

He was really excited, it hadn't been often that he'd had a chance to just play with a kid his own age, and have the whole of the outdoors, a horse, a pond, a stream, plenty of trees...it was a boy's dream!

 

"I have my stuff, Miz Addy made me bring my toothbrush, and she sent some bread for your pa."  He grinned.  "Don't worry, she didn't make it, she got it from the Lickskillet!"

 

@Wayfarer

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"Two whole days!" Wyatt's eyes went wide, "That's great!"

 

As for the horse, Wyatt was a bit jealous as he admitted, "Pa won't let me ride ours yet. He said maybe with my next birthday."

 

"I have my stuff, Miz Addy made me bring my toothbrush, and she sent some bread for your pa."  He grinned.  "Don't worry, she didn't make it, she got it from the Lickskillet!"

 

Wyatt chuckled, "That bad huh? Then who knows, my sister probably baked it. She works there you know?"

 

"Anyhow, we are gonna have a great time. Why don't you get that bread and bring it inside. We can put it in the kitchen," he suggested.

Wyatt.jpg

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"Yeah, sure!"  Weedy dug in the saddle pack and pulled out two bundles wrapped in clean cloth.  "I know Clara, she's really nice...I help out there sometimes, and she and Miz Emeline will give me cookies and things."  Sometimes, the work was actually worth it, too!  

 

"I want to see the house, too!"  Now that he had something to actually compare it to, Weedy wanted to see what a real farm house was like.  "Do you have your own room?"  It would be pretty bad, he thought, to have to share a room with a girl!  But Wyatt didn't smell all rosy, so probably not!

 

"We should ask if we can sleep on the trail!"  They had the horse, after all, they could ride out a ways and make a camp, with a fire and everything, and sleep under the stars!  Of course, that would be after the swimming and climbing trees and exploring and maybe some hunting...

 

He wanted to make the most of the visit, even if his plans were pretty ambitious!

 

@Wayfarer

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Weedy produced the freshly baked bread, if Wyatt begged enough, they could probably eat it with some of the butter from their very own cow. Clara tended to ration the butter though not everyday use. This was definitely a special day though.

 

"I know Clara, she's really nice...I help out there sometimes, and she and Miz Emeline will give me cookies and things," Weedy declared.

 

"She ain't always so nice, she is kinda strict but maybe she'll be on her best behavior cuz you're company," Wyatt didn't want Weedy to go overboard on Clara.

 

"I want to see the house, too! Do you have your own room?"  the boy sure was curious.

 

"Come on then, we can go inside for awhile. And nope, when we were younger, me n' Clara shared a bed but then Pa decided she needed her own bed cuz she is a young lady now. You know what he means," Wyatt answered as he waved him to follow him on inside.

 

"I sleep up in the loft, you can't stand up in it but it's fine and dandy for sleeping," he added.

 

Wyatt deliberately did not answer Weedy's trail sleeping suggestion, he knew what Pa and Clara would think of that one. NO.

 

@Bongo

 

 

 

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"Wow, a loft!"  Well, Weedy knew about lofts in barns, but not in houses, and it sounded pretty exciting!  So much that he completely forgot about camping (squirrel!). 

 

"This is really nice," he declared, looking around as they entered the house.  The house that Miz Addy had bought for them was good, and he even had his own room, but they hadn't really been in it long enough for it to feel like home.  But Wyatt's house had all those personal things that made it lived in, what he imagined a real house should be like.

 

"Girls smell all flowery, I wouldn't want to share a room with one."  Well, except Miz Addy, who smelled like horses and fresh hay, except recently she'd been smelling a bit like flowers too, but he wasn't sure what that was about!

 

@Wayfarer

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Wyatt led him into his home, it wasn't big but it was clean and comfortable. Wyatt was quietly proud of it and pleased that Weedy was duly impressed.

 

"Girls smell all flowery, I wouldn't want to share a room with one," declared the boy.

