Robert sat there chewing on his tongue, frustrated that a law man standing right there in front of him couldn't do something and then even worse talked about how precious women and horses were to men in these parts.  The only thing precious about them as far as Rpbert was concerned was the money they could bring and when the redhead piped up and said Flossie had a place there, he very nearly lost his temper again but he chose to ignore her and focused on Battles.

The talk of going back inside brought a bit of a grin to the old man’s face.  Now wouldn't that be fun, going back inside without that personal invite and escort.  Talk about rubbing it in the big brute’s face!  That alone was worth toning down but add the whiskey in the mix and Robert nodded with another of those big grins.  ”I think that sounds mighty fine, Mister,” the old fart replied with a chuckle.  ”Go on an’ get down, Girl.  Help me git inside an’ then go fetch me somethin’ t’ eat.  Them biscuits an’ gravy you made’r gone already.”

Flossie had kept her hands clenched tight in her lap but had looked to Molly like she’d give just about anything for a place.  Molly could see the resignation in the blonde though, knowing she'd be forced to head out when her father decided it was time to move on again.  Robert’s nudge brought her out of the little daydream of a decent life and after a scowl from the old man hurried to get out of the wagon and then stood close and supported Robert as he worked around favoring the one knee.

In spite of how he often treated her, he was her father and when she heard the hiss of pain as he stepped down on that bad leg she fell easily into her caretaker mode.  Ducking under his arm and supporting him, she spoke softly to him.  ”After I get you something to eat, I’ll mix up your joint salve and wrap your knee.  That usually seems to help.”  The old man didn't say anything for a moment, not liking how he looked weak but then he nodded.  "Aye, you do that," he harrumphed and then looked at Battles.  "Lead the way, Friend," he said with renewed joviality.

"You stop right there, both of you," Molly called out as she tipped her chin and strode the distance that separated her from the lawman who was issuing invitations that he had no right to extend. "Missus Lee decides who is and isn't welcome in her saloon, not you," she snapped, and there was smoke in Molly's husky voice as she emphasized who was and wasn't in charge. "When Missus Lee isn't here then I'm the one decidin' . . . you hear me?" she said fuming.

Although Molly was sympathetic toward Flossie and appreciative of how the Texas ranger was attempting to placate the old man, she was not about to be undermined by anyone. "Flossie is welcome to come in out of the sun and wait, but that old man is not crossing Missus Lee's threshold without invitation of the establishment, and he doesn't have one, me boyo . . . not even close!" Molly's Irish temper was high as she glared into Battle's piercing blue eye. She was so near and up-in-his-face that Battles could breathe the scent of lavender in her luxuriant hair and see the golden sparks that fired her eyes.

"If you encourage that nasty piece of baggage to push his luck it will be on you, buster . . ." Molly almost poked the ranger in the chest with her finger, but at the last moment she snatched back her hand, "And when Jamie is finished showing him the error of his ways then I'll take up my grievance with you."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:56, Thu 15 Aug 2013.

"Why you uppity little whore! Robert bellowed and standing up at his fullest height shoved Flossie away from him, the poor woman landing hard on her pert backside in the dirt.  "This is why women shouldn't have any sort of privileges.  Ye jus' belong on yer back givin' a man his pleasure an' cookin' and women's work.  I taught her right," he said pointing a finger at Flossie.  "She knows her place an' don' take much t' remind her anymore."

He turned to Battles and shook his head.  "I ain't settin' foot near that an' she an' her Missus gonna be sorry when my Flossie starts workin'.  Cryin' shame a little whore messed up a good deal jus' 'cuz she don't like me.  Some'un needs t' give 'her a few lashes, teach her a lesson," he snarled.

Flossie blanched when he spoke of lashes, already so disappointed after getting her hopes up that she just sat there in the dirt.  Her chest was tight and she stared blankly up into the sky.  Things just kept going from bad to worse and she jerked when her father yelled at her again.

"Get yer ass up off the ground, Girl!  Goin' back to that place like I should'a done already instead'a thinkin' some people might give ye a chance.  Damn this knee," he grumbled as he turned back toward the wagon, continually grumbling about the little upstart while Flossie got up and brushed the dirt off of her.  She couldn't look at the others around, instead kept her eyes on her father as she moved to help him again but kept a quiet dignity about her as if none of this had hurt her.

