Oregonal Sin

Alita had been coming in to town much more often since the flood. She wanted to help out where she could and she wanted to escape the memories that the still-sodden pastures brought to mind.

After finishing some more building work down by the docks, she headed to the saloon. She took her normal seat at the bar and glanced around the room to see who else was about.

The stream that crossed her land had looked more like the river it fed into for a few brief hours. Alita counted her blessings that they hadn't moved the herd down to pasture yet -- that meadow wouldn't be usable for a long while now. She'd gotten off easy; no loss of life, no buildings maged, the herd was safe. Still, she'd constantly fought off memories of the last flash flood, of Hector, of finding his body.

Once she'd seen the ranch was secure, she'd rounded up as many hands as she could spare and led them into town. They arrived wet, muddy, and in Alita's case, with lips tightly pressed together.

There was work to be down. Memories would have to wait.

He was going to make it into the saloon tonight, he promised himself, no more hiding in the cathouse. He took a deep breath and stepped through, ignoring the eyes he felt on him (whether they were real or imaginary), and made it to the counter, sitting on a stool next to someone who'd never been mean to him. He liked Alita.

"Hey beautiful," he grinned at her, his custom smile.

Alita sat at the bar, hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee as she tried to warm them. She let the conversation drift around her until someone took up residence on the stool next to her. She looked up and nodded in greeting.

The weather was making it harder to trek into town, but supplies were needed and she'd delayed the trip as long as she could. She'd decided not to try to hitch the wagon and get it through the pass, and once she'd made it into town, had bought space in the stables for her horse.

She was headed for the saloon for news when a gust of wind ripped her hat from her head. "Madre de dios!" she exclaimed as she chased it.

Alita was mad. No, scratch that. Alita was furious. There was definitely a stomp to her step and a barely-controlled energy to her movements as she entered the saloon and ordered a drink that was quite a bit stronger than her usual.

She muttered to herself in Spanish, then shook her head and sighed. "Increíble!"

The air was a little cooler than might have been ideal for an outdoor gathering, but hovering in the low 60s, it wasn't so bad.

There was a tent set up in the yard beside the church, a few tables put together, to make a long row, and chairs. Brother Dan has announced the last couple of weeks in church that there would be a pot luck today, everyone invited. No preaching, just community dinner. Now it was up to everyone else to show up. With food, if they wanted to and could.

Alita had just tied her horse outside the general store and was rummaging through her saddlebags when she heard someone approach on the boardwalk. She looked up and nodded in greeting. "Morning."

JB had woken just before dawn to start work; he came back a bit after to breakfast up at the big house. But first.

His hat and scarf were on a tree stump, balanced precariously as JB ducked his whole head in a horse trough, coming up spluttering.

Which was when he caught sight of Alita. "Sorry, Ma'm!"

Opening time on another day. Didn't make much odds if it was a weekday or a Sunday, save some of the girls started shifts late on Sundays but this one was a weekday. Heavy bars lifted away from the doors to let people in, Jax behind the bar, Gemma's girls ready and willing for company or custom. Or both.

Open for business.