“I’ll do what I can to help you Miss.” James assured her, though he was not hardly a detective. Not that she seemed to need that, or she would have gone to the marshall rather than to him.

A burst of laughter erupted from James’ lips at the image her words conjured up. “I do have hair, a rather dull shade of brown I’m afraid, but my head is covered with it.” He ran his fingers through his rather shaggy mane since he hadn’t had it cut in far too long. “Not like yours which has warmth and depth. Hints of red and gold woven through it.” James blushed, his voice trailing off awkwardly since he’d spoken without thinking. Clearing his throat he changed the subject praying she would say nothing in response to his unexpected comments.

“My pleasure.” He said, as their hands slid slowly apart so he could do what he needed for her comfort while she revealed what she wanted from him. James had never thought much about how a blind person lived or if they dreamed of when it came to marrying. He’d never really had much life experience to be honest. He was still young and barely out of the classroom. As a younger son, his prospect had always been dim and now, robbed of what he’d once had seemed bleaker than ever. For now his sole focus was finding a way to support himself in the frontier. The notion of supporting a wife had yet to seriously cross his mind, But when it did, he would think less of what she looked like, since he was hardly a prize, but that she would prove to be a helpmate. Able to tend to the house while he worked outside of it to support them.

Alarm made James’ eyes go wide, fearing he’d somehow offended her. “I’m sorry if I somehow offended you MIss Frances.” He stammered quickly, his cheeks going red again. “That was not my intention.”

For the next few minutes the only sound that came from James was the scratching from his pen as he took quick notes based on what Frances was telling him about her deceased brother. He frowned, thinking that her brother reminded him of his own older brother, Henry. Who’d stolen the bulk of his inheritance from their father, leaving James unable to complete his studies.

Speed stepped up on the boardwalk and paused as he watched the traffic go by, town did seem to be busier than normal, which was good for businesses along the street. He strode to his office door and opened it to find Miss Grimes, and James Vaughn in conversation.

"James, I wonder if you would escort Miss Grimes to the bank and exchange these 'greenbacks' for coin. I believe that it will be easier for Miss Grimes to deal with silver than paper." He began. "We have one hundred dollars here. There will be a bit more when Frank's horse and tack are sold. this should help a good deal. Now, I'd not be telling you what to do, you could deposit the money or hang onto it, your choice, and advice is what Mister Vaughn can offer.

James’ gaze dropped instinctively to her feet before returning to her face, laughing along with her little joke. At least he assumed it was a joke since there was nothing on her shoes to indicate that she had stepped in anything on her way over?

James blinked, suddenly envious of the confidence that she displayed. It was something that he lacked. Standing up for himself hadn’t gone well the few times that he had dared when his brother and his cronies had tormented him at school. Though in James’ defense Henry and his chums had been bigger and older. It was hardly a fair fight. “To be fair I think it’s more important that you’re used to them rather than me.” He stopped before adding any more inane comments.

Pen in hand, James listened carefully as she explained what it was that she needed to be done in regards to her late brother’s estate. He asked a few questions when there was a point that he needed clarification

James nodded, then realized what he’d just done in front of the blind woman and spoke, “I’d be delighted to assist you in any way that I can Miss Grimes.” He hurriedly assured her. What the Marshall said made sense once he thought about it. She could feel coins and tell one from after based on size but would be unable to tell one bill from another without the ability to see.

“To be fair I think it’s more important that you’re used to them rather than me.” He stopped before adding any more inane comments.

Frances smiled: not so much at the words themselves, she had always been what other people termed 'blind' whatever that meant, of course she was used to it. It was just her world. It was hard to imagine what 'sighted' even meant. She knew that most other people had some extra sense that meant they didn't have to feel for things the way she did, and that they could differentiate between two things that felt and smelled and tasted the same to her: it didn't seem any great gain, expect that the world was designed for people to use this extra sense to get around and do things.

No, what made her smile was the sentiment behind James' words. He was sensitive, nervous, empathetic, he was trying to say the right thing while not knowing the right thing to say. He heart reached out to him.

James nodded, then realized what he’d just done in front of the blind woman and spoke, “I’d be delighted to assist you in any way that I can Miss Grimes.” He hurriedly assured her.

Again, the man's essential goodness warmed her.

"I only hope I can carry all this scrap metal, Marshall!" she joked. But the more elderly voiced man was right. Oh, Frances could feel the difference between notes which looked about the same to a sighted person, the problem was the plethora of different notes issues by different banks at different times: even the National Currency was far from uniform: printed by different printers in different places, but all backed up by the Federal Reserve. It was a problem that would puzzle blind people for a long, long time.

Then she felt a pang of guilt. Her brother, only a few hours dead, and here she was... flirting! The nice Mr Vaughn probably didn't realise it, he sounded rather innocent of such things, but she suspected the more experienced Mr Guyer might be observing it somehow: a flush of her cheek, the way she leant into Mr Vaughn when he spoke, a stupid, sloppy look on her face! Oh Dear! Things she couldn't always monitor and correct!

"Well James, you seem to have everything well in hand. I've thing that need doing, so I best get to the," Speed said. "Miss Grimes, a pleasure to meet you."

James smiled back, forgetting again that she could not see it. Truthfully he would be hard pressed to stop himself from doing such things even in her presence but for those who had sight, they would struggle to imagine how she lived as well as she did without it. It was as ingrained in him as it was for her doing without. Because he’d been raised at all-male boarding schools, the young British man had very limited experience with the fairer sex, this was simply a fact, one that James had no trouble acknowledging.

When she joked with the Marshall regarding being weighed down with metal coins, James chuckled at her jest, stopping suddenly as something occurred to him. “I say!” He exclaimed, then rushed on, “Have you ever given thought to folding each kind of bill in a different way so that you can tell which is which?” He caught his breath then, waiting to see what she or the Marshall thought of his latest idea. If she needed his assistance in the folding, he'd be happy to help her.

As she suspected, James was oblivious to the fact that she was gently flirting with him, taking everything at face value, his inexperience with the fairer sex once again rearing it’s head. He caught something of the heat that colored her cheeks, and the errant thought passed through his mind that she might be falling ill. Not uncommon so soon after the passing of a loved one.

“Have a good day sir.” James told the Marshal with a little nod of his head as the older man made his farewells and departed, leaving he and Frances alone in the office.

James hadn’t encountered another blind person before so he had no idea what type of things they needed to function in a sighted world, so when the idea of folding the money occurred to him he’d been eager to share it. In the hopes of making life a little easier for the young lady before him.

Because he was by nature a kind-hearted man, it would be likely that he would come up with ideas in the hopes of making her life easier. But hopefully not enough to be a nuisance to Frances. Her assessment of him while less than flattering for James really wasn’t that far off the mark. James did in many ways resemble an over-eager puppy, with his gangly limbs and his desire to please.

“The saloon?” James echoed a little hesitantly since his experience with the saloon in town hadn’t been the greatest. “If that’s where you need to go then that's where we will go.” He thought he could keep her safe, if only because he had no intention of taking her there in the evening when the place would be busier. “I think the morning would be best.” He suggested, trying to hide his worry.