Oh Hell! was the first thought that came to Battles. Damn a woman that didn't know her place or the way of things. Worse yet, damn a stubborn Irish woman, which the redhead clearly was by the accent that she lost control of when she was angry, when she ain't got the sense to know when a fight is over and has to push things to the boiling point!"



Battles had to admit the girl had spirit even if she was the cause of more trouble than was needed. Battles admired fire and spirit in a woman, but when they went to far like the redhead was doing they were apt to get somebody hurt. Same as a young buck trying to look like a man before his time, they thought they knew everything even though they hadn't lived yet. Worse. They thought they had something to prove. More than one young man was dead and buried because he thought he could prove himself against John J. Battles. They hadn't lived yet either and they'd lost their chance to.

A few were fast. A few were damn good shots. None of them had lived long enough to know better about what they were doing. Battles had the scars to show for thier recklessnes. They were to damn young!

Battles would have grabbed the redhead by the arm and forcefully marched her ass straight back into the saloon had not the old man proved to be even dumber than her.

All stupity couldn't be attributed to youth.

Some people never learned despite thier years.



Battles was pissed at the redhead to be sure. She should have just followed his lead and there would have been an end to any trouble. The poor young blond girl, Flossie, may have had a brief respite from her ill treatment with somebody to look after her. But people like the young redhead always thought they had something to prove! Damn them! People like the young blond always payed for the arrogance of people like the redhead!

To prove his thought correct the poor young blond was pushed to the ground by her own father. His lip curled as he looked to the arrogant redhead but before he could turn to help the young blond Flossie up, she was already on her feet and brushing herself off. And she was actually moving to help the old man back into the wagon.

Hadn't he just told the old bastard how most men in the west treated women and expected others to treat them the same way? Hadn't he explained most men wouldn't put up with such?

Battles turned quickly to the old man and put a hard boot to his ass as he tried to climb aboard his wagon!  The old man bounced hard off the wagon before his daughter could catch him, but despite his obvious bad leg he kept to his feet and stared daggers at the Texas Ranger!

Oh this was one tough old bastard Battles thought to himself. His cowering act in the saloon a few moments ago had been just that. An act.

Battles eased his right hand over the staghorn handle of his right Colt.

"You're under arrest for assault, Old Man. Don't even think about giving me trouble while we walk to the Marshal's office."

Slowly Battles backed to his horse without taking his eyes off the old bastard or his daughter for you never knew what a child would do for thier father despite any ill treatment. He reached back with his left hand and dug a pair of handcuffs from his saddlebags, but instead of moving to put them on the old man he threw them at the feet of the redhead.

"You go in there and put those on the wrist of the man that assaulted this old bastard as well! Everyone is equal in the eyes of the law and I can't arrest one for assault without arresting the other! If you don't bring him out I'll come in for him. Trust me. You don't want that. NOW MOVE!"

If she'd only kept her mouth shut. If she'd only followed along nobody would have to go to jail, or if her or the big man got stupid, nobody would have to die. But to put the old man in a cell on a charge, he'd have to put the big man inside in jail on the same charge. That's just the way the cards had been dealt. It was the only way without killing that the blond would get at least a few hours free on her own.

Not to mention the redhead had pushed his buttons and Battles felt a need to put her in her place as she had thought to do him!

“What makes you think that you’ve got sway over me?” Molly fumed at Texas Ranger, her voice raising an octave as he tossed fuel on her Irish fire. “You come a’ ridin’ into town not knowin’ one damn thing about the people livin’ here and now you’re making proclamations to me?” she challenged him. “You’d  better think twice, and I don’t care if you are as spiteful and mean as the devil himself!” Whatever had been redeeming that Molly had thought she had seen in him was long gone.

“You come into the saloon and manhandle me for no good reason leaving bruises on my flesh, and then you have a varmint’s gall to tell me that sometimes you move on instinct before you think about things . . .  like that’s supposed to make it all right. Your own words were that you’d probably have shot any other man who treated me the way you did, yet now you want to arrest Jamie Galbraith for doing the right thing?” Molly laughed in his face.

