Perez nods. ”You as well, señorita. Stay watchful.”

OOC: Let me know Kate’s next destination and I’ll move things in that direction.

Kate wandered out.  She had no reason to go in any particular order, but that Lyle Baxter was on her short list.

She remembered several of the coach riders were from here and might know more about the area, so if she happened to see any of them on the way she'd stop and ask, but for now the Baxters were the first thought she had.

She had to figure out who she was going to shoot.

The Baxter farm proves easy for Kate to find, following the landmarks that Perez provided. The light, misting rain continues to swirl through the cool air as the outlaw makes her way out of Lincoln, folllowing the slow slope of the valley southward, junipers and green sprouts of grana grass filling most of the untamed terrain. The trip is a relatively short one. Soon, Kate’s sharp eyes have picked out the silhouette of a farm house, along with a fenced in copse of apple trees. As she draws closers, she sees a pen full of goats to the west of the house, along with a neatly constructed chicken coop.

As she comes closer, the front door opens, and a sandy haired man in jeans and denim work shirt steps out onto the covered porch, a rifle in one hand. The weapon hangs at his side, but his demeanor reflects suspicion. ”Afternoon. Something I can help you with?”

OOC: Kindly provide me with a Notice roll.

21:13, Today: Kansas Kate rolled 5,3 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,3.  Notice.

Kate tilted her head up, rolling her hat back a little.

"Ah reckon there might be at that.  One señorita Perez set me to mosey on this way.  I'd be much obliged to have a speak with one young Mister Lyle Baxter, with his ma and pa's supervision of course.  It seems the poor boy has seen something mighty unsightly at the schoolhouse recently."

The man regards Kate for a moment, then nods, shouldering the rifle. ”You’re trying to help find the little ones who are missing.” Stepping off the porch, he gestures to the side of the house. “Lyle’s around back. I’m sure he’ll talk with you. Your bigger problem may be getting him to quieten down once you’ve asked all your questions. Follow me.”

Reed Baxter leads Kate around to the rear of the wide cabin. Seated on a pair of steps in front of the back door is a blonde haired boy, perhaps ten years old, whittling on a piece of wood with a small knife. He glances up as Kate and his father appear, regarding the outlaw with unconcealed curiosity.

”Lyle, this lady’s trying to find some of your friends from school. She needs to talk to you for a spell,” Reed explains.

”Sure,” Lyle answers with a nod, his gaze still fixed on Kate. ”I don’t ‘member ever seein’ you before, ma’am.”

Kate only nodded at the man's assessment, and was taken aback by his acquiescing to let a stranger speak to the child.  The weeds... the man smelled of quiet desperation.  What did he have to lose, he likely reckoned.

"Well ah reckon it's because you recollect correctly sir, I can assure you that you ain't never seen me before.  I'm Kansas Kate, and I've come to hear a spell about yer recent happenings."

Reed Baxter lingers within a few paces of the conversation, listening closely to all that is said.

"You want to know about the schoolhouse," Lyle says, "about the weeds that grew everywhere and the thing that took my friends."

He squints at Kate. "Are you some kind of bounty hunter, ma'am?" he asks, clearly intrigued by the prospect.

"Some kind, yessir."  Kate responded, smirking.  Despite how cynical she could be, this nipper was a novelty to her.  "And I do want to hear all about it.  Until I don't."

”Well, it was just a normal day at school. Except...a lot of us were kind of watchin’ the street ‘cause a bunch of cowboys from one of the ranches came ridin’ past, goin’ to the courthouse. Santos said it was ‘cause they were gettin’ deputized. Made into lawmen, kinda. But Santos makes stuff up all the time.”

“Anyhow, Miss Perez rang the bell and started callin’ for us to go back inside. All the riders had gone into the courthouse it looked like, so I went ahead and went back in.” He pauses. ”Plus, I kinda wanted to hold the door for Susie Woods.”

“So I go back in and the classroom’s all messed up. From Miss Perez’ desk on back, there’s all these weeds. Real dark colored, with thorns. Not like the ones with the purple leaves and the stickers that come every fall. They were like...vines. And they’d come up through the floor and covered the whole back wall and started across the ceilin’. They smelled bad, too. Like...old.” He looks over at his father. ”Me an’ Pa helped the Shaws tear down an empty shed that was on the land they bought. It was like that. Real dusty smellin.’”

“So I start to say we oughta leave, but afore I could, the door slammed shut. And then...well, someone started pushin’ outa that tangle of weeds. Someone real tall, with arms and legs that were a lot longer than most folks have.” He looks at Kate pointedly to make certain she grasps the imagery. ”I ain’t gonna lie. I was plenty scared. And I wasn’t about to stay put and let that feller get hold of me. So I ran over to the window and busted it with my elbow, pushed out all the glass I could. Told everyone to come on. But, only Ella got out with me.”

He shrugs, his expression regretful. ”I’m guessin’ you know the rest. When Miss Perez finally got the door open, all my friends were gone.”

Kate frowned.  "And you saw nothing else after that?"

For once and probably the only time in her life she wished she were a botanist.

Lyle looks over at his father.

”You can tell her,” Reed says, ”You ain’t gonna get in any more trouble for it.”

The boy looks back at Kate. ”Yesterday, they started having school at the San Juan Church and I...well, I snuck off. I wanted to see if I could figure out where Susie and my friends got off to.”

“I crawled back in through the window I’d gotten out of. Whoever closed it up didn’t board it up too tight. Those weeds, there were more of ‘em. And the floor, it had fallen in, like a big hole had opened underneath it. One end of Miss Perez’ desk was stickin’ up out of it.”

“I went over to look in and it looked like there was a tunnel...like in a mine? But I heard some noise down in it, so I didn’t jump down right then. I waited to see if it’d get quiet.”

