Oregonal Sin

The Blackwood House opened its doors -- though not literally, considering the cold -- to everyone Christmas eve. It was a tradition her father and mother had started the second year they'd been in town and something Liz looked forward to every year.

All the rooms and parlors were open except the guests' private sleeping areas and the kitchen. Even the garden had been cleared and swept, benches free of snow for the moment, if guests wanted a bit of fresh air or someplace more private to talk.

The house was decorated to the hilt with greens, candles, berries, and a large tree in main dining room. That room also featured a buffet spread with food and treats that Liz had been working on for weeks. The pianoforte had been moved into the main parlor and every guest was encouraged to take a turn if they wished.

In one of the smaller parlors there was a table with small gifts for each guest -- they could pick at random or have Liz's father, who presided over the room, suggest one for them. Her brother and sister-in-law had claimed the main parlor to hold audience while Liz herself floated quietly from room to room, making sure everyone had a good time and a full plate.

Jack hadn't slept well last night, bad dreams waking him at all hours and keeping him awake a good long time once they had. As it was, he was taking it slow, yawning as he went about his business, heading toward the general store to pick up some supplies he and the pastor needed.

Jack had been keeping himself busy since the day he'd arrived here; exploring the town a piece at a time, learning where anything he might need was and getting acquainted with the townsfolk as best he could when he wasn't working under Brother Dan, doing an honest day's work and feeling grateful for it.

The sun was still high as he made his way across the square, heading for the store to pick up a few supplies and minding his own business when a flutter of movement caught his eye and he turned to see a young woman walking away, a handkerchief laying on the ground behind her. Without thinking, he turned on his heel and trotted over, stooping to pick up the kerchief. "Excuse me, miss, I think you dropped this."

Monday morning. Usually a quiet one in the saloon, girls still sleeping off the night before, Jax probably still in bed with one of them. Gemma was dressed, but not for custom, working slow around the main room to clear up. Tables wiped, bar cleaned, she was pushing a broom around the floor when she heard the door open behind her, and didn't look around. "We ain't open for business yet."

Jack was clutching his case all too tightly, standing in the dust of Corvallis' town square. Fresh off the boat and didn't he just look it, something of the little lost boy about him despite his age and stature, his head low even as his eyes drifted from building to building, trying to get his bearings. No point trawling the streets looking for the church on his lonesome, not if he could just muster up the effort of asking someone for directions. He turned his head as he saw someone step out the door of one of the buildings, seeing enough people in the room he'd just left before the doors swung closed to decide it was good a place as any to ask for help. Straightening slightly, he walked over to the building, close enough now to hear the sound of conversation within. What would his momma say, seeing her boy stood on the threshold of what was unmistakeably a saloon? She'd have choice words, that was for sure. Steeling himself, he stepped inside, casting his gaze about, sticking out like a sore thumb already without even trying.