Oregonal Sin

The end of another long night - which, in practicality, meant the sun was already rising as Beth headed down into the cathouse barroom, wrapping an old shawl closer around her shoulders against the dawn chill. Slightly sore, definitely tired, but still smiling as she collapsed onto a chair, careful to get the shawl under her arm before she leaned on the polished table.

Not alone. The barroom was rarely empty, but the dawn meant tired girls heading to bed, and someone in the corner. Someone, that morning, who wasn't Gemma.

Beth straightened up, tucking her shawl in more firmly and lifting her head as she glanced across at Jax. "Gemma sleeping already?"

Jax had been trying to give Beth and Ryan space. All things considered, he hadn't wanted to crowd them or fuss or anything like that more than usual. Mostly, he was a little worried about how he would react, seeing them bruised and battered like that, and he was trying to keep Gemma's words in mind.

He didn't want to bring anything else down on the place.

Then again, he couldn't believe they were getting away without being punished. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to take Noah up on her suggestion and... Sure, his mom would probably kill him, but at least justice would win.

He was a little surprised to walk into the kitchen to find Beth, and he offered her a warm, genuine smile. "Hey Bethy."

John walked outside the stable and to the square. There was a horse following him the entire way. Not on his heels but from a distance of about four feet. It stopped when he stopped and when John turned to look at it, it looked away.

"Why," he asked, voice extremely rough, "Do I bother getting out of bed?"

It was a bit of humor at the situation but over all extremely gentle.

Harry had been coming over almost every day, each trip about an hour long. He swore whichever girl he chose to secrecy and left with a grin on his face. Today he was bundled up in a bulky coat. He walked straight up to Beth and held out his hand.

"Your turn," he said, smiling.

It was a little more than a month since Beth had been to church. She didn't have the courage to try for a Sunday service, so it was Monday that found her wrapping a shawl over her dress for decency as well as warmth before going out. Nervous and alone, eyes darting from side to side, and keeping well clear of the smaller streets and alleys, it was a moment of huge relief when she finally slipped inside the church and found it empty.

Beth went into a pew about halfway up the aisle, settling down carefully, folded her hands, and prayed. Prayed for Mr. Moriarty's pupils sick with the flu, and for Ryan to keep on recovering well. Prayed for her own children to come through it, and (slightly guiltily) that she might have enough work real soon that she could afford a new dress so she could go see them again.

Once she was done, she kept her hands folded and eyes closed, simply soaking in the peace of the church until the sound of footsteps brought her eyes wide open, heart tripping over in startlement as she recognized the preacher coming through. "Sorry, Brother, I didn't mean no...I'll be goin', then."

Three weeks, going on a month since the incident, and Beth was finally free of the damn sling. Free of most of the bruises and soreness, if not the guilt, and definitely not the worry about Ryan. Still, it was enough time, and she was back to work, corsets laced a little looser than usual, or could be that she'd just had less appetite of late.

She found a familiar face and an old smile, and slid into a free chair at their table. "Buy a girl a drink?"

Just over a week since that damned Church picnic, and Ryan was still bedrid. Gemma did what she could to keep things peaceful for the boy, but the walls were thin, and business was business. Still made time to check in on him, though. This morning was later than others, consequence of a late night working, and she was wrapped in a robe and a shawl, hair down and face bare of make-up when she let herself into his room, quiet as she could be. Door closed, she settled into the chair kept by the bed, leaning back with a soft sigh to watch the boy sleeping.

She wouldn't wake him, but she'd be there when he woke.

First thing Ryan was conscious of, was pain. Pain all over, too overwhelming to identify, and he just remained still a while. Little by little, he could make out where it came from in his body, even as the memory of what had led to the pain slowly came back to him. The memory of more pain.

So he wasn't dead. Okay.

He blinked his eyes open, cringed at the light, and croaked out a sound that should've been a moan of pain but really sounded more like what he imagined two frogs fucking might sound like. He tried to swallow, and to focus his gaze on whoever was beside him, but things were blurry and his throat was far too dry.

Lord, breathing hurt.

Note - please please make sure you've read all threads and checked on character locations and what you can find out from the 'crowd' before posting a thread or tag, so we can keep everyone in one place at one time without cloning! Thank you! Ryan and Beth have now gone from the scene but please feel free to keep on playing threads set before then or reactions after.

It had been a bad idea. Beth had known it was a bad idea, felt it, but the preacher had been so insistent and Gemma had just shrugged and said it wasn't her business what the girls did with their time off and Ryan had said he'd go with her, so Beth had gone to the church pot luck. And it had been a bad idea.

( And now )

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.

Ryan walked in through the back door, making it to the kitchen. No Beth around, saloon was still closed and she wasn't in the main room neither. "Hiya Jax," thrown at the bartender, who was there, with a bright smile, and he strode up the stairs two at a time to go knock very enthusiastically on Beth's door, balancing the cookie cutters in one hand to do so. "Betty Bethy Beth!"

As soon as he'd knocked, he promptly hid the cookie cutters in his back so she wouldn't see them first thing.

Beth had, for once, struggled hard to stay awake during the service. No reflection on the sermon, just a late night, or lack of any kind of night after working, but she was dressed respectably enough, glad to rise from the back pew at the end of the service to join the slow file out of the warm, stuffy church to the sunshine outside.

She hesitated to offer her hand to Brother Daniel, though, pausing to bob him a shallow curtsey instead. "Fine sermon this morning, sir."

Jax took a bit of a detour in getting back to the saloon. There was never any rush and maybe the walk would clear his head a little more, stop that niggling feeling that had kept him from sleeping sound.

The sun was up by the time he made it back to the saloon, letting himself in and heading to the kitchen out back to make yet more coffee. Mom probably had something to eat back there too.

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.