HIs expression turns dejected. ”But then the priest, Father Narvaez, he found me. Chewed me out and made me leave.”

”And it’s why he didn’t go back today.” Reed interjects. ”He had to stay here, make some promises to me and his mother about letting things alone. Leaving ‘em to the kind of people that can handle ‘em.”

Lyle shakes off his embarrassment and refocuses on Kate. ”You know, in a few years. I’ll be bigger. You might need a partner or something. I’m plenty brave, ma’am.” He reaches down next to the steps and retrieves a well worn book, which he hands to her. ”And I’ve been readin’ about how things are done.”

Kate sees that the book is a dime novel about the exploits of John Wesley Hardin.

Kate shook her head.  "You'll be bigger, but let's hope yer smarter too.  That ain't how things are done for anybody with a future boy.  You take after yer pappy, not a piece of human trash like that."  Or me, for that matter. Kate reflected.

"It might even be a fun ride for a while, but trust me, there ain't nothin' down that road."

Kate stood up.  This was coalescing all too quickly.

"Thank you kindly young sir.  Ya been much helpful."  Then she turned to Lyle's father and pointed to the encroaching weed growth.

"Ya'll had much luck killin' them things?"

To Kate’s satisfaction, Lyle appears to give her words real weight, nodding quietly in response to her advice. When she thanks him, he grins. ”If I can help more, I sure will, ma’am.”

Reed Baxter seems to have relaxed further as the conversation between and his son has continued. He shakes his head at Kate’s question, glancing over at the orchard. ”No, ma’am. Not any. Me, the wife, and Lyle, have all gotten out there. Cut ‘em down. Pulled ‘em. We set some waxed canvas over a patch of ‘em, but that didn’t accomplish anything. I haven’t resorted to burning, ‘cause I’m still trying to preserve the trees.”

“They always grow back. Sometimes as quick as overnight. And just here. Just in the orchard. Nowhere else.”

"Nowhere else?  You  ain't seen 'em in yer neighbor's place or nothin'?"  Kate asked, intrigued.

Reed shakes his head. ”I’m sorry, ma’am. I misspoke. Those weeds have only tangled up the orchard here on our land.”

“But yes, they have turned up on other people’s land. But not everywhere. Only in gardens or other spots where they’re tryin’ to raise food. All the stories are the same as mine. No matter what’s done, the damned things keep returning.”

He sighs. ”Way it seems, those weeds have only bothered folks who have spoke critically of Mr. Murphy and The House.”

"Is that so?  Me bein' a stranger an' all, don't reckon ah know Murphy.  Why would folks not be too keen on him?"

She paused.  This might actually be more important than what the kid had to say.

”He’s the biggest rancher in the valley,” Reed Baxter replies, ”Hails from Ireland originally. Calls his outfit ‘The House’. His second in command, James Dolan, gives a lot of the orders. Has quite a few gunhands in his employ. Jesse Evans and his gang, in particular.”

He shrugs. ”Already owns more land than anyone around here. It’s not enough, I guess. He wasn’t gonna have some newcomer like John Tunstall come in and start a competing cattle outfit, so he had the man killed. And if he has the chance, he’ll steal the land from anyone that doesn’t agree with his way of doin’ things.”

"This Murphy... he real keen on yer local sheriff?"  Kate knew the answer, but confirming it was important.  "An' what do you think o' this Tunstall feller?"

”My opinion, Sheriff Brady gets most of his upkeep from Murphy. He’s not gonna turn against the man who’s fillin’ his pockets.”

Reed slides his free hand in his pocket. ”I didn’t know John Tunstall well. Only met him on a couple of occasions. But he seemed like the rest of us, just interested in buildin’ a life out here. Makin’ somethin’ out of his corner of the valley. I know he was honest with his store. Treated everyone fair with his prices. He may not have always been wise about who he hired to work his cattle, but I’ve never heard anyone speak ill of the man himself. By all accounts, he was highly thought of.”

Bits were beginning to click in Kate's noggin.  It wasn't a complete picture, not by a long shot.  But she was getting a pretty good idea who to shoot.

"Thank you kindly sir.  If'n I may recommend... I would never oblige a Christian man to lie, but might be fer th' best you make sure you all forget I was ever here."

Reed Baxter smiles and nods. ”Never saw you,” he replies.

”Be careful, ma’am,” Lyle adds.

"You especially forget I was ever here.  And get fool notions out of yer head boy."

Kate left in short order.  She checked the sun to gauge how much daylight was left.

OOC: By now, it is late afternoon, drawing close to evening. Somewhere around five o’clock.

Well, that was getting to be too late in the day to go calling on polite society.  Kate went back to the saloon to rustle up accommodation and maybe just listen to what the locals yammered about.

The mist becomes interspersed with occasional drops of rain, the mountain air cooling further, the heavy clouds bringing an early dusk to the afternoon sky.

When Kate arrives back at the Thornton-Curry, she finds a young man loitering on the front porch. His features indicate that he is of Mexican heritage, his somewhat shaggy dark hair and unshaven face betraying long hours spent on the range. His shoulders and chest are covered by an earth colored poncho and a Peacemaker is tied low on his left thigh. In his left hand, propped on his shoulder, is a carbine sheathed in a buckskin scabbard. His attention is fixed on the nearby courthouse, the upper floor windows of which burn with lantern light. He breaks his vigil long enough to politely nod to Kate as she approaches.

Beyond the bat wing doors, Kate can see that several of the saloon’s tables have become occupied, but it is still too early in the evening for business to be in full swing. The outlaw’s attention is briefly drawn to a table on the right side of the room, where a pair of cowhands are seated with a well dressed man wearing spectacles. The group are conversing quietly. At the bar itself, a man and woman, husband and wife Kate suspects, are speaking with Desiree Thornton.