 

Just then Clara emerged from her father's bedroom with some bedding in her arms.  She had heard the boys chattering outside and now even more clearly once they were inside.

 

"Hello Weedy, do not fret, you shall not be sharing a room with one."

 

"Hmm, do I smell bread?"

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"Yes, Miss Clara."  Grinning, Weedy handed her the bread.  She was at that awkward age for a boy, that she was too old to refer to by her given name, but really wasn't so old as to be a 'Ma'am'!

 

"Miz Addy sent some bread," he explained, holding out the package, then telling Clara what he'd told Wyatt.  "She got it from the Lickskillet, so she didn't cook it."  He grinned.  "She makes black bread!  And then the whole room smells burnt for a week!"  It was safe to say that, since she wasn't here!

 

@Wayfarer

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"Oh stop with the 'miss'," Clara tutted, "My Christian name will do just fine."

 

The young lady then accepted the bread, "Why that is certainly kind of Addy. You be sure to tell her thank you from the Redmonds now."

 

Wyatt laughed at the black bread story. Clara, as was her wont, just barely cracked a hint of a smile at best.

 

"There actually is a black bread. I had some once in Pennsylvania, a woman from Russia made it. But sounds like that is not what Addy made. Oh well, we all have our strongpoints and weaknesses no doubt, Addy more than makes up for her lack of culinary skills," Clara explained.

 

"Cul narry?" Wyatt raised one eyebrow, her sister always used fancy words he didn't understand.

 

"Cooking...baking skills," the girl clarified.

 

Wyatt nodded, "Yeah, right. Anyhow, Weedy, should we go do some stuff?"

 

The boys were certainly not about to spend a whole lot of time with his boring sister.

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"Why that is certainly kind of Addy. You be sure to tell her thank you from the Redmonds now."

 

"Yes, Miss...Clara."  Well, she wasn't a teacher or anything, and she'd given her permission to just call her 'Clara', so now he'd just have to get used to dropping the 'miss'.

 

"There actually is a black bread. I had some once in Pennsylvania, a woman from Russia made it. But sounds like that is not what Addy made. Oh well, we all have our strongpoints and weaknesses no doubt, Addy more than makes up for her lack of culinary skills," Clara explained.

 

"And cooking surely isn't for Miz Addy," Weedy chuckled.  And Clara was right, people were better at some things and not so better at others, and that was what made people work.

 

"Cul narry?" Wyatt raised one eyebrow, her sister always used fancy words he didn't understand.

 

"Cooking...baking skills," the girl clarified.

 

Glancing at Wyatt, Weedy shrugged.  Why not just say 'cooking' if that was what you meant?  But there were plenty of adults who used bigger words than they had to, but at least for Clara, he didn't think it was to show how smart she was.

 

Wyatt nodded, "Yeah, right. Anyhow, Weedy, should we go do some stuff?"

 

"Yes!  That's why I'm here.  I've never been on a farm, I want to see everything!"  And he reckoned there was a lot to see, even if Wyatt didn't think so.

 

@Wayfarer

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"Yes!  That's why I'm here.  I've never been on a farm, I want to see everything!"

 

"Well then, we'll be back later, Clara. In time for lunch," Wyatt then led his friend outside.

 

"I reckon we could start with the barn. It ain't a big one but we keep our plow horse in there and we also got a milk cow, Bessie, but she is eatin' grass right now in pasture," the boy started talking about the animals and did not stop until he had also covered the chickens in the coop too.

 

"We got another horse too for riding but Pa took it. He should be back for lunch too," he explained.

 

Wyatt.jpg

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Weedy was impressed with the cow, although there were chickens in town, and of course, he'd lived in the Millegan Stage barn with Miz Addy off and on for a while, and it was much bigger than the one here.  Still, it was fun to see what a regular farm barn was like, and to actually see hens sitting on their eggs.

