Oregonal Sin

Richard hadn't only just arrived. He'd waited, ordered a drink, taken a table on his own with his back to the corner to watch Alec for a while, observe the people around, watch the game. When he saw the telltale drop of a hand under the table Alec was playing at, he stood, walked over with apparent casualness, and set his untouched whiskey on the table in front of Alec.

One hand on Alec's shoulder, the other keeping his coat clear of his draw, his eyes steady on the man across the table. "Reconsider. Now."

Noah was shoveling away on the grounds the churchyard had now extended to. She didn't need a proper burial for him, she'd just damn well do it herself. She was damn sure he wouldn't have minded. She'd finally found his corpse, which was a small favor in itself. She'd almost lost hope.

It was a grim task, digging a grave, all the more so with his body wrapped up in a bedsheet right beside it. It stank, but that was the least of her concerns. She hadn't lost it yet, hands only gaining a faint tremble as she kept digging, tears falling silently down her cheeks as she determinedly went on.

She didn't hear the footsteps until the last minute, and was fairly certain that had been done on purpose. She didn't stop digging, earth in a pretty big pile beside the grave already, and didn't turn around either. "What do you want?"

Alec had come back to the apartment and managed to get the place warmed up once the wood had been delivered. Then he'd settled on the chair, taking his hands off and started to warm them against the heat, despite the fact that his fingers were not so happy with this state of affairs. They still stung, and he glanced at the salve Harry had added, hesitating for a few minutes. He finally gave in and got about trying to apply it.

By the time Richard came home, Alec had managed to get salve onto those fingers and was trying to put the lid back on.

"That... 'man' is a stubborn bastard of a cunt," Noah raged as she claimed a spot at the bar, talking to no one in particular, and she slapped a couple coins down on the counter. "Jax, a shot of whiskey and I'll love you more'n I already do?"

Benjamin was not going in.

He was standing across the street from the Chinese house, after nightfall, and he was not going in. Testing his self-control, since it had dropped so low lately. Not going in.

After ten minutes, he started pacing. Manage a half hour, he had told himself; he was not going in. After twenty minutes, he crossed the street halfway before tracing his steps back to his spot across the street.

Testing himself. Not going in.

Twenty-five minutes, staring dead ahead at the door and what lay on the other side of it - sweet, sweet oblivion - when he heard someone walking near, and pulled himself together to turn to them.

Richard had discovered that Alec was not a patient patient. Apparently Alec was not a patient anything, but he was oddly fascinating, continuously compelling, and a complete mystery.

Richard was impatient with injury, but stoical with sickness, taking time to rest quietly until it passed, and it had passed, even with the time he'd spent caring for Alec. Now, though, Alec was improving enough to be demanding, and Richard had dressed himself, settled his guns into place, knives into their sheaths, and headed out into the town, slow pace across the square towards the store.

He paused as someone came close to him, and touched his hat to them. "Morning."

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 )

Richard had given up on the delaying tactics. He'd sold the majority of the game he'd brought back, stored the rest, and stopped looking for the stranger.

Instead, he looked for the saloon. Easier to find, and stocked with good whiskey and company keen to keep on his good side, which meant all manner of friendly company who knew to keep clear of his draw.

John hadn't started looking for Richard until afternoon. Even then he was fairly subtle about it -- just keeping an eye on the stables and keeping an ear open for Ginny's gait. When he finally heard it he came out to greet the... gunslinger.

Having given his knife to the stranger, Richard needed to get out of town. Needed to be somewhere he wasn't wondering what might happen to the knife - or the stranger - until he saw them again. It wasn't until well after dark that he figured that out, though, swinging out of his bed and buckling his guns on.

Heading out now, he could be in good hunting grounds before dawn. That meant stopping by the livery stables for his horse, pushing the door open quietly. No need to disturb John from his sleep.

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.