The Tunstall ranch house sits on the very edge of the northern foothills, where the earth begins to buckle and rise, eventually forming the Capitan Mountain range. The house is a wide, single story structure, built from dark colored lumber that already shows signs of weathering. Warm light spills from the windows and a pair of lanterns hang on the covered porch, flanking the front door, providing a beacon for riders who are likely working late guarding the herds. A tall, whitewashed barn sits to the left of the main house, a square bunkhouse to the right.  A pair of cows linger at the corral fence adjoining the barn, grazing.

As Cooper, Lee, and Segovia draw near to the building, a tall man with a dark mustache emerges on the porch. He is dressed like a ranch hand, chaps covering his jeans, a red bandanna around his neck, all of his clothing brown with range dust. In his right hand, he carries a rifle, the barrel pointed at the ground. He regards the approaching group with squinting eyes for a moment, then calls out to them. ”Evening! You boys lost?”

Albert left Segovia in Bryan's care for a moment while he took a few steps forward introduced himself, his hands open and facing outward to show there was nothing in them. "And a good evenin' ta you as well. You must be Jim French. I'm Albert Cooper, Henry's nephew. Been workin' at my uncle's ranch as a hand fer a bit. Those odd vines were affectin' my uncle's ranch, so I went with some folk ta discover the source."

He paused a moment to let that sink in. "We discovered this fella keepin' all them kidnapped kids hostage at the source of those vines. He was keepin' 'em alive, but keepin' 'em hostage. Said he was doin' it on orders given by Jesse Evans hisself. Said that those what were kidnapped were taken from families givin' Mister Murphy a hard time."

He gestured toward Bryan. "Mister Lee here's a full-on Texas Ranger what deputized those of us that went huntin' fer the source o' the weeds.  We ain't lost, no, but we gotta sorta predicament here. Ain't got no trust fer Brady right now so incarceratin' him in Lincoln ain't gonna happen. I think this fella is guilty of at least nine things that are hangin' offenses, so I'm of the opinion he should be dead right now. But I ain't in charge."

With that introduction, Albert stepped back behind Segovia and rested his hand on his pistol so that Bryan could say his piece. He sort of hoped Segovia would try to make a break for it. But the man had held out hope thus far, so the odds of that were relatively low.

"Everything Coop here says is true," he said. "I'm a Texas Ranger, and I've been sent here by the governor his-self to look into this kidnapping of children and also the murder of a young rancher by the name of John Tunstall. We came here hopin' to see if y'all might could volunteer us a space in which to confine this prisoner, who is implicated in at least the kidnappin' of children and perhaps service to folks that held interest against Mr. Tunstall. As you can imagine, keepin' him in town might not be easy. And sure, I could escort him up to Santa Fe, but that wouldn't let me spend enough time locally to get behind the folks who were really behind the kidnapping - leavin' them more time to cover their tracks and make my investigation all the more complicated."

He paused. "We mean no harm here. If we could come to an accord, I'd be appreciative. If not, we'll be glad to be on our way."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:58, Mon 09 July 2018.

French considers all he has been told for a moment, his stare falling on Segovia. He nods, pointing to the front door with his free hand. ”Whyn’t ya’ll bring him inside. Ya kin talk to Miz McSween about him.”

The front room of the ranch house is neatly, if simply furnished. Several chairs, including two rockers, surround a low table, upon which is the week’s edition of Lincoln Independent, a clothbound copy of The Gunmaker of Moscow, and a leatherbound Bible. A pair of lanterns hang from hooks in the ceiling, bathing the room in warm, yellow light. Two paintings adorn the wall opposite the front door, one depicting a presumably European city, the other a colorful picture of a flower dotted valley.

Segovia looks around the room nervously, his jaw clenched, fresh sweat on his forehead.

After a moment, a woman with long brown hair, dressed in a blue calico dress enters the room. Her face is lined from worry, but her eyes suggest a sharp intelligence with their matter of fact gaze. French follows her, but lingers at the doorway that leads further back into the house.

”Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Susan McSween,” she says, ”Jim here tells me that you caught one of Jesse Evans’ boys up to no good.” She glances at Segovia. ”And that you’re not keen on delivering him to Sheriff Brady.”

Albert waited for Segovia to precede him into the ranch house, keeping his right hand on the butt of his pistol as everyone moved indoors. Being respectful of the home he was entering, Albert removed his hat with his left hand, hanging it somewhere appropriate as the group moved into the entryway. He stood with a little distance between himself and Segovia - far enough that Albert knew he could draw and fire if it became necessary.

The ranch hand nodded his head politely at Susan McSween. "And a good evenin' to you too, ma'am. I'm Albert Cooper, Henry's nephew." Albert told the same story as he told it to Jim French, ending with the same introduction of Ranger Lee.

"Evening, ma'am. I was lookin' for a friendly place outside of town to hold our man here. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that we've liberated a number of kidnapped children who were being held at the Blair place on the orders of one Jesse Evans. Please understand that I'm new here in town, but my understanding is that it might be dangerous to any involved were we to hold him in town. Also, I understand that turning him over to Sheriff Bradys custody may result in an...early release of the sort we ain't keen on. Now, if you can provide a safe holding place for a prisoner while he awaits trial, I'd be appreciative. If not, I understand and will find some other manner of detaining this individual."

McSween says nothing for a few moments as she regards Segovia with a studious frown. Shifting her attention to Cooper, she says, ”I think very highly of your uncle, Mr. Cooper. He’s a good man. Please give him my regards when you see him. It’s been a bit since we’ve visited. I’m certain he’s thankful to have you here.”

She sighs. ”Ranger Lee, I don’t have any objection to keeping this man held for you, provided you find my plan for detaining him acceptable.”

“Ranger...some of the hands that work here worked for John Tunstall. Jim was one of them. Those that have stayed are of a...calmer disposition. They want to honor John by making sure that this ranch thrives and guarded against those that would see it dismantled. But...several of John’s former cowboys have banded together to avenge his death. They’ve been given some nominal authority by the Justice of the Peace in Lincoln, but the truth is the warrants they’ve been issued have just emboldened them in their cause. I have it on very good authority that some of the people they’re hunting weren’t on the Judge’s list. And, unfortunately, if the rumors are true, some that were assigned warrants are quite likely innocent.”

“Richard Brewer, who was the original foreman here, led them at first. Richard was interested in justice. Law and order. He was killed west of Lincoln. A rifle shot at long range. Several believe one of Jesse Evans’ men, Frank Baker, was responsible. Since then, they’ve been led by another young man. His Christian name is Henry McCarty, but he goes by Billy. Billy just wants revenge. And unfortunately, he’s very good at getting others to see the world in the same way that he does.”

“They come here from time to time. Stay in the bunk house for a night or two. I’m sympathtic to them, even if I don’t approve of their methods. When they are present, I try to talk sense to them. It hasn’t worked so far.”

She points to Segovia. ”If they learn he’s here, and that he had a hand in the kidnapping of those children, they’ll kill him, Mr. Lee. Billy won’t even stop to think about it.” Cooper and Lee notice that Segovia blinks several times, swallowing hard.

”On the northwest corner of the property, there’s a line shack. It’s mainly used to watch the herds in winter. Unless you object, I’ll put him out there and make sure that at least one of my hands is guarding him at all times. If the Regulators, as Billy and his fellow riders call themselves, happen to come in, they’d have no reason to travel out that direction. So he should be safe until you’re prepared to move him.”

Albert drew a breath through his nose. So if he wanted Segovia dead, all he had to do was tip off McHanky. That was good to know, though it wasn't the sort of thing Albert would do. At least not anymore. At least Albert didn't think Albert would do such a thing anymore. Right?