“That nasty bit of work is pure scum and if you can’t see that then you are cut from the same filthy piece of cloth that he is,” Molly gestured toward McKenna with a sharp jut of her chin. “Miss Annabelle is as accommodating a business woman as there ever was, but in her place no woman is ever disrespected. Jamie Galbraith didn’t hurt that old man none; he taught him a lesson is all; one that clearly needs teaching again. What Jamie did was what needed to be done in this mostly lawless hell-hole; and no more or less than what you did when you shoved your hard boot to the polecat’s backside. If you can’t see through that charlatan’s act, well I’ll allow it’s because you only have one good eye, but if you expect me to pick up those handcuffs and do your job for you then you have half a mind as well!”

Oh was Molly ever mad,  her full breasts heaving from emotion, the exertion of her speech, and the injustice of it all; standing square in the middle of the dusty road with that luxuriant mass of coppery silk tumbling about her shoulders, as proud and fierce as Boudicca the great Celtic warrior-queen. “A pair of jackasses you both are, but I stupidly expected better from you,” Molly’s voice was hot and bitter and her words were laden with scorn as she glared from Battles to the old man and back again; her fists planted on her hips and her expression daring Battles to take her on.

“And you,” Molly turned her blazing green eyes on Flossie. “You’re not the only one who’s been made a slave because of what nasty old men want from you. The only way you’ll be free of this dirty buzzard’s pecking is when you decide you’ve had enough. Earn your way with your nightingale voice or on your back for all I care, but don’t do it for any other reason than because it’s what you choose to do.” Molly stared at Flossie for a long moment as sad and sorry for the girl as ever she had been for herself in the days when she had been property loaned out and passed around. “Miss Annabelle will see you,” Molly’s voice gentled and if there was any spark of bright determination in Flossie then the shamed young woman heard the earnest truth that Molly spoke. “If you’re decent she’ll find a place for you, but if you’re expectin’ some knight on a white horse to save you from that bastard you call Daddy then you’ll never be free.”

“As for you,” Molly turned back to Battles and gave him a look that shouted 'Go ahead and shoot me, I dare you! as she gave the handcuffs that he had tossed a sharp kick in his direction. “You do your own dirty work, and if you’re lookin’ to make the acquaintance of Jamie Galbraith remember to mind your manners and tip your hat when you do.”
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Sun 18 Aug 2013.

People on the street were starting to gather to watch the spectical and a couple of cowhands came out of the Shady Lady as well to see what was happening. The boisterous redhead was loud enough the people in Mexico could hear her.

All Battles had wanted to do was difuse the situation but the bitch would have none of it. All she wanted was a fight and to see somebody hurt. She just had to push. She wasn't smart enough or experienced enough to know some people pushed back harder. She wasn't going to be satisfied until blood was shed.

Battles had thought briefly that maybe the redhead could be a comfort and influence on the young blond, but now he knew she was no better than the man who abused the poor girl himself. She had to be in control. It didn't matter how her actions affected others as long as she could be boss. She didn't care about anyone but herself. She didn't even care about the big man who had thrown the old man in the street or she wouldn't have dared a man like Battles to face him down.

Battles really had no choice. He couldn't haul the old man to the marshal's jail for assault without hauling the big man in as well. The big man, Jamie she called him, had assaulted the old man first. Yes the old man was a letch, but he'd done nothing or said anything you didn't see in saloons every day. Most whores knew what came with the territory but obviously not this redhead bitch.

She wanted trouble.

And she'd found it.

"You're a damn fool girl! I have to go in there now and maybe kill a man because you don't know when to keep your mouth shut! I had this all settled and nobody had to go to jail but you had to keep pushin'. I hope to God that big man in there is smarter than you because if he ain't he's gonna die because of you! I hope your foolish pride can live with that!"

Battles turned and looked at the old man and then the young blond. His gaze softened slightly when he looked at the girl, but hardened back right away.

"Old Man, you're under arrest as I said, so don't even think about running and making me come after you. Stand where you are until I come back out or I'll add fleeing from justice to your charges and shoot you down as a fugitive when next I lay eyes on you! Do you savvy?"

Not waiting for an answer Battles turned and headed into the saloon, brushing by the redhead without even a glance.

Flossie was frozen to the spot next to the wagon, her father tossed about again and then arrested.  Part of her heart rejoiced but then she knew he wouldn’t be in there long and there would be hell to pay when he got back to her.  Glancing at her father, she could see the pain in his eyes and the sweat that had popped on his brow but that irrational anger was raging in his eyes when he wasn’t having a fit of apoplexy.

