The mist still blankets Lincoln’s Main Street when Castillo emerges from McGraw’s shop. The mountain air has grown a hint cooler, full drops of rain falling amidst the drizzle. From somewhere nearby, the scout can hear the faint notes of a piano playing.

Across the street, lantern lights burn warmly in the windows of the Montaño Store and the neighboring Patron House. Castillo can make out the silhouette of a man reading a book in what she guesses to be the boarding house’s common room.

Leaning against the hitching post in front of the Patron House is a man in a tan colored duster, his hat pulled low over his eyes. He is smoking a thin cigar, seemingly unperturbed by the wet conditions.

A moment later, two men come riding past at a slow canter. Castillo recognizes the drooping mustache and well lined face of Sheriff William Brady before the lawman and his deputy come into easy view. Brady tips his hat to Castillo as the pair pass by, the courthouse their likely destination.

Across the street, Castillo notices that the man in the duster’s posture has straightened, his attention focused on the Sheriff as he rides past.

Out of the corner of her eye, Castillo spies the figure of a young woman, dressed for the range, a saddle propped on one shoulder, walking in a slow circle around the schoolhouse.

Jacinta gave the sheriff a friendly nod and the man in the duster a glance.  After lighting one of the thin cigars she favored, she took a moment to pull her poncho from her pack and pulled it on over her head.  Her hat kept the drizzle from worming down the back of her neck.  Smoke trailing behind her as she stepped foot into the street, she started toward the school house to see what the woman was about.

The man in the duster remains in place for a moment, his attention on the retreating forms of the two lawmen. Dropping the remains of his cigar in a nearby puddle, he pushes off of the hitching rail and begins an unhurried walk west, keeping to the northern side of the street.

The young woman comes into clearer view as Castillo draws closer to her. She is dressed in the manner of a cowhand, her boots and chaps showing signs of persistent use. Her hat is pulled down against the elements, but it only conceals a portion of her freckle sprinkled face and long, red hair. A gun belt encircles her waist, a Colt Peacemaker secured in the holster. The saddle which she holds on one shoulder appears brand new.

Her gaze is fixed on the schoolhouse, but she looks toward Castillo as she perceives the scout’s approach. She opens her mouth to speak, but pauses, her attention momentarily drawn to the duster clad man traveling down the opposite side of the street. Frowning, she regards the tracker again.

”Afternoon,” she says.

"Afternoon," Jacinta said in greeting.  Her eyes follow the woman's gaze to the man in the duster.  "Friend of yours?  Seemed a might twitchy when the law rode by.  Never can tell in these parts."

Glancing back to the schoolhouse, she took a few paces toward the building to have a closer look.  "You heard 'bout what happened here?  Heard there was some strange things going on."

The young woman frowns. ”No. Someone I know of, not someone I know. His name’s Tom O’Folliard. He’s one of a group of cowboys that worked for John Tunstall. They were recently deputized, tasked with hunting down some of the men believed responsible for the murder.” She sighs. ”Unfortunately, I think that some of them feel that Sheriff Brady belongs on their list of suspects.”

She turns to Castillo, extending her hand. ”Sorry for my manners. I’m Aileen Kearney. Mustanger by trade, at least for right now. And yeah, I’ve heard about what’s happened here at the school. I’d had to be in town to get my new saddle here from Señor Sanchez and volunteered to keep watch on the place, make sure none of the young ones tried to get back in. Yesterday, Father Narvaez caught Lyle Baxter sneaking inside.” She shakes her head. ”I think he thought he might could find his missing friends.”

She shook the woman's hand firmly.  "Jacinta Castillo.  Bit of a scout and tracker in the territory.  Just slidin' through looking for work.  Been here a time or two to meet up with one group or another."  She gestured at the schoolhouse.  "First time I ever heard about anything like this.  Missing children is bad news all around.  Murder, too.  This place seems on the edge of tipping over into something bigger."

"You seen any others poking about the schoolhouse earlier?  Am looking for my friend Tamsin.  She's an herbalist that comes into town once in a while."

