Tully had a good deal of patience, and could sit very still for hours, it was a skill she had learned at a young age, to stay hidden and unobserved. Tonight, as she had a few times before, she was crouched at the end of the alley near the cafe, waiting for the last of the customers to leave. After that, there was a short time when the young woman running the place would leave the kitchen to clean the dining area, and that was when Tully could sneak in the back and grab something...anything, she didn't care, so long as it was edible.
Finally, that last group left, and Tully quietly moved closer to the back door, waiting, listening, and when the lady left the kitchen, she slipped in the back door, grabbing a biscuit and stuffing it in her mouth, then reaching for more that disappeared into pockets. There was some stew on the stove, but that would have to be put into something easier to carry than the large, hot kettle.
In her haste to pour the stew into a ceramic pitcher, Tully didn't consider that the kettle would still be as hot as it was, and as she picked it up, she let out a yelp, dropping the kettle as well as the pitcher.
Panicked, she looked toward the dining area as she scrambled for the back door, only managing to slip on the stew, tangle in a chair and fall to the floor...
"Yes, Dear"
Jacob had just returned from a telegraph delivery to Hungry Horse, up past Columbia Falls, and was in no good mood at all. His horse had gone lame on the return journey, around about La Salle, and he had basically had to slog it on foot it from then on in. He was tired, hungry, aware that his pregnant wife would be worried about his late arrival home and definitely, DEFINITELY not happy about the dirty little thief who he caught escaping from the kitchen as he opened the back door.
He grabbed at her instinctively as she barreled into him, using all the wrastling skills learned in the schoolyard in bouts agin' his then arch enemy, Hector Wigfall, and at the same time shouting.
"Clara! CLARA!! I caught some little tramp stealing from the kitchen!!"
In his book, a dirty little sneak thief was as bad as a cattle rustler or a horse thief and should be dealt with accordingly. Maybe not a hanging for a girl like this, but whipped out of town for sure, and a good majority of the townsfolk would agree with him. And if the sometimes too-kindhearted Marshal wouldn't do anything about it, his grandma, Mrs Miggins, could certainly rustle up a band of vigilante townsfolk to take care of the female felon.
Clara was sweeping under the tables, tired from another long day. But business had been good and everything had gone smoothly. She knew she would sleep well this night...assuming Jacob ever showed up. She worried about him and that infernal job of his. What with Indians massacring even the US army right and left, what chance would he stand should a warparty come upon him on the road? At least when she was so busy during the day she did obsess about it.
There was a cry from within the kitchen? Except she was the only person here. Then a crash and clatter. Oh god, had some pest of a raccoon or stray dog got in somehow thru the back? Even as she started for the back, there was more commotion and a very familiar and clear voice rang out.
"Clara! CLARA!! I caught some little tramp stealing from the kitchen!!"
What the ... ? That was Jacob, absolutely zero doubt about it. She now rushed into the kitchen broom in hand still (and ready to use it if necessary). There he was hanging on to some woman she had never seen before?
"My goodness! What is going on here? And you....." a very stern Clara pointed an accusatory figure at the stranger, ".......who are you and why are you in my kitchen?" (Alright technically it was Emeline's kitchen but...not pertinent at the moment.)
Tully was still trying to gain her feet as she stumbled for the back door, lurching up to push it open. She was close to making her retreat down the steps when she barrelled into a firm but squishy barrier that tried to restrain her. At first, it didn't register that it was a man, nor a person at all, and she fought to get away, pushing, clawing, even trying to bite!
It only took a few short moments for her brain to register that it was a man fighting with her, and that, for now, she didn't have a chance of escaping him, so, for now, she relented and stopped resisting, taking deep breaths to steady herself and plan her next move.
As for answering questions, she had long-since learned that it was best to stay silent...
"Yes, Dear"
"OW!! She bit me!!" Jacob complained as Clara bustled into the kitchen armed with not-very-lethal-looking broom. "Quit it, you!" He got the squirming, scratching, biting little wildcat's arm into an armlock (Hector had taught him that move, by example) so that with the slightest movement he could cause the girl incredible pain, with no chance to say 'uncle' and get out of it.