Then the redhead went off and while in her mind she knew her father was trash, hearing someone else say it brought it completely in a new light and gave her new misgivings.  If her father was nothing but filth, then what was Flossie?  The words stung, especially about earning her way on her back, and overrode the good advice she was trying to give.  That was when the spark of defiance went off in her eyes and her lips formed a thin line.

“If I’m decent?” Flossie spluttered and then stopped herself from saying anything else.  Tempers were flaring and she was just as tempted to fly off at the mouth but couldn’t, or more exactly wouldn’t, make things worse.  Battles was livid and her father looked about ready to implode but she knew soon enough that would be an explosion and while part of her did want someone to rid her of her father, she’d long ago given up on a white night.

When Battles started to walk off, it was like someone goosed the girl and she went running after him with her hands up in the air so he wouldn’t think she was going to do anything bad.  ”Please Sir just wait a minute and let’s talk a minute,” she pleaded as she bounced in front of him.  ”Now, let’s see, my m-manager just got angry and he meant to push me behind him in case someone started shooting.  I lost my balance, these dang heels in dirt you know.”

Her eyes were wide and pleading with Battles, hands clasped together as if praying and resting against her pillowing bosom.  ”So he didn’t really assault me and everything’s just been a big misunderstanding.  No one needs to go to jail … let bygones be bygones … just …”  She faltered then, her throat tightening from fear and anxiety which made it hard to breathe.  Her eyes unfocused as she concentrated on calming herself, her breathing slowing to a more regular rate.  Sad blue eyes lifted up to Battles then as she whispered "Please ..."

For a second, just for a second, Battles had thought to push the young blond aside and march into the saloon and give the redhead the killing she seemed to be asking for. He'd seen the big man when he'd thrown the old bastard out of the saloon and he wasn't fool enough to think he could subdue him without a gun.

But he couldn't arrest one for assault without arresting the other. The redhead had pinned his ears back, sure enough. But before he shoved her aside to do his job, the young blond gave him an escape from killing.



Battles looked at the young girl, and looked to the defiant redhead. Then he looked at the old bastard who surely needed taken down a peg or two. But that wasn't his job.

"Well Miss, if you won't press charges for assault, I guess your old man is free to go. I'd strongly advise you not to let him off the hook however.

But...Your old man has said he wanted to press charges agin' the big man inside and from what I'd seen he has a right to. I tried to avoid that by invitin' him to a drink, but the young lady here would have none of it. Unless one of them changes their minds, I have no choice but put somebody in jail, or shoot them if they refuse to go.

I won't fault your father in this as he was willing to let things drop there for a while, but I won't condone his treatment of you either. And I'll surely not hear one more bad word out of his mouth about the women in this town. I'll take this badge off and throw it in the dirt so I don't have to worry about him legal like. I'll be able to deal with him man to man!"

In his own mind Robert wanted to shoot everyone involved in this mess, including his stupid daughter, but he knew he'd not even get his gun out before One-Eye would end his life.  No, things needed to settle and then he'd start working on his revenge.  At least Flossie had given him a moment to think about things and though it galled him to no end, he nodded.

"Sometimes me girl has a bit of sense," he growled as all of his weight was on his good leg.  Beads of sweat trickled down the side of his face and it was obvious the pain was worsening.  "I ... I'll not press charges.  Let th' bastard be.  If ye still want a drink, we'll just head on down t' that cantina."  Looking at Flossie, his jaw muscles fluttered.  "Open the back door an' lemme sit there instead of crawlin' in an outta th' bench."

Flossie hesitated, looking from her father to Battles.  "May we go, Sir?  And ... will you join us ... for a bit?" she asked with hopeful sweetness.

Well there it was. Over and done. The tension could visibly be seen to go out of Battles' shoulders as the threat of possible gunplay was removed. The old man had shocked him. He didn't think the old cuss had it in him to let go. He just wasn't the type. No doubt he had something in mind, but there in the street wasn't time to worry about it.

Turning back he gave the redhead one last look, all malice and threat now gone from his expression. Replaced maybe by a touch of sadness? What had the poor girl gone through in her young life to make her so spiteful and uncaring? Well, not uncaring. She'd certainly shown some concern for Flossie. When he took a second to think about it, he actually couldn't fault her for her anger either. It was just the dangerous way she pushed a situation that galled him.

But luckily it was past now.

