Retired Characters and NPC Writer.
Posted January 12, 2021 | Jay Ryker
The rap on the window made him spin around and almost scream. His heart lept in his throat as he expected the sheriff at his door step. Instinctively he opened the drawer of the kitchen cup board and reached for the gun in there.
When he heard the old high pitched screechy voice throwing out threads he suddenly had all the more reason for the weapon in his hand.
She knew much more than he initially thought she did. How on earth did she know about the bank?
And she said she was armed. That part Jay didn't doubt for a second. After all the last time he saw her she had left him with a memorable scar.
He snuk to the door and decided to open it. Standing with his shoulder at the wall next to it, he let her in but was sure to point his gun at her head.
"I don't know who you think I am but you got me mixed up with someone else."
He got very nervous now that she was so close. With one bullet he could end that problem, that was about to end his new life here in town.
I took an oath for this job. The oath says bring him in. That's what I'll do.
Posted January 13, 2021 | Charlie Wentworth
On 1/10/2021 at 10:47 PM, Brendan Connolly said: "Well...it's a long story..." he took a drink before continuing. "Really not worth tellin'. But what's this here thing you're cashin' in on? Can I get in on it?" He leaned closer. If the story had to come out, it had to come out. But if he could distract Charlie from his goal, then he would.
Charlie was about to tell Brendan when one of the other Lost Lake hands came rushing over. Taking a breath, he quickly said, "There's a bit ruckus over on the other side of the barn. Jeb Maxwell and Shorty Tate are going at it over some woman."
Quickly pulling out his watch, Charlie took a look and a big grin came on his face, "I do believe that makes me the winner."
"Hang on a minute. A ruckus and a fight aren't necessarily the same thing," Marty said, "We got to get this confirmed."
"Well, you go get it confirmed and be ready with my money when you come back," Charlie replied, "I'll stay here with my friend, Brendan."
Marty nodded and motioned to the other three. "Let's go check this out."
After they had left, Charlie turned to Brendan, "While we wait I'd like to hear this long story of yours about Clara. I get the feeling it wasn't a pleasant experience."
"Smokey! Sic em, boy, sic em!"
Posted January 13, 2021 | Nellie Miggins
He snuk to the door and decided to open it. Standing with his shoulder at the wall next to it, he let her in but was sure to point his gun at her head.
"I don't know who you think I am but you got me mixed up with someone else."
There was an almost maniacal cackle as she walked in from outside.
“D’ya think I was born’d yesterday, sonny?” the old crone asked as she walked through the door, pointing an ancient pistol out in front of her: she always carried one on her trips into Town and out again; injuns, you know. "How's your friend Curly, by the way?" she asked accusingly as she peered round. Then she caught sight of him: aiming a gun straight at her.
“Oooh, trying to bushwack me, eh?!” she accused, narrow eyed, before quickly turning her own gun in his direction with a triumphant shout of “Ah-ha! No one gets the drop on Granny!”
He could still easily have shot her in that instant, but she cackled again and lowering the pistol, shoved it in her apron pocket and helping herself to a chair. “Ah ha ha! You won’t shoot me! You haven’t got it in ya.” She almost chided him for not blowing her superannuated head off there and then. “I knew’d that when you broke into old Widow Jarvis's place back in Whitefish. You’re soft. Got no business being a bank robber in the first place.” She held up a hand before he denied that.
“Oh, don’t bother … I worked that out from the newspaper report … Tom Love’s Gang had an Englishman in it. Report said he was the one as shot that poor feller in cold blood, but I thought to m'self ‘Nellie, that’s the boy you winged at Whitefish, an’ he couldn’t a shot a rabbit, let alone a human bean.'”
She cackled again, pleased with her own powers of deduction.
“Well, d’ya deny it?!” she demanded. “Or shall we go and ask the Sheriff if he thinks it adds up?”
"Yes, Dear"
Posted January 13, 2021 | Jacob Lutz
“Sorry Miss R... Clara, I’m talking too much; just nervous I guess!”
