Startled, Tully took a few steps back, not sure how to take the girl who was kneeling before her, pleading for forgiveness, at the same time asking her to smack her! 

"I ain't gonna hit ya," she muttered with a frown, taking another step back, finding that she was against the bed now and had nowhere else to go.  "Ya don't gotta kneel down like that...ain't me ya wronged."

This place was very strange, and once she managed to escape in the morning -- if she waited that long -- she'd surely never come close again!  Living under the stairs on Main street was a far better option, and there was always an abandoned building to be found.

"I want ta go ta bed now, been a long night."  And the rain had stopped, so it wasn't going to be as unwelcoming outside, come time to leave.

Startled, Tully took a few steps back, not sure how to take the girl who was kneeling before her, pleading for forgiveness, at the same time asking her to smack her! 

Arabella looked up with big sad eyes at the retreating tough street survivor; a Taoist like Mr Fa would have appreciated the spectacle of supplication defeating aggression. 

"I ain't gonna hit ya," she muttered with a frown, taking another step back, finding that she was against the bed now and had nowhere else to go.  "Ya don't gotta kneel down like that...ain't me ya wronged."

"I'm sorr-wee!" pouted Arabella, disturbingly. 

Frances heard from Tully's tone of voice that she was somewhat taken aback by the odd Virginian girl's behavior. She clapped her hands twice, sharply. "Mudd, you are dismissed!" This worked like a siren call. Arabella rose to her feet, glided over to Frances, gave a silent curtsey and exited the room. She could then be heard giggling hilariously and padding back to her room. 

"I want ta go ta bed now, been a long night."  And the rain had stopped, so it wasn't going to be as unwelcoming outside, come time to leave.

Frances had to suppress a smile: Tully had risked life and limb rescuing her from the tree this evening, but Arabella's weird ways seem to have totally unnerved her. 

"All right, Tully. There's a key to lock the door from the inside if you like. I'm right next door to you if you need anything." she smiled with her funny peg-like teeth. "Goodnight."

____________________

The next morning, Frances slept in, as was her wont anyway after playing up to midnight in the saloon. By the time Tully came down, Arabella was washed and dressed and been up long enough to light the range, clean up and get breakfast on the hob. 

"Goooood morning!!" she sang more than spoke the words. "How'd ya sleep?" There was a delicious savory smell in the air as Arabella was cooking bacon and eggs and had coffee brewing in the pot.

Bongo

After checking that the key was not a trick, and worked from both sides of the door, Tully crawled between the clean, soft sheets on the bed and snuggled under the warm quilts.  She had no intention of staying -- just long enough for the house to settle, then she would slip away before dawn.

Except...the bed was so amazingly soft and warm, 'bedtime' had essentially been morning, fighting the storm and tree had taken a lot of energy, and her stomach was happy, so that when she awakened, it was already past any chance of sneaking away, and besides, her stomach was rumbling at the delectable aromas coming from the kitchen, and wouldn't let her entertain any idea of leaving before it was happy again.

Well, there was always later.

After pulling on the borrowed clothes until she could find her own, Tully combed her fingers through her unruly hair, doing her best to work out the snarls, then started cautiously down the stairs.  Arabella's warm greeting was, well, warm, and Tully smiled and nodded.

"Slept real good," she answered, "bed's nice'n soft.  Oh, an' mornin' ta you, too."

Arabella's warm greeting was, well, warm, and Tully smiled and nodded.

"Slept real good," she answered, "bed's nice'n soft. Oh, an' mornin' ta you, too."

Arabella smiled as she dished up some hot bacon and eggs onto a plate and poured some coffee, plonking them on the table in front of the person who, despite her male clothing, was very obviously a girl. 

"Oh, your duds is over there. I was gonna wash 'em for you, but Frances reckoned you'd probably want to get dressed and go as soon as you could this morning. I sewed up that rip in your shirt, though..." she added, cracking another couple of eggs into the frypan "... and darned your socks. That was tricky... they was kinda...stiff." she said. She didn't mention how smelly they were, too.