Bending to pick up his shackles, Battles' was suddenly surprised to find his bottle of whiskey laying there in the dirt as well. He'd dropped it at some point, completely unaware of doing so. He tossed the shackles over his left shoulder and picked up the bottle dusting it off. Not caring if there was an ordinance against drinking in the streets, which he was sure there was as in most towns, but who was there to enforce ordinances in Escondido, he pulled the cork and took a long hard tug at the bottle. Glaring at the people who had gathered to watch, he replaced the cork and tossed the bottle to the old man.

"Move on! There's nothing more to see here!" He turned to the young Blond. "I'll join you for a bit. I'm obviously not welcome here myself. Let's help your...Manager... into the wagon where he can have a drink in peace for a minute."

If somebody was going to look after the young blond it appeared it was going to have to be Battles himself.

Robert watched as Battles took a pull from the bottle, licking his own lips and scratching at his whiskers with a look full of longing but then snapped his fingers at Flossie.  "Now ya'll don't forget about tonight," he called out looking specifically at the men with no women around them.  "One way'r another, this little gal'll be singin' an' dancin' ... ach damn that hurts," he said, the last little bit mumbled as he tried to put weight on his knee.

For her part, Flossie took the signal and smiled brightly as well as took a deep breath to accentuate her blessings then gave a tiny wave, delicate fingers wiggling, in the direction her father was looking.  It was her acting face, the strain of the recent bit of time still showing in her eyes but now wasn't the time to rile up her father again.  "Thank you," she whispered to Battles, her words of gratitude covered by her pursing her lips and blowing a kiss to a clutch of men.

When she walked over to Robert, it was a slow and very deliberate stride that made her full hips sway and she'd hiked up and swished the skirt in the front right to just above the knee.  Her gut was still in knots and she wondered which ones her father would lure in that night but for now she was in preshow mode, trying to lure as many as possible to come see her.  "Now give me just a moment," she said brightly as she helped him toward the back of the wagon, letting Robert lean on her and Battles until she could open the door and bring the string over to fasten it so it would stay open.  She was sturdy thankfully, holding up his weight quite easily and hefting him up to plunk his butt down.

"Now don't you go rushin' them mules an' make me fall out," Robert fussed at her.  His expression was still angry but it was clear his warped mind was whirring away.

"I won't," she promised quietly.  "Maybe I should take you to a doctor?  Have them see to you?"

"Don't want no damn doc.  All they do is shove needles in an' gimme that stuff that addles m' brain.  Nope, gotta get ye set up fer workin' an' that poultice that Injun showed ya should do good 'nuff."

"Yessir.  Now hold on and I'll get us back to that cantina."  Unless someone else decides we don't need to go there just yet, she thought to herself and looked to Battles.  "Meet you over there," she said as she hiked the skirt up and pulled herself up onto the driver's bench, settling down and taking up the reins.  "Alright boys, let's try this again," she called out to the mules and gently tapped their hindquarters, looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't turning in front of anyone and setting them down the road with practiced ease.


[To Cantina]

---> From The Escondido Bank and Essay Office


As the morning wore on. The sun climbing in the bright blue Texas sky. Temperance ushered her small brood out on to the ever changing streets of Escondido.

Noting painted box wagon creaking it’s way down the road. She guessed that ‘The Natchez Nightingale’ was the tightly corseted blonde behind the reins. The lord only knew who or what the dusty old man in the back was.

“Come along children.” Her eyes now falling on the one-eyed man and the red head. Molly? Molly something, she works at the Lady. Been the talk of the town ever sense Miss Lee toke her on. He just looks like trouble. “I’d like to be done and on our way home sooner than later.”

Hurrying the girls along Temperance keeps a sharp look out, just in case.


---> To The General Store
This message was last edited by the player at 22:10, Fri 23 Aug 2013.

From McQueen Residence

Clementine had a list of errands and good intentions an arm's length long, but before she set out in a bustle of hurry she took a moment to breathe the air, admire the improvements that she had made to her tidy little home, and glance up and down the road that comprised the town to see who was about and what was going on.

OOC: Where is our town map? Have I missed it?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:56, Mon 26 Aug 2013.

OOC ---> from McQueen residence...

With Rebecca holding onto his arm for support, Cyrus takes a slow, careful pace walking gently in the direction of the Marshal's office where Midnight is currently stabled along with his own horse Black Jack.