"Please do not be nervous. I think you are doing just splendidly if perhaps a tad too enthusiastic on the compliments but I have to admire your effort," Clara smiled.
“I’ll try and put a damper on the compliments” he laughed “But when a feller’s dancing with the prettiest and most admirable woman in the room, it’s hard not to let a couple of them slip out, at least.” He said, promising not to compliment her in the most complimentary way he could think of. He hoped that his sister’s advice on how to impress a girl were as spot on as her dancing lessons. She had been pretty clear on the matter: compliment, compliment, compliment.
"Thank you for the 'pretty'...but you do not really know me to decide I am 'admirable' though I appreciate the sentiment."
He shrugged a little (a tricky operation, in the middle of a waltz) “Well now, everyone I know speaks so highly of your manners and your accomplishments, and if I ever met anybody who didn’t, well, I wouldn’t want to know them anyway!” he philosophized.
Suddenly the girl decided to be pro-active and made a quick request, "Say, when the dance is finished would you like to talk? Nothing special just a nice conversation?"
“That’d be wonderful! If you can bear to talk to a feller that doesn’t know much about anything except raising crops and hunting.” He accepted with self-depreciating alacrity. “The only thing I know about besides that is the bible and a little astronomy.”
This was going somewhere.
“Did you notice the way the Moon is outside this evening?” he asked innocently.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted January 13, 2021 | Arabella Mudd
Benjamin glanced at the new speaker, "Oh, are you her sister?"
They certainly did not look like sisters but then that did not play out in many families. But he was still curious about poor Bridget's family, one that lived in a home with coffins.
“Ha!” laughed Arabella and literally slapped her thigh. Seriously, who does that?!
"Come on Cap, be a sport – there’s a feller here I’m all besotted over, and I wanna make him jealous. Seein’ me being thrown around the hall by a big ol’ handsome brute like you ought to do the trick!” the girl reasoned. If this wasn’t enough of an enticement, she informed him that “An’ ‘sides, I’m well known to be the best dancer in all unoccupied Virginia, ain’t I Bridg’?”
"Well, does this so called 'feller' have a strong temper for I would not like to be a participant in some sort of disturbance?" he cautioned but with a smile, "Jealousy can be a strong emotion you know, miss."
“Huh, you should worry?! Look at them muscles!” she squeaked, reaching up and patting Barlow on his biceps “I wouldn’t wanna be the Injun as has come up against you in fight, no sirree! Nah, it’s fine, he hates me; no, scratch that he don’t even know I exist; well, he does know I exist, but he probably thinks I’m too young fer him, even though I’m nearly sixteen!” the underdeveloped girl, who had just celebrated her 15th birthday, reasoned it out loud.
“If you dance with me, he’ll look over and say, ‘who’s that old feller dancing with my Arabella’ … that’s my name, by the way, Arabella Sumpter Mudd, at your service an’ pleased to meet you, an’ don’t worry about that Sumpter bit, and the fact that I hail from the Old Dominion, because I’m all fer the Union, have been fer five years, since my Mama went on.” She had gone off on a bit of a tangent, but it was no matter as what she had been going to say, about her plan to make Mike Wentworth fall madly in love with her, had been a load of unintelligible rubbish anyway.
“So, I’m all yours, Cap!” she finished, holding out her arms.
Posted January 13, 2021 | Clara Redmond Lutz
"I’ll try and put a damper on the compliments” he laughed “But when a feller’s dancing with the prettiest and most admirable woman in the room, it’s hard not to let a couple of them slip out, at least.”
Clara probably would have laughed at his relentless attempt to please except laughing was not something which came easily to the young lady.
He shrugged a little, “Well now, everyone I know speaks so highly of your manners and your accomplishments, and if I ever met anybody who didn’t, well, I wouldn’t want to know them anyway!”
"Goodness, they do?" Such was news to her, though Clara had to wonder who he knew that also knew her.
She decided to make a request, "Say, when the dance is finished would you like to talk? Nothing special just a nice conversation?"