”I’m afraid you’re right about this town bein’ at the tippin’ point,” she glances back in the direction of the courthouse. ”I’m sure you’ve heard, but a lot of folks suspect Lawrence Murphy, James Dolan, and The House in Mr. Tunstall’s death. But The House holds a lot of power, here in Lincoln and elsewhere in the Territory, if the rumors are to be believed. The only people inclined to stand up to them are some of Mr. Tunstall’s cowhands, like O’Folliard. But I’m afraid they’re only looking for an excuse to start shooting. More interested in vengeance than setting things right.”

She nods when Castillo mentions River’s name. ”Your friend was here. Took a clipping from those weeds that have grown all over the back of the school. Last I saw her, she was headed to the Montaño Store. Another lady of her acquaintance, Miss Winter, who helps folks with herbal remedies down in San Patricio was over there earlier, visiting with Señora Montaño.

"Ah, that must be the lady from San Patricio that we heard about earlier.  Figures she'd be lookin' for one of similar vocation.  I should go find 'em and see what they think about these strange thorny weeds.  You ever seen their like?"

Kearney shakes her head. ”Never. Not anywhere in the valley. I hail from Colorado and I’ve never seen any like them there, either.”

As Kearney finishes answering, Castillo notices another figure approaching the schoolhouse, who she quickly recognizes as Albert Cooper, one of her fellow passengers on the stagecoach ride.

When Albert spots Jacinta in conversation, Albert makes his way over to the pair. He forces a smile as he approaches, but his heart wasn't in it. "Howdy, ladies. How are ya both doin' this afternoon?"

She eyed Albert.  "Fair to middlin', Mr. Cooper.  You seen all this?"  She gestured at the schoolhouse.  "Was plannin' to find Tamsin and see if she or her herbalist friend knew anything 'bout these strange vines.  They ain't just here.  Went to a farmstead earlier with McGraw and they were coverin' the vegetable patch out that way, too.  Heard that these things are croppin' up all over.  At least for the people that spoke out against Lawrence Murphy."

Albert nods. "I did see it, sure. Also heard it showed up right when them kids were kidnapped. Lotta kids whose parents're opposed ta the Murphy side. Lyle Baxter said there was some kinda person that came outta the vines. Scared him enough that he jumped outta winda. Not sure what happened ta the rest of 'em after he left, but seems like them vines prolly had somethin' ta do with the disappearance."

Albert sighs. "Seems like mebbe we should cut 'em down and burn 'em. But Flower Power figgerin' out what these are might be an even better choice. Ya said there's a farmstead what had the vines in em, Jay-Lo? Don't s'pose ya know who owned those farmseads?" Albert was currently suppressing the urge to ride as fast as he could to his aunt and uncle's ranch. Of course that suppression might not last much longer depending on Jacinta's answer.

"Don't rightly know who all had this same problem," she answered honestly.  "We were out at the Gehrig place.  He mentioned that there were a handful of people at the courthouse shortly after the murder and those that spoke out against Murphy, trying to pin the murder on him, ended up with these vines in their crops -- choking the life out of everything.  Only fella he mentioned by name was Lorne Shaw.  Shaw's son was one of the kids that went missin' in the schoolhouse, along with several others.  He was told that if he stopped his lips flappin' 'bout the killing of John Tunstall, he might just get his son back."

Albert nodded at Jacinta's response. "Yeah, I was just talkin' ta Mike Kibbee. He also received a similar offer - stop talkin' against the house and he might get his son back. Offer came from a fella attached ta Jesse Evans' outlaw gang."

The ranch hand still had that urge to ride home to see what was going on there, but it could probably wait just a little bit. Getting more information before doing so might be best.

"There really ain't nothin' that'll piss me off faster and more'n kidnappin's. While I'd really like ta just start shootin' whoever I think might be involved, I'm gonna not do that, yet, and rather will be headin' ta the saloon next. Mike also mentioned Desiree Thornton has spoken ta everyone what had their kid snatched. She's also courageously been speakin' out against the House. Figger she might have some more information 'bout this whole thing."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:34, Sat 07 Apr 2018.