As they walked, Cyrus spoke in a soft, concerned tone, "So Miss Rebecca, where were you and your family headed to... originally?  Do you have any nearby relations whom I could contact?  I know you're nearly a woman full grown, but even we adults can use a helpin' hand from kin when times are tough."

Rebecca's shook her head, still smiling from his compliment about 'pale ' girls.  "Nay, Papa was on an adventure.   Arizona, California, or mayhap some place else!   It was as if he were a young lad seekin' a lassie."  She looked at Cyrus for a moment.   "Ye never found one.  Why is that," she asked innocently.

Cyrus paused in his step for a moment in reaction to Rebecca's "innocent question" before continuing and replying in a carefully guarded tone, "Well now... who says I never found a lass... or rather a lady?  But finding one and being able to keep one, those are two different things.

And you know the military lifestyle as well as I do, frequent traveling from post to post, often stationed at the edge of nowhere only a step or two away from constant danger either from the elements or hostile natives or untamed bandits... its not exactly a life that many women find attractive.  Safety and stability are usually prized over danger and upheaval experienced on a regular basis.

Aside from being posted on the wild Frontier most of the time, my units were typically knee deep in the thick of one Indian War or another.  It is difficult to ask a lady to make plans with you for the future when you can't promise her that you'll actually be there by her side alive, well, and in one piece a week in advance much less a month or even a year.

Sometimes I wonder how my father managed to convince my mother to risk it all to marry him... though that was an earlier time and it seemed at least as if there were fewer "fires" that needed to be put out on a near constant basis."

Decided that turn about was fair play, Cyrus glanced at Rebecca with a smile and said in a teasing tone, "Anyway I'm an old war horse, there's plenty of reasons why I'm still single... but what about you Miss Rebecca?  I can't imagine what excuse there is for you not having at least 3 or 4 beaus chasin' after you.

Surely there has to be at least a couple of men from here to Kansas who could manage to keep up with you, even astride a fast horse like Midnight.  Or is there someone?  Perhaps a betrothal awaitin' either your return or waitin' for your arrival?"

Now it was Rebecca that paused in her step, blushing furiously.  "Oh, Nay!  Oh!"  She looked at Cyrus accusingly, but even the young woman could admit she had asked for that question.

She shook her head.  "Nay, I have no beau, nor any betrothed!  As ye said, the Army life is hardly one for such things.  And Papa was very careful that I not encourage any such things with the soldiers at the Post.  As ye know, there are very few women at those posts.  I danced with them all, but I was kept from true association with them."

She sighed.  "There was one lovely young man.  He was an officer, mayhap much like ye were when I was but a girl.  He was so very gentlemanly.  We did go riding a time or two."  She grew melancholy.  "He said he should like to come to California sometime, mayhap to find me.  I told him that was a foolish dream, but he was most persistent.  Poor fellow.  He'll likely always wonder what happened to me."

Clementine had a list of errands and good intentions an arm's length long, but before she set out in a bustle of hurry she took a moment to breathe the air, admire the improvements that she had made to her tidy little home, and glance up and down the road that comprised the town to see who was about and what was going on. The truth of the matter was that the rough and wild little town never ceased to amaze her for the denizens were so vastly different from Clementine’s circle of acquaintances in Boston that each time she ventured out of her house the excursion was an adventure.

Satisfied that the impromptu breakfast had gone well, that her husband was enjoying a contented state of mind, and that their patient was on the road to recovery; Clementine banished all thoughts of their house and tiny hospital from her mind.  Lifting her face to the warm breeze and bright sunshine, undaunted Clementine set out with a bounce in her step and a sway to her walk that dared anyone to rain on her parade.

There was nothing to the town but a thoroughfare flanked on both sides by all that was essential for folks to get by; yet although Clementine had not partaken of all that Escondido had to offer, she was well aware of what was and wasn’t there. The heels of Clementine’s suede boots were tapping a merry tattoo on the uneven boardwalk when she spied a lone man sprawled awkwardly in her path. Instinctively Clementine hurried her pace to see what the matter was.


This message was last edited by the player at 00:05, Tue 27 Aug 2013.

----> from his home and office

Ramsey watched the Marshal and Miss O'Dell go their way, while he turned tail and headed towards the barber shop.  There were more people about at this hour, but he was firm of purpose and kept to a bee line that ran straight to the barber, nodding politely when he had to but keeping close and to himself in the meanwhile.