"That’d be wonderful! If you can bear to talk to a feller that doesn’t know much about anything except raising crops and hunting.” He accepted with self-depreciating alacrity. “The only thing I know about besides that is the bible and a little astronomy.”
"Well, I am a farm girl myself, we can talk crops and other farm topics," she jumped at one of those topics they had in common it seemed. Alright, and the Bible. But Clara well knew various denominations had various bibles which produced various interpretations and so forth. Best not go down that well.
"You can tell me about astronomy. I know what it is but that is the extent of it," she honestly admitted.
“Did you notice the way the Moon is outside this evening?” the boy asked.
"No I have not. I had to show up early to help my employer set up the bakery table and the moon had not been up then. Perhaps you can enlighten me?" Clara was more than willing to hear him out.
Retired Characters and NPC Writer.
Posted January 14, 2021 | Jay Ryker
The old lady was really something else. Jay had literally never met a woman, who was this fearless, ruthless and admirable, as stupid as that might sound. She had really figured out a lot of facts that the authorities had missed. No one had suspected any connection of all this to him yet. And here she was. This old woman.
She even put her gun down and put herself at Jays mercy. But, as said, she had him figured out perfectly. Jay was no killer and she was counting on him not pulling the trigger.
Pushing the door close with his left boot, he also lowered his gun a little and huffed.
"You've got some nerve, woman!"
Of course he was desperate. Now would be a perfect time to finally work up the guts and shoot someone. She was old anyway. Maybe noone would miss her and Jay could go on living a pleasant life with Addy. There was only one problem. He wouldn't ba able to look her in the face anymore if he killed that old lady in cold blood and put her under the floor boards.
"I never killed anyone in cold blood and I will not start today. I didn't even shoot back at you, when you put a bullet in my skin. You should be ashamed. You're the only one, who commited a crime. I barely took some food. And I didn't set fire to anything. Nor did I shoot anyone in a bank."
Then she threated him with the sheriff, so Jay got uncomfortably close to her, looking down on her.
"What do you want from me, if you didn't already alert the sheriff?"
Posted January 14, 2021 | Benjamin Barlow
"Huh, you should worry?! Look at them muscles!” she squeaked, reaching up and patting Barlow on his biceps “I wouldn’t wanna be the Injun as has come up against you in fight, no sirree! Nah, it’s fine, he hates me; no, scratch that he don’t even know I exist; well, he does know I exist, but he probably thinks I’m too young fer him, even though I’m nearly sixteen!”
"Well, I try not to brawl with anybody, most especially Indians. So you're sixteen?" Benjamin was a bit skeptical about that last part but then he wasn't either all that familiar with teenage girls or children of any age for that matter.
But the girl jabbered right on, " If you dance with me, he’ll look over and say, ‘who’s that old feller dancing with my Arabella’ … that’s my name, by the way, Arabella Sumpter Mudd, at your service an’ pleased to meet you, an’ don’t worry about that Sumpter bit, and the fact that I hail from the Old Dominion, because I’m all fer the Union, have been fer five years, since my Mama went on.”
Old fella. Well, that was blunt of her and a bit offensive too but he had to remind himself this was still a child.
"I see....good to know. I'm sure our Union is stronger for your support too," he waxed sarcastically.
"So, I’m all yours, Cap!” she finished, holding out her arms.
Bracing himself for he may possibly be getting himself into he decided she was - in the end - a harmless young thing and it would be just ONE dance.
"Very well then, I think I can force this old carcass of mine thru one more dance before retiring to my rocking chair for the evening," he nodded then took her out onto the dance floor where the music was already playing and people had begun to dance. It was a simple enough matter for them to blend right in.
"Yes, Dear"
Posted January 14, 2021 | Jacob Lutz
"Goodness, they do?" Such was news to her, though Clara had to wonder who he knew that also knew her.
Jacob nodded, Arabella especially came to mind. “The Reb never talks about anything else: ‘Clara says this’, and ‘Clara does that’. Why I’m surprised she hasn’t asked you for a dance herself.” He smiled at the thought. Sure, girls did sometimes have to dance together, but only if there was a dearth of men.