"My goodness! What is going on here? And you....." a very stern Clara pointed an accusatory figure at the stranger, ".......who are you and why are you in my kitchen?"
The frizzy haired little criminal wouldn't speak, so Jacob, who was tired and angry and well out of sorts, quite callously twisted her arm further and ordered "Answer my wife when she asks you a question!" He was willing to dislocate the creature's arm if she didn't start to talk.
Growling, Tully showed no other indication of pain, she'd had enough practice to fight through it, and refused to show defeat.
"She's married to ya?" she snarled instead of answering the question. "Seems she got more problems'n someone come ta help out."
Her mind was processing quickly, another survival technique she'd learned. "I seen a racoon come in, an' was just tryin' ta shoo him out a'fore he got inta everything." Plausible enough, right? "He jumped up on th' stove an' knocked th' stew over."
That was her story and she was sticking to it!
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
She's married to ya?" she snarled instead of answering the question. "Seems she got more problems'n someone come ta help out."
"Very funny!" snapped Jacob sarcastically "Don't try and change the subject! What were stealing in there? What were you doing - looking for the takin's?!" This was a worse charge than that of stealing food.
Her mind was processing quickly, another survival technique she'd learned. "I seen a racoon come in, an' was just tryin' ta shoo him out a'fore he got inta everything." Plausible enough, right? "He jumped up on th' stove an' knocked th' stew over."
Jacob instinctively tensed the hold on Tully's arm, increasing the pain. "You're a liar. A liar and a thief!" he reiterated. All this noise was starting to attract attention from the neighbors and passers by at the front of the diner. A couple of them now peeped their heads around the back of the neat building.
"What ya got there, Jake?"
It was the dreaded figure of Arabella Mudd and a companion. The nuisance girl bustled up and peered at the captured, hoydenish figure: then looked delighted.
"Say, don't hurt her Jake, I think she might be just what I been lookin' for!" she looked into Tully's face, for the two were about the same diminutive height: though the roughly, boyishly clad scrounger couldn't have looked more different from the neatly, if oddly dressed Arabella, in her funereal black dress.
"Excuse me, Miss, but are you a Fallen Woman??" she asked, with a hopeful note in her voice.
Jacob instinctively tensed the hold on Tully's arm, increasing the pain. "You're a liar. A liar and a thief!"
Tully winced at the pressure, but kept her silence again, not wanting to give the clodhopper any satisfaction. She'd given her part of the story and that was that! If he didn't want to listen, she didn't care, she'd had far worse done to her, and she was pretty sure the man wouldn't do anything too drastic with his wife right there...or the small crowd they seemed to be attracting.
Then some little snippit of a girl sashayed over, peering at Tully as if she was some sort of exhibit while she asked the man not to hurt her.
"Whacha mean, whach'er lookin' fer?" Tully snapped. No one was looking for her!
Then the question...
"Excuse me, Miss, but are you a Fallen Woman??"
Oh, that was what it took!
Surging back, Tully put all of her weight against the man holding her, then surged forward. If she could get her hands free, she'd throttle the little bitch!
This woman was holding up surprisingly well to Jacobs forceful hold but at least she finally gave her excuse for being in the diner kitchen. Not before making some sort of crack though!
"Seems she got more problems'n someone come ta help out."
"And just what it that supposed to mean?" Clara didn't get it but was annoyed nonetheless.
"I seen a racoon come in, an' was just tryin' ta shoo him out a'fore he got inta everything", was the woman's story, "He jumped up on th' stove an' knocked th' stew over."
Jacob didn't believe it for a second and was madder than a hornet. Not that Clara believed that either but tried to keep calm and measured about it.
"Excuse me, that cannot be true. Animals know better than to come too close to flame and the fire is on on the stove to keep the stew warm so no way the creature would jump up there," Clara reasoned quite logically.
