Duncan adjusted his hat, glancing back. "Fair enough, Sheriff. I’ll see she gets something decent to eat." With that, he strode out the door toward the Lickskillet.

As Duncan made his way down Kalispell’s main street, his boots kicking up faint clouds of dust, he took in the sights—a few children playing tag, the quiet murmur of townsfolk going about their business. He tipped his hat to a passing woman with a basket of goods. "Ma'am," he said politely.

Spotting the Lickskillet up ahead. Straightening his hat, Duncan stepped into the Lickskillet. The familiar aroma of fresh bread and hearty stew greeting him like an old friend. "Afternoon. Got anything hot and ready for a hungry traveler—and maybe something to take back for the Sheriff’s new guest?" His eyes scanned the room taking in who all was there. 

Wayfarer 

It wasn't particularly busy as days went though it was past lunchtime when it normally was the busiest, so Constance was having an easy enough time both waiting on customers and clearing tables and such. She had been working there for long enough now, she had got everything down to a routine. Just a year earlier she could have never imagined her, of all people, waiting on tables! But here she was and she actually was contented with her life here in Montana. Well, except for the cold weather. But it's not like Cincinnati didn't have some cold days too.

Another customer now entered as the little bell above the door tinkled signalling another arrival. She turned to see who. By now she knew all the regulars, it wasn't a big town. But no, this fellow was a total stranger and looked to have been traveling quite a bit too lately. Impressive beard too, if one like those kind of things, she was not one who did. Clean shaven seemed more civilized.

"Good day!" she greeted him.

"Afternoon. Got anything hot and ready for a hungry traveler—and maybe something to take back for the Sheriff’s new guest?"

"Well, sir, we are a diner so we have a variety of dishes," she then waved toward the big blackboard on one side wall which had the daily menu choices chalked up (in Clara's immaculate printing).

"Would you care to sit and study the menu while I get you a coffee or something to drink?" her eyes went toward the closest empty table.

"Well, sir, we are a diner so we have a variety of dishes," she then waved toward the big blackboard on one side wall which had the daily menu choices chalked up (in Clara's immaculate printing).

"Would you care to sit and study the menu while I get you a coffee or something to drink?" her eyes went toward the closest empty table.

Duncan gave a nod and a faint smile, his hat in hand now, revealing hair tousled from travel. He glanced toward the chalkboard menu, though he didn’t linger on it long. His stomach was the one making decisions today.

“I’ll take whatever you think’s good, Miss,” he said in a low but polite tone, his voice carrying a bit of a gravel to it. “And if you’ve got stew and bread, that’ll do fine for the Marshal’s guest.”

He made his way to the empty table that the young lady had indicated. Easing himself into the empty chair, stretching his long legs out under the table. “Coffee sounds good.,” he added, offering another polite nod before leaning back and letting his gaze wander, taking in the place as he settled into the warmth and comfort it offered.

“I’ll take whatever you think’s good, Miss,” he said in a low but polite tone, his voice carrying a bit of a gravel to it. “And if you’ve got stew and bread, that’ll do fine for the Marshal’s guest.”

Oh dear! The various items were a wide range of prices. Would he want the steak, potatoes and gravy with green beans? That was more expensive than the baked beans and pork hock.

"Well sir, we do have chicken soup today and we always bake our bread fresh every morning," she pointed out.

He made his way to the empty table that the young lady had indicated. Easing himself into the empty chair, stretching his long legs out under the table. “Coffee sounds good.,” he added, offering another polite nod before leaning back and letting his gaze wander, taking in the place as he settled into the warmth and comfort it offered.

"Coffee it will be then. Do you take sugar or cream?" she inquired.

Then she leaned in to speak almost in a whisper, "If you want my honest take on things, our food is great but everyone says the saloon serves the best beef stew. In fact we kind of gave up on that item due to the competition. The chicken soup is good though, lots of chicken in it."

Duncan tilted his hat back slightly, offering a faint smile at her candidness. "I’ll take your word on the chicken soup, then. Sounds like it’ll hit the spot." He paused, then added, "And the coffee’s fine black. Don’t need anything fancy with it."

"Yes sir, chicken soup then. It comes with bread and butter on the side," she smiled. "And coffee, black of course."

She was about to leave for the back to ladle up a warm bowl of soup and pour him some coffee but he had another question.

"Where’s the best place in town to stay the night? Somewhere with a decent bed and maybe a little quiet, if it’s not too much to ask."

"Oh...well....we have a hotel but it is pricey. I certainly could not afford to stay there," she grinned.

"Then there is a boarding house, the Wigfalls is the family. Much cheaper of course. But I cannot be sure if they have any openings."

Duncan gave a slow nod, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Pricey or not, the hotel sounds like the kind of place I could rest my head for one night, at least. Better to start fresh in the morning"

Well, way he looked and was dressed, he didn't seem to be the sort to have that kinda money for the hotel but then what did she know. Maybe he struck it rich recently with some gold or silver claim? None of her business anway thought Constance.

"Sure, you can't miss it, big building, large sign," she added probably unnecessarily, the man had eyes.

He tilted his head slightly. "That boarding house, though—the Wigfalls, you said? Sounds like it’s worth looking into for the rest of my stay."

"Yes, the Wigfalls, I've never been there but heard good things about it," she nodded.

He shifted a bit in his chair to get a bit more comfortable then introduced himself, "Name’s Duncan Kerrigan." As he extends his hand.

Oh? Well, not a lot of male customers, customers period, offered a hand to shake. But she didn't hesitate to extend hers back for a quick shake. Hopefully his big hand wouldn't crush hers.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kerrigan," she flashed her most charming smile, "I'm Constance...Miss Constance Straub."

"You in town on some sort of business?" he seemed friendly enough she felt she could ask without sounding too nosy.

Duncan gave a small nod, his grip firm but not overbearing as he shook her hand. Settling back into his seat, he offered a faint smile. "Just Duncan's fine, Miss Straub."

His expression remained steady, his tone even. "As for what brought me here, business. Brought a prisoner back for their execution. The judge saw fit to send them back here to hang." He exhaled through his nose, as if shaking off the weight of it. 

With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "And what about you, Miss Straub? What keeps you in a town like this?"

His expression remained steady, his tone even. "As for what brought me here, business. Brought a prisoner back for their execution. The judge saw fit to send them back here to hang." He exhaled through his nose, as if shaking off the weight of it.

"Oh...dear. So the man was a murderer then?" Constance assumed...oh wait, people out west hung men for cattle and horse rustling too.

With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "And what about you, Miss Straub? What keeps you in a town like this?"

"A job for one," she smiled.

"I came out west recently from my birthplace in Cincinnati, Ohio. My uncle lives here, his wife passed, and his daughter moved out when she became an adult. So I stay with him. I like Kalispell...mostly," she answered as best she could.