 

"Can you milk the cow?" he asked, peering through the fence at the beast, "I've never seen that done, is it hard?"  It actually seemed a little yucky to touch cows' teats, and he wondered if they were slimy, which would make it all the better!

 

@Wayfarer

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Weedy was thrilled about Bessie the milk cow, which kind of amazed Wyatt being a farm boy. To him it was just a cow. But an important one to the family.

 

"Can you milk the cow?" he asked, peering through the fence at the beast, "I've never seen that done, is it hard?"

 

"Oh of course we can milk it...........oh you mean me myself? Sure I can, I have to do it sometimes but all of us can milk her," Wyatt answered.

 

"It's not really hard, nope. Once you get the hang of it. Besides cows like being milked. If you didn't milk'em, the cow gets really upset...well unless a calf drinks it. But we don't have any calves. "

 

Wyatt.jpg

 

 

 

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"They get mad?"  Weedy couldn't imagine a cow being mad about anything, much the less why they'd get upset because they didn't get milked, but what did he know?

 

"Yeah, show me what to do, then I can try."  Addy had always encouraged him to try new things and learn what he could, so he may as well give it a go.  "Does she have a name?  Can I pet her?"  After all, if he was going to be milking her, he probably should be able to pet her, right?

 

@Wayfarer

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"Well, not mad exactly. More like upset. They're holding in a lot of milk in those udders," Wyatt tried to explain.

 

"Yeah, show me what to do, then I can try," Weedy seemed eager, "Does she have a name?  Can I pet her?"

 

"Alright we can do that. There's a pail in the barn," Wyatt started that direction, "Her name is Bess or Bessie. Clara said it is short for Elizabeth. Who cares, right?"

 

They entered the barn, "You can pet her. She don't bite. Just never stand directly behind a cow. They can kick but also, they sometimes just lift their tails and out comes all that....well, you know...cow shit."

 

He could use that word now because neither Clara nor his father were in earshot.

 

Wyatt.jpg

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Weedy laughed and nodded.  "Same with horses, too, gotta watch their tails!"  Fortunately, Weedy had never been pooped on, but there had been some close calls!  "Miz Addy says with hoses, you either stay right up behind them or way back, so if they do kick, it's not so bad."

 

But, of course, it was best just to stay clear of the backside at all!  So, Weedy went up to the front, where he stroked the cow's nose.  "Hello, I'm Weedy, and we're going to milk you, so don't get mad, all right?"

 

Sure, she didn't understand what he was saying, but she'd understand the tone.  He glanced at Wyatt.  "How much milk does she have?  Does she have it every day?"  Like, how long did it take to fill up again?

 

@Wayfarer

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"She's right, I know about horses. Pa said he saw a man get kicked in the head once by one and he lost his eye, yuck!"  Wyatt declared, boys his age loved that gory stuff though least in their imaginations.

 

Wyatt was bemused to watch the other boy introduce himself to the cow, "Don't expect Bess to answer ya."

 

"How much milk does she have?  Does she have it every day?"  Like, how long did it take to fill up again?"

 

Gee, the boy sure had enough questions. Wyatt now pulled up a small stool and a bucket then made his way toward the back flank.

 

"A lot. And yep, every day. If they don't make milk they're pretty well useless and we'd probably just have to butcher her and eat her," he answered as best he could.

 

"Alright, I will do it first, you watch me, then you can try, it's not that hard," Wyatt explained as he plopped down on the stool.

Wyatt.jpg

 

 

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"I know she won't answer."  Weedy rolled his eyes, then grinned, moving up behind Wyatt to get a good view of what was being done.  And Wyatt was a good teacher, explaining what he was doing so that when it was Weedy's turn to try, he actually did a pretty decent job of it.

 

With the bucket reasonably filled and the cow reasonably emptied, Weedy looked at his friend.  "That's better than mucking stalls, that's certain!  I don't know what's worse, chores or homework.  But we're going to have fun, right?"  Of course, to the boy who lived in town, just about anything out in the country would be fun!