Just then who should show up but Arabella! How was she around in the back of the alley by the kitchen door at closing time?
"Say, don't hurt her Jake, I think she might be just what I been lookin' for!" declared Arabella, barging into the conversation. One of her more annoying habits, Clara thought though she could list others too.
"Excuse me, Miss, but are you a Fallen Woman??" Arabella followed up.
"Ara!" Clara glared, the stranger might well be a lying thief but that was no reason to accuse her of being a fallen woman? "Uncalled for."
That really infuriated the stranger who redoubled her struggle against poor Jacob. This could not go on like this. Clara knew she need to calm the room down.
She boldly stepped up right between black clad Arabella and the furious young woman just barely restrained by her husband, taking the chance even this individual would not rough her up, in her delicate condition.
"STOP! Everyone calm down! Now I want you to stop all this nonsense and take a chair right there. And Jacob you let her go, I do not want you to hurt her, we are not those sort of folk. And Arabella, you just keep your mouth shut or I will ask you to leave this kitchen. I mean it, all of you," Clara spoke firmly but as calmly as possible.
"Then perhaps we can have a reasoned civil conversation?" she didn't give Tully any manuvering room unless the woman would try to shove past her.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Frances had been walking to work in Arabella's company quite happily, wearing her dark spectacles to hide her 'scary' blind eyes from the passers by, and discussing their mutual problem: a distinct lack of destitute cases for the Shelter for Christian Women: Kalispell was desperately lacking in 'girls in trouble' who needed shelter, or reforming or sobering up. It was then that they heard the altercation taking place behind the diner and Arabella, slight as she was, dragged the older and taller blind girl after her down the side open side of the neat little building.
Frances then heard a jumble of conversation: her housemate Arabella asking the status of somebody, presumably someone who looked like a 'woman of the town' then giving a little squeak of alarm: maybe the person in question had tried to attack her fellow good Samaritan. Then another woman's voice, somewhat prissy - it sounded like the woman who ran the diner, Mrs Lutz.
"Ara!" Clara glared, the stranger might well be a lying thief but that was no reason to accuse her of being a fallen woman? "Uncalled for."
Then Arabella's voice again "Well I was just checkin' - me an Franny can't find us a fallen woman round these parts fer love nor money. Say scrappy, you got a drink problem?" another hopeful query!
Then an annoyed male voice she didn't recognize. "I don't think so, Reb, she stinks of everything but booze!"
Then the prissy voice again.
"STOP! Everyone calm down! Now I want you to stop all this nonsense and take a chair right there. And Jacob you let her go, I do not want you to hurt her, we are not those sort of folk. And Arabella, you just keep your mouth shut or I will ask you to leave this kitchen. I mean it, all of you," Clara spoke firmly but as calmly as possible.
Frances heard the twin voices of the man, 'Jacob' apparently, and Arabella both whine "But she'll escape!!" then Arabella adding "Let's tie her up! Well, you know, for her own good o' course."
"No, I'll hold her on the chair, she won't get away."
Frances felt someone move in front of her - funny, in the blackness, how she could just sense that. The direction of the next voice told her it was Mrs Lutz.
"Then perhaps we can have a reasoned civil conversation?" she didn't give Tully any maneuvering room unless the woman would try to shove past her.
"Yeah! I'll start the interrogation! I'm good at this cause I used to play Confederate Spies with my friend Melissa Cartlidge and she used to tie me up and tickle my feet till I told her the position of Lee's Army. Now listen, Scrappy, you're gonna tell us your name, place and date of birth, what you was stealin' from Clara's kitchen, whether you ever imbibe strong liquor, what other crimes and scampish behaviour you been up to, an' ... an' oh yeah, do you ever put yourself about with the fellers?! Now talk or I'll start ticklin'!!" there was a pause and then Arabella's voice added "Hold her Jake!!"
Frances could bear it no longer and shouted out "Oh, why don't you all just leave the poor girl alone?!"