She glanced over. "You can keep them ones too, if you want. no use to Lorenzo any more. Oh say, before you go off to wherever you go to, can you show me whereabout Franny got squashed by that tree? I wanna try and find her seein' stick and her glasses." 

Arabella came over and sat down at the table too now and started munching, speaking with her mouthful.  

"So, how come you wear feller's clothes?" She felt she could be a little more nosey now Frances wasn't around "I mean, is it cause they're all you got, or more just, like, convenience?... or d'you just like it. Y'know? I mean, that's all right. I got a friend what's a feller, and he likes to wear ladies' clothes." the primly dressed Arabella mentioned casually, gnawing on a biscuit.

"Thank ya."  Tully nodded as she took a seat at the table, her stomach growling as her head wondered if this was the same Arabella that had been on her knees last night begging for a beating.  But Tully wasn't fooled, although that wouldn't stop her from enjoying a real breakfast!

"Don't often have real breakfast," she muttered between bites, avoiding directly answering Arabella's question, "yer a passin' good cook.  Ya learn that..."  Well, where?  She was an orphan, so it wasn't her ma that taught her.  "I ain't much fer cookin', but I like berries right off th' bushes...ya gotta be careful not ta get too scratched up by them thorns, though.  An' sometimes I can get a chicken or rabbit in a snare.  Britches makes huntin' easier."

And that was as much explanation as she was going to give on the pants.  They were practical, and there were times that it was easier -- and safer -- for Tully to stuff her hair under her hat, put on an oversized coat and become a boy.  And that brought to mind Arabella's other statement.

"There's men what wear wemmen's dresses?  Not like them Scottish men in them short skirts, but real dresses?  Why'd anyone want ta wear a dress they didn't hafta?"

The garments were cumbersome and impractical for most things, like climbing and running and digging under trees and whatnot.

"Don't often have real breakfast," she muttered between bites, avoiding directly answering Arabella's question, "yer a passin' good cook.  Ya learn that..." Well, where?  She was an orphan, so it wasn't her ma that taught her.

"Oh, my Aunt Rosie" Arabella informed her, before adding "Course, she wan't my real auntie, I mean: she was black as coal fer a start! But her and her husband, Uncle Ned, used to live with us in our shack and she did all the cookin'. My Mama never touched a pot or pan, thought she was too hoity-toity fer that, but she was just white trash like the rest of us, really. God Rest her Soul."

She looked at the frizzle-haired Tully. "What do you usually cook fer breakfast?"

"I ain't much fer cookin', but I like berries right off th' bushes...ya gotta be careful not ta get too scratched up by them thorns, though.  An' sometimes I can get a chicken or rabbit in a snare.  Britches makes huntin' easier."

"OHhhhh!" Arabella cooed. well that answered that question. But, still, she couldn't help wondering what Miss Nevada would look like in a nice frilly frock. Pretty nice, she reckoned.

"There's men what wear wemmen's dresses?  Not like them Scottish men in them short skirts, but real dresses? 

"Kilts? Uh-uh, proper dresses, with bustles and everything." the Virginian girl elucidated.

"Why'd anyone want ta wear a dress they didn't hafta?"

Arabella shrugged "I dunno, maybe cause they're not allowed to? I mean, if you or Addy Chappel or some other lady wants to wear pants, people ain't too ornery about it out here. But can you imagine if Marshall Guyer or Mayor Wentworth got up one mornin' and said 'say, I feel a little bit fancy today, reckon I'll go out in mah gingham gown!'..." she started laughing at her own idea "... an' he went walking down the street like that, curseyin' to one and all?" she laughed again, but then her face fell a little.

"No, this friend of mine, his sister caught him dressin' up in her duds, see. Came home unexpected one day and there he was in her room, pullin' on her stockings and dressed in her drawers and everything, just about to put on her best Sunday frock, he was. An' she just blackmailed the death out of that poor boy, any time he went agin her, she threatened to tell on him to the whole town, so as everybody'd know his shameful secret." She took a slurp of coffee and carried on.