Funny. When he'd told his sister all about ... well, all about Clara, the girl in the pie shop who never seemed to notice him, and Arabella, the girl at the saloon who always wanted to tease him, she had said 'Sounds like your chatterbox friend has a little crush on the pie shop girl, sometimes girls that age develop those on older girls." Well, that had made him laugh and laugh, he'd never heard of such a ridiculous notion in all of his born days.
And when he'd repeated it to Arabella herself, while delivering farm produce to the Saloon kitchen, she'd turned as red as a beet and chased him around the kitchen with a broom, which had made him laugh all the more. Boy, girls sure were strange, lovely critters.
She decided to make a request, "Say, when the dance is finished would you like to talk? Nothing special just a nice conversation?"
Somehow, the conversation turned to a subject that Jacob was more than passing interested in: heavenly bodies.
“Did you notice the way the Moon is outside this evening?” the boy asked.
"No I have not. I had to show up early to help my employer set up the bakery table and the moon had not been up then. Perhaps you can enlighten me?" Clara was more than willing to hear him out.
“Oh, well, I can show you, if you like, that’s even more enlightening! It’s what’s called ‘The Old Moon in the New Moon’s Arms’.” he offered, trying to look and sound like an old sage who wanted to instruct a promising scholar, rather than a young man who just wanted to get a beautiful girl out and under the Moon.
In case that sounded like too alarming an offer to the upright young lady, he added an unappetizing rider: “Of course, we could take The Rebel along with us, if you think that a chaperone would be in order.” He said, pulling a face that he hoped would convey all the verisimilitude of his being passionately concerned about her good name. He was concerned, of course, but other, quite natural, passions were perhaps more to the fore.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted January 14, 2021 | Arabella Mudd
"Well, I try not to brawl with anybody, most especially Indians. So you're sixteen?" Benjamin was a bit skeptical about that last part but then he wasn't either all that familiar with teenage girls or children of any age for that matter.
“Sure! I’m just a late developer.” Arabella assured him. True, she was growing fast, now she was getting regular meals – she had the marks on the doorframe in the saloon kitchen to prove it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t filling out at the same rate, and was getting more like a bean pole than a woman everyday. She fretted about it, but Cookie just laughed and said “Child, when you’re big and old and fat like me, you’ll give your eye teeth to be like a beanpole agin!”
But the girl jabbered right on, " If you dance with me, he’ll look over and say, ‘who’s that old feller dancing with my Arabella’ … that’s my name, by the way, Arabella Sumpter Mudd, at your service an’ pleased to meet you, an’ don’t worry about that Sumpter bit, and the fact that I hail from the Old Dominion, because I’m all fer the Union, have been fer five years, since my Mama went on.”
“I see....good to know. I'm sure our Union is stronger for your support too," he waxed sarcastically.
“Oh that’s all right, soldier, I always was fer the Union, see: my Daddy was a Abolitionist and worked on the railroad, but my Mama was red hot Sessesh, and seein’ as it was her as gave out the clipped ears in our house, you can be sure I kept the stars ‘n’ bars flying until she was dead and gone and ‘sleepin’ neath the willow’ as the poet will have it.” she advised him.
"So, I’m all yours, Cap!” she finished, holding out her arms.
"Very well then, I think I can force this old carcass of mine thru one more dance before retiring to my rocking chair for the evening," he nodded.
“That’s the spirit, pops!” she grinned, looping her arm through his and having to half walk and half skip to keep up with them as they took their places. To her delight, the caller called out a fast tempoed square dance that involved lots of spinning around and dozy does.
“Oh yippee, a fast un!” squealed Arabella, clapping her hands. “Now, I like it rough, so don’t hold back on throwing me all about the place, Cap’n … say, what’s yer name Mister, who’m I havin’ the pleasure with?!” she asked frowning. Here she was being dragged onto the dance-floor by this dashingly handsome Officer, and they hadn’t been properly introduced!