----> to the barber

Cyrus "tsked" as he said in an encouraging tone, "Now, now Miss Rebecca, you mustn't write yourself off like that, you are still alive and gettin' healthier by the day and you're still young and pretty and able to look forward to a long and happy future.

Now tell me... what was the name of this gentlemanly officer?  Do you recall what unit he was assigned to?

Perhaps when you're feelin' better, you might think about writing this young man a letter to let him know that you're alive and well.  You know there's quite a few cavalry troops stations all over the state of Texas and a competent officer can often secure a transfer from one duty post to another.

If need be, I could always put in a good word for him with my former commanding officer, Colonel Ranald Mackenzie.  Col. Mackenzie and the 4th US Cavalry are always on the look out for good men and promising young officers.  I believe Companies A, B, C, E, and K are stationed not all that far away at Fort Clark, while there are a few other Companies posted to Fort Concho to the east of us."

Cyrus paused for a moment and chuckled as he continued in a slightly less enthusiastic but quite serious tone, "But before I get too far ahead of myself... I'll just say that there's no reason to leave the young man wondering what happened to you, you really should think about writing him a letter.  After all, there's the possibility he may hear second hand about the attack and be left wondering and worrying about your fate."

Rebecca seemed introspective.  "His name was Rob.  Robert Erickson, a 1st Lieutenant in Daddy's unit.  Very young, Daddy said, but he seemed so worldly t' me.  He loved Midnight and told me one night he might fall in love with me.  I told him Daddy would never be allowin' him t' ask him to marry me, should such happen.  I... I cried when we left."

She let go to wipe her eyes.  "Silly, huh?  He wasn't about much, but I saw him many times.  I... I danced with him one night, oh he was a bonny dancer!  Not at all like some of the cavalry who seemed so uncomfortable off of a horse!  Oh, he had strong arms and I felt light as a feather..."

She blushed.  "Oh, listen to me!  Please, let us continue our walk, Marshal!  I'm a foolish girl and am simply glad to be alive and on your arm!"

Indeed, as she started walking, her steps seemed more sure.  A stray breeze blew a bit of her long hair up to tickle Cyrus' cheek as they walked.

Cyrus nodded his head as he continued to escort Rebecca towards the Marshal's Officer.  He said in a friendly tone, "Nonsense Miss Rebecca, there's nothing foolish in having feelings for a young man, especially if he returns the favor.  And this Lt. Erickson does sound like a fine, upstanding young officer.

So if it isn't prying too much, and if it is please say so as I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, was this Lt. Robert Erickson your first real beau?

Well... other than Midnight of course!"  Cyrus grinned knowing just how much Rebecca loved horses and in particular her own horse.

She shook her head sadly.  "Nay, he wasna my beau.  He wanted to be, and were I less flighty and knowin' what I know now, maybe he would have been.  He was a dear lad, but he knows not where I am, and that's the end of it."

She looked up with a smile.  "But my Midnight.  I have Midnight, and no lass is happier than I.  And you've saved us both!  How could I ever repay you?"  Her eyes were full of worship and adoration.

Cyrus smiled at Rebecca and replied in earnest, "I cannot rightly take credit for saving Midnight, he managed to stay free all on his own and then came back to watch over you until my cavalry troop arrived.

But as for repaying me for rescuing you... well that warm, healthy, pretty smile you're showing right now is all the reward I need.

I only wish I could do more for you Miss Rebecca.  I am trying my best to track down leads to discover who attacked you and why and more importantly where they are now so that they may be properly brought to justice."

Cyrus's expression turned serious as he contemplated the difficulties in finding the bandits, difficulties that grew more and more difficult as the days turned into weeks.  Still he was determined to bring law & order to this region and bringing in those bandits to face real justice at the end of a rope (after a proper trial and conviction of course) would go a long way to showing the locals that wanton violence and rampart lawlessness were no longer welcome and had no place in "civilized" Texas!

Cyrus spied the Marshal Office just up ahead and he gently escorted Rebecca around to where the stables were in the back.

OOC: ---> to Marshal's Office thread

In reply to Flossie McKenna (msg # 28):

"I'll meet you there directly, Miss. I have to stop in at the Marshal's office on the way, but I won't be far behind you." Battles had no intention of leaving the young lady alone in the old man's care even if he were her father, but he had his duty as a Ranger to perform first and foremost and it was important that he speak to the Marshal about his business in Escondido.