He remained quiet about the decision at hand, as General Lee would have to make this call. However, he certainly would respond to pleasantry in kind. "Thanks fer the kind words 'bout my uncle. He's spoke nothin' but good about ya too, ma'am. I will pass along your regards. And while I'm sure my uncle has appreciated my help around the ranch, he won't be none too pleased if I bring outlaws down on his head. So please take good care of this here fella and mebbe don't mention I helped bring him here should anyone ask."

He listened to her, waiting until she had finished to add his thoughts. Meeting her in the eye, he just gave her a nod before speaking. He couldn't say why, but he felt a measure of trust in this woman; it was more of a gut thing than anything else, but her manner of disclosing what she had to him gave him what he needed to know. If she was just going to put a bullet in the fella the moment they left, she needn't have given him that plan for detainment.

"I do find your plan for detaining this man acceptable. I'm grateful for your assistance in this matter. In most towns, I would have been able to engage the local constabulary to assist me in matters like these, but I'm sure you can understand why I can't do that in this case. Now, I could take this man alone back to Santa Fe with me for a proper trial, but there are bigger fish that need fryin' here in Lincoln and I intend to do that."

He looked at her, and the man that Cooper had identified as Jim French, and then said one more thing. "Mrs. McSween, I mentioned earlier that I was sent here to look into the untimely demise of the late Mr. Tunstall. I arrived in town today, and when I heard about the kidnapped children, I had to make them my first priority as I'm sure you understand. But now that that's been settled, I'm more open to considering the purpose that I've been set to attend to. In the course of that, I understand that I'll likely become a target of the House - but I'd like to keep those that have helped me with the situation as safe as they can be. If you and Mr. French could keep Mr. Cooper's presence here today with me a secret, for the sake of him and his uncle, I'd appreciate it. As far as anyone knows, it was just me that took this fella. Of course, that lasts only so long as he stays put."

He turned to give Segovia a good hard stare, before looking back to McSween. "So if he tries to run, I'd be better for everyone if he...didn't make it off the ranch. Now, if you need me at any time, you can send for me. I'm in town at the Montano boarding house."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:31, Mon 09 July 2018.

McSween looks at French. ”Jim, not a word about Mr. Cooper being here tonight.”

”Yes’m,” the tall man replies.

”Why don’t you and Vicente go ahead and take our guest out to the shack? Vicente didn’t have much in the way of work today, so he can take first watch.”

French nods. Taking Segovia by the arm, he pulls him toward the front door. ”No trouble,” he says simply before the pair exit into the night.

McSween looks down at her hands, momentarily quiet. ”Mr. Lee, I don’t want to speak out of turn, and I certainly wouldn’t presume to tell you your business. I’ve never been in a position such as yours. But...”

“I don’t need to tell you about The House’s ruthless methods. If you know of John’s murder, than you’re already well informed on that account. But before you press further with your efforts against them, might I suggest that you speak with Renata Montaño at length about everything that has transpired here in Lincoln, both recently and in years prior. Since you’re staying at the Patron House, that should prove easy to do, and I think that the information she could provide would be valuable. Life saving, even.”

“And...as you’re new to our town, please make an effort to stay indoors tomorrow night.”

McSween asks one of her hands, Sam Smith, who knows the ranch well, to ride with Cooper and Lee back toward Lincoln. She wishes the pair luck, assuring Lee that he is welcome at any time to come in to check on the welfare of his prisoner. The soft spoken Smith leads the pair to a small arroyo north of the ranch house, which winds back toward the edge of the McSween property, ultimately depositing the riders a short distance from the western end of Lincoln. From there, Cooper is able to make it back to his uncle’s ranch without interference and Lee circles Lincoln itself with relative ease, reaching his lodgings by way of the back entrance. Neither man has any sense that they have been observed.

The remainder of the evening passes uneventfully, the cool air from the Capitan Mountains momentarily lulling Lincoln into peaceful, dreamless rest.