Oregonal Sin

Nearly three weeks after the flood and Harry's shelves were still pretty bare. They would continue to be until a ferry came or a supply wagon or, well, any sort of outside source. He locked the shop at the end of the day with a sigh, leaned briefly on the door frame, then straightened out and headed across the saloon.

He stopped as he entered, getting used to the difference in light, then sought out a familiar face. A tired smile and he headed over to Ryan.

"Hello there," he said quietly.