"You figure this chica is at the saloon?  If you're headed there, keep an eye out for Ranger Lee.  McGraw was wantin' to speak with him 'bout all this.  Make sure he got all the facts.  Ms. Kearney here said that Tamsin was visiting at the Montaño Store.  Gonna pop in there and see what's what."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:19, Wed 18 Apr 2018.

Kearney listens to the conversation. Pointing to the schoolhouse, she says, ”I’m gonna stay put. Keep an eye on this place a bit longer. Make sure none of the young ones get it in their head to take a gander at it before they have to be home for supper.”

She looks from Castillo to Cooper and back again. ”You two need help with any of this later on, let me know. I’ve been staying over at Ike Ellis’ place while I’m here in Lincoln.”

OOC: If neither of you object, I’ll go ahead and move Albert to the Thornton-Curry Saloon and Jacinta to the Montaño Store.

Albert nodded at Aileen. "Nice ta meetcha Ms. Kearney. Someone'll come find ya if we could use yer help."

He then smiled at Jacinta. "Yeah, I do figger she's at her saloon. I'll know soon enough, though." The ranch hand briefly pulled his hat off his head. "Hope I'll be seein' ya later on, Jay-Lo."

With a final, polite nod toward Aileen, Albert took his leave of the pair and headed toward the saloon.

OOC: Yes, please!

Cooper ventures down the street, finding it still quiet and mostly unoccupied. Passing Wilson’s Saloon, he notices a pair of men loitering in front of the entrance, watching him as he saunters down the muddy street.

Soon, the imposing sight of the two story courthouse comes into view, lantern light burning within a few of its second floor windows. Across the street from it is a familiar, well kept clapboard building with a tin roof, trimmed in bright red. A sign hanging over the batwing doors reads simply, ”Thornton-Curry”.

A young man stands on the front porch, leaning against one of the posts that support the overhang. 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 appears fixed on the nearby courthouse, but he breaks his vigil long enough to politely nod to Cooper as he approaches.

Inside, Cooper finds a well furnished barroom. A wide mirror, framed in dark stained oak, adorns the wall behind the polished bar. Shelves holding glassware and bottles stand in front of the mirror. A number of round tables and wooden chairs fill the room and, to the left of the bar, an open door leads deeper into the saloon. The neat decor and papered walls lend the interior a genteel air, reminiscent of the finer homes of the Deep South.

Several of the tables are occupied. At the bar, Cooper spies Kansas Kate, Bryan Lee, and Jake McGraw all conversing at the bar with the proprietor, Desiree Thornton.

OOC: Albert, you can pick up your part of the narrative in the Saloon thread.

---

Castillo takes her leave of Kearney and ventures back down to the eastern end of Lincoln’s Main Street, approaching the Montaño Store, which is clearly one of the oldest buildings in town. Although the structure and the area it occupies are clearly well maintained, Castillo can see that the adobe walls and tin roof have endured their share of unflinching sunlight and brutal winters. The dim illumination of lanterns is visible in the window beside the front door, which has been painted a bright blue. As the scout draws close, she can hear the sound of voices conversing inside.

A small bell rings as Castillo pushes the door open. Inside, the walls are lined with handmade shelves that have been stained dark. They are laden with a variety of goods, many in boxes and jars. Tables in the large room’s center hold tools, blankets, and a number of different items fashioned from leather. A open doorway appears to lead into a room where clothes and linens are displayed. The rich scent of spices greets the scout as she enters.

At the far end of the room is a desk, at which two women are seated. One, who Castillo does not recognize, is a middle aged woman with long, dark hair which has been braided. Sitting on the desk beside her is a basket which appears to be filled with herbs. Across from her is Tamsin River. Between the two is a clipping from a dark colored vine.

OOC: Jacinta, you can join the conversation going on in Tamsin River’s thread.