 

@Wayfarer

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Weedy turned out to be a good learner, Wyatt didn't even have to say much in the way of pointers as the other boy did a nice job of hitting and filling the bucket. He was also jubilant.

 

"That's better than mucking stalls, that's certain!  I don't know what's worse, chores or homework.  But we're going to have fun, right?" 

 

"Homework!" Wyatt had a ready answer to that one, "especially arithmetic."

 

Next he showed the boy the chicken coop, "We let run free for awhile when we first got here and bought 'em but then a fox or weasel or somethin' started stealing and killin' em. So we had to make a fence. We like fresh eggs, how do you n' Addy eat yours?

 

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Weedy had seen chicken coops in town, although not this big, and chickens were...well, they didn't hunt or attack anything, although that would be interesting...killer chickens!

 

He laughed to himself, then answered, "Miz Addy can cook eggs pretty well...boiled or scrambled or fried."  He laughed.  "She says that if you just have them with bacon, it doesn't matter how bad they're cooked, and I think she's right!"

 

Actually, until Miz Addy had taken him on as her charge, he'd tended to find breakfast elsewhere.  "Miss Clara makes good eggs, and flapjacks, too.  She and Miz Emeline give me breakfast sometimes if I sweep or pull weeds."  He laughed.  "It's worth it, they have real good food!"

 

@Wayfarer

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 "Miz Addy can cook eggs pretty well...boiled or scrambled or fried."  He laughed.  "She says that if you just have them with bacon, it doesn't matter how bad they're cooked, and I think she's right!"

 

"I love'em any of those ways. And bacon too, who could look at a pig and think they tasted so goshdarn good?" Wyatt nodded.

 

"Miss Clara makes good eggs, and flapjacks, too.  She and Miz Emeline give me breakfast sometimes if I sweep or pull weeds."  He laughed.  "It's worth it, they have real good food!"

 

"I will give my sister credit, she is a real fine cook. Which means Pa doesn't have to cook, probably a good thing," Wyatt smiled.

 

That also left Wyatt with a perfect opening for his question, "Hey, how did you get your name, Weedy? That can't be your real name? Aren't you supposed ta have a saints name?"

 

westrpgson2.jpg

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"I guess because Miz Addy said I was as big as a dandelion weed."  Weedy shrugged.  "That was a few years ago, so I guess that was true, especially compared to the horses!"

 

He could remember those first days, when he'd wander into the barn and Miz Addy would give him a comb to work on the 'feathers' that decorated the massive hooves, or she'd even set him on the broad back of one of the horses and let him watch her work.

 

"Then she said I was growing as fast as a weed!"  He shrugged again.  "My name is really Porter James, but I don't think there's a Saint Porter."  Well, he wasn't Catholic, so what did he know about Saints?  "Is there a Saint Wyatt?"

 

@Wayfarer

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Wyatt grinned, "Well you grown some since then. Me, I'm hoping I get at least as tall as Pa. And taller than Clara but then she ain't short."

 

Weedy revealed, "My name is really Porter James, but I don't think there's a Saint Porter." 

 

"Porter, I can see why you prefer Weedy," obviously Wyatt wasn't thrilled with the other boy's name.

 

 "Is there a Saint Wyatt?" Weedy now asked.

 

"Course there is!  Yer lookin' at him!" Wyatt poked himself in the chest and gave a Cheshire Cat smile.

 

 

  • Made Me Laugh! 1

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Weedy rolled his eyes, giving Wyatt a playful shove.  "Don't you hafta be dead or something to be a saint?"  He wasn't sure, he wasn't Catholic, and they were the ones with the saints, at least he thought so.  "And you have to do something great," he continued the challenge.  "So, what was the miracle you did?  Milking cows don't count!"

 

@Wayfarer

 

 

 

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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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