Rachel (veiledtruths) wrote in oldwest_rpg, @ 2008-09-06 00:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | cole fulton, rachel hudley |
Who: Rachel Hudley and Cole Fulton
Where: Founder's Day Festival
When: September 5, 1867, mid to late afternoon
Status: PG with possibilities of going higher
Summary: Rachel leaves her daughter to wander the festivities while she sneaks toward the saloon.
Grace had already promised her mother she would meet her back in front of the General Store before it got dark. A little bit of independence wouldn't hurt either of them and Rachel was fairly sure her daughter was a responsible young lady. Though she knew better than anyone the sorts of trouble a young woman could get into on her own. Hopefully she hadn't suddenly met a boy in the last two weeks.
Two weeks hadn't been enough time to get any new leads as to where the pair might head next. She had a job at least, and a place to stay that was rather comfortable. She'd only been to the saloon once trying to gather information, and that trip hadn't involved much more than looking around a bit for possible informants. Only time would tell how good they would be at giving her an idea where Cole had ran off to next and what sort of mark he had left, if any. She'd also seen the brothel and considered just "wandering" in there to see what else she might find. Yes, there were times she considered why she was running clear across the country following the trail of an old flame. Perhaps just so one day she could head home and still look his mother in the face when she said she tried to find him? She wasn't sure if she would actually go back, but that had usually been part of the plan. For all she knew she had lost the actual trail when she left home, or Cole could even be dead. Nothing would surprise her lately.
She could probably go back to the Saloon today and hope that someone might be around that would know anything of use. Rachel wandered off though, trying to stay non-chalant as though she didn't actually know where she was headed, going toward the saloon, just looking down the streets and everything she passed. She had become so engrossed with someone's curtains though and pondering if they had been made by the lady of the home or store bought when she found herself running into someone on the semi-crowded street. "Sorry 'bout that. Wasn't paying attention as to where I was headed."