"Anyhow, one day I was there and he cheeked her in front of me and she spilled the beans on him, and he ran off crying and I ran after him and I says 'Hector, er, Mister X, don't you mind her. I don't care about that, now you come on round tomorrer night about seven and we'll have some fun together. And he comes round here and I'd got out some lovely lady's clothes and nice undies and a corset and everything and I told him take his boy clothes off and I dressed him up just like a nice lady and a bustle and everything!" she frowned. "Just couldn't get any shoes to fit, is all."

"And do you know what we did together? - nothin' ornery if that's what you're thinking! No, we had high tea and we sang at the piana and pressed flowers and did all lady things, and then he got dressed and went home and, oh Tully..." suddenly big tears filled Arabella's eyes and she sniffed "... he said he was just so grateful for me giving him that evening, just letting him be his real self for onct, or, well, part of his real self he'd had to keep hidden."

She blinked away a tear and sniffed again. "Oh Lord, look at me cryin'!" she laughed away the sadness. 

She picked up her plate and carried it to the sink.

"But he ain't no cream puff, mind ya! He likes the girls. Oh boy does he like the girls." she added, feeling she owed him that.

"So, we gonna look under this tree?" she asked.

Bongo

Arabella's tirade about some man named Hector had Tully's head spinning, and had her all the more wanting to escape.  But Tully's tummy was very happy -- it was a rare treat to have something in there this early in the day. 

But Tully herself wasn't so happy.  The little imp had thwarted her plans, as if she knew that Tully was planning a getaway.  

But she worried for Frances and her imprisoned spectacles and cane.  As much as she might try to tell Arabella which was the guilty tree, there really was no way but to just show her.  Even then, depending on the carnage left by the storm, Tully wasn't sure she could find the exact tree.

"Yeah, we surely do have to get Frances her possessios back," she reluctantly agreed. "Reckon it's good ya didn't warsh my clothes, just gonna get 'em all muddy all over."  She stood.  "I'll change into 'em, then we can go."

The two petite young women, neither over five foot four, looked rather queer walking along the street together: Tully in her masculine, somewhat tatty garb; Arabella neat as a pin in feminine bonnet and shawl, clad head to toe in jet black. Occasionally Ara would stop and point at some bit of storm damage or where a sign used to be. 

They got to the impressive looking horizontal tree, as few onlookers marvelling at the felled monster. Arabella was absolutely no use at all when it came to recovering the lost items, the merest touch of a twig seemed to defeat her. It was up to Tully to clamber in, clamber down and search around. But she came up trumps, and handed Arabella the stick, which wasn't particularly remarkable and the glasses which were: Mr Smith the gun.. smith... had fashioned them by hand and they were a work of art. 

Arabella, almost predicably, put the glasses on and started sweeping around with the cane "Hey, look at me I'm blind!" she laughed,

But then she took them off and offered them to Tully. "Try 'em on" she suggested. "It makes you see what it's like to be Frances." she looked thoughtful "First time I tried 'em on , I was sorta shocked: I think it's really helped me to understand her."

Bongo

It was a pity that Tully had taken so much care to clean up the night before, since it was going to be pointless once she retrieved the lost items, but it wouldn't be the first time.  While it wasn't hard to find the tree, Tully had to stand back for a bit, contemplating just where Frances had been, and where her things might be, and even after she decided where the best place to hunt was, she'd had to crawl around in the mud on her belly, so that when she (finally) emerged triumphant, she was drenched in muck, even her chin was dripping mud.

Arabella took possession of the possessions, then planted the glasses on her nose, declaring that she was blind.  Tully's nose wrinkled up in disgust, but at least the girl couldn't see.  Then Little Miss Arabella explained that it gave her an idea of what it was like to be Frances, and offered them to Tully.

"Nah, I can just close my eyes, I think."  Tully shrugged, wondering what was wrong with Arabella that she couldn't see how mean spirited she was, and then Tully had her own spark of mean-spiritedness, and wasn't going to resist.  "But yer such a good friend ta Miss Frances!" she declared passionately.  "She's surely lucky ta have such a friend!"

And at that, Tully stepped forward and pulled Arabella into the biggest, tightest, muddiest bear-hug she could manage.